Beyond the reach of medieval Christendom, Viking-age Scandinavia drew its ideas about gender less from scripture than from myth, law, and the practical demands of life in a raiding and trading world. Luke Daly explores how women could wield real authority—as estate managers, property holders, ritual figures, and, at times, political actors—within a society that was still hierarchical and often violent.
By Luke Daly
Beyond the cathedrals and the long shadow cast by Rome lay societies whose moral and social assumptions were not governed by the cross. In these regions, most notably pre-Christian Scandinavia, gender relations were shaped less by biblical exegesis than by myth, custom, and pragmatic necessity. The result was not an absence of hierarchy or violence, but a social order in which women could exercise authority and agency in ways that would have appeared unfamiliar, even unsettling, to many Christian contemporaries.
This article examines the position of women in Viking society, tracing the contours of power, social expectation, and ritual significance, while considering the broader implications for medieval gender norms. By situating Scandinavian practices within their own cosmological, legal, and economic frameworks, it is possible to gain a more nuanced understanding of women’s roles in a non-Christian context.
Creation, Cosmology, and Gender Parity
The Norns, painting by Hans Thoma in 1899 – Wikimedia Commons
To appreciate the social position of women in Viking society, one must begin with cosmology. Norse mythology did more than explain the origins of the world; it established the assumptions upon which social expectations were built. Unlike the Christian narrative of Genesis, Norse creation stories did not locate disorder in female transgression, nor did they derive woman from man. Instead, they presented a universe brought into being through balance, interaction, and interdependence.
According to the Prose Edda, creation began with the yawning void of Ginnungagap, flanked by the icy realm of Niflheim and the fiery world of Muspelheim. From the meeting of cold and heat emerged life itself. Ymir, progenitor of the giants, was born alongside Audumla, the great cow whose milk sustained existence in the frozen abyss. Audumla’s role was not incidental. As she licked the salt from the ice, she uncovered Búri, ancestor of the gods. Creation, in this telling, depended upon nourishment and revelation rather than dominance or fall.
The implications are significant. Femininity was not marginal to the origins of the cosmos, nor was it associated with moral failure. Even when Odin and his brothers later kill Ymir and fashion the world from his body, they act within a universe already shaped by female presence. Power in Norse myth was violent, but it was not exclusively male in origin.
Humanity itself began without hierarchy. Askr and Embla were created together from trees by Odin, Vili, and Vé, each receiving breath, reason, warmth, and colour. Neither was fashioned from the other; neither bore responsibility for cosmic rupture. In contrast to the Christian narrative of Eve and the Fall, Norse myth establishes ontological parity between the sexes from the outset. Fate itself is governed by women: the Norns Urðr, Verðandi, and Skuld, who weave the destinies of gods and men alike. This parity is reinforced throughout the pantheon. Goddesses such as Frigg, Freyja, Idunn, and Skadi embody a wide range of masculine and feminine attributes without being confined to a single moral role. Freyja’s authority is particularly revealing. She receives half of the slain into Fólkvangr, a privilege that rivals Odin’s claim over Valhalla. The most inexorable force in Norse thought is explicitly female.
The mythic tradition, therefore, legitimises expectations of female influence in social, ritual, and political spheres. Women are not merely adjuncts to male authority; they participate in, and sometimes direct, the structuring of both mortal and divine life.
Economic Authority and Domestic Management
Odendisa Runestone in, Västmanland, Sweden. Photo by Achird / Wikimedia Commons
The economic realities of the Viking Age further expanded women’s scope for action. Long-distance raiding, trading, and settlement drew men away for extended periods, leaving women to manage farms, supervise labour, and protect family interests. This was not exceptional behaviour but a structural feature of Scandinavian society.
Runestones provide particularly clear evidence. Many commemorate women not merely as wives or mothers, but as capable and authoritative figures. In Västmanland, Odindisa is praised as an unparalleled estate manager; in Norway, a young girl named Astrid is celebrated as “the most capable girl in Hadeland.” Such inscriptions suggest that female competence was publicly recognised and culturally valued.
