Full Terms & Conditions of access and use can be found athttp://www.tandfonline.com/action/journalInformation?journalCode=sarc20

Download by: [89.160.194.211] Date: 26 December 2016, At: 02:17

Norwegian Archaeological Review

ISSN: 0029-3652 (Print) 1502-7678 (Online) Journal homepage: http://www.tandfonline.com/loi/sarc20

Becoming Christian: A Matter of EverydayResistance and Negotiation

Steinunn Kristjánsdóttir

To cite this article: Steinunn Kristjánsdóttir (2015) Becoming Christian: A Matter ofEveryday Resistance and Negotiation, Norwegian Archaeological Review, 48:1, 27-45, DOI:10.1080/00293652.2015.1015602

To link to this article: http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/00293652.2015.1015602

Published online: 12 Mar 2015.

Submit your article to this journal

Article views: 532

View related articles

View Crossmark data

Becoming Christian: A Matter of EverydayResistance and Negotiation

STEINUNN KRISTJÁNSDÓTTIR

The diverse appearances of church buildings, iconography and altered burialpractices have commonly been used to exemplify the expansion of Christianityin early medieval Europe. Less emphasis has been placed on how the commonEuropean dealt with the Christian transformation in daily life, perhaps becauseof the tendency in research to distinguish ritual actions from secular. Tobecome Christian did not necessarily entail greater religiousness or deeperreligious devotion but centred rather on how people synchronized their every-day lives, both religious and secular, in accordance with Christian doctrine andthe laws imposed by the Roman Church. However, social transformations donot emerge exclusively from political or administrative institutions, such as theChurch or other ruling authority; they also emerge interactively, through thegeneral public, who are equally capable of exercising power by taking part insocietal discourse. With reference to examples from early medieval Iceland, thisarticle argues for the application of Foucault’s theory of power relations andeveryday resistance to research on the adoption of Christianity, beyond timeand space.

Keywords: post-colonialism; power relations; Foucault; dualism,Christianization

INTRODUCTION

Research on the Christianization process inNorthern Europe has long focused on theinteractive encounters between the Christianreligion and the various regional and localpre-Christian beliefs that flourished concur-rently across the Continent (see, e.g., Andrén2005, 2014, Nordeide 2011a, Brink 2013).However, less, but growing, attention hasbeen devoted to the way the Europeans orga-nized their day-to-day life in accordance withChristian doctrine without making binarydistinctions between churchly and worldlyactivities (see, e.g., Simpson et al. 2005,

Pluskowski 2010, Gilchrist 2012, Milek2012). In fact, becoming Christian need nothave involved greater religiousness or a dee-per devotion to the Christian faith, althoughsuch devotion must surely have existed inmany cases. What it did involve was theRoman Church’s implementation of newlaws, norms and guidelines affecting thedaily life of common Europeans and provok-ing responses from them. Thus the Christiantransformation was far from being a one-sided affair, forced upon the people by rulingauthorities such as the Church, kings orchieftains. It was brought about also by the

Steinunn Kristjánsdóttir, Department of Archaeology, University of Iceland and National Museum of Iceland, Reykjavík,Iceland. E-mail: sjk@hi.is

© 2015 Norwegian Archaeological Review

ARTICLE Norwegian Archaeological Review, 2015Vol. 48, No. 1, 27–45, http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/00293652.2015.1015602

general public who, according to Foucault’stheory on power relations and everyday resis-tance, are equally capable of exercisingpower by participating in the discourse ofthe society (Foucault 1982, 1988, 1994).Explicitly, according to Foucault (1994),power is not possessed but is exercisedthrough communication involving reciprocalreactions among individuals and groups.Christianity may therefore be seen as along-term transformation organized througheveryday resistance, reactions, negotiationsand compromises made by all members ofsociety in response to tensions and nuancesconstantly arising between traditional andpost-traditional habits in everyday life.In this article, the dichotomous categories

– pre-Christian and Christian, sacred andsecular, public and private – are set aside. Itis argued that to become Christian was asimultaneous ecclesiastical and worldly trans-formation taking place at all levels of medie-val European society. The late 11th-centurychurch site at Þórarinsstaðir in East Icelandis used to exemplify this and to show howIcelanders became Christian by dealing,through reciprocal interaction, with new andold traditions after the Conversion toChristianity in Iceland around AD 999/1000.The site features the various ecclesiastical andsecular commodities of the far-reaching net-work of Christianity in early medieval Europe(Kristjánsdóttir 2004). In fact, building achurch involved much more than a confessionof Christian faith or meeting the need to gainaccess to a religious place; it was a part ofbecoming Christian that simultaneouslybrought economic and political wealth to thechurch owner. In this manner, church build-ings, as material expressions of Christianity,may be regarded as examples of all-seeingpanopticism, which, according to Foucault(1977), is a strategy for power and control.Not only did medieval Northern Europeans

begin to build ecclesiastical buildings such aschurches while adopting Christianity; they like-wise began to modify their homes. Icelanders,for example, gradually replaced the traditional

Viking Age longhouses with dwelling housesfeaturing several separated rooms united by acentral passage. These changes have frequentlybeen interpreted through the lens of functionalrationalism as an adaptation to the coolingclimate of medieval times or, more recently,as having taken place while pre-Christian ritualpractices were moved from dwelling housesinto separately built churches. In this article,however, the focus is directed at whether theimpetus for the gradual alterations can beviewed as the result of the new family strategiesimposed by the Roman Church throughmonogamous marriage and clerical celibacy(Magnúsdóttir 2001, Karras 2012). The conse-cration of sexual relationships obviouslychallenged the traditional knowledge of coha-bitations in Nordic societies, which had longbeen based on alternative forms of extra-marital union, involving important propertyexchanges and inheritance of wealth.

THE TENSION BETWEEN THE OLDAND THE NEW

All societies are compounded of networks ofrelationships that are constantly evolving dueto new knowledge encountered and dealt withthrough cross-cultural contacts. Thereafter,societies receive the participants in these con-tacts and influence what they become, whilethese participants influence society throughtheir reactions. In this manner, the process ofbecoming may prove a useful lens throughwhich to examine power relations and every-day resistance during the adoption ofChristianity in early medieval Europe becauseof the innovative networks of relationshipsand knowledge that Christianity broughtabout. ‘Becoming’ is applied not as a meansof defining binary relations and the resistanceof one against the other, or some sort ofassimilation of two clearly delineated parts –for instance, pre-Christian and Christian,secular and sacred – but rather as a meansof studying the reactions arising due to thereciprocal struggle between old and newhabits and norms. Specifically, the old and

28 Steinunn Kristjánsdóttir

the new may be observed not as two distinctmechanisms but rather as coexisting elementsand premises that are constantly overlapping.

James Deetz (1977) used the process ofbecoming to clarify the interaction betweenEuropean colonists and indigenous groups inAmerica during the 17th and 18th centuries.With his research, which is based on a post-colonialist approach, he criticized the prevail-ing ideas about cultural plurality or binaryrelations and called for a more complexunderstanding of cultural contacts appearingin daily life. Instead of trying to identifyblended elements or untainted cultural traitsfrom each of the groups concerned, he focusedon how the material culture reflected theirworld-views in the new context of a colonizedsociety. Deetz argued that both groups – theEuropean colonists and the natives – becameAmerican in their own way by resisting andcompromising within and between old andnew habits in everyday life.

