On the Proportions and Habits of the Aesir

The most troublesome instrument in comparative physiology is the observer’s own body, which he persistently employs as a standard without troubling to calibrate it. An Aesir enters a Human lecture theatre, strikes his forehead upon a gas bracket, and is entered in somebody’s notebook as clumsy. I have required the bracket to be raised. The resulting improvement in Aesir coordination was immediate, and should interest those of my colleagues who consider such qualities entirely hereditary. Any useful description of this people must distinguish the consequences of their bodily construction from the consequences of inhabiting towns whose builders have seldom contemplated a resident exceeding eight feet. Their size affects almost every ordinary action; our arrangements add difficulties which physiology is then unjustly required to explain.

The Aesir frame carries its considerable weight upon broad joints, with unusually substantial surfaces where the principal tendons attach. The feet are wide, the trunk deep, and the limbs less slender than an enlargement of the average Human figure would produce. Mere height is a poor predictor of strength, and the familiar exhibition in which an Aesir labourer lifts a burden beyond the capacity of several Humans establishes very little about the efficiency of his muscles. He also lifts a greater weight of himself whenever he rises. In trials conducted with adjustable apparatus, I found their chief advantage in sustained exertion against a heavy, steady resistance; abrupt reversals of movement proved more costly. A Dwarven dockworker could repeatedly turn and place moderate loads faster than his much larger companion, who nevertheless drew the laden trolley up the incline after both had finished. Employers who purchase labour by stature deserve the accounts they receive.

Their circulation suits this general pattern. The large heart moves a substantial quantity of blood with each contraction, and the resting pulse is slow by Human standards. During prolonged work the rate rises with considerable regularity; irregularity deserves prompt attention even when the individual remains standing and insists upon continuing. I once accepted that assurance from an Aesir surveyor because his colour was good and he had just carried my instruments across a ravine. He collapsed before I had finished congratulating myself upon avoiding unnecessary interference. His recovery owed much to the camp surgeon, whose earlier warning I had dismissed on insufficient grounds. I record the error because a capacity for heavy work is too readily mistaken for a general resistance to bodily failure. Aesir endurance is impressive within its proper conditions, and disturbances of the heart’s rhythm fall conspicuously outside them.

Temperature supplies another condition which industrial employment too often neglects. The Aesir body loses heat slowly in relation to its bulk. Its insulating tissues and the marked reduction of circulation near the skin during cold exposure extend that advantage, although exposed fingers and toes remain liable to injury. Heat presents the greater difficulty, particularly when muscular exertion adds to the burden. At the Bracken railway works I disputed a superintendent’s claim that his Aesir stokers had become idle since midsummer. His evidence consisted of reduced output; he had taken no temperatures anywhere that a stoker actually stood. I took them, insisted upon access to drinking water, and persuaded the men to accept shorter turns at the furnace while ventilation was altered. Output recovered. The superintendent subsequently described this as a successful experiment in discipline, an interpretation requiring a degree of intellectual insulation almost equal to the bodily variety under discussion.

Large hands have likewise encouraged careless judgements about delicacy of touch. The finger pads are thick, yet their useful sensitivity is considerable, especially to movement transmitted through a held object. An Aesir harness-maker can detect a damaged seam by drawing the leather under tension between finger and thumb; the same craftsman may struggle with a Human watch key because he cannot secure it conveniently. Gremlin instruments and Aesir instruments illustrate opposite ends of a practical problem: a tool must permit its user to exert controlled force. When I supplied larger grips during tests of fine placement, much of the supposed Aesir disadvantage disappeared, though some remained, particularly where the fingers had to work close together. There is no reason to conceal that remainder, and equally little reason to inflate it into a judgement upon their intelligence.

Their speech has suffered a similar inflation of a real distinction. Aesir commonly pause before answering and leave intervals within an explanation which a Human interlocutor regards as an invitation to interrupt. The resulting conversation is then cited as evidence that the Aesir cannot follow it; tests allowing answers by selection or manipulation disclose no corresponding general deficit in comprehension. I have also found that an Aesir witness will often withhold an answer while deciding whether the question permits an accurate one, a habit inconvenient to counsel and highly serviceable to an investigator. This is neither universal nor proof of superior wisdom. I have met Aesir who took a considerable time to arrive at nonsense, and have told them so. Whether their characteristic pauses arise chiefly from bodily processes, education or conversational custom remains unsettled.

Their ordinary span of roughly three and a half centuries gives personal experience an unusual reach, though Elven experience may extend much further. Among mammoth herders, knowledge of particular animals can pass through a long working association, and authority consequently depends upon remembered conduct on both sides. I have watched a senior herder abandon a proposed crossing after the leading mammoth repeatedly refused the bank; examination disclosed water undermining the turf. His willingness to investigate the refusal impressed me more than the extravagant claims of command made by our accompanying guide. With births slightly below eight per thousand annually, Aesir communities also replace losses slowly. Their concern for dangerous crossings and overheated workshops therefore has consequences extending well beyond an individual working season. It is reasonable to suppose that longevity and infrequent births influence their institutions; precisely how much they explain requires comparison among Aesir communities, including those whose members have never tended a mammoth.