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

Posted on 2013/08/02 by NSCZach

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Hrothgar – The Builder
What won’t be traded at Heorot
Closing

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

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)

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

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”?

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.

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.

You can find the next part of Beowulf here.

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

Posted on 2013/07/04 by NSCZach

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

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

“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)

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

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.

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.

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

You can find the next part of Beowulf here.

A funeral ship and far foreign lands (ll.32-42) [Old English]

Posted on 2013/06/28 by NSCZach

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
The matter of the treasure ship
Far away may as well be undiscovered
Closing

Scyld’s funeral procession and the description of his final ship feature this week.

“There at the landing place stood a ring-prowed ship
icy and eager to start, ready for that nobleman’s passage;
the dear lords lead him to
the brightly ringed wealth ship,
treasure filled it to the mast; there was plentiful loot
from foreign lands, booty, loaded into it.
Never heard I of a more splendidly adorned ship
war-ready and armoured,
blade and byrnie; upon his lap was lain
a multifarious fortune, among which
he was to go to far foreign lands.”
(Beowulf ll.32-42)

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

Scyld’s ship would make a cracking archaeological find. All of that treasure, some of which coming from foreign lands, would have so much to say about the range of the early medieval Danes (and maybe Anglo-Saxons?).

Outside of such a find, though, the big thing here is that the ship is characterized as “icy” (“isig” l.33).

What would the use of an icy ship be?

Would it more effectively cut through the water?

Or is it supposed to mean that it’s an old ship, one that’s been so covered with hoarfrost from travelling in the chill north that it’s become discoloured? Maybe barnacled?

The safest bet is that it’s an old ship. It’d be one thing to use a new one for a Viking burial, but it’d be something else entirely to use a new ship and to laden it with so much treasure.

Speaking of which, aside from the immense wealth on board, the time is taken to mention that the ship is “war-ready and armoured” (“hildewæpnum ond heaðowædum” l.39). Beliefs in some sort of struggle that one must go through to get to the afterlife are fairly common around this time, and they may have coupled with ideas traditionally ascribed to the Norse. Particularly, I refer to the Norse idea that only those who go to death armed will be able to join the ranks of Valhalla. Perhaps there’s also some of the Celtic belief that the afterlife is another life similar to the one in which readers of this entry find themselves.

Whatever the case, Scyld could very easily buy a king out of ransom, and fend off a horde of demons on his way to the “far foreign lands” (“æht feor” l.42).

Is the “far foreign land” of line 42 a predecessor to Shakespeare’s “he undiscover’d country” (from 3.i.81)? Outside of going into a lengthy historical/literary analysis, let’s just look at the two lines within the context of internet writing.

One tips for writing for the internet found in many books/articles/heads of experts is to use Anglo-Saxon words, rather than Latinate or Greek-derived words. It’s supposed to be best to use words that have been in English since the days of the Beowulf bard(s). Keeping this in mind, and remembering that the key here is simplicity maintaining itself throughout history, “the foreign country” as a euphemism for death should have some staying power.

After all, in the days when travel between points was difficult and most people stayed where they were born, anything outside of the village and its surroundings would seem distant and hard to reach. This difficulty of travelling abroad persisted from the time of Beowulf‘s composition (whether you peg it in the 7th or 11th century), to the time of Shakespeare (despite theories about his own wide travelling). With travel abroad being so difficult, round trips were even more so, and thus travelling to a “far foreign” land would mean a person may as well be dead – or vice versa.

Thus, though Shakespeare probably never read Beowulf, the sentiment of his “undiscover’d country,” and of Beowulf’s “far foreign land” is undoubtedly the same.

That’s it for this week. Recordings continue to be delayed, in fact, at this point the “Recording” section of each entry will continue to be included, but they will be filled only when I can find the time.

Next week, we get into part two of Scyld’s funeral, in which his body and its adornments are described.

You can find the next part of Beowulf here.

The power of spoken word (ll.20-31) [Old English]

Posted on 2013/06/24 by NSCZach

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
A word’s afterlife
Closing

Beowulf’s reputation is summed up as enough to draw reliable companions for battle, and Scyld dies.