The concept of becoming can be used toexamine all developing and transformingprocesses in which new forces and strugglesare produced and reproduced through con-tinuous communication. For instance, it hasbeen used to describe other cultural contactsoccurring during immigration processes, suchas the encounters between Canadians and theIcelanders who migrated to Canada in thelate 19th century. This study shows thatimmigrants moving from Iceland to Canadawere seen as having become Canadians bydealing with new habits in their everydaypractices, which were often watered downby memories of old habits from their nativecountry. In this manner, the tension betweentraditional and post-traditional habits wascoloured by the immigrants’ awareness oftheir old Icelandic identity and their newCanadian identity (Edwald 2012).

Surely, in a post-colonial approach theprocess of becoming need not be seen asinvolving interactive relations between differ-ent cultures and societies, such as betweennatives and colonists, at all. It can also centreon the study of social change in general and

how material culture and habits are com-monly negotiated for the management ofeveryday life. In fact, all cultural forms andidentities are the creation of mutual colonialencountering, which means that the movementof people and things across spaces constantlyinvents improvised values, habits and identi-ties. As the examples above suggest, in post-colonial studies, fixed boundaries such as thosebetween classes, gender, people, nations, reli-gious worlds and culture are eliminated andemphasis placed instead on coexistence andsustained encountering. At the same time,post-colonialism underlines Foucault’s ideasabout power as being exercised by all partici-pants in society, those who occupy a minorplace in the ideal society – the subalterns – asmuch as the general public, the ruling author-ity, or the elite (Said 1978, Spivak 1988, pp.24–28, Bhabha 1994, Gosden 2001, pp.241–247, 2004, p. 3, Young 2009, pp. 13–25).As the stated circumstances suggest, the

concept of becoming can be used to describeall social transformation and developmentbeyond time and space. Further examplescan be found in modern-day computeriza-tion, when people became computerized bybuying computers or not but simply resistingdoing so when encountering the new techni-cal world, or in the modernization process ingeneral, which is based on the tensions ofmodernity: people became modern by pro-gressively resisting the old way of living andinventing new utensils and machines for theirold homes (see, e.g., Søland 2000, Thomas2004, Russell 2005, Loren and Beaudry 2006,Rúnarsdóttir 2006, Prescott and Glørstad2011). Similarly, the Christian transforma-tion brought about new knowledge that wascoloured by tensions between old and newhabits taking place through mutual and pro-vocative communication among all thoseinvolved in its development. Hence, duringthe Christianization process in early medievalEurope, new implements, ideas and habitswere gradually integrated into everyday lifethroughout the Continent. Some of themwere matters of religiosity while others were

Becoming Christian 29

not – and some were both – but all impro-vised existing values and identities (seeFig. 1).Nevertheless, it should be emphasized here

that the Christianization of Europe is stillongoing and will not end as long asChristianity exists. Christianity has been grow-ing for more than 2000 years and has becomeone of the largest world religions. It is tiedtogether through its practice, having grownout of Judaism, although Christian materialsymbols, such as churches, iconography andburials, all vary in accordance with their geo-graphical and cultural spread (Lane 2001, pp.148–149, 162). Thus, a pure-bred pre-Christianor Christian faith has never existed becauseboth are kaleidoscopic outcomes of their sus-tained meeting. So becoming Christian shouldbe approached as an uneven reciprocal process,not only chronologically and geographicallybut also individually and collectively, as isshown in the following text, with examplestaken from its initial stages during early med-ieval times in Iceland.

HOW ICELANDERS BECAMECHRISTIAN

While the myth of a cultural unity shared bythe Norse Vikings has rightly been renounced

and attention drawn instead to heterogeneityin Viking Age Scandinavian culture, it cannonetheless be stated that the expansion ofWestern Christendom brought about a newworld view that was shared by the inhabi-tants of Scandinavia and Europe (see, e.g.,Hugason 2000, Price 2002, Svanberg 2003,Behrend 2007, Abrams 2012, Andrén 2014).From AD 590 to AD 1517, the Roman Church,headed by the Pope, dominated the Westernworld through its complex and wide-rangingnetwork of archbishoprics. As time passed, thePope appointed all the European archbishops,who in turn chose each bishop in their respec-tive archbishoprics (Lane 2001, pp. 148–181,Sindbæk 2007, p. 70).

Icelanders officially submitted to the legis-lation of the Roman Church and convertedto Christianity at the turn of the 10th cen-tury, as the societies in the Orkney andFaeroe Islands, Norway and Greenland didsoon after. Ireland, Scotland, Wales, Englandand Germany had all adopted Christianitysome centuries earlier, and Denmark haddone so around AD 965. At the same time,the eastward expansion of Christianityresulted in the baptism of the Slavs and, afew centuries later, the Finns and the Balts.The Church in Iceland belonged to the arch-bishopric in Hamburg-Bremen until 1104,

Fig. 1. A turf house with a cross carved on the portal (© National Museum of Iceland, photographerRagnar Ásgeirsson).

30 Steinunn Kristjánsdóttir

when the first Nordic archbishopric wasestablished in Lund. From 1153 to1537, thetwo bishoprics in Iceland, Skálholt andHólar, were the part of the archbishopric inNidaros, along with Norway, Greenland, theFaeroes, the Hebrides and the Isle of Man.Northern Europe also had two other archbish-oprics, in Lund and Uppsala, with provincescovering Denmark, Sweden and Finland(Slupeki and Valor 2007, pp. 366–381,Sigurðsson 2008, pp. 66–77, Nordeide 2011a,pp. 74–79, Salonen 2013, p. 189).

In other respects, the historical memory ofhow Christianity came to Iceland is basedlargely on a single legend preserved inÍslendingabók (The book of Icelanders),which describes the adoption of theChristian faith as a single event occurringaround AD 999/1000 and entailing the conver-sion of all Icelanders. According to thislegendary account, recorded by Ari Þorgils-son in the early 12th century, the missionaryÞangbrandur was sent to Iceland in the late10th century by the king of Norway, ÓlafurTryggvason, himself a recent Christian con-vert. According to Þorgilsson, Þangbrandurconverted some of the leading chieftains inIceland, including Hallur of Síða, HjaltiSkeggjason and Gissur the White. Thiscaused a conflict in the Icelandic generalassembly, Alþingi, and introduced the possi-bility that the population would split intotwo groups following different laws, the tra-ditional laws and those of the Christians.However, Hallur of Síða made a deal withthe still-pagan law-speaker Þorgeir Þorkels-son Ljósvetningagoði (reigning from AD 985to 1001), who lay under his cloak for threedays contemplating the matter and ultimatelyconvinced the pagans to accept baptism(Íslendingabók 1968).

