The coastguard's farewell (ll.312-319) [Old English]

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
A boastful coastguard?
Meet the new god, same as the old god
Closing


Back To Top
Abstract

The coastguard takes his leave of the Geats, wishing them god's protection.

Back To Top
Translation

"He took the battle brave to the bright
high-souled hall, that he may thither them
go; that hero of combat turned his horse
about, spoke he these words next:
'It is time for me to go. The almighty
father's grace keep you healthy
amidst your quest! I am to the sea,
to hold the shore against fiendish foes.'"
(Beowulf ll.312-319)

Back To Top
Recordings

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

Back To Top
A boastful coastguard?

The coastguard's being called "hero of combat" ("guðbeorna") seems strange. That is, until you notice that it's the third word in an alliterative sequence. But is it only there to hold up a preferred Old English poetic form?

Yeah, probably.

I mean, the coastguard does mention that he has to go back to the coast to guard against "fiendish foes" ("wrað werod" (l.319)). So there could be some verity to his being a "hero of combat." But that term seems a little inflated to me.

Could the poet be having a laugh at the coastguard's expense? "guðbeorna" fit the line that he had written and so he just ran with that and made the coastguard into a bit of a boaster at the end of his speech?

Maybe.

I mean, on the one hand, as much of an exile such a person might feel (even if he does have a crew out there), it definitely wouldn't be wise to send some fop out to guard your coast.

The Danes wouldn't have had the troops to keep a barracks there or anything like that. His crew included, the Danish coastguard in Beowulf probably wouldn't exceed ten men. Tops. So he, the lead coastguard if you will, would definitely need to have proven his mettle in combat.

Though, it's also possible that the position of coastguard is reserved for warriors who are past their prime. No longer able to perform as vigourously on the battlefield they're charged to put their skills and battle-sharpened wits to the test in judging new comers and putting on a fearsome face. With a coast as quiet as the Dane's must be (who, aside from heroes would want to come to a monster-terrorized-golden-hall party?), the job of coastguard definitely seems like something that would get filled by a veteran.

And maybe that's what the poet was going for with the narrative riff on the coastguard's past and then his own seemingly over-zealous admission of what he was heading off to do.

Back To Top
Meet the new god, same as the old god

Throughout Beowulf, people give thanks to a generic male, father god. Many translations (and some instances in the original text) make many of these references into "lord." As such, it's very easy to read these instances of reference to god as references to the Christian god. Since "lord" is frequently used as a deific pronoun in Christianity.

However.

Christianity wasn't the only religion to have a wise, solemn, wrathful, and benevolent patriarchical deity.

The Norse peoples (who definitely had some influence on Beowulf since it's set largely in Daneland of all places) had Odin. The Germanic people had Woden. The Anglo-Saxon creators or audience for this poem were themselves Germanic.

So who's to say that these generic references to god aren't to these pagan gods? The Geats and Danes aren't exactly quoting Old or New Testament verses at each other. Though there is that lengthy reference to Grendel as the kin of Cain and god's war with the giants. That could be a reference to the apparently standard stories told among the peoples of northern Europe about unexplored places.

Knowing with certainty who the deity is that's constantly being referred to is an impossibility. But the idea that it could be either the Christian god or one of the chief Pagan gods isn't just a neat alternative. That could well have been the intention.

No matter where you place our version of Beowulf's composition within the 400 year window generally agreed upon (between 600 and 1000 AD) contemporary Christianity had yet to really spread over all of Europe. As such this story that's ostensibly about a hero's quests and fights with the supernatural could have been used as a way to infiltrate and convert.

Or, any male deity could be read into it as a way of making sure that the epic simply wasn't too preachy.

Beowulf's being bundled with a collection of fantastic tales from the east in the Noel codex could in fact be the book creator's way of sort of sweeping it under the rug because these god references weren't clear then either. That book maker would have been a Christian monk of some sort or another after all.

So, when you're reading Beowulf and come across a reference to the "alwalda" don't just think surfer dude with a long white robe and beard, but think one-eyed, helmeted warrior god, too.

Back To Top
Closing

Next week, the Geats step into Heorot and duly unequip themselves.

Back To Top

Speculation along the way to Heorot (ll.301-311) [Old English]

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Gold as guardian
Of ships and mothers
Closing


Back To Top
Abstract

The coastguard leads Beowulf and his entourage to Heorot.

Back To Top
Translation

"They went upon their way. The boat was bound,
the capacious craft tethered with cord,
secure at anchor. Boar-shapes shone
atop their cheek guards; ornamented gold,
glistening and firmament firm, securely held life:
war-hearted grim men. They all hurried onward,
going down together, until from that high hall of a building,
ornamented and gold-dappled for all to see
that it was foremost among humanity of all
the buildings beneath heaven, the ruler called for them;
light of the people over so great a land."
(Beowulf ll.301-311)

Back To Top
Recordings

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

Back To Top
Gold as guardian

Gold is pretty prevalent in this passage. It'd be easy just to dismiss the metal's shining presence in the Geats' helmets and on Heorot as indicators of wealth and prestige, but I think there's more to it than that. Of course.

In both of these instances I think that the gold is present in the helmet and the hall as a ward against harm. Or maybe as an outward show of the value of the people under the helmets and in the hall.

Putting a monetary value on a life or a major injury isn't something modern. The Anglo-Saxons had a law covering the same thing that required the perpetrator to pay their victim (or, in the case of murder, the victim's next of kin) a fee called "wergild." The major purpose of this fee was to stem the outbreak of feuds and to bring disparate groups together into a group that extended beyond family ties.

It's a bit broad, but literally translated, "wergild" becomes "man price."

This is where this theory gets a little crazy, mostly because of timing issues. If the concept of we-gild had been around for a few generations before Beowulf was put together/originally written, then what would stop payments from becoming a preventative measure? Once it was so established, it's not much further to get to a point where the association of gold with prevention of harm takes on a magical or superstitious flavour.

With such perception of gold as a protective metal in the culture, it would make good sense for it to adorn helmet and horn alike. Thus, pointing out the gold in the helmets and in Heorot's exterior firmly establishes the protective properties of both.

However, in this passage, I think that a contrast is implied.

If gold is a metal that the Anglo-Saxons of Beowulf's time believed to have protective properties then it's already clear to the audience that it hasn't worked so well for Heorot. The mention of gold being in the Geats' helmets, then, calls into question just how effective they'll be in guarding their lives. It's also possible to read the failure of Heorot's golden exterior as evidence for Grendel's chaotic influence. His presence as a kin of Cain causes the proper function of gold to cease.

If all of this rang true for the poem's original audience, then it's hard to believe how much more anticipation there would have been for the fight once Beowulf reveals that he'll faced Grendel completely unarmed. Heck, you could even say that if all this is true and Grendel's power to negate weapons extends to negating the protective properties of gold, then Beowulf's facing him with his bare hands alone evens the field all the more.

Back To Top
Of ships and mothers

"Capacious" of line 302 is, in Old English, "wide-bosomed," or "sidfæþmed."

While a modern interpretation of "wide-bosomed" might be simply "large breasted," the two definitions of "sidfæþmed" suggest that the Anglo-Saxons regarded it as more a matter of volume than size. Considering that all children of the period were nursed, this is hardly surprising. The greater capacity a mother had for milk the more nourishment her child would get, giving that child a better chance to make it through childhood and come into healthy adolescence.

How that relates to a ship is beyond me, except for the idea that travelling in comfort is better than travelling in a cramped space. Plus, a boat with some room would make rowing much easier. Easier rowing means faster travel. So a capacious boat is definitely optimal.

Getting back to this passage in particular, what can be made of the repeat mentions of Beowulf's boat being securely tethered?

Running with the connection between mothers and boats via "sidfæþmed," and taking along for the jog the tradition of referring to boats with feminine pronouns, Beowulf's boat could be regarded as his anima being securely left behind, enabling him to act without sentiment, if necessary. If you want to take the Jungian tack.

Much more straightforward is the interpretation that Beowulf's ship is his only means of getting him back to his homeland. As such, its security is of the utmost importance.

Or, it could symbolize his identity as a true Geat. If he had no way of getting back home, his liege Hygelac could think him dead or gone native, erasing his status as outsider among the Danes and making him a quasi-exile.

Back To Top
Closing

Next week, the coastguard takes the Geats to Heorot's doors and then takes his leave.