Inheritance practices likewise point to qualified autonomy. While sons generally received larger shares, daughters could inherit land, particularly in the absence of male heirs. In Denmark, maternal lineage could even underpin royal legitimacy. Svein Estridsson’s claim to the Danish throne rested not on his father’s status but on descent through his mother, the sister of King Cnut.
Archaeology reinforces this picture. Elite female burials display wealth and ritual significance comparable to those of men. The Oseberg ship burial, the most lavish grave of the Viking Age, contained the remains of two women interred with extraordinary goods. The ship itself was purpose-built as a funerary monument. These women were not peripheral figures; they occupied the centre of elite social and ritual life.
Marriage, Sexuality, and Legal Rights
Marriage in Viking society contrasts sharply with contemporary Christian norms. It functioned as an alliance between households rather than a sacrament. Women contributed a dowry; men provided a bride-price. Together these formed the woman’s personal property, over which she retained legal control. Divorce was permitted and could be initiated by women, a fact that astonished Arab observers in Hedeby and Sjaelland, who noted that “the wife divorces when she wishes.”
Sexual norms likewise confounded Christian and Islamic expectations. Polygyny existed, particularly among elites, but this did not necessarily equate to female subordination. Households could be complex, accommodating wives, concubines, and servants. Same-sex relationships were not conceptualised in modern terms but appear to have been tolerated within a broader sexual pragmatism. Women could exercise choice, negotiate alliances, and assert authority over intimate and domestic arrangements.
Slavery, Ritual, and Mortuary Practices
The position of women at the bottom of society presents a more complex picture. Female slaves laboured in fields and households and were subject to sexual exploitation. Some could rise within household hierarchies; others met brutal ends. Yet even here, women remained central to ritual meaning. Ibn Fadlan’s account of Rus funerary sacrifice vividly describes female slaves accompanying their masters into death, underscoring the intertwining of gender, hierarchy, and religious ritual.
Among the free, status depended more upon land and lineage than sex. Women could speak at assemblies, seek legal protection, and in some cases travel widely. Wealth, property, and ancestry were the critical markers of authority; gender was important, but not determinative.
Comparative Reflections: Norse and Christian Worlds
Valkyrie figure made of silver with gilding and niello – National Museum, Denmark. Item number C 39227
Viking society complicates any singular narrative of medieval womanhood. Gender roles were not fixed across Europe but were shaped by theology, economy, and myth. Norse society was violent and unequal, yet it offered women pathways to authority and autonomy that challenge assumptions of inevitability. Unlike the Christian world, in which Eve’s narrative underpinned theological arguments for female subordination, Norse myth and custom permitted female authority in domestic, ritual, and sometimes political spheres. These observations are not simply anecdotal. They are supported by runic inscriptions, burial evidence, legal codes, and contemporary travel accounts. Norse women had the right to manage property, inherit wealth, initiate divorce, and participate in religious and martial activities. They could exercise agency within the household, the community, and occasionally beyond.
To recognise this is not to romanticise Norse society. It was hierarchical, often violent, and constrained in numerous ways. But it does provoke contemplation that patriarchal control was neither universal nor inevitable. Women could hold power, influence events, and shape communities. Their authority was legitimised through myth, ritual, and law, rather than being a contingent concession from male-dominated institutions.
From estate managers to seeresses, warriors to pilgrims, Norse women demonstrated the range of autonomy possible in societies that allowed female agency to be expressed in ways seldom paralleled elsewhere in medieval Europe. In exploring their lives, we are forced to reconsider the assumption that medieval womanhood was universally constrained and dependent. The Viking world, with its gods, goddesses, and societal structures, reveals that gender, like power, was historically contingent and culturally mediated.