The Icelandic Conversion to Christianitythat took place at the general assembly inAD 999/1000 can undeniably be viewed as amomentous episode in the expansion ofmedieval Roman-Catholic Christianity inEurope, when other societies were about toconvert or had already done so. Moreover,

Þorgilsson’s account has greatly influencedthe subsequent understanding of theChristianization process in Iceland as a uni-lateral, top-down act enabling the worldlyauthority figures – the Icelandic chieftains –

to retain their leading position by inventingChristian legislation. Indeed, Ari Þorgilsson’sstory is a well-written metaphoric account ofhow the official acceptance of Christianity, theConversion, may have taken place in Iceland– or even in other areas of Europe. It describesthe leading chieftains making sweepingchanges in Icelanders’ everyday life by apply-ing Roman Catholic guidelines and laws as apart of the country’s structural government,but it largely excludes the reactions to that actand how those reactions affected the processof becoming Christian in Iceland. In essence,then, Þorgilsson’s story describes only the the-ory but not the practice.As is emphasized above, cultural evolution

is always based on relationships and knowl-edge; therefore, as soon as there is a reactiverelationship, there is power for everydayresistance against or acceptance of culturaltransformations. Power relations do notexclude the use of violence on behalf of theruling authority to force changes, but at thesame time they offer everyone engaged in thesocietal discourse the possibility of resisting,no matter how oppressive the society is(Spivak 1988, pp. 24–28, Foucault 1994,Young 2009, pp. 13–14). The earliest resis-tance to the new Christian guidelines inIceland appeared when the actualConversion took place. It centred on threedifferent dispensations, approved by thePope, on continued exposure of infants, con-sumption of horseflesh and the private prac-tice of pagan rituals (Aðalsteinsson 1999,Karlsson 2001, pp. 33–37). All three of thesedispensations were in opposition to basicchurch laws and norms in one way or another;for example, the exposure of infants can beviewed as an act equivalent to abortion, whichis forbidden in Roman Catholicism. However,Icelanders and other Catholic Europeans con-tinued requesting other dispensations as time

Becoming Christian 31

went on, such as asking permission not to usebread and wine during communion services inchurches. This was denied because of theimportance of using bread and wine tobecome the body, blood, soul and divinity ofChrist in Christian teachings (DI I 1857, pp.513–514).Still, as is emphasized above, the struggle

was certainly not one-sided. In some cases,the Pope had to protest formally againstbehaviour that ran counter to Christian doc-trine and laws, for instance, when Icelandersand other Germanic groups in Europe didnot comply with the Christian constructionof monogamous marriage and clerical celib-acy. The integration of the doctrine on thedesire and lusts of the self as an ever-threatening burden obviously challenged theprevailing traditions of sexual unions based onalternative forms of extra-marital relationship(Magnúsdóttir 2001, Gilchrist 2012, p. 124,Karras 2012, pp. 25–31). In addition to pro-hibiting the traditions of concubinage andcompanionship, the Church forbade marriagebetween persons related to each other byblood, such as siblings, first, second or thirdcousins or close relatives from a previous rela-tionship. Studies show, however, that theChurch was quite tolerant of deviationsfrom these tenets, as papal dispensations onmarriage-related matters were relativelycommon in the Nordic countries throughoutthe Catholic period, although not all peti-tioners received the dispensations theyrequested (Magnúsdóttir 2001, Salonen2013, pp. 181–208). During the period AD

1438–1531 alone, dispensations were givenin 145 cases in the archbishopric in Nidaros,including 10 in Iceland (Jørgensen andSaletnich 2004, pp. 31–52).However, soon after the adoption of

Christianity, the Christian monogamous mar-riage appears to have become the most com-mon form of sexual union among the laitythroughout Europe, including Iceland.Companionship, on the other hand, grew inimportance among the clergy and, to someextent, among chieftains as well, particularly

during the 14th century, and did not disappearuntil after the Reformation (Magnúsdóttir2001, p. 214). Companionship among theclergy was vigorously opposed by the Church,of course, not least because of the childrenproduced by such relationships. Nonetheless,it is well known that abbots, priors, priests andeven bishops had children throughout theCatholic period in Iceland, just as they didelsewhere in Europe (Jørgensen and Saletnich2004, Karras 2012). The most famous clericalperson in Iceland is the bishop Jón Arason,who was executed in 1550 along with his twosons because of their resistance to the Danishmonarchy in Iceland. Their execution histori-cally marks the end of the Catholic periodin Iceland (Ísleifsdóttir 1997, pp. 258–264).Arason fought against the LutheranReformation while simultaneously resistingthe Roman Catholic Church by boycotting itsrules on clerical celibacy. Indeed, one of hisdaughters was married to a son of the prior ofSkriðuklaustur monastery. Furthermore, twoof the priors there were buried in the monasticcemetery at Skriðuklaustur with their compa-nions and children as late as the early 16thcentury (Kristjánsdóttir 2012, pp. 158–166).Oddly enough, one of the most famous worldlychieftains in Iceland, Jón Loftsson, had eightchildren with five wives. One of his sons, Páll,later became a bishop in Skálholt. Similarly,the historian and politician Snorri Sturlusonfathered several children with his concubinesand two wives. Ruthlessly, he gave all hisdaughters to men who had the capacity tostrengthen his position in the ongoing powerstruggle of that time (Magnúsdóttir 2001,pp. 48, 68).

Nevertheless, the resistance to other-worldly ideas of physical temptations empha-sizes that extra-marital relationshipsmattered greatly as a source of friendship,inheritance and wealth (Magnúsdóttir 2001,Karras 2003). To become Christian was notmerely about a transformation of religiouslife, but also about how the Christianworld-view was articulated and given mean-ing in all spheres of life simultaneously: the

32 Steinunn Kristjánsdóttir

ecclesiastical and the worldly, the private andthe official. The examples above emphasizethat the mutual encounter between the oldand new ways of living was based not onlyon religion but also on secular premises. Inaddition, the fact that the laity began practis-ing monogamous marriage soon after theConversion, whereas the clergy and chief-tains did not, highlights the uneven progressof the Christian transformation, dependingon the privilege it conferred.

THE EARLY CHRISTIAN CHURCH ATÞÓRARINSSTAÐIR

The early Christian church site atÞórarinsstaðir in Seyðisfjörður, East Iceland,is an example of how religious buildings andtheir belongings reflect both ecclesiastical andworldly contacts in early medieval Europe.The site was excavated in 1998–1999 andrevealed, for what was then the first time inIceland, a timber-constructed church buildingof two phases, dated to the early and late11th century (Kristjánsdóttir 2004, pp.84–95). Interestingly, the church buildings atÞórarinsstaðir appeared to be of the sameform of construction as that characterizingmany of the earliest churches found inViking settlement areas in Northern Europe:an early type of stave church, here called apost church, notably one built of timber withearth-dug corner posts (McNicol 1997,Jensenius 2001, pp. 71–81).The Þórarinsstaðir church was relatively

small in both phases. The interior of the ear-lier church measured 4.8 × 2.7 m, includingthe choir. It had burned down and, whenrebuilt, it was enlarged to the north and eastto measure 6.4 × 4 m, also including thechoir. Both phases were rectangular inshape, with a square choir and six cornerposts each (Fig. 2). The earth-dug cornerposts were relatively large compared to thesize of the church building, measuring up toone meter in diameter. Identification showedthat the churches, including the corner posts,were built of various types of driftwood,

including Siberian larch, Scots pine, Swissstone pine and spruce, contrary to the con-temporary traditions of using turf and stonesas the main building material (Kristjánsdóttiret al. 2001). Since the discovery of theÞórarinsstaðir church, at least three otherpost churches identical to the Þórarinsstaðirchurch have been discovered in Iceland(Byock et al. 2005, Zoëga 2013, Zoëga andBolander 2014).The frequency of early, privately built tim-

ber churches in Iceland and a large part ofNorthern Europe has attracted steadilyincreasing attention from researchers inrecent years. An intensive survey inIceland’s Skagafjörður valley shows, forexample, that almost all farms had theirown churches or a graveyard around AD