Back To Top

The coastguard's reply (Pt.1) (ll. 286-292) [Old English]

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Enter a horse
The coastguard's backstory?
Closing


Back To Top
Abstract

The coastguard answers Beowulf, and passes judgement on what the Geat has told him.

Back To Top
Translation

"The guard spoke, there astride his horse,
the fearless officer: 'Everyone shall
come to know and understand your sharp skill,
words and deeds, as they shall determine.
I hear this, that this warrior is true
to the Scylding lord. Come forth bearing
your weapons and armour; I will lead you:'"
(Beowulf ll.286-292)

Back To Top
Recordings

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

Back To Top
Enter a horse

In the run up to the coastguard's speech we're told that he's on horseback.

This little fact might seem something strange to include before a speech, but I think there's a practical side to doing so. The most obvious benefit to the coastguard being that while on horseback he would be able to project his voice much more effectively than if he were on foot.

The sense that I get from the poet/scribe's having thrown this reference in, though, is that it would have been taken for granted that the coastguard would be ahorse and that is why it's not mentioned until now. After all, it would be kind of difficult to effectively guard a coast on foot. You'd just be too slow.

But then, was it only mentioned now to fill out the poetic meter, or was it only mentioned now to emphasize and remind the audience that the speaker here is in a position of power, of authority? Being ahorse, the coastguard is placed in authority over Beowulf - quite literally.

If this horse is mentioned for emphasis, then it bears directly on what the coastguard says. Specifically line 290, on which the guard restates what he has heard. It makes the guard's judgement of Beowulf as being true in his words, and to be put to the test in front of the rest of the Danes a true one within the court of the coast.

If it's a matter of meter, though, then the poet/scribe's choice says a lot about the contemporary conception of poetry.

Let's say that to the original audience, the coastguard was, of course, on horseback. The mention of that fact brings that fact into high relief. Mentioning the horse, draws it out of the scene that the poet has already evoked so far and places it at the fore of the audience's attention.

Back To Top
The coastguard's backstory?

Related to the coastguard's being on horseback, he, like any gatekeeper, plays a filtering role among the Danes. In his reply to Beowulf he specifically mentions that "Everyone shall/come to know and understand your sharp skill" ("æghwæþres sceal/scearp scyldwiga gescad witan" (l.287b-288)). Yet he was the one to know Beowulf first. It was he that gave Beowulf admittance into the Dane's land on his word as a warrior and destroyer of fiends.

The question I'm left with after this passage, though, is who is this man to arbitrate for the whole of Hrothgar's folk?

It's easy to dismiss a lone coastguard as some sort of near cast out who somehow wound up with the short straw when the guards were pulling for their positions. But he's the one who checks everyone's character before they're admitted into the land. He must have some importance, or he must in some way be an extension of Hrothgar. Perhaps in his younger days he fought alongside the Danish king. Or the position of coastguard is one of two branches of promotion - the other of equal esteem being Hrothgar's comitatus.

Whatever he was, he is now the coastguard. And his position as arbiter of taste has just admitted a gang of warriors into the land.

Back To Top
Closing

Next week the coastguard finishes his speech.

Back To Top

On words of evil and Beowulf's cover letter (ll.270-277a) [Old English]

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Words of evil
Beowulf and cover letter writing
Closing

Back To Top
Abstract

Beowulf introduces the problem he's come to Daneland to solve.

Back To Top
Translation

"'We have much to declare towards your errand,
the freedom of the Danes, no longer shall there evil
be, this I believe. You know - if it is
truly as we have heard -
that against the Scyldings fights a fiend unknown to me,
a thriving ravager, that in the dark of night
threatens you with unknowable fear,
oppression and slaughter.'"
(Beowulf ll.270-277a)

Back To Top
Recordings

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

Back To Top
Words of evil

Line 275 of this passage suggests a pattern in Old English words. Those starting with the letter "d" are more often than not related to evil or, that intention's favoured cover, darkness.

The words that suggest this pattern are "deogol" ("unknown"), "daed-hata" ("ravager"), "deorcum" ("dark of"). In a passage containing roughly 50 words, four may not seem like a lot, but what's important here is that these words were chosen for their alliterative properties.

Now, bringing the poem's use of alliteration into an argument about the meaning of the poem's words might seem backwards.

Calling attention to the fact that Beowulf is written alliteratively can remind people that its words aren't necessarily chosen for their meaning, after all. But, my point in doing so is to also remind readers that any single word in a line of Old English poetry could be used for alliteration. The fact that line 275 contains three words that are linked by both alliteration and connotation seems far too coincidental to be anything but intentional.

So what can be said about this combination of words relating to evil and darkness?

Well, first off, that they're related concepts in the Old English mind.

Further, that since the Old English perception of colour is more about lustre than shade, these words show the association of darkness and evil at work. Dark colours, those lacking lustre, are still regarded as being more dire than their brighter counterparts, just as they would have been regarded during the time that Beowulf strives to capture.

Putting these three things together also establishes Grendel, the subject of this line, as being utterly separate from god. To the Anglo-Saxons, god was a concept of light and intricate patterns (both things negated by such darkness). That his utterance implies an understanding of this association also marks Beowulf as a rather smooth talker, one who can turn a memorable phrase as well as parry and riposte a well timed strike.

Back To Top
Beowulf and cover letter writing

Speaking of Beowulf as well-spoken. This section of his speech to the coastguard fits very nicely into a rhetorical outline of his speech as a whole.

The previous section of his speech was all about his introduction. That section established who Beowulf is as a person and where he stands in relation to the hierarchy of power. That is, he's related to Ecgtheow, who had helped the Danes previously, he's in the service of Hygelac, a famed warrior, and has accomplished deeds of renown in the past.

This week's section has him move from that self-introduction to an explanation of why he (and his crew) have come to Daneland. Although the coastguard would already be well-versed in the troubles of his people, Beowulf's stating the problem (before running through his ability to solve it next week), establishes that he is familiar with said problem. Thus, Beowulf offers the coastguard a view onto his own understanding of what it is he is here to help with.

Rhetorically speaking, this sort of complete introductory speech is still used today.

Unless I've been doing it wrong this whole time, the classic cover letter follows a relatively similar format. You introduce yourself, state the purpose of your application, and then why you're a good fit for the job to which you're applying. The biggest difference between this staple of serious job applications and Beowulf's speech is that instead of explicitly describing the job you're applying for, you implicitly do so in the skills and experiences that you emphasize in your cover letter.

Boasts are also sometimes a shared feature between Anglo-Saxon discourse and cover letter writing. But we won't see any of those in Beowulf until this coming week's extract.

Back To Top
Closing

Check back here on Thursday for the third part of Beowulf's introductory speech. In it he claims to be able to solve all the Danes' problems.

Back To Top

What the Danes' coastguard says of Beowulf (ll.247b-257) [Old English]

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
A matter of translation
Beowulf's self control
Closing


Back To Top
Abstract

The Dane's coastal watchman gaurdedly compliments the Geats' leader and calls on him to identify himself and his purpose.

Back To Top
Translation

            "'Never saw I a mightier man
upon this earth, than this one before me,
this man of might; is that not a retainer,
one worthy of weapons; never would his mien betray him,
a singular sight. Now, you of the far off dwelling place,
sea-farer, I would hear tell of
your singular purpose; haste is best
in saying why you are come hence.'"
(Beowulf ll.247b-257)

Back To Top
Recordings

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

Back To Top
A matter of translation

The last word of line 249 doesn't quite work. I'm not working to get a set meter into my translation of Beowulf, nor am I worried about rhythm. But even John R. Clark Hall and Herbert D. Meritt are bothered by the word at the end of line 249, that they translate as "retainer?" (Hall 302a).

This word is "seld-guma."

Its only ascription in my dictionary is to this instance of it in Beowulf. Apparently the words "seld" and "guma" are not combined anywhere else in the extant body of Old English writing.

The former of the two words in this compound means "hall, palace, residence; seat, throne, dais," and the latter means "man, lord, hero." So literal combinations could be "hall hero," "palace lord," or "throne man." One of these is better than simply "retainer," I think. "Hall hero" does the best job of capturing the sense of "seld-guma."

Just what is that sense?

I think, aside from its literal meaning, "seld-guma" connotes someone who is a regular attendant upon a hall or palace who has distinguished himself somehow. I'm pulling this connotation from the combination itself, since an appellation like "seld-guma" doesn't seem to be something lightly given.

