Rune Names
Each rune most probably had a name, chosen to represent the sound of the rune itself.
The Old English names of all 24 runes of the Elder Futhark, along with five names of runes unique to the Anglo-Saxon runes are preserved in the Old English rune poem, compiled in the 8th or 9th century. These names are in good agreement with medieval Scandinavian records of the names of the 16 Younger Futhark runes, and to some extent also with those of the letters of the Gothic alphabet (recorded by Alcuin in the 9th century). Therefore it is assumed that the names go back to the Elder Futhark period, at least to the 5th century. There is no positive evidence that the full row of 24 runes had been completed before the end of the 4th century, but it is likely that at least some runes had their name before that time. This concerns primarily the runes used magically, especially the Tiwaz and Ansuz runes which are taken to symbolize or invoke deities in sequences such as that on the Lindholm amulet (3rd or 4th century).
Reconstructed names in Common Germanic can easily be given for most runes. Exceptions are the þ rune (which is given different names in Anglo-Saxon, Gothic and Scandinavian traditions) and the z rune (whose original name is unknown, and preserved only in corrupted form in Old English tradition). The 24 Elder Futhark runes are:
| Rune | UCS | Transliteration | IPA | Proto-Germanic name | Meaning |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| ᚠ | f | /f/ | *fehu | "wealth, cattle" | |
| ᚢ | u | /u(ː)/ | ?*ūruz | "aurochs" (or *ûram "water/slag"?) | |
| ᚦ | þ | /θ/, /ð/ | ?*þurisaz | "the god Thor, giant" | |
| ᚨ | a | /a(ː)/ | *ansuz | "one of the Æsir (gods)" | |
| ᚱ | r | /r/ | *raidō | "ride, journey" | |
| ᚲ | k | /k/ | ?*kaunan | "ulcer"? (or *kenaz "torch"?) | |
| ᚷ | g | /ɡ/ | *gebō | "gift" | |
| ᚹ | w | /w/ | *wunjō | "joy" | |
| ᚺ ᚻ | h | /h/ | *hagalaz | "hail" (the precipitation) | |
| ᚾ | n | /n/ | *naudiz | "need" | |
| ᛁ | i | /i(ː)/ | *īsaz | "ice" | |
| ᛃ | j | /j/ | *jēra- | "year, good year, harvest" | |
| ᛇ | ï (or æ) | /æː/(?) | *ī(h)waz/*ei(h)waz | "yew-tree" | |
| ᛈ | p | /p/ | ?*perþ- | meaning unclear, perhaps "pear-tree". | |
| ᛉ | z | /z/ | ?*algiz | unclear, possibly "elk". | |
| ᛊ | s | /s/ | *sōwilō | "Sun" | |
| ᛏ | t | /t/ | *tīwaz/*teiwaz | "the god Tiwaz" | |
| ᛒ | b | /b/ | *berkanan | "birch" | |
| ᛖ | e | /e(ː)/ | *ehwaz | "horse" | |
| ᛗ | m | /m/ | *mannaz | "Man" | |
| ᛚ | l | /l/ | *laguz | "water, lake" (or possibly *laukaz "leek") | |
| ᛜ ᛝ | ŋ | /ŋ/ | *ingwaz | "the god Ingwaz" | |
| ᛟ | o | /o(ː)/ | *ōþila-/*ōþala- | "heritage, estate, possession" | |
| ᛞ | d | /d/ | *dagaz | "day" |
The rune names stood for their rune because of the first phoneme in the name (the principle of acrophony), with the exception of Ingwaz and Algiz: the Proto-Germanic z sound of the Algiz rune, never occurred in a word-initial position. The phoneme acquired an r-like quality in Proto-Norse, usually transliterated with, and finally merged with r in Icelandic, rendering the rune superfluous as a letter. Similarly, the ng-sound of the Ingwaz rune does not occur word-initially. The names come from the vocabulary of daily life and mythology, some trivial, some beneficent and some inauspicious:
- Mythology: Tiwaz, Thurisaz, Ingwaz, God, Man, Sun.
- Nature and environment: Sun, day, year, hail, ice, lake, water, birch, yew, pear, elk, aurochs, ear (of grain).
- Daily life and human condition: Man, wealth/cattle, horse, estate/inheritance, slag, ride/journey, year/harvest, gift, joy, need, ulcer/illness.
Read more about this topic: Elder Futhark
Famous quotes containing the words rune and/or names:
“This is no rune nor symbol,
what I mean is it is so simple
yet no trick of the pen or brush
could capture that impression;
what I wanted to indicate was
a new phase, a new distinction of colour.”
—Hilda Doolittle (1886–1961)
“And even my sense of identity was wrapped in a namelessness often hard to penetrate, as we have just seen I think. And so on for all the other things which made merry with my senses. Yes, even then, when already all was fading, waves and particles, there could be no things but nameless things, no names but thingless names. I say that now, but after all what do I know now about then, now when the icy words hail down upon me, the icy meanings, and the world dies too, foully named.”
—Samuel Beckett (1906–1989)