Showing posts with label comitatus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label comitatus. Show all posts

Thursday, March 28, 2013

Quest-lust (ll.3076-3086) [Old English]

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Quest-lust and Wyrd
The Repercussions of a Lost Act
Closing

Back To Top
Abstract

Wiglaf speaks to the assembled Geats, recounting Beowulf's unquenchable fervour for striking out against the dragon.

Back To Top
Translation

"Wiglaf spoke, Weohstan's son:
'Oft it happens that one warrior's wish makes
the many endure misery, just so it has happened with us.
We could not persuade that dear prince,
this guardian of the people would not accept any counsel,
to not attack the gold guardian then,
to let him lay where he long was,
in that dwelling place remain until the world's end,
to keep his exalted destiny. The hoard is
bitterly won; it was fate that impelled
that king of a people to that hard place.'"
(Beowulf ll.3076-3086)

Back To Top
Recordings

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

Back To Top
Quest-lust and Wyrd

It sounds like Geatish kings could be total jerks. Or, at the least, self-centred power trippers.

Whatever the case, Wiglaf's words are a grand reminder that the system of the comitatus is hardly an equal thing. Based on his opening here, it seems that from time to time one warrior would become obsessed with some impossible goal, and cause the rest of the group to suffer through it. What Wiglaf leaves unsaid though, is whether or not these impossible quests would cost the whole group their lives or only the warrior who proposed them.

In either case, this periodic obsession becomes a curious way that wyrd comes into people's lives, welling up from within like some sort of fatal disease. However, at least in the case of Beowulf, fate or wyrd's presence in the mad desire felt by warriors is able to be read out of the experience. Fate is at the least recognizable in hindsight.

Though, maybe, just maybe, the obsessed warrior was one way in which people thought fate could be seen, they were an expected anomaly that gave the game away, so to speak. That fate could be seen in such a way suggests that preparations could be made for the inevitable, but it needs to be wondered if they were.

Would such preparations tip off fate that its path was known and force it to change?

Or could planning for that inevitability merely be considered as fated as the warrior's tragic heroic effort?

It seems that no matter how it was construed, this madness could spell the end for whole peoples if the wrong fighter was infected. If, of course, it was a people's leader who came down with it.

Back To Top
The Repercussions of a Lost Act

Though, going back a ways in the poem, it needs to be wondered if Beowulf's fervour for fighting the dragon was less random than some disease can seem.

Beowulf mentions his dark thoughts during the time when the dragon first attacks, how he wonders if he did something wrong in his past and is now paying for it.

So,fate or not, there may also have been some prior causation in Beowulf's obsession with the dragon. Perhaps, since his obsession is enough to destroy the dragon's "exalted destiny" ("wicum wunian" l.3084), that earlier causation gave Beowulf the momentum to change destiny. That's definitely something to create a 3000+ line poem about.

Back To Top
Closing

Wiglaf's speech to the assembled Geats continues next week, as he speaks of his time in the hoard and Beowulf's final wish.

Back To Top

Thursday, October 25, 2012

Wiglaf looks back in Anger [ll.2864-2876] (Old English)

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Venting Frustrations
Invocations as Self-Summonings
Closing

{What Wiglaf may've looked like, with sword drawn and shield ready - here, as in his speech, his own spirit is his armour. Image found on The Wall Machine.}


Back To Top
Abstract

Wiglaf lays into the thanes, but calms when he speaks more specifically of Beowulf.

Back To Top
Translation

"'Lo! That it may be said, by he who will speak truth,
that the liege lord, he who gave you that treasure,
that military gear, that you there stand in,
when he at ale-bench oft gave
to sitters in the hall helms and byrnies,
the prince over his retainers, the strongest that he could
find either far or near, all that he may
as well have furiously tossed away, that war gear
that he from battle won.
Not at all did that folk-king have cause to boast
of comrades in arms; yet god allowed him, the
victorious ruler, so that he himself could drive forward
with his sword alone, when he had need for courage.'"
(Beowulf ll.2864-2876)

Back To Top
Recordings

Old English:



Modern English:



Back To Top
Venting Frustrations

The first thing that you most likely noted when reading this week's translation is that the first sentence is both long and syntactically awkward.

