On Wiglaf’s Weapons (Pt.1) [ll.2606-2619] (Old English)

Posted on 2012/05/18 by NSCZach

{What Weohstan may as well have done in returning Eanmunde’s armor to his kin. Image from the National Library of the Netherlands Medieval Illuminated Manuscripts Collection.}

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Wound Around Vague Pronouns
No Fuel for a Feud?
Closing

Wiglaf remembers all the things that Beowulf has done for him. While Wiglaf wanders the corridors of memory, the narrator tells us the origin of the young warrior’s equipment.

“Then he remembered that property which Beowulf had
earlier given, the rich dwelling place of the
Waegmundings, how he granted each the common rights,
as his father possessed. Then he could not restrain
himself, he grasped his shield in hand, a yellow shield;
the ancient sword he drew, that was, according to men,
Eanmunde’s heirloom, son of Ohthere. It came to Weohstan
while he was exiled, friendless, the slayer by blade’s
edge of Ohthere’s son, yet he still bore to his kinsman
the spoils of a shiny helm, a ringed mail shirt,
the ancient sword of giant’s craft. Onela gave
them to him, his kinsman’s war garments,
the war-ready garb; no feud was there to speak of,
though Weohstan had slain Onela’s nephew.”
(Beowulf ll.2606-2619)

Old English:

Modern English:

Although it’s mostly been cleared up, this passage is lousy with vague pronouns.

Lines 2606, 2614, and 2619 originally contain no proper names. Even so, it might seem that there are a few too many pronouns in this section of the poem, possibly because of the intense weaving that the poet/scribe is attempting. In fact, this use of vague pronouns could be a way of verbally showing how the characters involved in this digression are connected to each other.

Actually, if ever a case was to be made that Beowulf really is the product of a long oral tradition finally being written down by someone, this passage should be used as a prime piece of evidence.

Medieval writing is littered with abbreviations, but it’s usually not skimpy on clear pronouns – even if it’s common for some Old English to have been written with the remnants of grammatical gender in effect, meaning that inanimate objects are referred to as “he” and “she” rather than “it.”

Matters of poetry and writing aside, this section presents a curious case.

In Anglo-Saxon culture, the feud was the central means to conflict resolution before there was any kind of central authority figure (ie: a king). Since the events of Beowulf happened before there were really tightly controlled kingdoms (think Charlemagne’s or Alfred the Great’s) feuds were still common and are often at the middle of ballads and poems and stories from the early medieval era (c.400 – c.1066).

So what happened with Weohstan and Eanmunde’s family? Why is it that Weohstan doesn’t get an axe lodged in his skull when he returns Eanmunde’s sword, helmet, and chainmail to his uncle?

Is it possible that Eanmunde’s family took pity on Weohstan because he was an exile? That is, could there have been some sense that a feud against a man without a country is pointless and therefore not worth taking up? Or, is it possible that the act of returning the arms to his family erases any kind of bad blood between that family and Weohstan?

We’re only told that Weohstan kills Eanmunde “at battle” (“æt sæcce” l.2612). Since he is also in exile at the time (“wræccan wine-lēasum” l.2613), maybe Weohstan is fighting as a mercenary and therefore as someone without connections. Or, maybe he and Eanmunde just fought in single combat; they met up while Weohstan wandered, fought, and Eanmunde was killed.

Given what’s present in this part of the poem, it seems that they must have met on the battle field. The strongest piece of evidence for this is the echo of Beowulf’s asking Hrothgar to send his armor back to Hygelac if he gets eaten by Grendel (ll.450-55) in Weohstan’s returning Eanmunde’s equipment to his kin.

Further, Eanmunde’s father (Ohthere) and uncle (Onela) both being referred to must mean that this family was quite famed. So, maybe, as one currently in exile, Weohstan’s beating Eanmunde was viewed by his family not as something that couldn’t be properly repaid with a feud. Why? Perhaps feuding against just one man for the murder of someone from a family of people who are famous or worth many men could make the family appear petty.

Such an appearance might make them seem overly wrathful – something that might not be so bad in strictly Anglo-Saxon terms, but having already told stories of cruel Heremod (ll.1709-1722) and wicked Modthryth (ll.1931-1943), one of the poet/scribe’s purposes in telling/writing Beowulf must be to show that cruelty and wickedness are not good qualities. It’s not a stretch to add wrathfulness to that list of qualities frowned upon in the work.

Possibly, then, Eanmunde’s family’s not taking up a feud with Weohstan to wreak vengeance for their lost kinsman could be the result of that aim to teach.

