With black-and-white drawings throughout, here are thirty-two classic myths that bring the pre-Christian Scandinavian world to life and bear witness to the courage, passion, and boundless spirit that were hallmarks of the Norse world.  Gods, humans, and monstrous beasts engage in prodigious drinking bouts, contests of strength, greedy schemes for gold, and lusty encounters. Included are tales of Odin, the wisest and most fearsome of all the gods; Thor, the thundering powerhouse; and the exquisite mafic-wielding Freyja. “Kevin Crossley-Holland retells the Norse myths in clear, attractive prose ... An excellent introduction, notes, and a glossary provide mythological and historical backgrounds and suggest parallels with myths in other parts of the world.” —The Denver Post "This beautiful retelling of tales from ancient Norse mythology features Odin, Thor, Loki, and many more fascinating figures." — Booklist Drawing on a wide variety of sources, the author has re-created 32 classic Norse Myths that compete in power with Greek mythology. KEVIN CROSSLEY-HOLLAND is a poet, translator, playwright, and award-winning author of children's books. Honors he has received include the Guardian Children's Fiction Award and the Tir Na n-Og Award. His King Arthur trilogy has sold more than a million copies and has been translated into twenty-five languages. An Honorary Fellow of St. Edmund Hall, Oxford, and a Fellow of the Royal Society of Literature, he lives in East Anglia. THE CREATION   Burning ice, biting flame; that is how life began.   In the south is a realm called Muspell. That region flickers with dancing flames. It seethes and it shines. No one can endure it except those born into it. Black Surt is there; he sits on the furthest reach of that land, brandishing a flaming sword; he is already waiting for the end when he will rise and savage the gods and whelm the whole world with fire.   In the north is a realm called Niflheim. It is packed with ice and covered with vast sweeps of snow. In the heart of that region lies the spring Hvergelmir and that is the source of eleven rider named the Elivagar: they are cool Svol and Gunnthra the defiant, Fjorm and bubbling Fimbulthul, fearsome Slid and storming Hrid, Sylg, Ylg, broad Vid and Leipt which streaks like lightning, and freezing Gjoll.   Between these realms there once stretched a huge and seeming emptiness; this was Ginnungagap. The rivers that sprang from Hvergelmir streamed into the void. The yeasty venom in them thickened and congealed like slag, and the rivers turned into ice. That venom also spat out drizzle—an unending dismal hagger that, as soon as it settles, turned into rime. So it went on until all the northern part of Ginnungagap was heavy with layers of ice and hoar frost, a desolate place haunted by gusts and skuthers of wind.   Just as the northern part was frozen, the southern was molten and glowing, but the middle of Ginnungagap was as mild as hanging air on a summer evening. There, the warm breath drifting north from Muspell met the rime from Niflheim; it touched it and played over it, and the ice began to thaw and drip. Life quickened in those drops, and they took the form of a giant. He was called Ymir.   Tmir was a frost giant; he was evil from the first. While he slept he began to sweat. A man and woman grew out of the ooze under his left armpit, and one of his legs fathered a son on the other leg. Ymir was the forefather of all frost giants, and they called him Aurgelmir.   As more of the ice in Ginnungagap melted, the fluid took the form of a cow. She was called Audumla. Ymir fed off the four rivers of milk that coursed from her teats, and Audumla fed off the ice itself. She licked the salty blocks and by the evening of the first day a man’s hair had come out of the ice. Audumla licked more and by the evening of the second day a man’s head had come. Audumla licked again and by the evening of the third day was the whole man had come. His name was Buri.   Buri was tall and strong and good-looking. In time he had a son called Bor and Bor married a daughter of Bolthor, one of the frost giants. Her name was Bestla and she mothered three children, all of them sons. The first was Odin, the second was Vili, and the third was Ve.   All this was in the beginning, before there were waves of sand, the sea’s cool waves, waving grass. There was no earth and no heaven above; only Muspell and Niflheim, and, between them Ginnungagap.   The three sons of Bor had no liking for Ymir and the growing gang of unruly, brutal frost giants; as time went on, they grew to hate them. At last they attacked Ymir and killed him. His wounds were like springs; so much blood streamed from them, and so fast, that the flood drowned all the frost giants except Bergelmir and his wife. They embarked in their boat—it was made out of a hollowed tree trunk—and rode on a tide of gore.   Odin and Vili and Ve hoisted the body of the dead frost giant on to thei