1100 (Zoëga and Sigurðarson 2010, see alsoLane 2001, p. 151, Kristjánsdóttir 2004, p.133, Nordeide 2011a, p. 88, Friðriksson andVésteinsson 2011, pp. 55–56, Brink 2013, pp.30–31). What is particularly noteworthy ishow similar the early post churches found inNorthern Europe are in construction (see,e.g., Christie 1982, p. 77, Jensenius 2001,pp. 71–81), as though the same architecturalmodel – a catalogue of an ideal early churchbuilding – had been circulating during theChristianization period. Thus the postchurches could be an indication of such anideal for a religious place, invented by theCatholic Church through the Nordic arch-bishopric in Hamburg-Bremen, to whichNorthern Europe belonged until 1104. Notonly does this demonstrate the close tiesamong European peoples through the far-reaching network of Christianity, but itsimultaneously raises questions about theroles of architectural knowledge transformedby architects, builders and craftsmen asagents of Christian ideals.However, private churches built on farms

owned by lay landowners appear not to havehad any obvious social place or functionwhere they were built, so soon after theConversion, other than as a response to thenew church laws and regulations. They may

Becoming Christian 33

well have been founded because of growingreligious awareness or a practical need foraccess to a church (Nordeide 2013, pp. 4–7,Jensen 2013, p. 223). Yet it is plausible thatthey were established for economic and poli-tical reasons – in order to take advantage ofChristian teaching. Specifically, building aprivate church secured economic capital andwealth for the owner. In building a church,the owner was officially taking a stanceagainst basic church rules because theCatholic Church was intent on preventingsecular authorities from unduly influencingchurchly affairs (Stefánsson 2000, p. 35,Sigurðsson 2011, pp. 89–91). In fact, theRoman Church’s long-held aim of breakingaway from the control of the secular aristoc-racy in Europe resulted in a lengthy strugglebetween ecclesiastical and worldly powerover laws and legal jurisdiction. In NorthernEurope, this struggle first appeared through

the Church’s battle against the raids of theVikings. Later on, primarily during the initialperiods after the Vikings’ gradual conversionin the 10th and 11th centuries, the strugglecentred mainly on the ownership and man-agement of church goods and benefices. InIceland, these disputes are collectively knownas the staðamál (‘the issue of staðir’). Thefirst significant conflict began in 1179, andthe second, which started in 1275, ended suc-cessfully for the Church in 1297. After that,the Church began to adapt its own beneficialchurch system in Iceland (Stefánsson 2000,Sigurðsson 2011).

No matter what the owner’s purpose inmaintaining a privately owned church – forreligious or economic reasons – it had to bedemonstrated that the church fulfilled therequirements of the Christian agenda. Thematerial expressions of Christianity throughthe church buildings, with their symbolic

Fig. 2. The post church at Þórarinsstaðir, both phases with graves (© author).

34 Steinunn Kristjánsdóttir

iconographies as holy places, may bear testi-mony to Christian practice but can also beobserved as panopticons and, thus, meta-phors of control and power giving instruc-tions on how to behave. Oddly enough,panopticons must, however, be understoodin themselves as active agents; therefore,accepting that the church (as a building)acts upon us demonstrates at the same timethat the role of things goes beyond function-alism (Foucault 1977, Miller 2010). In fact,the church at Þórarinsstaðir possessed all thebasic structural elements that a religiousinstitution needed in order to function assuch. Not only was it built in accordancewith a well-known architectural style, butthe excavation also showed that it ownedthree free-standing stone crosses and animported altar stone made of green por-phyry. In addition to this, a quarter of aDanish coin was found just outside thechurch and two weights inside it. The churchbuilding was also surrounded by a cemeterywith 58 graves, one of them containing asilver ring with common Viking age decora-tion (Kristjánsdóttir 2004). These elementsall point towards a discursive resistanceinvolved in becoming Christian.

MATERALIZING CHRISTIANITY

The possessions of the Þórarinsstaðir churchare of particular importance for the analysisof the process of becoming Christian, asthey underline the far-reaching network ofChristianity and the knowledge it spreadthrough Europe. The stone crosses found atthe site are the oldest ones preserved in onepiece that have been discovered in Iceland todate (Fig. 3). The crosses measured 36 cm,45 cm and 53 cm high, respectively. Theywere all free-standing outside the northernand eastern gables of the church, facing theNorth Atlantic Ocean. Their small sizes mayindicate that they were grave markers,although this is not certain because none ofthem was found attached to any particulargrave. All were cut in tufa, a type of volcanic

stone found in many areas in Iceland, includ-ing the mountainous areas of Seyðisfjörður.Although the crosses are made of local mate-rial, as is the church itself, their shape makesit clear that they were made according to awell-known design. This may indicate theconsciousness of the church owner, as wellas the knowledge of the craftsman, of howmetaphorically to become Christian –

religiously or not (see, e.g., Nordeide 2013,p. 8). Indeed, the new codes and ethics pro-posed by the Church were likewise an impor-tant factor in the initial process of becomingChristian by shaping and influencing people’sminds.Contemporary crosses similar to those

from Þórarinsstaðir are well known inWestern Europe. The vast majority of themare found distributed along the west coast ofNorway, in eastern Norway and the British

Fig. 3. One of the three stone crosses found atÞórarinsstaðir (© National Museum of Iceland).

Becoming Christian 35

Isles and on the Continent. Only a feware preserved in Denmark, Sweden andFinland (Nordeide 2011b, pp. 128,133–139). Generally, stone crosses and crossslabs on the west coast of Norway are seen asthe result of influences originating in theBritish Isles (Birkeli 1973). Recently, how-ever, it has been pointed out that the earlystone crosses bear signs of other impulsesthat could, for example, be traced to mission-ary activity undertaken on behalf of the arch-bishopric in Hamburg-Bremen (Nordeide2011a, p. 79, 2011b, pp. 135, 139–140). Thethree specimens found during the excavationat the Þórarinsstaðir church site could allhave been made under local influences, butthey can also be classified as cruciform mod-els originating from such contexts on theContinent and in Norway.The altar stone discovered on the site, how-

ever, is the only known ecclesiastical relicassigned to the church at Þórarinsstaðir.Importantly, it signifies the religious functionof the building as a church, as it was foundlying close to the southern posthole in thechoir area, showing that it was used for divineservices. Such altar stones were usually laid inframes of wood on the altar or carved into thetop of the altar if the altar itself was not ofstone; alternatively, a priest could carry asmall altar stone with him while conductingservices outside the church. In either case,the altar stones had to be formally blessedby the bishop before use (Lárusson 1980,pp. 114–115, Tesch 2007, pp. 50–51).Interestingly, one of the 145 dispensationsgiven in the province of the archdiocese ofNidaros from 1438 to 1531 concerns a requestto use a portable altar in locations outside thearea for which permission had initially beengiven (Jørgensen and Saletnich 2004, p. 51).The altar stone from Þórarinsstaðir is

green in colour, with white dots. It measures2.5 cm deep, 5.5 cm long and 6.3 cm high(Fig. 4). Its sides are polished but its ends arenot, and both ends may possibly have beenbroken. Porphyry – the rock from which thealtar stone found at Þórarinsstaðir is made –

originates from mines in Greece, but the altarstones themselves were produced in Cologneand Trier in Germany, initially as early as the7th century (Tesch 2007, pp. 52–53). Severalsmall altar stones made almost exclusively ofgreen porphyry have been found in earlymedieval contexts, churches or towns, inGermany, Sweden, Wales, England, Scotlandand Ireland, such as in the Hiberno-Norsetown in Dublin. The small altar stones areregarded as having been brought to theBritish Isles through pilgrimage or Christianmission, for use as relic covers in larger altarsor as portable ones (Lynn 1984, Colman andElsner 1995, Tesch 2007). This could be trueof the altar stone from the church atÞórarinsstaðir if it was not an indication ofclerical dealing and interference in theChristianization process. Either way, the pre-sence of the altar stone primarily highlightsthe involvement of the new world view andthe becoming of Christianity.