This part of Beowulf definitely lays down some mysterious circumstances, but at the least it also shows that there’s more to Beowulf than a bunch of guys clubbing each other with pointy sticks.

Check back next week for Isidore’s take on various horses, and for part two of the history of Wiglaf’s equipment.

Why is the origin of his equipment so long in the telling? Well, in old oral traditions, you’ve got to build up to that sword with +3 attack and chain mail with +2 resistance to dragon’s fire.

While Beowulf Roasts, Wiglaf Breaks from the Host [ll.2593-2605] (Old English)

Posted on 2012/05/11 by NSCZach

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Heralding The Shift
Shiny Armor, but Shinier Lineage
What’s in a Name
Closing

{A fresh faced Wiglaf, as played by Brendan Gleeson. Image from aveleyman.com.}

Things aren’t looking good for Beowulf, but though his men are fled, one has a change of heart that may see the dragon bled.

“The hoard guard in himself took heart – his
breast by breathing heaved – he came out once again;
harsh straits were suffered, he was enveloped by fire,
he who had once ruled the people. Not any of the band
of comrades were with him then, the sons of nobility
stood about in martial virtues, but they fled into
the woods, their lives to save. Of them sorrow surged
in just one mind; he who thinks rightly may
never for anything turn away from kinship.
Wiglaf was his name, son of Weoxstan,
a beloved warrior, man of the Scylfings,
kinsmen of Aelfere; he saw his liege lord
under the battle mask suffering in the heat.”
Beowulf ll.2593-2605

Old English:

English:

Beowulf’s getting roasted by the fire in this passage, and the dragon seems almost assuredly guaranteed a nice and toasty roasted Geat for a snack. No doubt he has a very old and fine wine somewhere in his hoard to go with just such a meal, but thanks to a change of heart, one of Beowulf’s thanes is ready to help out his liege lord – and become the poem’s primary perspective character.

Curiously, though, the action is halted for a quick description of our new hero. Though instead of going over his bulging biceps and shiny armor (that gets the narrative treatment in a few lines’ time), we’re treated to his pedigree.

Obviously this kind of description is set up by the preceding bit of gnomic wisdom: “he who thinks rightly may never for anything turn away from kinship” (“sibb ǣfre ne mæg/wiht onwendan þām ðe wēl þenceð” ll.2600-2601). However, what makes pedigree so important here?

The best guess is that it falls in with an older way of thinking about the world. One that involves things like phrenology and eugenics, not all pretty stuff, but essentially the idea held here could be that because Wiglaf comes from good breeding he is one who “thinks rightly” (“wēl þenceð” l.2600). If such is the case, then this passage would set any listener or reader to this tale from hundreds of years ago to the expectation that this Wiglaf is going to solve everything, or at least be of assistance.

However, if Wiglaf is the only one who has his head on properly amongst the elite guard that Beowulf brought with him on his expedition, it also bodes ill for the Geats in general. For if only one of twelve trained warriors has the decency to disobey orders and help his liege lord in his hour of need despite being told otherwise, then such pedigrees as Wiglaf’s must be few and far between.

As a means of foreshadowing the waning power and prowess of the Geats between generations, and the implication that kin, when properly thinking, will help out kin, suggests that either terms like “Geat” are much broader than you might suspect, or that there’s a problem with breeding among the Geats.

Maybe something wicked has been happening in the beds and around the camps when the fires are out – Beowulf’s own marital and sexual situations are not mentioned. It’s possible that the woman who weeps so bitterly by his grave (who could be Hygelac’s queen, Hygd; ll.3150-3155) is Beowulf’s wife, but the latter situation is left un-noted, likely because of the contemporary sense of decorum.

A brief note on the name of the new perspective character in the poem is rather telling. It’s also much easier to look into the meaning of Wiglaf’s name than Beowulf’s name, since it’s a much more obvious compound word.

“Wīg” is Old English for “war,” “strife,” or “battle,” and “lāf” is Old English for “leaving,” or “heirloom.” Thus, Wiglaf is named for some kind of battle memento – maybe this name is one that the poet/scribe came up with after having conceived of the pedigree of Wiglaf’s arms. For his armor and his sword are all described as the spoils of a combat fought by Weohstan (ll.2610-2625).

However, if Wiglaf’s name is taken as a kenning, it could be interpreted in a different way.

If we take “wīglāf” as a kenning, then perhaps it refers to one who is the product of a broken marriage, or of a couple made of partners from rival or feuding families. In that way he’s much more literally an heirloom of some kind of strife, since perhaps he’s the child of rape or of some kind of passionate affair between star-crossed lovers who never after saw each other.

Of course, being an Anglo-Saxon poem, none of that is explicitly explained.