The Anglo-Saxons put a high value on halls, after all, and so to be called "seld-guma" could be considered a great commendation. What's more, in this specific instance it must mean that Beowulf has a very dignified look about him since the coastguard is riffing off of his appearance alone. Association with a hall or residence would confer certain airs upon a person, and Beowulf very clearly carries himself with these in full effect.

Another way to think of the combination is that it connotes "household guard." To lightly assign warriors to guard your house (and by extension your family, valuables, and own life) would be to invite peril. Thus, naming Beowulf as such not only signifies that he has this title back in Geatland, but also that he is a hall hero because a stranger recognizes such qualities in him.

Back To Top
Beowulf's self control

Further along in this week's extract, the coastguard says of Beowulf "never would his mien betray him" ("næfne him his wlite leoge" (l.250)). It's my opinion that this is meant to build on Beowulf as a "seld-guma."

As a warrior, even as a debater, it's important that you control yourself as much as possible. Attacks can be telegraphed by the body in strange ways, after all.

With that in mind, saying that Beowulf's countenance would never betray him suggests that he is in complete control of his expression, letting nothing at all slip out unintentionally.

Once more, this comes back to the coastguard assessing Beowulf on how he carries himself. Based on what's said here, it must be very well indeed. Not to mention, if Beowulf can really keep a lid on things to the extent that's suggested, it's fair to guess that he's a truly great warrior since he would leave his opponents guessing until he struck.

More generally, it must also mean that Beowulf could erase things like fear and joy from his face, making him just as dangerous with words as with swords, as we'll see next week.

Back To Top
Closing

In next week's extract, we hear, for the first time in the poem, from Beowulf himself.

Back To Top

On the coastguard and Anglo-Saxon nationalism (ll.237-247a) [Old English]

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
An idea of nationalism
The bureaucratic border guard
Closing


Back To Top
Abstract

The Danish coastguard begins his speech to the newly arrived Geats.

Back To Top
Translation

"What are ye gear-havers,
wearers of corselets, that thus laden
in a high ship come over the sea-street,
hither with the waves? I am set
as border guard, to keep this isle hold watched,
So that no loathed ones may batter this
Danish land with naval force.
Never in known memory have any
come so openly bearing shields; nor do you
seem eager to get a word of permission from this watchman,
a Dane's consent."
(Beowulf ll.237-247a)

Back To Top
Recordings

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

Back To Top
An idea of nationalism

This passage really says a lot about the conception of nationhood that the poet/scribe was working with. Or, that the poet/scribe wanted to portray.

On line 241, the coastguard is referred to as "endesæta." Clark Hall and Meritt translate this compound as "border-watchman." Taken separately, the word "ende" translates as "border, edge," and "sæta" could be a form of the verb "sittan" meaning "to sit" or it could mean "sitter." So a more modern spin on this compound would be "border-sitter."

What this little word says about conceptions of nationhood is this: A nation's land comes down to what it can directly control or patrol.

This lone Dane is out on the coast making sure that no-one sneaks up on the rest of his people, yes. But, his being at the coast also extends the purview of the Danish people so long as he remains connected to the whole (something that is implied when he sends the Geats speedily on to the interior, where Hrothgar is). However, such a conception of borders or limits is essentially one that relies much more heavily on social constructions than on any sort of physical marker.

In one sense, the Danes don't extend their rule into the sea, but at the same time, their representative at the coast is policing incoming traffic. Not that he can do anything about visitors until they land, but he is nonetheless watching the sea and anticipating threats to the Danes more generally.

At any rate this sense of nationhood is most curious because of its portable nature. Aside from Heorot, the Danes have no constructed physical indicator of their borders. Like the Israelites, or the Anglo-Saxons, they are a people because of their familial and loyalty ties rather than a shared, fixed land.

Back To Top
The bureaucratic border guard

The Watchman's last set of statements seems strange without the other half of his speech. Jumping ahead for a second, his "Never...nor" ("No...ne" (ll.244-246)) statement reflects how impressed he is by the Geats' leader.

More immediately, and sticking to this excerpt, though, mentioning the Geats' not seeking Danish permission to land seems strangely bureaucratic for a bunch of warrior-adventurers.

Nonetheless, having to ask permission at a border to disembark makes sense. Having to deal with one foreigner within your lands would be much easier than having to manage a boatload of them. It's no doubt easier for a tribe like the Danes to trust one foreigner at a time when first meeting them, too.

What makes this part of the extract stand out, though, is just the plain shock that comes across in the Danish watchman's statement. Perhaps he has been coastguard for so long that procedure is something he holds dear because it's all the human interaction he gets. After all, as a coastguard, he's hardly in exile, but he's not exactly back at the hall enjoying the friendly boasting and the mead there.

Alternatively, this could be a reflection of this coastguard's inexperience. He's so green that he shakes his spear before he begins to speak not to intimidate, but because of his nervousness. And he makes a statement about the Geats' lack of respect for protocol because he's never had to deal with such impatience before.

Given the Dane's situation, though, it's not likely that even the newest of their coastguards would be without a good knowledge of warriors landing at the coast. Surely, more than a few have stopped by to try their hands at Grendel. Nonetheless, be he old hand, or greenhorn, the awe expressed in the coastguard's pointing out the Geats' eagerness comes across quite clearly. And it sounds genuine to boot.

Clearly Beowulf has made a good first impression.

Back To Top
Closing

Next week, check back for the second part of the coastguard's speech.

Back To Top

A thoughtful shore guard and Anglo-Saxon karma? (ll.229-236) [Old English]

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Why so curious?
Anglo-Saxon Karma
Closing


Back To Top
Abstract

This week, we're offered a look into the head of a Danish shore guard as he sees the Geats land.

Back To Top
Translation

"Then from the cliffs the Scyldings shore guard saw them,
the one who was to hold the sea-cliffs,
men carrying bright shields across a ship's gangway,
bearing ready war gear; his curiousity overpowered
his thinking, the need to know what these men were.
Then rode out the thane of Hrothgar
to the shore, powerfully shook the
spear in his hand, asked in a querying tone:"
(Beowulf ll.229-236)

Back To Top
Recordings

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

Back To Top
Why so curious?

The core of this short passage is the shore guard's inner conflict. From "his curiousity overpowered/his thinking" ("hine fyrwyt bræc/modgehygdum" (ll.232-233)) we can see that he's generally a cautious, thoughtful sort of guy (possibly an introvert?), but his curiousity overpowers him. What marks this as the core of the passage is what this conflict can tell us about the current feeling among the Danes more generally.

There are a number of things that the man could wonder or assume about those he sees trundling onto the shore, armed and ready for war. But of them, there are two that seem most likely to be in there.

One of these is the possibility that this band of warriors is here to fight Grendel. The other thought is the possibility that the band is an advance party sent to scout out (maybe even take on?) the Danes in open war. Word had spread about their predicament with Grendel, after all. And such word would draw those who wanted to help the Danes as much as those who wanted to take advantage of them. Even fiend-harried, there would no doubt be some gain to be had from taking the storied hall of Heorot.

If we assume that the first possibility is what eggs the man on, then there's not too much more to write on it. He's hopeful that the Danes will be saved and that Grendel will be dealt with. This feeling among the Danes is already well-established in earlier passages. However, if it's the second possibility, that this band of men has come to cause further trouble for the Danes, then things get more interesting.

Perhaps, none have tried to take advantage of the Danes' weakened state just yet, but Hrothgar, king that he is, is well aware that people will do so. As such, maybe this is even the assumption the man has been commanded to make in this sort of situation. Or, perhaps such attempts have already been made and repelled, making this shore guard wary of such parties of warriors.

The latter situation is more likely to generate inner conflict since hope for help would clash with a learned dread of outsiders. As such, the latter situation is more strongly implied here, which means that a whole lot more has been happening in Daneland than the poet's told so far. Not that the poet finds such inter-human conflicts as interesting as those between people and the supernatural.

Back To Top
Anglo-Saxon Karma

Combining the possibility that over the course of Grendel's twelve year reign of terror people came to challenge the Danes as well as Grendel with Beowulf's cyclical and interwoven nature creates a very strong through-line.

Is Beowulf later visited by a supernatural fiend of his own because he freed Hrothgar from another?

Perhaps, buried in old books and found among words told to children beside winter fires, there is a long since dead belief that whatever you helped to rid one person of would come back in a greater form to challenge you directly. Thus Beowulf's supernatural element moves from a pair of ogres/goblins/monsters to a single fire-breathing, night-flying dragon.