The Danish silver coin found atÞórarinsstaðir was only a quarter of coin(i.e. cut coin) but is still identifiable as imita-tion of an Anglo-Saxon coin minted duringthe reign of Harthacnut (in 1035–1042) (Holt2000, pp. 85–91). In pre-Christian andChristian Europe, coins were used not onlyfor monetary transactions but also for rituals

Fig. 4. An altar stone of porphyry was found closeto the southern posthole in the choir area of thechurch building at Þórarinsstaðir (© NationalMuseum of Iceland).

36 Steinunn Kristjánsdóttir

and as personal jewellery. Coins of all kindsfrom all periods have thus been found inhoards, buildings, graves and water, and, inaddition to their monetary role, they havebeen used as jewellery throughout their his-tory. They were also used as amulets, badges,offerings, vows and donations, to mention afew examples of their ritual use during bothpre-Christian and early Christian times(Gilchrist 2008, Nordeide 2011a, pp. 82–84,Gullbekk 2012, Hall 2012). Monetary offer-ings to buildings are particularly well docu-mented in Western Christendom, with morethan 50,000 single coins (whole, bent or cut)discovered in Scandinavian churches alone.These have been interpreted mainly as offer-ings because they are most commonly foundbeneath church floors, although some havebeen found in the surrounding cemetery(Nordeide 2011a, p. 84, Gullbekk 2012, pp.1–8). At Þórarinsstaðir, the coin was foundoutside the church’s northern wall, inside thecemetery. It was found lying in the ash layerof the burnt timber wall belonging to theearlier church building but did not showany signs of being burnt itself. In fact, theDanish coin was one of the essential factorsfor the dating of the phases of the church tothe early and late 11th century, respectively(Kristjánsdóttir 2004, pp. 71–72). Coinsfound at church sites emphasize either resis-tance to change or a compromise between theold and the new, wherein old habits and tradi-tions continue to exist, although the worldaround presents constant change. Still, thecoin can likewise be interpreted as a signthat the church had been used as a venue fortrading as well as for religious purposes suchas donations or vows. This may also be true ofthe two weights found at the site, which couldhave been used to determine the value of thecoin. The Danish coin and the weights,together with all of the other findings fromthe church site at Þórarinsstaðir, illustrate thepresence of ongoing overseas contact during atime of migration and expansion, but they canalso be viewed as evidence that Icelanders

were part of the network of Christianity inEurope.The presence of the silver ring in grave no. 22

could be interpreted as a grave good, linkingthe site to traditional pre-Christian customsand thus signalling resistance to the new burialpractices proposed by Christianity. However,jewellery and precious personal belongings arecommon in graves fromboth pre-Christian andChristian belief systems, just as the practice ofburying the deadwithout grave goods is knownin all periods (Lane 2001, p. 150, Gilchrist2008, p. 121, Lund 2013, pp. 48–50). In gen-eral, then, grave goods cannot be regarded astokens of religiosity of any kind but rather asmiscellaneous, hybrid traditions of paying per-sonal tribute to the dead. The ring in the graveat Þórarinsstaðir is made of a rounded silverthread, connected on top with a knot thatalso serves as a decoration. This is a well-known method of decorating jewellery datingback to the Viking period, linking pre-Christian motives to Christian traditions.Unfortunately, nothing that could haveshed further light on the context of the find– human bones, teeth or traces of a coffin –

could be observed in grave no. 22, owing topoor conditions for preservation of organicmaterial at the site. The grave with the ringwas found close to the entrance of the church,whereas the human bones found in otherareas of the cemetery were slightly betterpreserved.Nevertheless, the osteological analysis

made on the sparse skeletal collection indi-cates that the women were buried on thenorthern side, the men on the southern sideand the children grouped around the choir(Kristjánsdóttir 2004, pp. 53–55). This spatialdivision of graves is also a well-known tradi-tion from other early Christian graveyards inthe Nordic countries; the distribution is ver-ified both in written laws and by archaeolo-gical material (see, e.g., Nilsson 1994, p. 46,77–87, Zoëga 2013, pp. 17–20). According toother archaeological investigations, the prac-tice of arranging graves in accordance with

Becoming Christian 37

the individual’s age and sex seems to havebeen replaced before the turn of the 12h cen-tury, perhaps earlier, by the practice of arran-ging them according to social relationships orblood ties uniting family members in death,as still is done in contemporary and laterparish churchyards (Jonsson 2009, pp.158–162). The separation of men, women,and children in the earliest cemeteries maythus be seen as a reaction to the extra-maritalstrategies still in existence at that time, withmore complex family ties within each house-hold than was common later on, during theCatholic period. While the Danish coin andthe silver ring may symbolize resistance tonew traditions of Christianity or their syncre-tic fusion with earlier ones, the spatial divi-sion of the dead by sex and age underlines thecompromises made in accordance with thepremises of the Roman Catholic Church.

THE EARLY MEDIEVAL HOME INICELAND

The significant alterations that early medie-val homes in Iceland underwent as a wholeduring the early phases of Christianizationprocess may prove a useful source of infor-mation in the examination of the process ofbecoming Christian and the everyday resis-tance involved. The home possesses impor-tant information on social changes, as it canbe seen as a microcosm of the surroundingsocietal structure while embodying a sym-bolic meaning memorized by the resident.The society is not limiting, however, butactually enabling because of the reciprocalinterplay among the dwelling house, the resi-dents and its structure (Bourdieu 1977,Giddens 1984). Inevitably, architecture isalways a product of culture, interactivelycreating models for the social structure, asthe Þórarinsstaðir church site exemplifieswith its utensils, symbolizing Christian ima-ginary and motifs in a society that is becom-ing Christian. Architecture does not developspontaneously, however, but evolves with thehelp of architects and craftsmen who

reciprocally become bearers of the culturebehind their construction, as does the creatorof the church building with its religious ico-nographies and symbols. At all events, thecause of the severe but gradual alteration ofthe architecture and layout in the dwellinghouses in Iceland centres not only on howIcelanders adapted their everyday lives toaccord with a new world view and becameChristian, but also on how people makethings and things make people (Miller 2010,pp. 47–49).

In fact, the architecture and layout ofdwelling houses has been at the centre ofresearch since the dawn of modern archaeol-ogy in Iceland. Over 30 ruins of dwellinghouses have been excavated so far, datingfrom the settlement period and onwards(Vésteinsson 2004), providing vast opportu-nities for further study. In spite of some flawsregarding uneven geographical and temporaldivision of the sites chosen for investigation,it is generally accepted that the earliest typeof dwelling house in the newly settled societyof Iceland began to change significantly, interms of both building techniques and innerarrangements, in the early 11th century (seeVésteinsson 2004, 2010, for further discussionof the limitations of the material) (Fig. 5).

At first, annexes were added to the oldtraditional single-room longhouse that the set-tlers brought with them to Iceland, in order totake over open-air activities such as food pro-duction. From the 11th to the 13th century,the main single-room hall also decreased insize and became one of several separatedrooms of the dwelling house, along with theannexes that were later used as kitchens, pan-tries and even bathrooms. As time went on,special rooms, so-called stofa, serving as extraliving quarters, became common and theentire complex was united by a central pas-sage. This latest development can be seen inparticular in farmhouses dating to the 13th to14th century (Ágústsson 1982, pp. 255–268,Vésteinsson 2010, pp. 30–32).