Next week Isidore gets into the matter of the cud and of donkeys; and in Beowulf, Wiglaf can’t hold back, just as the poet bursts into a (brief) digression.

Beowulf’s Battle Flame…Fading? [ll.2580b-2592] (Old English)

Posted on 2012/05/04 by NSCZach

Introduction
Translation
Recordings
With a Sword and a Will
Foreshadowing a Shift in Perspective
Closing

{Inaccuracies aside, a depiction of The Battle of Maldon, a poem concerning another failing battle–could the *Beowulf* poet/scribe be alluding to this battle in this section of the epic? Image from A Cunning Plan.}

This week, in Beowulf, our hero reaps the results of last week’s blow against the dragon. Sadly they aren’t quite what he had hoped for.

Then was the barrow guard
after that battle stroke feeling fierce at heart;
casted about deadly fire; wildly leapt
those battle lights. Of glorious victory the gold-giving
friend of the Geats could not boast then; the
war sword failed unsheathed at the battle, as it
should not have, iron formerly excellent. That was
no easy journey, when the renowned kin of Ecgtheow
wanted to give up that ground;
should against his will inhabit a dwelling place
elsewhere, so shall each man
leave off his loaned days. Then not long was it
before the fierce warriors met each other again.
(Beowulf ll.2580b-2592)

Old English:

Modern English:

So, the fight with the dragon sounds like it’s going south rather quickly.

An obvious connection to make in the passage is between Beowulf’s will and his failing sword. The fact that it failed him and as a result he must give ground when before he’d never have done so gives strong ground to relate the two.

What’s curious about the connection between Beowulf’s will and his sword though is, if you take the sword as an external marker of his will, it is that external marker which needs to flag before his internal one wanes.

Now, does he become discouraged at the failure of his sword because that’s the method that he’s set for himself? Does he fail some sort of self-appointed test because he can’t kill the dragon with the sword? This is a troubling point, but with what’s come before – namely Beowulf’s telling his thanes to leave this fight to him – it sounds as if it is indeed a self-appointed test. So what’s it mean that he’s failed it?

The poet/scribe’s reflection on the idea of the loan of days being up suggests that Beowulf has faced the fact that he is going to die and that his feeling heavy-hearted earlier is indeed something palpable.

What makes Beowulf’s realization absolutely clear is the fact that instead of getting a line about the two combatants meeting again we get the neutral “Then not long was it/before the fierce warriors met each other again” ((2591-2592)).

What this line suggests is that Beowulf, though still very much the center of the story, is no longer the focus of the story as far as perspective is concerned. The poet/scribe has never really written from Beowulf’s perspective ala George R.R. Martin in his A Song of Ice and Fire series, but instead used a kind of third person (or top-down, in video game terms) limited perspective throughout. However, from this point onward another character comes to the fore, one revealed over the coming weeks.

And, as one branch may support another, so too does this new entrant into the poet/scribe’s limited third person perspective hoist up Beowulf’s actions and deeds over the next 500+ lines of the poem before, as it began, it ends with the poet/scribe narrator firmly in control.

Next week check back for Isidore’s take on other kinds of buffalo, camel, and cud. And, on Thursday there’ll come a shift in focus in the Old English epic from Beowulf to his thanes.

When Fate Fled Beowulf: The Beginnings of ‘One of Those Days’ [ll.2566-2580a] (Old English)

Posted on 2012/04/27 by NSCZach

{Beowulf’s shield protects him for a time, but not for long enough! Image from shmoop.com.}

Introduction
Translation
Recordings
This Section’s Structure
Fate and the Scop’s Story
Closing

Introduction

Beowulf launches his first attack against the dragon this week:

“He stood firmly against the towering shield
the lord of the dear people, when the serpent
coiled himself quickly together; he waited in arms.
Then it went gliding along coiled and burning,
hastening to his fate. The shield well protected
being and body of the renowned prince
for a lesser time than his purpose required,
it seemed that he for the first time that day
would have to prevail, though fate had not decreed for him
triumph in battle. The lord of the Geats swung up
his hand, the terrible one in its varied colors
was struck by the mighty heirloom, yet the edge failed
gleaming on the bone, bit less strongly
when the king of a people had need of it,
oppressed by afflictions.”
(Beowulf ll.2566-2580a, Ch.XXXV)

Old English:

Modern English:

The most interesting part of this section is its structure.

Why does the poet/scribe first say that fate ill-served Beowulf that day? Probably because In normal circumstances a wound that went to the bone would mean certain defeat. Unless the poet/scribe is presenting this work to people familiar with berserkers, who’d probably shrug that kind of cut off with a “’tis but a scratch!”

