eskilstuna: its name

Forskyrkan, the oldest church in Eskilstuna (i'm still trying to figure out how to move and caption a photo)

Some of our friends have asked about the name of the Swedish city, Eskilstuna, where we lived last year. at first it did seem comical, as if it refers to the fish, but “tuna” here means “town.” If you mention how happy you are living in Eskilstuna to a Swede from another place, they usually have a sort of puzzled look. Yes, they’ve heard of it, but their reaction is similar to what an American’s might be, if you said in excited tones “We’re having a great time, living in Akron for six months.”

But of course there is a story (with a few variants; please don't footnote me) that explains the name. In the late 11th century an Anglo-Saxon monk named Eskil was one of several sent from England to central Sweden to convert the heathens to Christianity. The Vikings had been especially reluctant to get on the bandwagon of the monotheistic desert sky religion that the faithful had been trying to spread in the wild, watery, snowy northlands.

The locals weren’t specially interested in Eskil’s message and one day were celebrating a lively traditional festival, perhaps that of Freya, the Viking goddess of sex and fertility. when Eskil tried to break up this blasphemous heathen event, the folks promptly stoned him to death for his trouble. The year is recorded as 1080. His companions buried him in a quiet spot near the river. Soon the Vatican saw fit to elevate their brave martyr Eskil to sainthood and sometime in the next centuries when Christianity finally prevailed, the town came to be called Eskil’s Town, or Eskilstuna.

At some point—sources differ substantially on this—Eskil's body (now the potent, valuable relic of a saint) was exhumed and stolen by monks from Strängnäs, a larger town nearby, with its imposing cathedral, the seat of the bishop. So all that is left in Eskilstuna besides the saint's name is a modern bronze statue of him in a park. (in six months i never saw this, except on a post card).

Tim, the Lutheran pastor of Forskyrkan, the oldest church in town, built more or less where Eskil was buried, just happens to come from Ortonville, Michigan. He told us that he was given a relic of Eskil, a finger bone that had been handed down the millennium through an old local family. Whether Tim believes this is the real thing or not, I’m not sure. Sweden officially became Protestant in the early sixteenth century and remains nominally Lutheran today, though surveys suggest that only about four percent of Swedes attend church and eighty-five percent do not believe in god.