From time to time, hypotheses have beensuggested in an attempt to explain what

38 Steinunn Kristjánsdóttir

triggered the alterations of dwelling houses inIceland, just as elsewhere in Northern Europewhere similar changes appeared. Most of

these are based on the approaches of evolu-tionism and functionalism, although evolu-tionary interpretations have been the most

Fig. 5. Examples of excavated dwelling houses in Iceland showing the alterations the Icelandic homesunderwent during the period AD 800–1550 (© Vala Gunnarsdóttir).

Becoming Christian 39

dominant and long-lived. In Iceland, themultifunctional structures of the dwellinghouses have been understood as an indicationof their evolution from being simple to beingcomplex (Magnússon 1973, pp. 5–80,Ágústsson 1982, pp. 255–268). As regardsthe functionalistic approach, on the otherhand, focus has been directed mainly atadaptation to the environment. Cooling cli-mate during medieval times and the supposedlack of timber in Iceland, both for buildingand for fuel, is seen as the main reason forthe architectural alterations. It is thoughtthat dividing the longhouses into severalsmaller rooms in annexes and extensionsmade it easier to warm them up and requiredless timber for construction than did thelarger single-room halls (Ágústsson 1982,pp. 255–268).Nevertheless, along with growing criticism

of evolutionism and functionalism in recentyears, it has been emphasized that access totimber cannot have trigged significantchanges in Icelandic dwelling houses becauseturf was one of the main materials used forconstruction from the time the earliest inha-bitants brought the longhouse tradition toIceland and until the 19th century. Only thepost churches were built exclusively of tim-ber. The tradition of using peat instead oftimber for fuel is old as well. Furthermore,the inside measurements of the house showsthat the average size of the dwelling housesdid not increase even though the layout chan-ged (Vésteinsson 2002, p. 156). Generally,there is nothing that points towards anypre-Christian utensils for the performance ofrituals being kept in the dwelling houses andremoved from them due to the Conversion.Neither is it obvious whether the housesbecame more practical or more advancedafter having changed from a single-roombuilding to a multi-cell structure.In fact, functionalism, rationalism or

human adaptation tends very often tobecome our default gear for explaining socialchanges. Although such processes may some-times be some sort of co-factor behind

different alterations, they rarely give ade-quate attention to the active role of cultureand society (Miller 2010, pp. 42–78).Traditionally, the mechanisms of Christ-ianity have been sought not in homes butrather in churches, iconographies and bur-ials, most likely due to the tendency inresearch to analyse religious activities interms of dichotomous categories, such as ofritual vs. secular (see, e.g., Brück 1999).Certainly, becoming Christian did not neces-sarily involve greater religiousness but ratherhow people synchronized their everyday life –its religious and secular aspects – in accor-dance with Christian doctrine and laws, inchurch as much as at home. The householdas a residential centre of both production andconsumption does, accordingly, embrace adual domestic and ritual function (Gilchrist2012, pp. 114–115).

The recent criticism has neverthelessentailed different approaches to the subjectbased on social and economic factors or evenfeminism. In his studies on farm mounds,Vésteinsson (2010) relates architecturalalterations to changes in household structureand ideology, reflecting the increased author-ity of the household manager – in this case,the housewife – who could by then effectivelycontrol and demarcate the different tasks ofthe home. All household activities thus tookplace in one spot, resulting in the emergenceof the farm mounds that are primarily foundin northern Norway, Greenland, the Faeroesand Orkney, in addition to Iceland, from thelate Viking Age onwards. This is a validhypothesis on the sudden emergence of farmmounds, but it does not explain what trig-gered the changes in the household structureand ideology that in turn changed the layoutand organization of Nordic homes.

As is noted above, this article argues thatmuch of the motivation for the alterationstaking place in early Christian homes can befound in the church laws that introducedmonogamous marriage as the ideal form ofcompanionship throughout Europe, exempli-fying at the same time the reciprocal

40 Steinunn Kristjánsdóttir

interplay among house, residents and society.Investigations show that domestic houses inEnglish towns changed drastically with ashift towards the nuclear family structureduring the 14th century (Rees Jones 2003, p.202, Gilchrist 2012, pp. 114–115, 118–124).This underlines the aforementioned recipro-cal interplay. The undivided longhouse of theViking Age may thus mirror the then-currenthousehold forms based on partnerships ofvarious kinds. However, to no less a degreethan Christian marriage between a man anda woman, all the extra-marital unions andrelationships then practised were based onstrict rules regarding, for instance, loyaltytowards the concubine’s guardian, compa-nions, other household members and chil-dren, all of whom had equal rights andstatus in the household (Magnúsdóttir 2001,Karras 2012). The rules of the time indicatethat all family members may have livedtogether as a unit under one roof, independentof being defined as husbands, housewives,concubines, grandparents, servants, childrenor friends. After the Conversion, however,the gradually more segmented homes in earlymedieval Iceland indicate the differentiated,segmented and predefined tasks of familymembers only, such as of man and wife, per-haps grandparents, children and servants liv-ing in dwelling houses that were divided intoseveral separated rooms.

The struggle among the Roman Church,the clergy and the secular power over thevarious manifestations of Christian teachingin everyday life lasted throughout theCatholic period, while the laity compromisedmuch sooner in matters such as marriage andeven burial practices. Therefore, the gradualalterations of homes underline the generalacceptance among the laity of the Christiandoctrine that physical temptation is a burdenof humans and their abandonment of theextra-marital unions that may have providedmore flexibility than monogamous marriage,with its strict margins. This is yet anotherreminder, that, according to Foucault’s the-ories, power relations always consist, on the

one hand, of coercion and, on the otherhand, of reaction on behalf of those whoexercise power, irrespective of whether ornot that power is held by formal authorities.

KNOWLEDGE AND THERELATIONSHIP OF POWER

Clearly, the Christianization process wasneither unilateral nor a rational top-down actenabling the worldly authorities to retain theirleading position. On the contrary, it wasminted by uneven, multilateral resistances andcompromises in everyday life among theclergy, the worldly authorities and the laitydue to the tension and combination betweenold and new knowledge, enabling all involvedto exercise power and react. Thus, as is empha-sized above, becoming Christian was not neces-sarily a function of greater religiousness or adeeper religious devotion but rather of howpeople manifested new knowledge in the struc-ture of their society through their capacity tonegotiate and compromise through everydayresistance. Explicitly, power relations are notthe power itself but the capacity to act onothers through resistance that can be exertedthrough a general reaction, obedience, opposi-tion, ignorance, fight, enforcement, rejection,compromise or any action, but without neces-sarily any shared solution in the matter in con-cern (Foucault 1994, pp. 336–340).Obviously, the Christian doctrine of physi-

cal temptations as a burden of humans was anew concept in Nordic societies, runningcounter to existing family structures and mar-ital habits, which were extremely important forfriendship, inheritance and economic wealth inthe former societies of the Norse Vikings,including Icelandic society. Resistance to thenew way of living emerged most noticeably inofficial disagreements between lay landownersand the Roman Church over ecclesiasticalreforms but also in the various marital disputesthat were in fact closely related matters.According to Foucault (1994, p. 331), themain objective of such struggles is not to attackinstitutions of power or a certain class or

Becoming Christian 41

group; instead, they should be seen as conduct-ing the effects of oppression or change. Thecompromises and negotiations graduallymade by the public, the church, the chieftains,craftsmen, builders and architects, due to theencountering of old and new traditions duringthe Christianization process, were materializedthrough new ecclesiastical buildings, such asthe churches, iconographies, burials and,oddly enough, altered homes.Taken together, the examples presented

here show how Icelanders became Christianby dealing with new knowledge in theireveryday practices that were coloured bymemories of old habits. Therefore, becomingChristian involved the cultural constructionof new identities: following innovative guide-lines of Christianity in daily habits, whichincluded interactively ecclesiastical andworldly affairs, while simultaneously strivingto preserve the old way of living. In fact,Christianity was organized not by theRoman Church alone but mutually by allparticipants in the Christian discourse – andit still is.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

The author would like to thank Anna Benassifor revising the English of the text, philoso-pher Björn Þorsteinsson for valuable adviceregarding the use of Foucault’s theories and,finally, Vala Gunnarsdóttir for assisting withfigures and drawings. This research was madepossible through funding from the Universityof Iceland Research Fund and The IcelandicCentre for Research (Rannís).

