Vladimir (Norse - Valdimar), protagonist of this book, was a direct descendent of Rurik. His grandmother Olga (Norse - Helga) had ruled Rus for many years, but had been converted in her old age by the Church in Constantinople. In a polytheist society, Christian converts were tolerated as merely devotees of yet another god. Vladimir, raised by his aged grandmother, had been exposed to her religion, which no doubt influenced his own, much later, conversion.
Prince Vladimir 1 has been canonized by the Orthodox Church as the Saint who imposed Christianity upon the people of Rus. I began reading the book aware of that historical fact, but I was not expecting its content of blatent religious propaganda. The author makes no apology for his personal Christian bias or for his use of the Church publication "The Chronicle of Bygone Years" as his exclusive reference source. It is disconcerting enough to read that polytheistic pagans are "godless", their rituals "evil" and even "satanic". But the text does not stop there, and similarly vilifies Jews and Moslems. It even gets in a swipe or two at the Roman Catholic Church, longtime adversary of the Eastern Orthodox.
The conversion of Russia did not occur peacefully, as Vladimir systematically destroyed the images of the Slavo-Nordic pantheon, burned the villages of its worshippers, and forced baptism on the reluctant survivors. In his glowing description of this violent evangelism, the author apparently misses the irony: the Slavs are saved from their idolotry of wooden heathen images, that they can exchange them for wooden Christian ikons. In the footnotes is explained the "charitable" reasoning behind the "excesses" of the Eastern and Western Churches: "heretics would be burned in this world so that they would not burn in the next"!
From the perspective of a pagan reader, it's a shame this most interesting history is contaminated by such intolerant religious chauvinism. One anecdote is heartening, however. After tumbling the colossal image of Perun in Kiev, Vladimir ordered it thrown into the Dniepr. To "cleanse" Russia of the pagan presence, the image was to be carried over the cataracts and smashed to pieces on the rocks below. However, the deity survived the journey intact and came to ground on a beach thereafter known as Perun's Hill.
Thus, the Chronicle prophesied, paganism would never be erradicated completely from the people of Rus, but in fact would flourish after a thousand years. Indeed, the Russian language still retains many of its preChristian roots. "Odin" is the word for the number One; priroda, the word for Nature, invokes the most ancient of Slavonic deities, the rodiy, daughters of the Moist Earth Mother Herself. Slavonic heathenism is experiencing a reawakening in post-Soviet Russia. The Orthodox Church, also reempowered after 70 years of Communist repression, is again trying to erradicate paganism and other "false" faiths, through alliance with the new government to establish itself as State Religion of Russia.
"Vladimir the Russian Viking" is therefore a timely read. Although I had hoped for a Russian history sympathetic toward the culture of the Vikings, the Christian-Supremist overtone of the text was unwittingly eye-opening.