In an effort to keep the dialogue as accurate as possible, I tried to keep this opening in the same order in which it appeared in my version of the original text. What this opening sentence boils down to is the idea that Beowulf wasted his generous gifts on the thanes that ran away.

But the way in which Wiglaf expresses this, with a series of subordinate clauses, underscores his anger. However, it's not necessarily that he's shouting these lines, he could just as easily be letting the words slide from between clenched teeth as he stands over Beowulf's body.

Using such a tangle of words makes Wiglaf's anger clear not only in that it gives his words the sense that they're tumbling out in a torrent of emotion, but also because it's a way to verbally represent the clashing emotions that Wiglaf feels in the moment. After all, he currently stands close to the dear lord he has just lost while those whom he considers little better than social leeches are crowding near.

Since the following sentences see Wiglaf delve more into Beowulf and move away from directly addressing the thanes, they become much clearer.

Back To Top
Invocations as Self-Summonings

Nonetheless, his rage is not lost as Wiglaf moves on to talk of Beowulf. Although we have nothing more than words on a page to run with, it's not difficult to imagine any scop worth his salt giving a slightly sarcastic ring to "Not at all did that folk-king have cause/To boast of comrades in arms" ("Nealles folccyning fyrdgesteallum/gylpan þorfte" ll.2873-74). And, just as with anyone speaking from the heart, or while in a passion, Wiglaf says some curious things in this last sentence of this week's excerpt.

The reference to god may seem old hat by now, but what's curious about it is the immediate shift from it to what Beowulf could pull from himself because of his recourse to god.

On the one hand Wiglaf is saying, god helped him when you guys didn't, but on the other he's also saying that god helped him to see what he had all along and to use it when he found himself in his great need.

Although as faint as sections of the Noel codex itself (the manuscript in which Beowulf was found), there's a slight mysticism that can be found in these words of Wiglaf's, as he seems to be expressing the idea that a person's true self can be found only in god and that this true self can help them to accomplish supernatural deeds.

In turn Wiglaf's implication suggests that the thanes are not just cowards, but also ungodly - a curious thing of which to accuse warriors, but it must be remembered that if nothing else, Beowulf always made reference to god in his stories of his own feats, and though the only feat of Wiglaf's that we know of is his helping with the dragon, it seems that he is now doing the same.

However, as we'll see next week, Wiglaf's emphasis on himself may foreshadow more than his valiant leadership of the Geats.

Back To Top
Closing

Tomorrow, at A Glass Darkly be sure to read all about the good and the bad in the b-horror movie The Convent as the fourth and final part of my Shocktober set of movie reviews!

Back To Top

Thursday, June 7, 2012

The Second Half of Wiglaf's Speech to the Thanes: Rhetoric [ll.2646b-2660] (Old English)

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Anglo-Saxon Understatement
On Fate and Rhetoric
Closing

{The sort of sheild that Wiglaf brings to the fight - hopefully his sword proves sturdier! Image from the blog Beowulfian, hosted by wikimedia.org.}



Back to Top
Abstract

Wiglaf completes his speech, and in doing so presents himself as the shining example that the other thanes should follow.

Back to Top
Translation

Now is the day come
that our liege lord strength needs
good warriors. Let us go to,
to help the leader in battle while it is possible,
against the fierce terror from fire. God knows
that it is much dearer to me that my body
be with my gold-giving lord while fire should enfold him.
Nor does it seem to me fitting that we shields
bear back to home unless we first may
the foe kill, by life defend
the Weder’s prince. I know well
that it is not merited by past deeds, that he alone must
without the Geatish host affliction suffer,
fall at the battle; both of us shall sword and helm,
mail coat and battle garment together share.”
(Beowulf ll.2646b-2660)

Back to Top
Recordings

Old English:



Modern English:



Back to Top
Anglo-Saxon Understatement

Wiglaf really gives it to his fellow thanes in this part of his speech. How can you tell such a thing? Because he uses token Anglo-Saxon sense of understatement. Not very liberally, but in such a way that it remains obvious even to this day.