Placing the statement about Beowulf not having the favor of fate in this fight before noting that his strike cuts to the bone, makes it clear that such a wound is not what he was hoping for.

In fact, given the poor reception that his strike has, the fact that Beowulf’s sword “bit less strongly/when the king of a people had need of it,” (“bat unswiðor/þonne his ðiodcyning þearfe hæfde” (ll.2578-9)) it seems that he was aiming for one of the dragon’s vital organs, hoping to simply stick his sword up and cut the thing as it flew overhead.

What’s really remarkable about this tactic is that it’s incredibly similar to Sigurd‘s in the Völsunga Saga. In this version of his story he hides in a trench and basically sticks his sword up into the dragon’s belly as it slithers overhead, thus killing it.

Because the fight between Beowulf and the dragon is paralleled by the scop’s song about Sigemund and the dragon after Beowulf has defeated Grendel, it’s tempting to think that at this late part of Beowulf’s story, his fate is revealed in the Siegfried story.

In a way it is. Sigemund faces the dragon but defeats him alone. Mention is made of Fitela (Sinfjötli in the Völsunga Saga), but only to say that he isn’t present (Beowulf ll.889). Fitela’s parallel is present in Beowulf’s fight with the dragon as Wiglaf, whose parentage seems quite removed from Beowulf (unlike Fitela, who is the son by incest/nephew of Sigemund).

What differs between the two dragon stories, and where the parallel structure begins to break down, is that Beowulf does not live through the fight and the help of his companion is necessary. Perhaps that’s what happens when a mortal tries to go against fate. Or, maybe, we as listeners are meant to take the poet/scribe’s words as having a negative meaning: Fate didn’t decree triumph for Beowulf, it instead decreed defeat.

Next week check back here on Tuesday for Isidore of Seville’s continuing description of cattle and move into buffalo, and on Thursday for the dragon’s reaction to Beowulf’s attack and its dire consequences.

Beowulf & the Dragon: Little Appetite for Mutual Destruction [ll.2554-2565] (Old English)

Posted on 2012/04/20 by NSCZach

Introduction
Translation
Recordings
Shorter Sentences
Beowulf Attacks the Dragon, or Fends it Off?
Closing

{Benjamin Bagby knows well the power of shorter sentences. Image from Benjamin Bagby’s Beowulf}

Roused by Beowulf’s heavy metal scream at the end of last week’s passage, the dragon is angry this week. Yet neither of the two fighters are particularly pleased to be forced into battle:

“Hatred was aroused, the hoard guardian recognized
man speech; then there was no more time
to ask for friendship. First came the
breath of the fierce assailant from out of the stones,
a hot vapour of battle; the earth resounded.
The warrior below the barrow, the lord of the Geats
swung the rim of his shield against the dreadful stranger;
then was the coiled creature incited at heart
to seek battle. The good war-king
had already drawn his sword, the ancient heirloom,
sharp of edges; each was in horror from a mutual
intent upon destruction evident in the both of them.”
(Beowulf ll.2554-2565, Ch.XXXV)

Old English:

Modern English:

One constant in narratives from all ages is that action sequences are made up of shorter sentences. Although this passage doesn’t include any that are shorter than 19 words, the sentences here are, on average, quite a bit shorter than those in previous weeks. The shorter sentence length here makes it clear that the poet/scribe is moving into the thick of the action – things are happening now, and in real time.

In fact, it could even be argued that the shorter sentences here are the natural Old English mode of the reportage of action as it is happening. Whenever the poet describes things such as passages of time, or the interaction of characters, various details tend to be lingered upon, providing extra information that’s really ornamental rather than practical.

The action that’s currently taking place, however, takes on a different dimension when considered alongside the other major fights in the poem.

Unlike when Grendel comes to Beowulf or when Beowulf seeks out Grendel’s mother to continue their feud, Beowulf is pure interloper in regards to the dragon. In fact, had it not been for the thief that stole the cup, the dragon may never have left its barrow and may never have caused the Geats any distress.

So, in a sense, this is a new kind of fighting for Beowulf. Rather than being the avenging hero who is reacting to something that has happened to him or to his retainer, he is taking the initiative.

In his youth, Beowulf fought battles for others, now in his old age he fights them for himself. Perhaps this aspect of the fight is meant to reflect the simplicity in fighting for another, a person from whom you can sever yourself if it happens to be necessary to do so. On the other hand, fighting the battles made necessary to fight because of being a king are made out to be all the more difficult since you can no longer defer to some ring-lord or other but are ultimately answerable to yourself.