Because I've always read Beowulf as a story about the broken link a long chain of events, the end of a way of life, this reading of the poem adds further depth to Beowulf's failure against the dragon.

Hrothgar prospers, or at least survives, because his help is from outside of his group. As such, the group itself is not weakened internally and is able to re-emerge from a lengthy oppression. On the other hand, the dragon that terrorizes the Geats isn't dealt with by some warrior from another group but is finished off by another Geat: Wiglaf.

Because it's a member of the group in peril that saves the group from that peril, by whatever mechanic the matter of disasters works in the world of the poem (and maybe its originator?), the Geats are left permanently weakened.

The Geats' position is also not helped, of course, by the death of their leader. Perhaps the Geats fall not because of the loss of Beowulf alone but because the the outcome of a supernatural revenge system is heaped on top of it.

Back To Top
Closing

Next week, we hear what the shore guard says. Listen up come next Thursday!

Back To Top

An end to Geatish sailing (ll.217-228) [Old English]

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Leaving the sea mysterious
Beowulf as historical allegory (a sketch)
Closing


Back To Top
Abstract

The Geats swiftly arrive on Daneland's bright shores.

Back To Top
Translation

The ship then knew the ocean's motion, was wind-hastened,
became foamy-necked, became seabird like,
until near the time of day they had left,
after their ship with curved prow had glided,
when those well-travelled ones saw land,
dazzling sea cliffs, steep hills,
an ample headland; then was sailing simple,
the journey at an end. From that ship sprang
the Geats onto the sands,
their boat they bound there - they shook their mailcoats,
war gear; they thanked God then,
the one that made their ship's going smooth.
(Beowulfll.217-228)

Back To Top
Recordings

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

Back To Top
Leaving the sea mysterious

For a poem about sea-faring peoples, the poet's definitely not spinning out what you'd expect. Every time that someone travels by sea it's usually glossed over. There's often something about it being swift, or sailors being lucky with conditions, but no real detail about it is given.

Maybe, in this poem for a people looking to settle into a fixed identity, the idea was to keep transitory acts (like sailing) to a minimum. If that's the case, then the poet definitely did his/her job: there's not a true sailing scene in the whole poem. Though, there is the matter of Beowulf and Breca's swimming match.

Perhaps the Geats' trip over to Daneland is not shown because it would interfere with the importance of the swimming match. After all, the sea would hold no mystery or power or be able to inspire as much of a response if details about safe passage across it were given. With the sailing scenes (and even Beowulf's swimming back to Geatland after a major battle later in the poem) as short as they are, the sea retains its mystery. And with that mystery can come monsters, like those that Beowulf fights as he defends his friend.

Perhaps the power of this mystery was meant to extend further, as well. For, if the Anglo-Saxons of the British Isles wanted to feel like a grounded, rooted people, then making something as transitional as the sea a mystery could help them do so. For mysterious things are usually alienated or alien things.

Back To Top
Beowulf as historical allegory (a sketch)

An interesting detail is contained in line 222: "brimclifu blican." I translated that second word, "blican," to dazzling (in line with the Clark Hall & Meritt Anglo-Saxon Dictionary's definition). Perhaps most of northern Europe had the white cliffs that are now associated with Britain (thanks in no small part to Matthew Arnold). So, is Daneland, in all things but figures and fealties, another Britain?

Going back to the Anglo-Saxons as a sea-faring people, they're sure to have noticed the white cliffs of Britain facing France. So if Beowulf was written by the Anglo-Saxons, and not just translated from a language you might expect given peoples' and places' names, then maybe that's a detail signalling that Daneland represents Britain.

If Daneland is understood as Britain, then perhaps Grendel is the Celts, or some sort of spirit or genius of the Celts that the Anglo-Saxons didn't care for. Reading Grendel in this metaphorical way, it then becomes possible to interpret Beowulf himself within the same historical framework. Where Grendel is the embodiment of what is wrong with the place that the Anglo-Saxons (the Danes) have chosen to settle, Beowulf represents what is just and what is good - Beowulf is god's instrument for the creation on earth of what is to be harmonious and perfect. Like the Anglo-Saxons he came from elsewhere, but frees those that he meets and is elevated to kingship because of his prowess and own merits rather than inheritance.

In fact, he becomes king because of the people's accord when a new ruler has to be found after Hygelac's line is ended. Ultimately, though, what Beowulf's death could mean in this metaphorical interpretation of the hero gets tricky. Perhaps it is a kind of prophecy of what would come next for the Anglo-Saxons, after they had waned like their other heroic peoples, the Jews of the book of Exodus, had.

Back To Top
Closing

This entry wraps things up for 2013. Check back for the first post of 2014 on the third Thursday of January!

Back To Top

Words from the "gif-stol" (ll.164-174) [Old English]

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
All about the "gif-stol"
On 'secret' 'courage'
Closing


Back To Top
Abstract

At long last we're given details about Grendel's grip on Heorot beyond a body count.

Back To Top
Translation

"So the fiend trespassed deeply against humankind,
the horror of the lone-goer, oft cursed,
awful affliction; Heorot was lived in,
the richly adorned hall was his by gloomy night,
though he could not approach the throne,
the treasure to the Measurer, nor could he be known.
This did much to the misery of the Scyldings,
their hearts broken. Many oft sat
with the ruler to give counsel, esteemed advice,
things that the rash and the best were fixing
to do against the awful horror."
(Beowulf ll.164-174)

Back To Top
Recordings

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

Back To Top
All about the "gif-stol"

As the physically stronger party, Grendel claims physical control over Heorot, though the Danes retain legal ownership of it. But Grendel, even as a violent squatter, cannot approach "the throne" ("gif-stol" (l.168)).

The Old English word used here for "throne" can also mean "gift-seat." The difference between the two translations is minimal, but the reason for there being two in the first place is because "gif-stol" doesn't just refer to the throne as a place of power. It refers to the gift-giving role that any good ruler had to play, as well. The throne is the place from which a ruler would dispense gifts and favours.

It's entirely possible that the throne is set aside so that it can be the exclusive purvey of a ruler, imbuing him with a kind of positive, public solitude. It's a place in which a ruler could be guaranteed clearer thinking and judgement in the matter of gifts because it was the ruler's alone - no one else could enter that head (or cheek) space. Gifts were important in early medieval Europe, to the point where their being given and being received was closely watched. Who gave what to whom and vice versa mattered greatly to peoples' reputations and standing.

Grendel can't approach this gift-giving center, however.

In the text, the implication is that the throne is somehow dedicated to god. Building on the story that the scops had been singing in Heorot when times were still great, it seems that Grendel, as an accursed of god, can't approach the throne because it is simply not for him. In a gift-driven society in which gifts could end feuds (and start them), not being able to approach the throne would mean that Grendel is cut off from a major social function. Being so isolated from society at large shouldn't matter much to one who is already quite monstrous and thus excluded from society, and, really, it doesn't seem to. The mention of Grendel's not being able to approach this throne reads more like a detail added to show that there was hope yet. After all, Grendel "could not be known" ("ne his myne wisse" (l.169)).

I take this extra clause to mean that he could not be acknowledged by anyone in the throne (seated there, or to whom it had been dedicated), and therefore showing that Grendel was indeed cut off from society at large, reinforcing his isolation. It's interesting to note that there's no mention of Grendel's aggression in this passage. He rules the hall by night. After reading this passage, it almost seems that Grendel could be capering about it, revelling in being in a public, social space.

Back To Top
On 'secret' 'courage'

Some curious words appear in the latter half of this passage.

First, on line 172, we have "counsel" or, in Old English: "rune." It's a neat philological fact that the Old English word for "mystery, secret, secrecy" is also the one for "counsel, consultation." It gives the sense that rulers were believed so wise and powerful not necessarily because they themselves were, but because their counsel - with whom they worked behind the scenes - helped them to be so. The dictates and gifts made from the throne, would, after all, be made by the ruler alone. Thus the power of many would appear to be the power of one in public.

One line later we run into the word that I've translated as "rash": "swiðferhðum." This word pulls triple duty as far as Modern English translators are concerned, since it can mean "bold," "brave," or "rash." In the context of the survivors giving Hrothgar advice about what to do with Grendel, "rash" is the best fit because it definitely reflects the attitude and outlook of some of his counsellors, as well as their advice.