So, we hear Wiglaf start a sentence with “God knows,” (“God wāt" (l.2650)), and it’s quite clear that he’s either being incredibly genuine or relying on a higher power to embolden himself. The understatement comes next when he moves from citing god to state that it wouldn’t be fitting to go home as warriors if they didn’t even fight.

The understatement in this sentence is clear from Wiglaf’s beginning it with “nor” (“ne”(l.2653)). This negative start undercuts his own position (“...seem to me..." ( “...þynceð me..."(l.2653))) and puts it squarely in contrast with his previous reference to god. And so the young warrior cunningly sets himself up for a verbal finger wagging as he calls his fellow warriors on even thinking about calling themselves warriors without even fighting the dragon.

Back to Top
On Fate and Rhetoric

Wiglaf’s statement “I know well/that it is not merited by past deeds” (“Ic wāt geare,/þæt nǣron eald-gewyrht”(ll.2656-2657)) that Beowulf should suffer alone sets human knowledge and the unknowable power of fate at an incredible contrast.

Earlier in the poem we’ve been told that fate has left Beowulf’s side (ll.2574-2575), that it is indeed his fate to die, but Wiglaf, because of his dedication to kin, is not deterred by this, however obvious it might be given the state of the fight.

As the one who is set up to succeed Beowulf as king of the Geats, it seems that Wiglaf has an uncanny way of seeing how to make the best of fate, since he does indirectly acknowledge the fact that Beowulf is doomed while at the same time he calls for all the Geats to rally around him so that Beowulf will not be alone when he falls. It’s a nice emphasis of the importance of community to Anglo-Saxon life and culture.

However, where all of Wiglaf’s rhetoric falls flat is in his final sentence. Old English pronouns included some that were just for two people, but the one used here, “bām,” is definitely of the dual sense. So, just as Wiglaf is acutely aware of the fact that Beowulf should be attended because of his great stature as a warrior, it also seems that by the speech’s end he’s acutely aware of the fact that he is the only one about to rush off to help.

Back to Top
Closing

Next week, St. Isidore starts to wrap up coverage of horses, and concludes the overview of the last two characteristics of a great horse. In Beowulf, Wiglaf rushes to Beowulf and says some more words before we’re all reminded that the dragon’s still about.

Back to Top

Thursday, March 15, 2012

Credits in a Comitatus and Boasts Filled with Wonder Words [ll.2484-2495] (Old English)


The Translation
Ongentheow's Killer and the Comitatus
"heoro-blāc"
"ēðel-wynn"
"Gifðum"
Wrap-up

{a younger Beowulf, perhaps, flashing his gams and doing some boasting. From "Gayle's Bard Blog."}


The Translation

We return to Beowulf now, as he rounds out his history lesson and starts to verbally fist pump. Let's listen in:

"Then in the morning I heard that his kin
avenged him by the blade, plunged its edge to end
the slayer's life where Eofor's attack fell upon Ongenþēow;
his war-helm split, the Swedish warlord
fell sword-wan; his hand held memory enough
of feuding, he could not hold off that fatal blow.

"The treasure, which Hygelac gave to me,
I won for him by flashing sword; he gave to me land,
a native place, land joy. For him there was no need,
no reason to be required to seek some worse warrior
from the gifthouse or the spear-danes or the swedes,
my worth was well known."
(Beowulf ll.2484-2495)

Some interesting stuff is going on in this passage.

Back To Top
Ongentheow's Killer and the Comitatus

First, there's the question of who killed Ongenþēow. The text suggests that it was Hygelac who killed him "by the sword's edge" ("billes ecgum" l.2485), but it also mentions an Eofor who is credited with splitting his helmet ("thǣr Ongenþēow Eofores nīosað;/gūð-helm tōglād" ll.2486-7). So who's the real hero, Beowulf?

To a modern reader this double crediting of Ongenþēow's kill (something that might lead to another killing if it happened in a MMORPG), might seem confused. But, to an Anglo-Saxon sensibility, it makes perfect sense.