Perhaps Beowulf’s having a “sorrowful heart” (as noted in last week’s entry) is not just because of some direct feeling of his impending death, but the feeling that he has become the cause of the problem, and in order to defeat the problem, he also needs to destroy its cause: himself.

As will be seen in next week’s entry, that is indeed a valid reading of the fight.

Also on Saturday hear St. Isidore talk more of boar, and next Tuesday he’ll move onto bull and oxen.

Beowulf’s ‘Barbaric Yawp’ to Dragonkind [ll.2542-2553] (Old English)

Posted on 2012/04/13 by NSCZach

Translation
Recordings
Back to the “grey stone”
On Dragons and the Need for Weapons
Beowulf’s Persistent Youth
Closing

{Old Beowulf in a pose befitting his bellow. Image from Sandra Effinger’s “BEOWULF: Still a Hero” website.}

“Then by the wall, the man who had survived
with good manly virtue a great many battles,
the crash of combat, when the band on foot clashed,
saw standing a stone arch, a stream out from there
burst from the barrow; there it was a surging stream
of hot deadly fire; he could not be near the hoard
for any length of time without being burned up
could not survive in the depths of the dragon’s flame.
Then he allowed it from his breast, when he was enraged,
the lord of the Weder-Geats sent the word out,
fierce-hearted he shouted; his voice came in
clear as in battle as it roared under the grey stone.”
(Beowulf Ch. XXXV, ll.2542-2553)

Old English:

Modern English:

The first thing that jumps from this passage is the mention of “grey stone” (hārne stān) in line 2553. Where last week’s section seemed to nod to the story of Sigemund as it’s told earlier in Beowulf, this phrase is practically quoted from the story (“under hārne stān” appears in line 2553 and line 887).

This repetition is evidence of a kind of narrative inverse parabola within the poem, where events in the first part are mirrored by events in the third, with the descent into the mire (lines 1492-1631) being the “depths” of the poem as it were.

What’s most curious here though is that since the precedence is a celebratory story about a victorious dragon slayer, expectations seem to be running against Beowulf’s own disposition. His heart is heavy, and he’s ready for whatever fate has in store for him (“Him wæs geōmor sefa,/wǣfre ond wæl-fūs[;]” “He was of a sorrowful mind,/restless and ready for death” ll.2419-2420).

The previous presence of a dragon was in a story nested in a story (the scop’s song in celebration of Beowulf defeating Grendel, ll.884-915) whereas the dragon is now as ‘real’ as the story’s main character.

Maybe this confrontation between the ‘real’ and what was heretofore imagined is meant to show the way in which the real world twists things – even imagined things – about, but it’s hard to say with certainty just what the poet/scribe is up to here.

Something that any reading of these parallel events also needs to deal with is the fact that the story of Sigemund and the dragon is about a young man fighting a dragon, whereas Beowulf is by no means young any longer. Perhaps his boasts of his youthful exploits are meant to be invocations of his youthful strength, but they’re too tempered by an awareness of his own mortal reality. This awareness is made clear in his admission that if he knew another way to face the dragon he would do so unarmed.

So then, what does it mean for Beowulf, a warrior and king who relied on his natural body for glory so much in the past, to now need to add weapons to that body to win glory?

Is Beowulf cursed in an opposite sense to Grendel – where the monster can’t be harmed by metal, the hero can’t wield metal? The giant’s sword he uses to finish off Grendel’s Mother and Grendel himself could be an exception, but perhaps whatever enchantment it was under nullified his curse?

Given what’s present in the passage, it seems that Beowulf, at least in calling out the dragon, is still as wild as he was when he wrestled Grendel. He doesn’t unsheathe his sword and bang it against his shield or otherwise use what he’s wearing to call out the dragon, but instead shouts. And he shouts so that it “roared under the grey stone” (“hlynnan under hārne stān” l.2553).

The word “hlynnan” could be translated as “resounded” or “reverberated” instead of “roared,” but with what’s come before, and Beowulf’s feeling of unease (brought on, perhaps, because he knows he can’t fight the dragon with his bare hands, and that makes him incredibly nervous), the primal connotations of “roared” makes it seem the best fit.

Next Tuesday Isidore talks Bull, and the dragon rushes into the open where he and Beowulf stare each other down.

Beowulf’s is no "cowardly course of action!" [ll.2529-2541] (Old English)

Posted on 2012/04/06 by NSCZach

{The sort of shield Beowulf may’ve borne off with him. Image from the Lighthouse Journal}

Translation
Recording
Commentary Intro
Death and Glory
Echoes of Sigemund
Closing

At last in this week’s reading of Beowulf, the hero becomes a man of action once more. Since deeds speak louder than words, let’s check in with the poet/scribe’s own deeds, which, ironically, are words.

