The Flourishing of Romance and the Rise of Allegory (Periods of European Literature, vol. II) — Text and Context

Comparative Structure: The Nibelungenlied and Volsunga Saga

Saintsbury devotes considerable attention to the structural differences between the German Nibelungenlied and the Icelandic Volsunga Saga. He notes that the German poem allocates only sixteen of its thirty-nine aventiuren to events up to the murder of Sifrit, while the remaining twenty-three focus on Kriemhild’s vengeance. In contrast, the Icelandic version gives greater weight to the ancestry of Sigurd, his acquisition of the hoard, and the tragic love triangle with Brynhild and Gudrun.

The critic refrains from declaring one version superior, insisting instead that the two handlings are “not a question of superiority or inferiority, but only one of difference.” This refusal to rank is characteristic of Saintsbury’s approach: he values the distinct narrative logic of each tradition. The Volsunga Saga retains what he calls “finer touches of pure clear poetry” in isolated passages, while the Nibelungenlied builds a more sustained arc of revenge.

Recurring Images: Hoards, Dragons, and Funeral Pyres

Certain images recur across the excerpts, suggesting that Saintsbury uses them as touchstones for comparing literary treatments. The dragon Fafnir, the hoard of the dwarf Andvari, and the funeral pyre of Brynhild appear in both the Volsunga Saga and the Nibelungenlied, but with different narrative functions. In the Icelandic version, the hoard and dragon are central to Sigurd’s heroic identity; in the German, they are diminished, subordinated to the later revenge plot.

The funeral pyre scene in the Volsunga Saga—where Brynhild, having wounded herself, is burned with Sigurd—is described by Saintsbury as a moment of intense passion absent from the German version. He also notes the striking image of Swanhild, so beautiful that wild horses would not harm her until her head was covered. These recurring motifs allow Saintsbury to trace how the same symbolic material is reshaped by different literary cultures.

Movement Between Scenes: Narrative Pacing and Emphasis

Saintsbury’s analysis pays close attention to how each text moves between scenes. He observes that the Nibelungenlied shifts its center of gravity from the early adventures of Sifrit to the long, methodical revenge of Kriemhild. This rebalancing changes the pacing: the German poem becomes a slow-burning tragedy of courtly intrigue, while the Icelandic version maintains a more episodic, heroic rhythm.

The critic also highlights the “coda” of the Volsunga Saga, which extends the story through Gudrun’s third marriage and the death of Swanhild. Saintsbury notes that this afterpiece is rendered impossible in the German version by Kriemhild’s own death at the climax of her vengeance. Such structural choices, he implies, reflect deeper differences in how each tradition conceives of fate, closure, and the role of female characters.

The Editor’s Voice: Saintsbury’s Critical Method

Throughout the excerpts, Saintsbury’s own voice emerges as a distinctive element. He is skeptical of scholarly battles over authorship and date, dismissing them as “discussed ad nauseam.” Instead, he focuses on literary effect: how a poem works, what it emphasizes, and what it omits. His tone is often wry, as when he refers to “idler parts of Nibelungen discussions.”

This critical stance is part of a larger editorial project. As series editor, Saintsbury aims to produce a “new ‘Hallam’” that treats European literature as a whole. His method is comparative but not reductive; he insists on the integrity of each work while tracing connections across languages. The result is a study that is as much about the art of criticism as about the literature it examines.

Saintsbury’s volume rewards readers who approach it as a series of critical essays rather than a comprehensive history. His comparative method—especially in the detailed treatment of the Nibelungenlied and Volsunga Saga—offers a model for understanding how the same story can generate radically different literary forms. Pay attention to the structural choices he highlights: they reveal the underlying assumptions of each tradition about heroism, gender, and narrative closure.

I found myself thinking of the old Nibelungenlied’s grim finality, how Saintsbury traces its knot of vengeance through every line. Then my mind wandered to Hoffmann, to Master Flea—that odd, tangled tale where romance turns sideways into whimsy instead of tragedy. Specimens of German Romance; Vol. II. Master Flea — A Reader’s Guide feels like a quieter cousin, same family, different weather. Strange, how one book leads to another.