The "and" between "rash" and "best" is my own insertion. I added it to distinguish between the "rash" and the "best" who are giving Hrothgar advice.

Back To Top
Closing

Next week, we learn more about the measures that the Danes have taken to ward off Grendel.

Back To Top

Desperate Danes, Poetic License (ll.146b-163) [Old English]

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
More feuding, less sin
Grendel kin
Closing


Back To Top
Abstract

Grendel's rule over Heorot becomes news of the world, and the Danes' plight becomes well known.

Back To Top
Translation

               "It was so for some time,
Twelve winters of anger the friends of Scyld suffered,
each became accustomed to such hardship,
rougher sorrow; because of that they became speakers,
sons of the age, knowledge of them was unhidden,
those troubled deeds of old, that Grendel lashed
out against Hrothgar for a long time, the hateful
monster's way, years full of failures and feuding,
a perpetual siege. That kin would not treat
with any man of the Danes for even the shortest time,
deadly evil from afar, as few did hope,
nor were there any who believed that his
hand could be stayed with a bright death price;
the fierce enemy was, after all, the pursuer,
a dark death shadow over the veterans and youths,
those who tarried and planned, night upon night
he held the misty moors, men never knew
whither the fiendish monster rapidly went."
(Beowulf ll.146b-163)

Back To Top
Recordings

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

Back To Top
More feuding, less sin

Once more we're faced with the classic phrase: "fyrene ond fæhðe " (l.153). However, I took a bit of a liberty in its translation. Rather than go with a usual English word for "fyrene" like "transgression," or "sin," I went with "failure." This word rings true here because the phrase is used as a blanket term for the Danes' relationship with Grendel over the twelve years of his terror. Pairing "failure" and "feud" reflects this relationship pretty much perfectly.

Why?

Because those twelve years are definitely twelve years of fueding. The Danes and Grendel exchange blows (though in a rather one sided way) because of some initial offense for all twelve of those winters. At the same time, the Danes attempt to end this feud in the ways that they're used to doing so. Ways such as trying to parlay with him (l.154-155), and paying "a bright death price" ("beorhtre bote" (l.158)). Why Grendel should be paid off with a "death price" remains unanswered, though it implies that the Danes may have killed one of his at some earlier point. Or, it could be a sign that the Danes were simply trying everything and anything.

Of course, none of the tactics that the Danes under Hrothgar try succeed. So, in their feud with Grendel, they fail.

The Danes fail to understand what it is that has turned Grendel on them, and, maybe, they fail to understand that Grendel isn't just monstrous in appearance, but also in his nature. Grendel can't be dealt with in the same way that some other human clan or group could be dealt with.

Thus, translating "fyrene and faedthe" as "failure and feuding" describes perfectly the Danes experience over their terrible twelve years. The phrase also gels well with the idea of a "perpetual siege" ("singale sæce" (l.154)), since both are terribly one sided conflicts in one way or another. Plus, it alliterates much more smoothly than "sin and feuding" or "transgression and hostility."

Back To Top
Grendel kin

Getting back to the Danes' trying to pay Grendel off to end the feud, the latter half of this extract suggests that there's a bit more to this attempt. Particularly in line 159, where Grendel is called "the pursuer" ("ehtende" (the past tense of the verb "ehtan" ("to pursue"), but I have translated it as a noun)).

Referring to Grendel in such a way suggests that the payment the Danes tried to make to him wasn't so much to repay Grendel for some past wrong they had done to him. Instead, it seems that the Danes are trying to pay Grendel to stop him from killing their own. How exactly this is supposed to work doesn't make clear sense. After all, it's a bit too much of an appeal to whatever humanity Grendel may share with the Danes. It's enough to give you a strong sense that Grendel's not just monstrous because of his appearance and actions, but because he is completely outside of the usual civil way that people in Beowulf's world interact.

The Danes' trying to pay Grendel to stop his killings could also be because of a misunderstanding on their part. However, I don't think that's entirely the case. The poet's reference to Grendel as "that kin" ("sibbe" (l.154)) implies that he was regarded as some distant relation of the Danes. Maybe this is a nod back to the scop's noting that the monsters are the kin of Cain. From there, the Danes could surmise that Grendel, a monster, is related to Cain, the son of Adam, the father of humanity, and thus (distantly) related to them.

On a more meta level, the reference to monsters being the kin of Cain and the poet's referring to Grendel as "the kin" here could be the Beowulf poet/scribe's own commentary on the power and influence of stories (or the gullibility of people in the past). Perhaps Grendel has no relation to the Dane's whatsoever, and they are only trying all that they are and loosely referring to him as "kin" because the scop's history of the world told them such was so.

Back To Top
Closing

Next week, we'll hear more about Grendel's attacks and the Danes' responses.

Back To Top

Grendel the grim and greedy (ll.138-146a) [Old English]

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Confrontation, or ambush?
Grendel's reign
Closing



Back To Top
Abstract

The poet describes how Grendel has terrorized the Danes, and has the area around Heorot in his goblin grip.

Back To Top
Translation

"Then was he easy to find roaming
about elsewhere seeking rest,
a place to recline and relax, to which he left a trail,
that token spoke truly of the object
of the hall-dwellers' hate; they sought
refuge outside the hall once that fiend was running free.
So he ruled in defiance of right,
one of lesser stuff against all, until that
greatest of houses stood silent."
(Beowulf ll.138-146a)

Back To Top
Recordings

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

Back To Top
Confrontation, or ambush?

Each of these extracts has brought up questions. The first that comes up here is why the Danes don't track Grendel back to his resting place, or lay in wait and ambush him there. The latter of those two is out since it would be considered underhanded.

Any tactic that involved facing an enemy in an indirect way would have been considered cowardly or deceitful - both of which were traits to be avoided. On the one hand a code of honour is definitely responsible for the Anglo-Saxons' looking down on such indirect tactics as ambush, but, at least within the realm of literature, I think the reason that Grendel isn't merely staked out is because of the prevalence of feuds. If you were trying to minimize or avoid trivial feuds, the best way to do so would be to deal directly with friends and enemies alike - any misunderstanding, after all, could burst into a feud.

After all, on top of their inter-generational nature, feuds also involved a complex system of monetary compensation, and not every family or group in the Anglo-Saxon world had a hoard of gold to which they could turn for such payments. Also speaking from literature, it would not surprise me if some of the more astute admirers of poetry at the time considered Sigurd's ambushing the dragon Fafnir the spark that ignites the blaze of tragedy that engulfs him and his family.

As to why the Danes don't just follow the "token [that] spoke truly" ("gesægd soðlice sweotolan tacne" (l.141)) back to Grendel's resting place and attack him there, all I can put forward is Grendel's strength. He has already overpowered the Danes in their own "home turf" so to speak, and so they probably figure that facing him on his own turf would not go any better for them. Even if they didn't have the concept of a home field advantage, Grendel's resting place would likely be somewhere in the moors, an environment that's less than hospitable considering its boggy ground, swarming insect life, and whatever superstitious trappings were attached to it as a place that is "Other."

Back To Top
Grendel's reign

Grendel's rule of Heorot is here characterized as "in defiance of right,/one of lesser stuff against all" ("wið rihte wan,/ana wið eallum" (ll.144-145)).

First, the "one of lesser stuff" is my interpretation of the lone wan meaning "lacking," "deficient," or "wanting." The reason I chose to unpack the word in that way is because it underscores the poet's overturning of the proper sense of order at this point in the poem. Grendel, the representative of devilish forces is winning, while the Danes, not exactly paragons of virtue, but nonetheless people striving to do good as far as they understand it, are brought low. So turning wan into "one of lesser stuff" makes sense.

Grendel's rule over Heorot and its surroundings at this point is a definite low point. Not only because the Danes are without their meeting/mead hall, but because it's a building that stands as a high point of civil achievement. It's a place that is made to be sturdy, and that's finished with stunning gold eaves. The specificity of the decor isn't accidental, no doubt putting gold into a building's roof was a way that the Anglo-Saxons tried to curry favour with their god(s). Though later scholars, and maybe even the religious who wrote down Beowulf, would see Heorot as an example of pagan pride and vanity, it nonetheless is something that stands as a sign of a people doing good as they see it.

Strangely this sort of cultural clash between pagan and Christian world views is most prevalent before Beowulf enters the story. Maybe this shift away from the clash is because his character is quite overwhelmingly proto-Christian, coming in and bragging that he'll beat Grendel by the grace of god and so on. Whatever the case, this clash of world views becomes even more prevalent in the poem's coming lines.