REFERENCES

Abrams, L., 2012. Diaspora and identity in theViking Age. Early Medieval Europe, 20, 17–38.

Aðalsteinsson, J.H., 1999. Kristnitakan á Íslandi.Reykjavík: Háskólaútgáfan.

Ágústsson, H., 1982. Den islandske bondegårdsudvikling fra landnamstidan indtil det 20.århundredene. In: Vestnordisk byggeskikk

gjennomto tusen år. AmS-skrifter 7. Stavanger:Arkeologisk museum i Stavanger, 255–268.

Andrén, A., 2005. Behind heathendom: archaeo-logical studies of Old Norse religion. ScottishArchaeological Journal, 27 (2), 105–138.

Andrén, A., 2014. Tracing Old Norse cosmology:the world tree, middle earth and the sun inarchaeological perspectives. Lund: NordicAcademic Press.

Bhabha, H., 1994. The location of culture.London: Routledge.

Behrend, N., ed., 2007. Christianization and therise of Christian monarchy: Scandinavia, centralEurope and Rus‘ c. 900–1200. Cambridge:Cambridge University Press.

Birkeli, F., 1973. Norske steinkros i tidlig midde-lalder: et bidrag til belysningen av overgangen franorrøn religion til kristendom. Oslo:Universitetsforlaget.

Bourdieu, P., 1977. Outline of a theory of practice.Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Brink, S., 2013. Early ecclesiastical organizationof Scandinavia, especially Sweden. In: K.Salonen, K.V. Jensen and T. Jørgensen, eds.Medieval Christianity in the North. Turnhout:Brepols, 23–38.

Brück, J., 1999. Ritual and rationality: some pro-blems of interpretation in European archaeol-ogy. European Journal of Archaeology, 2 (3),313–344.

Byock, J. et al., 2005. A Viking-age valley inIceland: the Mosfell archaeological project.Medieval Archaeology, 49, 195–218.

Christie, H., 1982. Stavkirkene somtradisjonsbærere og fornyere i middelalderensnorske byggemiljø. In: Vestnordisk byggeskikkgjennomto tusen år. AmS-skrifter 7. Stavanger:Arkeologisk museum i Stavanger, 68–79.

Colman, S. and Elsner, J., 1995. Pilgrimage: pastand present in the world religions. Cambridge,MA: Harvard University Press.

Deetz, J. 1977. In small things forgotten: thearchaeology of early American life. New York:Doubleday.

DI (Diplomatarium Islandicum) I., 1857.Reykjavík: Hið íslenzka bókmenntafélag.

Edwald, Á., 2012. Fishing for modernity: howmaterial relationships can mediate tensions inan immigrant community: the case of theIcelandic emigration to Canada in the late nine-teenth century. International Journal ofHistorical Archaeology, 16, 529–546.

42 Steinunn Kristjánsdóttir

Foucault, M., 1977. Discipline and punish: thebirth of the prison. Trans. Alan Sheridan.London: Allen Lane.

Foucault, M., 1982. The subject and power.Critical Inquiry, 4, 777–795.

Foucault, M., 1988. Technologies of the self. In: L.Martin, H. Gutman and P. Hutton, eds.Technologies of the self. London: Tavistock, 6–19.

Foucault, M., 1994. The subject and power. In: J.D. Faubion, ed. Power: the essential works ofMichel Foucault 1954–1984, Vol. 3. London:Penguin, 326–348.

Friðriksson, A. and Vésteinsson, O., 2011.Landscapes of burial: contrasting the paganand Christian paradigms of burial in VikingAge and medieval Iceland. ArchaeologiaIslandica, 9, 50–64.

Giddens, A., 1984. The constitution of society.Cambridge: Polity Press.

Gilchrist, R., 2008. Magic for the dead? Thearchaeology of magic in later medieval burials.Medieval Archaeology, 52, 119–159.

Gilchrist, R., 2012. Medieval life: archaeology andthe life course. Woodbridge: Boydell Press.

Gosden, C., 2001. Postcolonial archaeology. In: I.Hodder, ed. Archaeological theory today.Cambridge: Polity Press, 241–261.

Gosden, C., 2004. Archaeology and colonialism:cultural contact from 5000 BC to the present.Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Gullbekk, S.H., 2012. Salvation and small change:medieval coins in Scandinavian churches. In: G.Dethlefs, A. Pol and S. Wittenbrink, eds.Nummi docent! Münzen – Schätze – Funde:Festschrift für Peter Ilisch zum 65. Geburtstagam 28. April 2012. Osnabrück: NumismatischerVerlag der Münzhandlung Fritz RudolfKünker, 227–233.

Hall, M., 2012. Money isn’t everything: the cul-tural life of coins in the medieval burgh ofPerth, Scotland. Journal of Social Archaeology,12 (1), 72–91.

Holt, A., 2000. Mynt frá víkingöld og miðöldumfundin á Íslandi á síðari árum. Árbók Hinsíslenska fornleifafélags, 1998, 85–93.

Hugason, H., 2000. Frumkristni og upphaf kirkju.Kristni á Íslandi I. Reykjavík: Alþingi.

Ísleifsdóttir, V.A., 1997. Siðbreytingin á Íslandi1537–1565: Byltingin að ofan. Reykjavík: Hiðíslenska bókmenntafélag.

Íslendingabók, 1968. In: J. Benediktsson, ed.Íslensk fornrit I. Reykjavík: Fornritafélagið.

Jensen, K.V., 2013. Crusading and Christian pene-tration into the landscape: the New Jerusalem inthe desert after c. 1100. In: S.W. Nordeide andS. Brink. eds. Sacred sites and holy places.Turnhout: Brepols, 215–236.

Jensenius, J.H., 2001. Trekirkene før stavkirkene:En undersøkelse av planlegging og design av kir-ker før ca. år 1100. CON-TEXT 6. Thesis(PhD). Arkitekthøgskolen i Oslo.

Jonsson, K., 2009. Practices for the living and thedead: medieval and post-Reformation burials inScandinavia. Stockholm Studies in Archaeology50. Stockholm: Stockholm University.

Jørgensen, T. and Saletnich, G., 2004. Synder ogpavemakt: Botsbrev fra den nordiskeKirkeprovins og Suderøyene til Pavestolen1438–1531. Stavanger: Misjonshøjskolensforlag.

Karlsson, G., 2001. History of a marginal society:Iceland’s 1100 years. London: Hurst.

Karras, R.M., 2003. Marriage and the creation ofkin in the Sagas. Scandinavian Studies, 75 (4),473–490.

Karras, R.M., 2012. Unmarriages: women, menand sexual unions in the Middle Ages.Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press.