Luke Daly is a medieval historian of the 12th and 13th century with particular focus on English monasticism. In 2025, he was listed in BBC HistoryExtra’s ’30 Under 30′ for his work in the field. He is the author of Women of the Middle Ages and Medieval Saints and their Sins, among other books.
Beyond the reach of medieval Christendom, Viking-age Scandinavia drew its ideas about gender less from scripture than from myth, law, and the practical demands of life in a raiding and trading world. Luke Daly explores how women could wield real authority—as estate managers, property holders, ritual figures, and, at times, political actors—within a society that was still hierarchical and often violent.
By Luke Daly
Beyond the cathedrals and the long shadow cast by Rome lay societies whose moral and social assumptions were not governed by the cross. In these regions, most notably pre-Christian Scandinavia, gender relations were shaped less by biblical exegesis than by myth, custom, and pragmatic necessity. The result was not an absence of hierarchy or violence, but a social order in which women could exercise authority and agency in ways that would have appeared unfamiliar, even unsettling, to many Christian contemporaries.
This article examines the position of women in Viking society, tracing the contours of power, social expectation, and ritual significance, while considering the broader implications for medieval gender norms. By situating Scandinavian practices within their own cosmological, legal, and economic frameworks, it is possible to gain a more nuanced understanding of women’s roles in a non-Christian context.
Creation, Cosmology, and Gender Parity
To appreciate the social position of women in Viking society, one must begin with cosmology. Norse mythology did more than explain the origins of the world; it established the assumptions upon which social expectations were built. Unlike the Christian narrative of Genesis, Norse creation stories did not locate disorder in female transgression, nor did they derive woman from man. Instead, they presented a universe brought into being through balance, interaction, and interdependence.
According to the Prose Edda, creation began with the yawning void of Ginnungagap, flanked by the icy realm of Niflheim and the fiery world of Muspelheim. From the meeting of cold and heat emerged life itself. Ymir, progenitor of the giants, was born alongside Audumla, the great cow whose milk sustained existence in the frozen abyss. Audumla’s role was not incidental. As she licked the salt from the ice, she uncovered Búri, ancestor of the gods. Creation, in this telling, depended upon nourishment and revelation rather than dominance or fall.
The implications are significant. Femininity was not marginal to the origins of the cosmos, nor was it associated with moral failure. Even when Odin and his brothers later kill Ymir and fashion the world from his body, they act within a universe already shaped by female presence. Power in Norse myth was violent, but it was not exclusively male in origin.
Humanity itself began without hierarchy. Askr and Embla were created together from trees by Odin, Vili, and Vé, each receiving breath, reason, warmth, and colour. Neither was fashioned from the other; neither bore responsibility for cosmic rupture. In contrast to the Christian narrative of Eve and the Fall, Norse myth establishes ontological parity between the sexes from the outset. Fate itself is governed by women: the Norns Urðr, Verðandi, and Skuld, who weave the destinies of gods and men alike. This parity is reinforced throughout the pantheon. Goddesses such as Frigg, Freyja, Idunn, and Skadi embody a wide range of masculine and feminine attributes without being confined to a single moral role. Freyja’s authority is particularly revealing. She receives half of the slain into Fólkvangr, a privilege that rivals Odin’s claim over Valhalla. The most inexorable force in Norse thought is explicitly female.
The mythic tradition, therefore, legitimises expectations of female influence in social, ritual, and political spheres. Women are not merely adjuncts to male authority; they participate in, and sometimes direct, the structuring of both mortal and divine life.
Economic Authority and Domestic Management
The economic realities of the Viking Age further expanded women’s scope for action. Long-distance raiding, trading, and settlement drew men away for extended periods, leaving women to manage farms, supervise labour, and protect family interests. This was not exceptional behaviour but a structural feature of Scandinavian society.
Runestones provide particularly clear evidence. Many commemorate women not merely as wives or mothers, but as capable and authoritative figures. In Västmanland, Odindisa is praised as an unparalleled estate manager; in Norway, a young girl named Astrid is celebrated as “the most capable girl in Hadeland.” Such inscriptions suggest that female competence was publicly recognised and culturally valued.
