MICHAEL HIRST'S SELECTIVE COMPRESSION.

The final episodes of History Channel's Vikings finally made their way to ... the History Channel ... after having been available on various pay-per-view services since the Yuletide.  Thus, it's not really a spoiler to note that the same Floki who built boats for Ragnar Lothbrok to raid the east coast of England turns up somewhere southeast of where the Atlantic Ocean becomes the Bay of Fundy?

It’s worth hazarding a guess, then, that the Vinland beach Ubbe and Floki sat upon in the closing moments of the show’s finale was somewhere on the south-west coast of Nova Scotia. It’s likely they watched the sun set on the western horizon, with the coast of Maine hidden somewhere far beyond it. The flora, fauna and local tribes all match this location, too.

Read that essay in full for a comparison of the historical record with the story.  "Perhaps Vinland isn’t a place, but a state of mind."  Particularly at the History Channel, where an episode of "Ancient Aliens" suggested that Odin was a spacefarer, his ravens were drones, and Thor's hammer was some kind of kinetic energy weapon.  As if people who lived near an ocean couldn't develop any seafaring skills on their own.  But I digress.

All throughout the series the Vikings’ thirst for war and conquest is cloaked in the language of fate, destiny, glory, and the Gods. In a telling sequence half-way through the final ten episodes, these justifications are stripped away to reveal the dark, very mortal truth that lies behind them. Ivar, Hvitserk, and King Harald reunite in a calm and peaceful Kattegat. All three are burnt-out, frazzled, and dissatisfied. There’s a real sense that “the age of the Vikings is gone” and that this is “the twilight of the Gods”.

Harald and Ivar admit that there is no pleasure in being a King, despite it being a title both men have dreamed of and longed for, and for which they’ve lied, cheated, betrayed, and killed. In the final analysis, we can see – and finally they can see, however indirectly – that the great cycle in which the Vikings are trapped has been perpetuated not by the Gods – those great scapegoats in the sky – but by bored and angry men seeking in bloodshed distractions from a cold and brutish world whose quotient of misery has only ever been increased by their actions. It is especially sad to see Ivar churned back into this mill given the growth he experienced throughout this season, not only in being a caring, surrogate father to the Rus heir Igor, but in becoming an actual father after his body asserted itself just long enough to plant his seed in Princess Katia’s belly.

Yes, the wanting is almost always more pleasurable than the having. Perhaps I should apply that thinking to episodes 5-8 of this series, which all ran on History Channel Saturday afternoon when I was otherwise occupied.  I still don't see the point of the Kremlin intrigue, which was the same whether in Kiev or Novogorod or if it migrated to Moscow or if we waited seven centuries for the conquest of what became Petrograd from the descendants of the Vikings.  The gripe I saw elsewhere about too much "Game of Thrones" applies.

Thus we conclude with more palace intrigue in Kattegat (itself, also, a state of mind?), with Ivar and Hvitserk having one more go at the English, and Ubbe and the seekers somewhere near the Oak Island Money Pit, and, thankfully, not a Templar to be seen.  At the end, the contemporary sensibilities intrude, again.

Entering this battle we are fairly certain King Harald doesn’t plan to return alive to Kattegat, and while Ivar’s death doesn’t come as a complete surprise, it’s narrative execution does. We see his leg and will give way several times during the battle, but it’s his final stand that’s a bit puzzling as he allows a young Saxon soldier free rein to kill him. “Don’t be afraid,” Ivar tells the man, but the complexity of this brief scene also includes Alfred who witnesses the event from mere yards away. Despite viewing the Vikings as savages, Alfred watches the tender scene as Hvitserk holds his dying brother in his arms. “Just leave me here with my brother for a moment,” he tells the now kneeling king, who is so moved by what he sees that he immediately crosses himself. As the camera zooms out to an aerial shot looking down on the three men and Alfred’s burning cross, we can’t help but view this as the Christian God and the Norse gods looking down on these brave soldiers.

However, the larger twist to come out of the Wessex battle occurs when Hvitserk talks to Ivar’s grave and tells him to “enjoy Valhalla, brother, while it still exists.” While leaving the old ways behind has clearly been a central theme of the episode, this statement acknowledges that even their religious beliefs may need to be re-examined. We get our first hint that something’s afoot with Hvitserk when we see him brought to Wessex on a cart after his wounds have clearly been carefully dressed by Alfred’s surgeons. The flash forward to his decision to embrace Christianity and leave the Norse gods behind fits nicely with his father’s curiosity of faith. And how perfect that Alfred tells Hvitserk that from now on he’ll be known as “Athelstan, our brother in Christ.” The call back to Ragnar’s relationship with his Christian friend just works.

Is there ambiguity in that conversion? Hvitserk, recall, had a fraught relationship with mushrooms.

On the Nova Scotian coast, one Viking gets a bad case of gold fever, and things could have gone quite wrong between the castaways and the locals.

Nevertheless, when Naad asks about gold, we know where this is headed, and Ubbe’s response to the murder of the young tribe member is sure and unambiguous. What’s left to ponder is how the leader Pekitaulet (Carmen Moore) will react to this violent act. There seems to be no question the punishment will be swift and severe, but the initial choice of the Blood Eagle contradicts Ubbe’s desire to move forward rather than look to the past. Had he carried out the punishment, its savage brutality and cruelty may have had the opposite effect Ubbe intends. Fortunately, he changes tact and slits Naad’s throat instead, calling on the “eye for an eye” system of justice. It’s a wise decision.

With Ubbe and Torvi at the helm, it seems likely that the two groups will not only peacefully coexist but actually thrive as they openly share their collective knowledge. Still, it’s wise that Pekitaulet explains her stance in no uncertain terms. “When we said you were welcome to this place, we did not mean you were welcome to possess it.” Even so it’s what happens next that shows the untapped potential inherent in this land. So moved by her words, Torvi hugs Pekitaulet with such emotion that it’s clear, not only do the two women understand each other, they’re in total agreement. It’s a truly beautiful moment.

Thus we conclude with two more intrusions of contemporary sensibilities: female chieftans Norse and Native, and a possible foreshadowing of a misunderstanding many moons into the future, when the inhabitants of Manhattan Island might have thought they were trading away trapping and fishing rights, and the Dutch might have thought they were buying real estate.  That Vinland state of mind again?