“‘Wait you on the barrow, my armed men,
warriors in war gear, while we see which of
we two can endure the wounds
after the deadly onslaught. This is not your fight,
nor any other man’s, but mine alone
to share my might with the foe,
indeed my courage. By that courage shall
I win the gold, or, in battle,
peril of a violent death, may your lord be taken away!’
Arose then behind the shield that renowned warrior,
hard under helm, bore his battle shirt beneath
the stony cliffs, trusted in the strength of one
man alone. That was no such cowardly course of action!”
(Beowulf ll.2529-2541)

Old English:

Modern English:

So here we have Beowulf announcing that this is his fight, and then heading off to the dragon’s den. Even the poet/scribe notes that he “trusted in the strength of a single man” (“strengo getruwode/ānes mannes” ll.2541-42). But what’s this all about?

If Beowulf knows that he is likely to die in this fight it could be argued that he wants to minimize the danger to his thanes by rushing into battle alone. However, that’s a bit of an anachronistic way of looking at the passage.

All puns pardoned, it’s more likely that Beowulf specifically orders his men to stay out of the fray so that he can go out in a blaze of glory. What better way to die than in battle, let alone battle with a dragon – the very embodiment of the greed that all good kings must eschew in order to be good kings.

The passage could also be analyzed as the poet/scribe taking a bit of a jab at a system where a mere man calls the shots in a society that runs on glory and heroic deeds, since it is the doing of such deeds that gets Beowulf killed and ultimately leads to the Geats’ being leaderless, and shortly after war-ravaged.

So, is this merely the vehicle to set up the main character for his triumphant death as hero and dragon slayer, or a Christian twist that’s supposed to undermine the old pagan Germanic way?

One thing can definitely be agreed on, there’s an echo of the story of Sigemund and Fafnir in the description of Beowulf’s approach to the barrow’s entrance. It’s only in the phrase “stony cliffs” (“stān-cleofu” l.2540), but the inclusion of “stān” makes this phrase too close to “grey stone” (“hārne-stān”) to be mere coincidence.

Unless dragons are somehow related to these sorts of rocky outcrops, it seems that the poet/scribe is trying to hint at some connection between the Sigemund story and this. Perhaps he is merely foreshadowing the victory (and the curse that comes with it), or trying to suggest that such old stories have no basis in reality. After all, this is Beowulf whose moving under these rocks to kill a dragon, not some distant mythological figure like Sigemund.

Nonetheless, for a passage that’s full of bravado these lines provide a lot more than mere introspection on the part of Beowulf. It really speaks to his own desire to show himself that he’s still as good as he was when he was young.

As the hero of the story he has internalized the very ethos of the Germanic pagan heroic tradition, and it is that which will ultimately cause his downfall. He feels that he is going to die, he’s got that heavy heart, and he constantly talks of how fate is the only one who can decide which of the two will live or die. But yet he still goes on, and his final words to his men suggest a tone of “don’t bother me, I need to show you (and myself) that I can still do this.”

Beowulf needs to validate himself within the system that he has so successfully internalized, first as the celebrated slayer of Grendel and Grendel’s Mother, then as king of the Geats, and then finally (and hopefully, in his current frame of mind), as the slayer of the dragon. But only time will tell.

Come back next week for Isidore’s brief take on rabbits and longer musing on pigs, and for Beowulf’s final approach to the dragon.

All About Beowulf’s Final "Boast-Words" [ll.2510-2528] (Old English)

Posted on 2012/03/29 by NSCZach

Translation
Recordings
Initial Thoughts
Why so Compounded?
Three Possibilities
Closing

{What Beowulf imagines his fight with the dragon will look like – war-fire, breath, venom, shield, and all. Image from eKits.}

This week’s section of Beowulf sees him boast for the last time, before turning and addressing his thanes. Let’s listen in:

“Beowulf spoke, gave form to boast-words
for the final time: ‘In youth I
risked much in combat; yet I will once more
though an old king of the people, pursue the feud,
gain glory, if only the fiend to men
will come out from his earth-hall to face me!’
Addressed he then each warrior,
each helm-wearer for truly the final time,
each dear companion: ‘I would not bear a sword,
bring the weapon to the worm, if I knew how
I might otherwise gloriously grapple against
that foe, as I once with Grendel did;
but there will be hot war-fires, I expect,
breath and venom; thus I have on
both shield and byrnie. Nor will I give a foot’s length
when I meet the barrow’s guard, but between us two
what is to happen later on this sea wall, that is as fate,
measurer of men, is drawn to decide. I am firm of heart,
so that I may cease from boasting over this war-flyer.'”
(Beowulf ll.2510-2528)

And in Modern English:

This passage, for all of its high boast density, is quite straightforward. Beowulf says that he will fight the dragon as long as he comes out of the barrow, and then turns to his men to tell them why he’s carrying a shield and wearing armor. Then, he closes it all off by saying that he is “firm of heart,/so that I may desist from boasting over this war-flyer” (“Ic eom on mōde from/þæt ic wið þone guð-flogan gylp ofersitte” ll.2527-8)

That’s it.