Inheritance practices likewise point to qualified autonomy. While sons generally received larger shares, daughters could inherit land, particularly in the absence of male heirs. In Denmark, maternal lineage could even underpin royal legitimacy. Svein Estridsson’s claim to the Danish throne rested not on his father’s status but on descent through his mother, the sister of King Cnut.
Archaeology reinforces this picture. Elite female burials display wealth and ritual significance comparable to those of men. The Oseberg ship burial, the most lavish grave of the Viking Age, contained the remains of two women interred with extraordinary goods. The ship itself was purpose-built as a funerary monument. These women were not peripheral figures; they occupied the centre of elite social and ritual life.
Marriage, Sexuality, and Legal Rights
Marriage in Viking society contrasts sharply with contemporary Christian norms. It functioned as an alliance between households rather than a sacrament. Women contributed a dowry; men provided a bride-price. Together these formed the woman’s personal property, over which she retained legal control. Divorce was permitted and could be initiated by women, a fact that astonished Arab observers in Hedeby and Sjaelland, who noted that “the wife divorces when she wishes.”
Sexual norms likewise confounded Christian and Islamic expectations. Polygyny existed, particularly among elites, but this did not necessarily equate to female subordination. Households could be complex, accommodating wives, concubines, and servants. Same-sex relationships were not conceptualised in modern terms but appear to have been tolerated within a broader sexual pragmatism. Women could exercise choice, negotiate alliances, and assert authority over intimate and domestic arrangements.
Slavery, Ritual, and Mortuary Practices
The position of women at the bottom of society presents a more complex picture. Female slaves laboured in fields and households and were subject to sexual exploitation. Some could rise within household hierarchies; others met brutal ends. Yet even here, women remained central to ritual meaning. Ibn Fadlan’s account of Rus funerary sacrifice vividly describes female slaves accompanying their masters into death, underscoring the intertwining of gender, hierarchy, and religious ritual.
Among the free, status depended more upon land and lineage than sex. Women could speak at assemblies, seek legal protection, and in some cases travel widely. Wealth, property, and ancestry were the critical markers of authority; gender was important, but not determinative.
Comparative Reflections: Norse and Christian Worlds
Viking society complicates any singular narrative of medieval womanhood. Gender roles were not fixed across Europe but were shaped by theology, economy, and myth. Norse society was violent and unequal, yet it offered women pathways to authority and autonomy that challenge assumptions of inevitability. Unlike the Christian world, in which Eve’s narrative underpinned theological arguments for female subordination, Norse myth and custom permitted female authority in domestic, ritual, and sometimes political spheres. These observations are not simply anecdotal. They are supported by runic inscriptions, burial evidence, legal codes, and contemporary travel accounts. Norse women had the right to manage property, inherit wealth, initiate divorce, and participate in religious and martial activities. They could exercise agency within the household, the community, and occasionally beyond.
To recognise this is not to romanticise Norse society. It was hierarchical, often violent, and constrained in numerous ways. But it does provoke contemplation that patriarchal control was neither universal nor inevitable. Women could hold power, influence events, and shape communities. Their authority was legitimised through myth, ritual, and law, rather than being a contingent concession from male-dominated institutions.
From estate managers to seeresses, warriors to pilgrims, Norse women demonstrated the range of autonomy possible in societies that allowed female agency to be expressed in ways seldom paralleled elsewhere in medieval Europe. In exploring their lives, we are forced to reconsider the assumption that medieval womanhood was universally constrained and dependent. The Viking world, with its gods, goddesses, and societal structures, reveals that gender, like power, was historically contingent and culturally mediated.
Luke Daly is a medieval historian of the 12th and 13th century with particular focus on English monasticism. In 2025, he was listed in BBC HistoryExtra’s ’30 Under 30′ for his work in the field. He is the author of Women of the Middle Ages and Medieval Saints and their Sins, among other books.
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