Back To Top
Closing

Tongues in Jars will be updating normally again from here on out. So be sure to check back next week!

Back To Top

Grendel's complications (ll.126-137) [Old English]

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Grendel's hesitation
"G" is for vendetta
Closing


Back To Top
Abstract

In the aftermath of Grendel's attack there is great sorrow. This sadness is amplified when Grendel shortly strikes again.

Back To Top
Translation

"Then, outside the hall at daybreak,
was Grendel's war-strength seen by human eyes;
after that was there weeping to heaven,
a morning full of mourning. Famous warriors,
long tested true lords, sorrowful sat,
the mighty moaned, the lost thanes saddened them,
until they found the faint, loathful footprints that
the evil doing fiend had made. That was helpful to
the beast's escape,hateful and sluggish. That night
was not long alone, nigh the next night he again brought
more violent death and seemed not to hesitate as before,
bringing violence and outrage; he came down heavily upon
          them."
(Beowulf ll.126-137)

Back To Top
Recordings

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

Back To Top
Grendel's hesitation

So apparently Grendel was holding back in his first visit. Based on the penultimate line of this week's extract, Grendel "seemed not to hesitate as before" ("no mearn fore"(l.136)). But what was there to hesitate about?

The suggestion that Grendel was holding back implies that he had some scrap of humanity in him on that first night, and it was this that was picked up on in last week's entry. So, for some reason, after that first attack Grendel descends into something worse.

Perhaps Grendel was merely testing Heorot and those that he found there. But why would he need to test them? Again, it seems that Grendel had something in him to help him to know that he had something in common with his targets. Grendel is the kin of Cain, after all.

So, even if he could feel some commonality with the thanes of Heorot, he would be feeling it from the perspective of one who has a cursed nature. It's safe to say, then, that Grendel's perspective, feelings of kinship/commonality aside, is different at its base. Different enough to realize that he was somehow better than them, or that they were not a threat, not something against which he would have to hold back.

As a quick aside, John Gardner's Grendel is a great study in the ghoul's character, and it seems that Gardner drew more from Beowulf for it than you might think.

Back To Top
"G" is for vendetta

Carrying forward the ideas of the feud between god and the monsters and the distant kinship between the Danes and Grendel (from last week's entry), there's a curious word on line 137. This word is "fæhðe," which means "violence," "outrage," or "vendetta," according to Clark Hall & Meritt's Anglo-Saxon Dictionary.

Now, a "vendetta" isn't quite the same thing as a "feud." The former is something that's generally more one-sided, something that a person embarks upon because of a perceived wrong, whereas the latter is usually something where both parties are at least dimly aware of some mutual wrong(s) that are the cause for their enduring dispute.

So, since the feud between god and monsters is something limited to the songs of the scops, it's not likely that Grendel's striking Heorot as part of the age old feud of which they sing. Whether it's the noise, or being god's preferred offspring, Grendel is raining violence down upon Heorot as part of a vendetta, a one-sided feud. To modern readers this could be something rooted in Grendel's nature as a monster. But, to the poem's early audiences, a thing like a vendetta would seem monstrous in itself.

Before authority became centralized in the form of kingdoms and fiefdoms, one of the great laws of Northern Europe was the feud. But it was, in the ideal case, something that involved both parties, and was a means of redressing a wrong that was great enough to legitimize the bloodshed inherent in such a conflict.

To bring a vendetta against someone or some other group would be seen as a flaunting of the law of the land, and the action of an imbalanced person. Thus, Grendel's made to be extra monstrous because of the apparently unmotivated violence that he brings to the Danes. Not simply because he's acting so violently, but because he's carrying a vendetta to the hall.

Back To Top
Closing

In next week's extract, Grendel's assaults drive people away from Heorot, and word of the hall's woe spreads across the world.

Back To Top

Further words on Grendel (ll.115-125) [Old English]

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
The character of Grendel
Cathartic Violence
Closing


Back To Top
Abstract

Grendel breaks into Heorot after a feast, and seizes thirty thanes, whom he handily devours.

Back To Top
Translation

"Knew he then what he sought, once night fell,
at the high house, how the Ring-Danes
after beer-drinking would be stayed there;
found he therein a fortune of princes
sleeping fast after the feast - they knew no sorrow,
men of the war spear. The unholy figure,
grim and greedy, was quickly enthused,
savage and severe, and at once he seized
thirty thanes; after that he went out
heading loudly home with his prey,
with that slaughter he returned to his dwelling."
(Beowulf ll.115-125)

Back To Top
Recordings

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

Back To Top
The character of Grendel

Grendel's terrifying assault on Heorot is told of in these lines. But in them, there's also something said about Grendel's character.

First off, immediately we're told that Grendel is capable of self-knowing. The very first clause of the extract is "knew he then what he sought" ("Gewat ða neosian" (l.115)). This self knowledge means that Grendel isn't just a rampaging beast, but is something more. He's the kin of Cain, sure, but that doesn't remove a thinking brain from his body. So Grendel's motives can be more complex than simply hunger or rage.

His enthusiasm for the slaughter also suggests some parts of his personality. Grendel is excitable and, perhaps because of the poetry used, it seems as if he glowers over the sight of the thanes. Almost as if he sees the thirty there and immediately begins to fantasize about a possible future wherein he's devouring/stealing them all away. Unlike the Anglo-Saxons' (likely) understanding of animals, Grendel has some degree of emotional feeling and seems like he's capable of planning ahead. But, this emotion is tempered by something, at least in the way the poet describes it, more reasoned.

The Anglo-Saxon word for "seized" on line 122, "genam," means just that "seized." However, it's not a word that was used on a day to day basis, rather, it's from the Anglo Saxon legal vocabulary. So Grendel seized the thirty thanes in a legal way.

Perhaps this action of seizure, along with showing that Grendel is overly litigious, also suggests that Grendel is merely carrying on a feud, taking what is legally his, or doing so with the force of the law behind him. In the feud between god and the kin of Cain it's not exactly clear how long it's been since a blow was struck against god, and so taking thirty thanes might be Grendel's way of evening things out.

Of course, since this is just one word, it's entirely possible that "genam" was used merely because it fit the meter of the line. Not being bound up in the line's alliteration (that job falls to "r" here) though, there's not much in the way of formal reasons to use a word other than "genam."

Back To Top
Cathartic Violence

For a scene that describes such a ghoulish incident, there's very little in the way of graphic description. No limbs are torn from bodies, no blood is drunk from wounds, no specific damage is done to any body whatever. Plus, given the way that Beowulf will describe this incident to Hygelac later on, adding in Grendel's glove, it seems like a very clean snatching.

This clean description helps to strengthen the argument that Grendel's actions have some force of law behind them. So long as graphic descriptions of violence are intended by the poet/writer to communicate a disruption of relations (the sort of thing that happens when warring armies meet, or rivals square off) its lack suggests the lack of a disruption of relations. So long as graphic descriptions of violence indicated such a disruption to Anglo-Saxons, this clean description of Grendel's seizure could be read as an indication that Grendel is in the right in his stance against Heorot.

Yet, if you follow that interpretation, it would also mean that Beowulf is in the wrong. After all, the description of the fight between Grendel and Beowulf is quite brutal, going so far as to include a poetic rendering of an arm being ripped off. So if Grendel's clean sweep of the thanes suggests his being in the right, Beowulf's gruesome assault on Grendel suggests that he is in the wrong.

Assuming that it's the other way around, though, Beowulf enters into the right, while Grendel's lack of violence disempowers him. Even as this lack comes across in a wild act of violence against Heorot.

Yet, even read in such a traditional way, Grendel can still be read as a complex character. The lack of concrete physical description of the violence he perpetrates implies that his violence is unfulfilled. This violence is a desire, an urge, that has no expression.

Though ideas of the humours come centuries after Beowulf's being composed/written, a long standing idea about the human body is that it houses certain energies. Holding these energies up generally meant that something would shortly go wrong, and some illness would result. Violence was often understood as one of the chief ways to expend this energy. Being unable to expend energy, even through violence, could be a terrible fate.

Perhaps that's at the root of Grendel's violence against Heorot. It's not that he's bothered by the noise, but the sound of others partying and expending energy, living life, reminds him of his unfulfilled urge. So Grendel lashes out, but as part of the curse of being kin of Cain, he is unable to expel his energies as he expresses his urges. Grendel can still be violent, of course, but he isn't able to sate his urge to be so, it remains a fixed quantity.

