Here is the difficulty. Snorri was a Christian, writing more than two centuries after Iceland's conversion around the year 1000, for readers who had never sacrificed to Odin. He never saw the religion he describes being practised. His sources were older poems, some of which survive independently and some of which do not, and whatever oral tradition still circulated.
The Prologue's derivation of the gods from Troy is not an accident or a fig leaf; it is a standard medieval move, and versions of it recur inside Gylfaginning and Skaldskaparmal. This raises the question of how far Snorri's whole presentation is shaped by a learned Christian framework, a coherent creation, an ordered pantheon with departments, a linear history ending in destruction and renewal, imposed on material that was originally neither coherent nor systematic.
Positions differ sharply. At one end, scholars treat Gylfaginning as a broadly reliable digest of genuine tradition, on the grounds that where it can be checked against the Poetic Edda and skaldic verse it usually checks out. At the other, it is read as a substantially literary construction in which Snorri harmonised inconsistent sources, filled gaps, and let Christian eschatology colour Ragnarok and Christian narrative shape the death of Baldr. Most working scholarship sits between, accepting the outline while treating uncorroborated detail with caution and being especially wary where Snorri is unusually tidy.
The practical consequence is large. The neat family tree of the Aesir, the nine worlds, the roster of Odin's possessions, the sequence of Ragnarok as popular retellings give it: much of that is Snorri's arrangement, and it should be attributed to him rather than to a pagan Scandinavia that left no theological writing of its own.