There’s definitely something to say for its directness. This quality might even be the result of Beowulf’s melancholic belief that this will be his last fight, and the poet’s own admission of the same. But, as always, there is one curious thing to poke at – like a sleeping dragon coiled around a heap of gold.

This passage uses a fair number of compound nouns: “Bēot-wordum” for “boast-words;” “mān-sceaða,” for “fiend to men;” “eorð-sele” for “earth-hall;” “helm-berende;” for “helm-wearers;” “heaðu-fyres,” for “war-fires;” “guð-floga” for “war-flyer.”

All of these compound words share two characteristics. They’re all related to war, and they’re all direct , straightforward terms. Though it might be contentious, none of them are the fancier type of compound words known as kennings (like “līchama” for “body” (literally “body-raiment”) or “heofon-candel” for “sun” (literally “sky-candle”).

Maybe Beowulf isn’t in the mood for speeches wrought with fine words like cups studded with jewels. Maybe the poet is trying to just skate on through this section being straight to the point and direct. Or maybe, there’s something more going on here – something at the level of connotation and association.

Maybe direct, clear compound words, are those that are related to war specifically. Granted, you might be able to come up with more elaborate compounds that are used to describe battles and what not, but at least here, it’s curious that they’re so streamlined. If this is indicative of something about the poem that’s one thing. But what if it’s pointing to something present in all of Anglo-Saxon poetry, maybe even the culture itself?

If we run with the idea that this compounding cluster relates to Anglo-Saxon culture, then the compound words/phrases relating to war being straightforward and direct could mean a number of things. It could be meant to reflect the manly nature of war, men being more direct and active. Though this is a little bit anachronistic, since Anglo-Saxon women could rise to the same level of martial power as men.

Alternatively, this straightforwardness of war-related compounds could mean that war itself was something that the Anglo-Saxons regarded as straightforward. Or, maybe they saw it as something that need not be embellished when its reality is about to be brought home.

For all of Beowulf’s boasting up to this point has been about the past, only now does he actually boast about what he is going to do next. Maybe the rough drafts of boasts, boasts for deeds undone, are underplayed so that they can be elevated to ecstatically glorious places after the deeds they describe are done.

Or, again, maybe this straightforward language on the part of Beowulf (and the poet) is meant to be taken as a deference to fate.

Everything is cold and windy on the promontory. Beowulf is about to face the dragon, and talking to his men before the worm comes from its underground lair. Things are tense. Things are heavy. Beowulf knows that he’s an old man, “an old king of the people” (“frōd folces weard” l.2513). He knows that the dragon’s breath and venom are to be feared, to be protected against. So maybe his direct boasting, and its firm, resolute ending, are meant to show his humility before fate. After all, for our two combatants, it will be as fate decides, “swā…wyrd getēoð” (l. 2526).

What do you make of this crowd of compound words, these straightforward and unassuming combinations? Let me know down in the comments.

Next week, be ready for more of St. Isidore’s writing on deer, and Beowulf gives his final commands to the men before heading off to draw the dragon from its den.

Beowulf’s Boasts – Dayraven’s and Dragon’s Bane [2496-2509] (Old English)

Posted on 2012/03/23 by NSCZach

Translation
A Word and a Name
Compounded Words
Conclusion and Wrap Up

There’s more boasting from Beowulf today, as he recalls the turning point in his career and then starts to talk some smack about the dragon’s hoard.

{Perhaps the younger Beowulf that our hero has in mind. Image created by Sandra Effinger}

Translation

“Always would I go on foot before him,
first in the line, and so ’til age takes me
shall I conduct war, so long as this sword survives,
that which has and will endure;
ever since before the hosts I became the
hand slayer of Dayraven,the Frankish warrior
No treasure at all did he
bring back to the Frisian king,
No breast plate could he have carried,
for, in the field as standard bearer, he fell,
princely in courage; he was not slain by the sword
but by hostile grip I halted the surge of his heart,
broke his bone-house. Now shall the sword’s edge,
hand and hard blade, be heaved against the hoard.”
(Beowulf ll.2496-2509)

As with any passage that concentrates so much on warfare there are some bits here that are so loud that they can’t be ignored.