Back To Top
Closing

In the next entry, the following morning finds Grendel's gruesome visit and he strikes again.

Back To Top

Feuding References (ll.99-114) [Old English]

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Referential storytelling
Justification through a feud
Closing


Back To Top
Abstract

Grendel has his first mention by name, and his origin is quickly explained.

Back To Top
Translation

"So the warriors of the hall lived in joy,
were prosperous, until one began
committing crimes, like a fiend of hell.
It was the ghastly ghoul called Grendel,
border walker from the marshlands, he that the moors held,
whose mire was his mansion; from the land held fast by
woe laden man-shaped sea beasts,
since the Shaper had condemned them
as kin of Cain - so the almighty Lord punished
him for that murder, when he slew Abel.
Cain was given no good from that, the Measurer cast him
far abroad, done for his evil, away from humankind.
Then the monsters all awoke,
ogres and elves and orcs,
also giants, those that waged long warfare
against God; until he gave them their reward."
(Beowulf ll.99-114)

Back To Top
Recordings

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

Back To Top
Referential storytelling

To anyone familiar with Greek myth, there's a strange mash up of origin stories happening here. The final two lines suggest some sort of war between god and monsters, specifically giants. In Greek myth, such a story would be a reference to the Gigantomachy wherein the Giants (the force of chaos) fought against the gods of Olympus (the force of order).

Taken as a reference to early parts of the Old Testament, these lines could be describing an Anglo-Saxon take on the Nephilim, the half human/half angel offspring of angels who walked the earth and cavorted amongst humanity. In the Old Testament stories, interestingly, given the Anglo-Saxons' warrior status, these angels are allegedly the ones who showed humans how to work metal and create weapons for war.

This tale of a war between god and monsters could also be a reference to the story of the Roman de Brut, an epic poem about the first settling of what's now England, and the giant that the settlers had to overcome to claim the land for their own. But the version of that poem written by Wace is dated to 1150-1155 with much more certainly than Beowulf's own dating. As a result of this late date, Beowulf would have had to have been written/composed later in the twelfth century. Alternatively, it could well have influenced Wace (along with his major source for his Roman de Brut, Geoffrey of Monmouth's Historia Regium Britanniae).

Nevertheless, the story about a war between god and giants could be construed in a number of historical ways, too. Perhaps it's a Christian insertion into the poem, meant to represent how Christian monotheism overtook pagan polytheism (something that is quite active in this leg of the poem, actually). Or maybe there's more of an historical/allegorical bent at work, the figures on either side standing for certain factions that faced off in the poets/writers' distant past.

Whatever the case, this event is definitely something that took place far into the past. After all, it's clearly stated that the monsters all awoke after the condemnation of Cain (ll.109-112). Likely this is how the story goes because Biblically Cain is the first human outcast. Surely, Adam and Eve had their own losses from being cast out of the garden, but to be cast out from the cast outs would make Cain particularly damned. Especially in the eyes of the Anglo-Saxons, for whom community and social inclusion were integral for survival.

Back To Top
Justification through a feud

The whole "kin of Cain" ("Caines cynne" (l.107)) thing is interesting. It takes something that is by its nature as a creature of the borderlands mysterious and other and gives it a lineage. Grendel isn't just some monster that no one knows anything about, but is instead related to the first murderer and, curiously, an early farmer. A cheeky reading of the Cain and Abel story, could, in fact, be that god, with childish aplomb, prefers meat to vegetables.

Anyway, giving Grendel a lineage and taking the mystery out of him thereby, makes him more approachable. It feeds into the feud culture of the Anglo-Saxons as well. After all, without a hereditary feud to conclude/perpetuate, Grendel would be somewhat in the right, since the Danes are encroaching on his territory. What's more, Grendel only attacks Heorot once he's provoked by the noise from within. Giving Grendel a clear ancestor, though, brings the feud element into play, which makes who's in the right and who's in the wrong muddier. After all, any godly person would surely take the side of god in a war with the monsters. Surely.

Running with the idea that Beowulf was substantially altered when written down for the sake of Christianizing the Anglo-Saxons, any feud element would be an incredible asset. From the perspective of a missionary such elements would be their "in;" to the Anglo-Saxons feuds were eminently familiar.

This familiarity would help make the Christian parts of the story seem more understandable. Particularly helpful in this area is the final line of this extract. The climactic sarcasm to be found there makes it prime for Anglo-Saxon appreciation, and could be there as a kind of medieval fan service.

Back To Top
Closing

Grendel ventures into the hall next week, and there wreaks his first reported havoc.

Back To Top

Grendel's glimpse, and the poets' creation song (ll.86-98) [Old English]

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Sympathy for Grendel?
Singing the song of creation
Closing


Back to Top
Abstract

Outside the revels in the newly erected Heorot, a dark presence is stirred by poets' songs of creation.

Back to Top
Translation

"Then a terrible demon had a time of
difficult suffering, as it would be in darkness,
he who daily heard the joy makers
loud in the hall; there hands were waved over harps,
there the poets sang clear. Told they of
knowing the long ago provenance of all people,
spoke of how the Almighty made the earth,
this beauteous world, and the water that flows about it;
set the sun and the moon victoriously above
with rays to light the ways of people,
and adorned the rolling hills
with limbs and leaves; how the Maker shaped
each variety of life, all things that have motion."
(Beowulf ll.86-98)

Back to Top
Recordings

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

Back to Top
Sympathy for Grendel?

Though Beowulf is an old poem, and it's easy to say that old things (especially old works of art and literature) come from black and white world views, Grendel (and Beowulf's other monsters) are sometimes more sympathetic than you'd expect.

Though this isn't a formal introduction of the ravager of Heorot, it's still his first appearance, and yet the poet does nothing to make him seem like a terrible thing. Aside from the whole "terrible demon" ("ellengæst earfoðlice" (l.86)) thing. But names can just be clever fronts and masks placed onto things to draw attention away from their true portrayal.

After all, demon or no, how would an early medieval audience react to the "difficult suffering" ("geþolode"(l.87)) of a demon? Possibly with cheers and grins, but that could also be too simplistic an assumption on our part. Though, within this excerpt there isn't much evidence to the contrary.

All that we do have here to suggest that Grendel could be a sympathetic character is the parenthetical "as it would be in darkness," ("se þe in þystrum bad," l.87)). Grendel's natural state is such darkness, and as a people who measured color by brightness and not by hue (as we do), such a state would be unimaginably bleak. Possibly even reason to pity even a monster like Grendel.

Yet, by the nature of alliterative verse, this little description of Grendel's natural living conditions could just be here to fill out the second half of a line. However, a variety of other descriptions could fit here too, perhaps more physical, or perhaps describing Grendel's position while listening to Heorot's hustle. The point is, though the form of the description was chosen to fit the form of the poem, its content could still have been chosen with intention and not just to add a flourish to the piece.

If then, the description of Grendel's usual living conditions as being what you'd expect of darkness is carrying some intention, its placement makes it prime material for a sympathetic reading of Grendel. Or, at the least, it raises the question of why describe a demon's habitat if they're already well known and reviled. Without (unfortunately) other texts to back me up on this, I think it's because demons were still a very abstract thing when Beowulf was written or composed. In fact, if the version of the poem that we have is one that was altered by the Christian-trained scribes writing it down, then perhaps this description is a sarcastic Anglo-Saxon addition and something that's calling attention to the otherness of Grendel. Perhaps it is, as I read it, calling such attention so that we the readers begin to pity Grendel, the dweller in the silent dark.

Back to Top
Singing the song of creation

After our brief first glimpse of Grendel, we're given a rundown of the story of creation. One that rolls the creation story found in Genesis into what seems like a rather close knit series of events. At the least, it cuts down the Biblical account to a few lines. But why that story? Beowulf's not obviously a poem about creation, and so you've got to wonder.

It's possible (even probable) that halls like Heorot were figured as lights in the wilderness. Pockets of civilization where new ties were formed and old enemies could (once they were ready) talk things out over mead and meat. Or, perhaps it was an old tradition to sing stories of creation at the breaking-in parties of grand halls to reflect the beginnings that the builders and ring lords had set in motion. This rendition of creation is, after all, a very effervescent version, its wording evoking a bright, fresh scene. Maybe it's even a kind of invocation or blessing to sing of creation over a new venture that's the scope of a mead hall.