Consider for a minute the fact that Hygelac is, at the point when Ongenþēow's killed, the leader of the Geat forces against the Swedes at this battle since Hæðcyn has been killed. Thus, Eofor is fighting as Hygelac's thane - Eofor is part of Hygelac's group.

In Anglo-Saxon terms, such a group could be called a "comitatus," a band of warriors held together by mutual quid pro quo. If a warrior pledges his life and sword to a lord, he fights until his death - even if that lord should die before he does. In return, the lord provides the warrior with treasure and land.

"The Battle of Maldon" is a perfect example of the comitatus style of loyalty because it tells of a band of warriors that fights on after their lord dies, even though they all know that they are doomed to die.

What's happening in Beowulf, then, is that Hygelac is being credited with Eofor's kill because Hygelac is the head of the Geats, of the Geatish comitatus, and likewise, all of the warriors within Hygelac's comitatus are his swords. So it's fair to say that Hygelac had his vengeance on Ongenþeow by the edge of the sword, in the sense that he was killed by one of Hygelac's men.

At the level of words within the passage, there are indeed a few that are quite curious.

Back To Top
"heoro-blāc"

The word "heoro-blāc", meaning "mortal wound" is unique among these curious words since it is a somewhat mysterious combination of "heoru" meaning "sword" and "blāc" meaning "pallid, pale, wan." So, literally, someone who is "heoro-blāc" is "sword-pale."

Unfortunately, the literal translation doesn't work quite so well, since "sword-pale" suggests that something is as pale as a sword. Depending on what it's made of, a corpse might get to a similar pallor as a clean, shiny sword, but it's a rather fantastical comparison.

"Mortal wound" is a little on the nose, though, so "sword-wan" is what was used above. The term is used in the senses that Ongenþēow is weakened by the sword, and about as strong as a sword without a wielder. He is mighty, yet useless, as he lay where Eofor split his helmet.

Moving into Beowulf's boast about his own accomplishments yields more tricky and wondrous words.

Back To Top
"ēðel-wynn"

First up there's "ēðel-wynn" meaning "joy of ownership," but made up of "ēðel" (native land, country, home) and "wynn" (joy). So translating the term as "joy of ownership" does work, in that there will be a joy in a native owning their own land, but at the same time "joy of ownership" falls short by generalizing the original word too much.

Nonetheless, what's telling about the translation is that it completely ignores the fact that "ēðel-wynn" contains a specific reference to land ("ēðel"). There might not be an exact and precise equivalent term in English, but by cutting out any reference to land, it seems like that there's a desire to deny a sense of landed-ness in Anglo-Saxon at play.

But that's just not true.

The fact that a compound word with "ēðel" is used here is important because it shows that whenever Beowulf was written (or maybe even when it was still being sung) land ownership was a big deal to Anglo-Saxons. This means that they might have had a sense of nationhood as we do today, since it wasn't something nebulous or abstract.

Words like "ēðel-wynn" allow you to make a case that there was a sense among Anglo-Saxons that a place defined a people and that if a certain people was given a certain space then that people would be joyous. So, it seems that Seamus Heaney's translation of the word as "the security that land brings" is better, though still wanting for the implied sense of nationhood.

Back To Top
"Gifðum"

The other word is "Gifðum," which is not in the Clark Hall & Meritt Anglo-Saxon Dictionary. However, Seamus Heaney translates it as "gift house."

Heaney's translation might just be in a newer dictionary, or it could be derived from the idea that "Gifðum" is a corruption of "giefu-hus." A stretch, maybe, but the poem Beowulf isn't beyond having a few textual ticks here and there.

For example, in the original Anglo-Saxon, there's a consistent difference in spelling between the first and second halves of the poem, suggesting that there were two scribes involved in making the copy of the poem that we still have today.

Of course, textual ticks or no, that still leaves the nature of "Gifðum" a mystery.

Back To Top
Wrap-up

If you've got your own theory about what "Gifðum" could mean, I want to know, just leave it in a comment for me.

Next week, St. Isidore talks of the goat, we get some more medieval lore, and Beowulf starts into more boasting. Don't miss it!
Back To Top