Return To Top
A Word and a Name

One such bit is the word “feðan.” It looks like it should be a verb because of its “an” ending, but the Clarke Hall & Meritt dictionary isn’t quite so sure about it.

However, the translation of “marched” or “go on foot” makes sense since the entry right before it is feða, meaning “footsoldier.” It might not be a perfect translation, but just turning that word into a verb might be an all right way to go. Sense be damned, right?

Speaking of sense, the name Dayraven (originally Dæghrefne) could carry an odd one. As came up in an earlier entry, the raven is one of the three beasts of battle. But the significance of the raven isn’t finished there.

Based on the appearance of a raven at daybreak earlier in the poem (l.1801, during the celebration of Beowulf defeating Grendel’s mother), the bird is definitely a bringer of joy. So what could it mean for Beowulf to kill a warrior named for this good omen-bearing bird?

Moreover, should we take the suggestion that Beowulf has killed a symbol of joy to mean that he has doomed himself, or is this joy only that of the Franks who have lost their standard bearer and a man that is “princely in courage” (“æþeling on elne,” l.2506)?

Dayraven’s being identified with the Franks twice within two consecutive lines suggests that if he is to be understood as some sort of embodiment of joy he is definitely the Franks’ joy only. But given what happens to Beowulf when he faces the dragon, one wonders.

Return To Top
Compounded Words

As this passage is one of the climaxes of Beowulf’s boasting there are some cool compound words in it. Among them are “brēost-weorðunge,” “hilde-grāp” and “bān-hūs.” None of these yield any crazy literal translations, being breast-ornament, hostile grip, and bone-house respectively, but they’re all compounds that hint at bits of the poem’s culture.

“Brēost-weorðunge” is possibly the most nebulous. A breast ornament could be decorative plate armor, but maybe it refers to something like a heavy necklace, or something that you could hang off of armor – medals, maybe. But that such an accessory was important enough to have its own name (poetic or otherwise) implies that the Anglo-Saxons took their bling seriously.

“Hilde-grāp” and “bān-hūs” are clearer and more direct, but no less curious. Why? Because they’re both readily translatable into words/phrases that could easily transfer into today’s English.

Also, that “hilde-grāp” specifies a certain kind of grip makes it clear that grappling was pretty important to Anglo-Saxons. Beowulf’s feats earlier in the poem also back up this implication about their culture.

With “bān-hūs” the implication seems to be more metaphysical, or at the least spiritual. Referring to a body as a “bone-house” might hint at there being something not of flesh dwelling within that house. That Clark Hall & Meritt translate it as “body, chest, breast” supports this idea that it hints at a belief in a soul of in-dwelling life force, since the “chest” or “breast” contains the heart.

All of this connotation puts me in mind of another Old English compound: “word-hoard.”

Return To Top
Conclusion and Wrap Up

Since Beowulf has talked up his sword skill with all of this boasting the dragon definitely needs to fear what’s coming to it. But – it won’t be coming just yet. Beowulf still has some more boasting to get out of the way before he’s ready to head over to the beast’s den. And, at the opposite end of things, Isidore gets into talk of ibexes next week.

So, be sure to check back next week for those two entries. In the meantime, what do you make of Beowulf’s killing Dayraven? Feel free to leave your thoughts in a comment.
Return To Top

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

Posted on 2012/03/16 by NSCZach

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

A Blogger's Beowulf

An Old English enthusiast's translation of Beowulf. Plus a little bit about Beowulf's impact on modern culture.

Category Archives: poetry

On Wiglaf’s Weapons (Pt.1) [ll.2606-2619] (Old English)

While Beowulf Roasts, Wiglaf Breaks from the Host [ll.2593-2605] (Old English)

Beowulf’s Battle Flame…Fading? [ll.2580b-2592] (Old English)

When Fate Fled Beowulf: The Beginnings of ‘One of Those Days’ [ll.2566-2580a] (Old English)

Beowulf & the Dragon: Little Appetite for Mutual Destruction [ll.2554-2565] (Old English)

Beowulf’s ‘Barbaric Yawp’ to Dragonkind [ll.2542-2553] (Old English)

Beowulf’s is no "cowardly course of action!" [ll.2529-2541] (Old English)

All About Beowulf’s Final "Boast-Words" [ll.2510-2528] (Old English)

Beowulf’s Boasts – Dayraven’s and Dragon’s Bane [2496-2509] (Old English)

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