Kristjánsdóttir, S., 2004. The awakening ofChristianity in Iceland. GOTARC Serie B, no.31. Thesis (PhD). Gothenburg University.

Kristjánsdóttir, S., 2012. Sagan af klaustrinu áSkriðu. Reykjavík: Sögufélag.

Kristjánsdóttir, S., Macchioni, N. and Lazzeri, S.,2001. An Icelandic medieval church made ofdrift timber: the implications of the woodidentification. Journal of Cultural Heritage, 2,97–107.

Lane, P., 2001. The archaeology of Christianity inglobal perspective. In: T. Insoll, ed. Archaeologyand world religion. London: Routledge,148–181.

Lárusson, M.L., 1980. Altar, altarstenar. In:Kulturhistorisk leksikon for nordisk middelalderfra vikingetid till refomationstid, Vol. 1. Viborg:Rosenkilde & Bagger, 114–115.

Loren, D.D. and Beaudry, M.C., 2006. BecomingAmerican: small things remembered. In: M.Hall and S.W. Silliman, eds. Historical archae-ology. Oxford: Blackwell, 251–271.

Lund, J., 2013. Fragments of a conversion: hand-ling bodies and objects in pagan and ChristianScandinavia AD 800–1100. World Archaeology,45 (1), 46–63.

Becoming Christian 43

Lynn, C.J., 1984. Some fragments of exotic por-phyry found in Ireland. The Journal of IrishArchaeology, 2, 19–32.

Magnúsdóttir, A., 2001. Frillor och fruar: politikoch samlevnad på Island 1120–1400. Thesis(PhD). Gothenburg University.

Magnússon, Þ., 1973. Sögualdarbyggð íHvítárholti. Árbók Hins íslenska fornleifafélags,1972, 5–80.

McNicol, J., 1997. Plasseringen av de første kir-kene i Norge i forhold til de hedenske kultste-dene. KULT’s skriftserie nr. 98. Oslo: Norgesforskningsråd.

Milek, K., 2012. The roles of pit houses and gen-dered spaces on Viking-Age farmsteads inIceland. Medieval Archaeology, 56, 85–130.

Miller, D., 2010. Stuff. Cambridge: Polity.Nilsson, B., 1994. Kvinnor, män och barnpå medeltida begravningsplatser. ProjektetSveriges kristnande Publicationer 3. Uppsala:Lunne böcker.

Nordeide, S.W., 2011a. The Viking age as a periodof religious transformation. Turnhout: Brepols.

Nordeide, S.W., 2011b. Steinkors og korssteiner inordvestre Europa. Collegium Medievale, 24,127–148.

Nordeide, S.W., 2013. Introduction: the sacraliza-tion of landscape. In: S.W. Nordeide and S.Brink, eds. Sacred sites and holy places.Turnhout: Brepols, 1–12.

Pluskowski, A., 2010. The zooarchaeology ofmedieval ‘Christendom’: ideology, the treatmentof animals and the making of medieval Europe.World Archaeology, 42 (2), 201–214.

Prescott, C. and Glørstad, H., ed., 2011. BecomingEuropean: the transformation of third millenniumNorthern and Western Europe. Oxford: OxbowBooks.

Price, N., 2002. The Viking way: religion and warin late Iron Age Scandinavia. Aun 31. Uppsala:Uppsala University.

Rees Jones, S., 2003. Women’s influence on thedesign of urban homes. In: M. Erler and M.Kowaleski, eds. Gendering the master narrative:woman and power in the Middle Ages. Ithaca,NY: Cornell University Press, 190–211.

Rúnarsdóttir, A.L., 2006. Material culture andsocial space in the Icelandic turf house. In: E.J.Huijbens and Ó.P. Jónsson, eds. Spaces, art andthe environment. Proceedings of the SPARTENconference, Reykjavík, 1–2 June 2006. Newcastle:Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 6–24.

Russell, L., 2005. ‘Either, or, neither, nor’: resist-ing the production of gender, race and classdichotomies in the pre-colonial period. In: E.C.Casella and C. Fowler, eds. The archaeology ofplural and changing identities: beyond identifica-tion. New York: Springer, 33–51.

Said, E., 1978. Orientalism. New York: Penguin.Salonen, K., 2013. Forbidden martial strategies:papal marriage dispensations for Scandinaviancouples in the later Middle Ages. In: K.Salonen, K.V. Jensen and T. Jørgensen, eds.Medieval Christianity in the North. Turnhout:Brepols, 181–208.

Sigurðsson, J.V., 2008. Det norrøne samfunnet:Vikingen, kongen, erkebiskopen og bonden.Oslo: Pax forlag.

Sigurðsson, E.R., 2011. The church in fourteenth-century Iceland. Thesis (PhD). University ofLeeds.

Simpson, I.A., Barrett, J.H. and Milek, K.B.,2005. Interpreting the Viking Age to medievalperiod transition in Norse Orkney throughcultural soil and sediment analyses.Geoarchaeology, 20 (4), 355–377.

Sindbæk, S., 2007. The small world of the Vikingsnetworks in early medieval communication andexchange. Norwegian Archaeological Review, 40(1), 59–74.

Slupeki, L. and Valor, M., 2007. Religions. In: J.Graham-Campbell and M. Valor, eds. Thearchaeology of medieval Europe, Vol. 1.Aarhus: Aarhus University Press, 366–381.

Spivak, G., 1988. Can the subaltern speak? In: C.Nelson and L. Grossberg, eds. Marxism and theinterpretation of culture. London: Macmillan,24–28.

Stefánsson, M., 2000. Staðir og staðamál: studier iislandske egenkirkelige og beneficialrettslige for-hold i middelalderen I. Bergen: Historisk insti-tutt, Universitetet i Bergen.

Svanberg, F., 2003. Decolonizing the Viking Age.Acta Archaeologica Lundensia Series in 8, 43.Lund: University of Lund.

Søland, B., 2000. Becoming modern: young womenand the reconstruction of womanhood in the1920s. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.

Tesch, S., 2007. Tidigmedeltida sepulkralstenar iSigtuna. Situne Dei, 2007, 45–68.

Thomas, J., 2004. Archaeology and modernity.London: Routledge.

Vésteinsson, O., 2002. Hnignun, aðlögun eðaframför? In: E.H. Halldórsdóttir, ed. 2.

44 Steinunn Kristjánsdóttir

íslenska söguþingið 30. maí–1. júní 2002.Reykjavík: Sagnfræðistofnun Háskóla Íslands,Sagnfræðingafélag Íslands and Sögufélag,144–160.

Vésteinsson, O., 2004. Icelandic farmhouse exca-vations: field methods and site choices.Archaeologia Islandica, 3, 71–100.

Vésteinsson, O., 2010. On farm-mounds.Archaeologia Islandica, 8, 13–39.

Young, R.J.C., 2009. What is the postcolonial?Ariel, 40 (1), 13–25.

Zoëga, G., 2013. Keldudalur í Hegranesi:Fornleifarannsókn 2002–2003. Rannsóknar-skýrslur 135/2013. Glaumbær: ByggðasafnSkagfirðinga.

Zoëga, G. and Bolander, D., 2014. Uppgröftur 11:aldar kirkjugarðs á Stóru-Seylu 2012–2013.Rannsóknarskýrslur 145/2014. Glaumbær:Byggðasafn Skagfirðinga.

Zoega, G. and Sigurðarson, G.S., 2010. Skagfirskakirkjurannsóknin. Árbók Hins íslenskafornleifafélags, 2010, 95–123.

Becoming Christian 45