The story of Egil son of Grim the Bald (Skalla-Grim) is one of the prose works from medieval Iceland known as sagas, and of the major sagas it probably most closely approximates the image popularly associated with the word. The story is multi-generational. It features Viking adventures, and its primary hero is a devotee of Odin, god of kings, warriors, and poets. The hero's grandfather is rumored to be a werewolf, and the hero, himself both warrior and skald (poet), has thrilling encounters with berserkers and outlaws, and engages in a feud with a (perfectly historical) king, Eric Bloodaxe, whose wife (later the Queen-Mother) is a sorceress.
Anyone expecting the hero to be a handsome Norseman from a storybook is going to be in for a shock, though. There are several such, including Egil's beloved brother, but, like some of his relatives, Egil himself is actually outstandingly ugly. And his behavior varies from the admirable to the repellent -- even in Viking-Age eyes. (An explanation for some of this has been proposed recently, pointing out stray details in the verse and prose that suggest a now-recognizable medical disorder, possibly genetic.)
The work-a-day life of medieval Iceland, with law-suits arising from it, central to the majority of the Sagas of the Icelanders, shows up only at intervals, as the action ranges from the Arctic Circle to England, and the central North Atlantic to the eastern Baltic.
"Egil's Saga" is thought by some to be the earliest of the "Sagas of the Icelanders," and is in some ways a good, although atypical, introduction to them. Egil's circle of friends, enemies (especially Queen-Mother Gunnhild), and family members (most notably his equally formidable, if much more attractive, daughter, Thorgerd) show up in other sagas, especially "Njal's Saga' and "Laxdaela Saga."
Egil was counted as an ancestor by Snorri Sturluson, the author of the "Prose Edda," an explanation of myths, heroic legends and traditional verse forms, and of the "Heimskringla," a massive history of Norway through biographies of its kings. Snorri is one of the few Icelandic authors of the period whose name and attributed works both survive. The temptation to assign this saga to him is understandable, and has been championed by distinguished scholars. It doesn't seem to have been shared by the medieval scribes who transmitted the text.
The theory was accepted by the first English translator of "Egil's Saga," W.C. Green, whose version of 1893 was (inevitably) based on an obsolete edition of the text. He rendered it into a rather stuffy, and prudish, modern English, despite the more elegant examples of Dasent's "Story of Burnt Njal" and the whole library of translations by William Morris and Eirikur Magnusson. The Reverend Green also could not resist moralizing over "good" and "bad" elements in Egil's character, in a way that would at best have amused the old pagan. (And misses the mark even more, if one accepts that the short-tempered Egil was in pain from Paget's Disease long before other, debilitating, symptoms became marked in later years.)
It has the advantage of being out of copyright, though and, in addition to the Kessinger reprinting, various versions are available on-line, including at least one which claims to have been revised to bring it closer to the Icelandic original, not least by restoring some passages omitted to avoid giving offense to Victorian sensibilities. (In Reverend Green's world, men don't need to "go outside" after drinking all night for any *specified* reason...)
Green's translation has some annoying minor features, too. He followed the dubious practice of tacking on vowels to names, to make sure his readers could tell the boys from the girls. So Gunnhildr -- everyone else's Queen Gunnhild -- shows up as Gunnhilda, and the lady Hildirid (Old Icelandic Hildiridhr) becomes Hildirida. Perhaps Reverend Green should have remembered that Gunnhild was reported to be a sorceress, and known to be spiteful (a prominent factor in this saga, and several others, including the great "Njal's Saga") before meddling with her name!
As for the poems, which are one of the glories of the work; let us just say that Green's English versions are lacking in any obvious merits, technical or literary, but could have been much worse; at least, they aren't too bad to read.
Anyone reading Green's translation, even an "improved" version, should remember that it is NOT a perfect introduction to the sagas in general, or to this one in particular. And the saga has been fortunate in its twentieth-century translators; there have been five later renderings in English
Green's version was followed, over a generation later, in 1930, by a careful, elaborately annotated, translation by E.R. Eddison, whose fantasy novel "The Worm Ouroboros" and historical novel of Viking-Age Sweden, "Styrbiorn the Strong," both had been published in the 1920s. He greatly admired Dasent and Morris and Magnusson, whose influence is evident on every page; but he rather outdid them.
Eddison's version, originally issued by Cambridge University Press, is not for everyone, but has many merits. Alas, that original printing is hard to find, and expensive, and the reprinting by Greenwood in 1968, and is not always available either. A new, reasonably priced, reprinting is much to be desired. Given the prices usually asked for it, my advice to the curious would be to try a library. (I count myself fortunate to have acquired a copy in the 1970s.)