“Thus the young man shall bring about good,
from the largesse of his father’s stores,
so that he among men thereafter retains
willing companions when battle comes,
the nation would endure; praiseful deeds shall
always increase for the family of such a man.
Scyld left off amidst his work,
full busy when he went to the Lord.
They brought him to the seashore,
those dear companions, as he had bidden them.
That man’s words ruled his companions,
those of the earthly prince long in languishing.”
(Beowulf ll.20-31)

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

The companionship sung about in this section of the poem sounds dear. Yet it’s phrased in a way that also makes it sound slightly tyrannical. It becomes quite a bit less so if you look at the text as something that’s supposed to be larger than life, and that’s supposed to magnify its characters.

Particularly powerful, though, is Scyld’s word. Lines 30-31 are not to be taken lightly. For these lines sum up what it means to be a truly great hero to Anglo-Saxons (as far as I can figure): commanding enough respect to have your words retain their effect, even after you’ve died. It’s a reflection of Scyld’s strength and, more than likely, his diplomatic skills that his word is so followed.

This same respect is paid to Beowulf, whose dying wish for a specific funeral is also followed. Thus, from the beginning, this poem is about exemplary figures who command the pseudo-mythical power of not only having their words be fulfilled after they’ve died, but also having these events reported.

Such fame might not put them in the same group as dog-headed men and a very large saint, but it definitely makes them remarkable for their time.

Next week, we come to the description of Scyld’s funeral.

You can find the next part of Beowulf here.

Spectacular speculation (ll.12-19) [Old English]

Posted on 2013/06/14 by NSCZach

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
All about “aldorlease”
Browsing Beowulf possibilities
Closing

Scyld Scefing’s son is born, and recognized as a suitable successor.

“His son was afterward born,
young in years, then did god send
consolation to the people; well did god know their distress,
What they had endured under the lord of old
for a long while; he the life-lord,
glory-lord, granted worldly-worth;
Beowulf was famous – glory widely sprang –
as Scylde’s successor, in all Scandinavian lands.”
(Beowulf ll.12-19)

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

Here is a grand example of the importance of family connections and succession for Anglo-Saxon society. However, rather than being a purely happy situation, there’s a note of hope invested in Scyld’s successor.

After all, it’s unclear who the “lord of old” (“aldorlease” (l.15)) is.

Since we’ve only been hearing of Scyld up to this point, the obvious answer is that it is Scyld himself. He was a good king because he commanded so much tribute, but it’s possible that people grew tired of him because of his concentrated wealth.

The lord of old could also be some old god, and maybe, getting into the Christian influences in the poem early, the reference alludes to Scyld’s own belief. Quite possibly he was an early convert, and used the birth of his son as a sign of this new god’s favour.

Or – Scyld’s rule was a little bit on the harsh side, and the scribe responsible for writing out Beowulf inserted this reference to allude to god’s showing favour to an oppressed people by giving this lord a successor who could be as fierce but more even handed.

Whoever the “lord of old” is, the entity referred to in lines 16-17, is definitely benevolent. Whether that’s a set of references to Scyld or to the Christian god.

Yes, Scyld’s successor was named Beowulf. And ultimately, then, Hrothgar has an ancestor who shares his name with the hero who saves him.

Maybe breaking out the titular name so early is a kind of feint, something to bring people in until the great hall of Heorot is built and the story’s strife becomes clear.

Though using “Beowulf” as a preview of the hero of the poem, could also be the case here. If this is the case, then the Beowulf of the poem proper could be considered a sort of second coming.

Or, along similar lines, maybe “Beowulf” is the name of a hero older than the events of the poem, here preserved as a fantastical figure. That would definitely explain why the mysterious Beowulf appears amidst historical figures like Hrothgar.

Editing the recordings is going much more slowly than anticipated. Getting a novel ready for publication, and getting freelance projects together have filled my days. But, my plan is to edit one track a day, get them on YouTube at the end of each week, and then embed those videos here.