Looking out to other works of Old English, there's one curious connection. This is Caedmon's Hymn, a poem shorter than the section in this excerpt about creation on the same topic. Though Caedmon's Hymn is also framed with a story about the shepherd Caedmon and how his inspiration to sing gave him that hymn. However you choose to read it, singing of creation just seems to be the way the Anglo-Saxons celebrated freshness and newness.

Back to Top
Closing

Next week Grendel's formally introduced, and we get some of his background.

Back to Top

Hall building but not slave trading (ll.64-73) [Old English]

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Hrothgar - The Builder
What won't be traded at Heorot
Closing


Back To Top
Abstract

Hrothgar sees success in battle, grows his reputation, and dreams of a fantastical hall.

Back To Top
Translation

Hrothgar was given success in war,
honour in battle, such that his kith and kin
eagerly listened, until the young one grew
into a mighty troop lord. His mind soon turned
to the glory of being called a hall lord,
a mead hall made by the work of many,
that the children of the ages would ever ask about,
and therein to dole out all
to young and old alike, such as god gave him,
all but the people's land and lives.
(Beowulf ll.64-73)

Back To Top
Recordings

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

Back To Top
Hrothgar - The Builder

Once again, at least as I've translated it, we get some reference to the importance of reputation. Curiously though, the buzz around Hrothgar sounds like it was built on the foundation of his own deeds. Though, the verb phrase "eagerly listened" ("georne hyrdon"; a literal translation of which would be "eagerly heard" (l.66)) could be the poet's way of saying that Hrothgar himself, or whatever scop he had in his employ, sang of these deeds in a most compelling way. A way that magnified exploits that might otherwise be rather paltry.

In either case, it's interesting that the builder of a hall like Heorot would first build up his own reputation. Looking at his career trajectory, from successful warrior to troop lord, to ambitions of hall lordship, and then the fulfilment of that ambition, it seems that Hrothgar himself is a building. One built entirely on a reputation in fact; a foundation that says quite a bit about the importance of a reputation at the time.

But could it say more?

In line 69, we're told that Hrothgar envisioned his hall as the work of many. This suggests that its building could be something like a modern Amish barn raising, but, given this description, at the very least it would be community effort. What I then wonder is if such a project wouldn't create a further reputation of one's being able to turn their words into physical objects. Hrothgar envisions the hall - he must have told someone of these ambitions - and then through his will and influence he brings it about. As a mythic poem would it be out of line to suggest that Hrothgar as a mythic figure could be called "The Builder"?

Back To Top
What won't be traded at Heorot

Quite a well balanced extract, the end of this part of the poem is as rich as its beginning.

Particularly the final clause, which makes it plain that neither land nor peoples' lives are among those things that Hrothgar will give away. This sounds straightforward enough. Hrothgar will respect his thanes' and followers' claims to land and not give the people themselves away. But in what way would he be giving them away otherwise? As slaves? As sacrifices? As soldiers?

It doesn't seem likely that it's the third of these, since soldiers would make up a healthy portion of Hrothgar's followers as is.

The second is definitely possible, since we do later get references to rituals that the Danes try to rid themselves of Grendel. But it's not likely that these involve human sacrifice, since the poet only mentions that the Danes called on demons (since, as at least a Christian poet, anything other than Christ (and the other members of the trinity) standing as god would be blasphemy) to save them. There's never any real mention of ritualistic murder or the like, either.

So it seems most likely that he's referring to treating his people like slaves. To selling them off as if they were just property - another golden cup or war outfitted horse. Actually, that's a good way to categorize the things that Hrothgar will not be doling out to his followers: things that are not made by human hands.

Land is clearly something not made by human hands, especially since Beowulf portrays the land as a source of threats to civilization.

Grendel and Grendel's Mother threaten Hrothgar's little utopia, and the dragon threatens the Geats under Beowulf. Grendel and Grendel's Mother come from the heath, and even more specifically a strange lake that opens into an underground cave. Later, the dragon comes from an ancient cave near the cliffs of a coast. Both are places that are distinctly other, and thus not at all connected to human creation.

It's fair to say that people are held as sacred in Beowulf. Yes, parts of the poem seem like they're just about a bunch of guys bashing another bunch of guys over the head with pointy sticks, but even in those instances, there's something all to human at stake: honour, glory, safety for one or the other side's leader's family/group. Nonetheless, there is value to human life as something more than a possession in this poem, though it may seem to fluctuate more than our modern valuing of the same.

Back To Top
Closing

Next week, we see Heorot being built, named, and lurked about by Grendel.

Feel free to comment on today's entry below and to subscribe to this blog to keep yourself up to date.

Back To Top

Gilding the greats (ll.43-52) [Old English]

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Homeward bound Scyld?
Imposing a word and why
Closing


Back To Top
Abstract

Scyld is sent off with his boat of treasure as his living comrades are plagued by heavy hearts.

Back To Top
Translation

"By no means did they leave a lack of gifts,
treasures of the people, when that was done,
when they sent him forth to his origin,
for he was one who came over the waves as a child.
Then they established a golden sign for him
high overhead, they let the waves bear him,
their gift to the raging ocean; they were
sorrowful at heart, mourning souls. Men cannot
say for certain, hall rulers,
heroes under heaven, who that horde discovered."
(Beowulf ll.43-52)

Back To Top
Recordings

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

Back To Top
Homeward bound Scyld?

Initially, it's tempting to say that the first sentence of this excerpt is very familiar. Not in that everyone sends their dead out to sea laden with treasure, but in that 'going to see your maker' is a fairly popular euphemism for death. However, as the sentence ends we get an extra layer is added to Scyld's story.

Like so many other "chosen heroes" (or figures like them), it's revealed that Scyld's origins are shrouded in mystery. On one hand this is definitely a trope, but considering the patriarchal society in which Beowulf was composed/sung, it's also a curious quality in a great leader.

If there's one thing that's important in Anglo-Saxon society it's a person's connection to their lineage and heritage. Later in the poem, when Beowulf appears before Hrothgar, there's no question that Hrothgar's helping Beowulf's father in the past goes far in getting Hrothgar to feel secure in entrusting Heorot to the travelling Geat. Scyld's lack of any connection, since he's an orphan from across the sea, makes his rise to power all the more impressive.

Though, it's not out outlandish to guess that having no earthly origin might have as much clout as regal or warrior origins would. After all, a leader's story and reputation could be as powerful as any army - having such mysterious origins could only bolster such power. So long as they were properly maintained.

Back To Top
Imposing a word and why

Though there's no connection between the hoard sent out with Scylde and that of the dragon later in the poem, I've chosen to suggest one. This centers around the word "hlæste" (l.52).

Commonly, this word means "burden," "load," or "freight," but I went with "hoard." It's true that the treasure is the boat's freight, with the implication that Scyld is as much a treasure as the glittering armour or piled gold, but "hoard" doesn't subtract from this implication. Thus, it's a variant translation, but still a valid one.

For, using "hoard" associates Scyld with the treasure that has been sent off in the same way as the more common translations of "hlæste." It's possible that Anglo-Saxons might regard "hoard" as more negative in its connotations, though. Hoarding treasure means that it isn't shared, and unshared treasure is more often than not the undoing of a ruler.

Actually, this raises a curious point. In the person of Scyld literal treasure and a valued figure are joined into one thing; both of them become regarded as treasure. Then, later in the poem, we get the stories of Heremod (who hoarded his treasure, much to the dissatisfaction of his thanes), and of Modthryth (who hoarded her beauty to herself, and punished men simply for looking at her). So, after a great person has been gilded we then see examples of the extreme opposites - a man who refuses to share his treasure in an expected way and a woman who refuses to share her person in an expected way (as skeezy as that might sound).

This establishing of the true value of a great man and then its deconstruction makes for a grand set up for the end of the poem. After all, the tension between valued figures and valued things is resolved in Beowulf's death and funeral.

Like Scyld he is buried with a great deal of treasure, and like Scyld he is a greatly valued figure among his people. The major difference - Beowulf's being buried rather than set off to sea - does two things. It gives closure for the poem, but it's a much more definitive kind of closure since Beowulf returns to the dust of his home rather than mere dust in general.

Back To Top
Closing

Next week, the focus returns to Beow, and we hear the first mention of Hrothgar.

Subscribe to this blog's feed to be notified of updates as they happen!

Back To Top