Now, as far as the quality of the translation goes, views are mixed. It helped that Eddison was able to use an advance text of what was then the latest scholarly edition, published in 1933, which was still the standard for the next three translations.
However, Eddison's attempt to approximate the sounds and syntax of Old Norse with an English style using as many related words as possible, instead of more familiar equivalents derived from French or Latin, takes getting used to; and some people never do. Eddison is, of course, rather scornful of Green, both for his Victorian English and his prudishness. But he is rather more programmatic than the other Victorians he took as models.
Now the sagas themselves are notable for an unadorned prose, so the very concept of Eddison's translation was criticized by scholars who reviewed it at the time -- although they added that they found that the result was better than Eddison's theory.
They did not complain that Eddison's versions of Egil's major poems (which are extremely impressive) are carefully annotated because they badly need the explanations. The language of the skalds (the high-class poets of the medieval Scandinavian world) was esoteric and convoluted in its own time, Egil was renowned for impressively "hard" poems, and Eddison's choice of language and style is unquestionably appropriate for the verse, if not the prose.
It took thirty years for the next version to appear, a much more colloquial translation by Gwyn Jones, for the American-Scandinavian Foundation, was published in 1960, and reprinted in 1970. Jones' version is less "full-bodied" than Eddison's, but still an impressive rendering of the saga's lean prose. (Although I can't agree with Christine Fell's view that his was "the first readable English version.") Jones' treatment of Egil's poems is lucid, but hardly even attempts to emulate Eddison's feat of producing verse in something like the original meters. It too, unfortunately, is out of print, but, unlike Eddison's translation, Jones' is often available, at comparatively reasonable prices. It too could do with a reprinting!
This leaves three more recent versions. The translation, as "Egils' Saga," by Christine Fell, with the poems translated by John Lucas (a sensible division of labor), was published in the old Everyman's Library in 1975. It was included in Everyman Paperbacks in 1985, with some revisions, and reprinted in 1993 with additional bibliography, but seems to be out of print. It may be picked up in the current Everyman Paperback Classics series. I certainly hope so, since it is very readable, although I at first found the prose a little flat after long familiarity with Eddison. The notes and indexes are the closest approximation to Eddison's in a translation, and the scholarship is obviously much more up-to-date than 1930.
(For those who are truly serious students, the Viking Society for Northern Research has announced a new (2003) edition of the Icelandic text, as "Egils Saga," edited by Bjarni Einarsson, with annotations in English, available through Cornell University Press [not seen]. This should supersede the commentary in any existing English translation.)
The Fell / Lucas translation was followed immediately by a Penguin Classics version by Hermann Palsson and Paul Edwards (1976), which is quite enjoyable. The Glossary of Proper Names is a fairly good index of the characters, and the maps are usable. Footnotes provide translations of some place-names, and a few other details, but the legal issues at stake in various parts of the saga, and the major historical problems whenever Egil brushes up with documented events, cry out for annotation.
The five-volume translation series of "The Complete Saga of the Icelanders," published in 1997, includes Bernard Scudder's version of "Egil's Saga." His translation takes the lead place in a recent (2000) Penguin Classics volume, "The Sagas of the Icelanders," a massive trade paperback based on "The Complete Sagas." It is there one of ten sagas, and seven shorter tales.
It was also announced as a separate volume in the Penguin Classics for Spring 2005 (as "Egil's Saga," of course), which I have not yet examined. Scudder's version is similar in style to the Jones, Fell, and Palsson and Edwards translation, and his rendering of the poems aims at the meaning more than the style, following Jones and Palsson and Edwards, rather than Eddison or (the less extreme) Lucas in trying to give an impression of the artistry of the verse.
In practical terms, for most people this comes down to Green, in one an on-line or other digital version, and a translation from Penguin; probably Scudder's, if it is the only one Penguin keeps in their catalogue.
Reprintings of Eddison, Jones, and Fell would all be welcome; although a version of Green is not without interest, too.
I would NOT advise relying on any version of Green's translation exclusively, but it might be consulted if convenient -- and its electronic forms may be searchable, which can be handy if you have fast connection. Various publishers have offered e-book pdf versions of it, which are even handier.
For those interested in a modern fiction writer's view of Egil and his associates, the late Poul Anderson's "Mother of Kings" is an interesting quasi-historical novel in which Egil is a major character. (I call it quasi-historical because, as Anderson warns, the story adopts attractive medieval legends about Gunnhild on some key points, instead of following the historical evidence; and a fantasy interpretation, although not required, is not ruled out.).