As per next week’s text, Beowulf’s successor-ship is cemented, and Scyld’s funeral begins.

You can find the next part of Beowulf here.

Back to the Beginning of the Woven Ring (ll.1-11) [Old English]

Posted on 2013/06/07 by NSCZach

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
A Turn of Fate
Setting a Tight Sequential Tone
Closing

The poem begins on a rollicking note, as the poet recalls the glory of Scyld Scefing.

“What! We Spear-Danes had heard in days of yore
of the power of the king of a people,
how heroes accomplished valorous deeds.
Often did Scyld Scefing take away
the mead benches from troops of enemies,
terrified the Erola, afterwards that first was found
to become destitute; for that he experienced solace
grew up under a cloud, his honour prospered,
until each surrounding people from over
the whale road paid obeisance,
gave tribute: that was a good king!”
(Beowulf ll.1-11)

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

Right in the middle of this excerpt, there’s a marked turn.

The poet notes that “the first was found/to become destitute” (“Syððan ærest wearð/feasceaft funden” (ll.6-7)). Rather than just saying that Scyld Scefing became prosperous, the time is taken to note that the powerful that he tore down were torn down before his rise is solidly mentioned in line 7.

This sequencing of events underlines, very early on, the importance of sequence in the Anglo-Saxon world. It also gives some insight into kingship and the belief in something like fortune’s wheel. Only one person can be a powerful king at any given time, and only on can be on the top of the wheel in any given arena at one time. It just so happened that Scyld was at the top of both at the same time.

That the poet makes a note of this power shift also sets the tone of the poem. It will be a story of changing fortunes, but it will be one in which there is no vacuum left for things to be pulled into. There will always be some definite succession of events, something will always happen at the end of something else.

Already, we’ve seen this in the death of Beowulf. The Geats lost a leader, and they will definitely be wiped out since they have none to replace Beowulf. Meanwhile the surrounding tribes will shortly be upon them.

In a sense, the open-endedness that we are left with at the end of the poem promises something that may have been considered a fate worse than death: exile. Scyld might have stolen mead benches, what people would recline on while enjoying themselves and socializing, but exile means that a person would have no mead bench at all – none to even win back.

Next week, a batch of recordings will have been uploaded to this blog, and we’ll move onto Scefing’s further deeds.

You can find the next part of Beowulf here.

An End and Everlasting Fame (ll.3173-3182) [Old English]

Posted on 2013/05/24 by NSCZach

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Singled Out
Fame, Preservation, Power
Closing

Beowulf ends, as the gathered Geats mourn and praise their fallen leader.

“[They] praised him for his heroism and his courageous
deeds, which were judged highly, just as it was fitting
that the men laud their friend and lord prince with
such words, love of their hearts, when he
shall lead out his soul from his body.
Thus lamented the Geatish people
for the fall of their lord, their hearth companion;
they said that of earthly kings he was
the mildest among men and most gracious, the
kindest to people and most eager for fame.”
(Beowulf ll.3173-3182)

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

After the semicolon that ended last week’s extract, things become detached. The poet no longer refers to the actors as individuals, nor does e acknowledge individuals within the groups. Last week there were “sons” of noblemen, and twelve warriors. This week there are only “the men” (“þæt mon” (l.3175)), “the Geatish people” (“Geata leode” (l.3178)), and “they” (the pronoun derived from “cwædon” (l.3180)).

It’s as if the poet has pulled out his focus, broadening it until the final declaration about Beowulf can be made objectively. Though there is acknowledgement that it’s anything but, since it is the Geats themselves who say those good things about their fallen hero.

What this pulling away of subjects also does is emphasize Beowulf’s individuality all the more. It separates him from the Geatish people, and thereby allows the poet to elevate him somewhat. In a way, it allows Beowulf to be set on such a height where he is truly alone, making it clear that the poem is about him and should be named accordingly.

It’s one thing to end an epic poem with the death and burial of its main character. It’s quite another to end it on the comment that said character was the “most eager for fame” (“lofgeornost” (l.3182)).

