Medieval Icelanders drew on a wide range of literary traditions, but very few manuscripts from the early period survive. Among the most intriguing are two fragments known as the Icelandic Physiologus. These are the oldest illustrated manuscripts from Iceland, dating back to around the year 1200. They offer a unique perspective on how Icelanders engaged with European animal lore, recreating stories for their own world at the edge of the North Atlantic.
Adapting ancient knowledge for Icelandic realities
The texts are Icelandic translations of a Latin manuscript, itself based on the 2nd-century Greek Physiologus. This influential work mixed information about real and mythical animals with Christian allegories. In Iceland, the Physiologus survives only in two fragments, known as Fragment A and Fragment B, preserved today in the Árni Magnússon Institute.
Fragment A, stored as AM 673 a I 4to, contains five animal entries: the Phoenix, Hoopoe, Siren, Horsefly and the Onocentaur (a mythical creature part human, part donkey). Four are illustrated. Fragment B (AM 673 a II 4to) is more extensive, with eighteen entries including the Hydra, Whale, Partridge, Elephant, and the recurring Onocentaur. Nineteen animals are listed across both fragments. As with many European bestiaries, each creature’s description is followed by a moral or religious interpretation, with some fantastical behaviour ascribed, such as the weasel being described as conceiving in its mouth and giving birth through its ear, a detail swapped or confused in legend and translation.
Birds, whales and the art of local adaptation
One striking feature of the Icelandic version is its emphasis on birds and familiar animals. Out of necessity, Icelandic scribes left out many entries that feature exotic or unfamiliar creatures, sometimes simply because these animals did not exist in Iceland’s northern climate. A practical example of this is the lion: where European bestiaries begin with this kingly animal as a symbol of Christ, Icelanders replace it with the Phoenix, itself a mythical bird but perhaps less alien in a land where birdlife was far more present than large mammals.
The whale stands out as the only animal depicted with two different moral stories, suggesting its special place in the minds of medieval Icelanders. Whales were not just fabled monsters but important resources, with their use regulated by law as early as the 10th century. Yet the entries focus on the animal’s allegorical meanings rather than practical details. Alongside whales, birds dominate both fragments, whereas references to monkeys, elephants and other exotic creatures are more rare, and sometimes possibly based more on imagination than observation.
The two fragments themselves show significant differences, indicating either use of different sources or creative reworking in the translation process. In some cases, translators struggled with ambiguous animals: the Hydra, for example, may appear as either a bird or a snake, reflecting uncertainty over its true nature.
Preservation of these treasures was a matter of luck. One fragment was found being used to sift flour in a remote fjord. Today, these old folios provide a unique window into how Iceland’s medieval scholars tailored imported stories to suit the animals, realities and myths of their home.