Beowulf‘s ending in such a way strikes me as strange. Not because it’s out of place, but because it could well be the reason for the poem’s composition and endurance into manuscript form. After that it was just a matter of surviving, fire, rats, and worms, so that there were still enough words for modern people to read it.

Such an ending isn’t out of place, because it was fame that endured and Anglo-Saxons (like most peoples with an oral tradition) were sure to know this. In a way, living on through your fame could be considered similar to living on in spirit not just with family and friends, but with all who knew you. In a way, having as much fame as Beowulf did could possibly be intertwined with ideas of having a great magnanimity.

Perhaps what makes the last line seem discordant nonetheless, is its stating the obvious. Beowulf never shrank from a fight, even when his counsellors, (and, let’s be honest, common sense) suggested otherwise. He stood up to Grendel when none before succeeded, and then took the feud to Grendel’s terrible mother. He fought on countless battlefields, and in the end went up against a dragon – a monster right from the grand heroic tales considered old even in Beowulf’s day.

Why then mention (and on the last line, no less), that he always wanted to win fame?

Perhaps, it is just the poet having some fun with a famed figure. After all, the warrior did the deed, but the poet commemorated it, deeds are forgotten, but commemorations are not.

Having started this translation and commentary of Beowulf in its midst (and in a very different way), the next entry will see a return to the poem’s beginning.

However, next week there will not be a full update, as I work to get all of the missed recordings up and in place. Regular updates will resume the first Thursday of June (the 6th).

2018-04-05 Update: If you’re reading this after going through the entirety of my translation: thanks! Even if this is the first post you’re reading, thanks for doing so. Having people read what I write means a lot to me.

However much of it you’ve read, I hope you’ve enjoyed this translation. And be sure to watch this blog for my edited together version of Beowulf, Beowulf-related articles, and translations of other works.

She Wails, but only the Smoke’s Accepted (ll.3150-3162) [Old English]

Posted on 2013/05/10 by NSCZach

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Beowulf‘s Wailing Woman
Smoke in the Sky
Closing

A mourning woman is mentioned before larger concerns are noted and Beowulf’s barrow is built.

“Also a Geatish woman’s song of mourning
[ . . . ] with hair bound up
for that sorrowful song; they said repeatedly
that they dreaded sorely an invasion,
an abundance of slaughter, terror for the company of men,
humiliation and captivity. Heaven swallowed the smoke.
Then built the Geatish people
a burial mound on the headland, it was high and broad,
for seafarers it was widely visible,
and in ten days they built
the monument for the one bold in battle. They built
also a wall around the remnants of the fire, as
the wise men had most worthily devised it.”
(Beowulf ll.3150-3162)

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

The first truly curious thing about this passage (and there are a few) is the woman described in its opening. She isn’t identified as anyone we’ve met earlier in the poem, nor does she seem to be any individual in particular.

Though it must have been an Anglo-Saxon tradition for women to wear their hair up for mourning. After all something closer to what could be called unkempt is what first comes to mind when thinking of medieval mourning.

Perhaps the woman has it done up as part of her mourning for the sake of showing that everything is all right, and there’s cause for celebration. Though her sorrowful song certainly makes it clear that only the fire, the earth, and the worms have cause for celebration.

Some theorize that this woman is Hygelac’s former wife, Hygd. I’m sure there are even theories that the wailing woman and Beowulf plotted to get the poem’s hero onto the Geatish throne.

As per my own interpretation, I can see her being either an important individual or a stand-in for the Geats more generally, a kind of synecdoche figure for the grief and sorrow of a people.

This second interpretation has some evidence later in the passage, though, when the poet refers to the Geats’ fears for their future as “humiliation and captivity” (l.3155). Women were regularly married off to seal alliances or to ease feuds, but even when both sides of such arrangements had stable leaders I can’t imagine the experience of being given away and having to adjust to a completely new home being a happy one.

In the world of Beowulf in particular it seems that the value of a woman is determined by decidedly male factors. Who her father is, the martial status of her clan or people, and the relationship of suitors to her father are all variables.

With the Geats being leaderless, fear of living in humiliation when they were once proud, or in captivity when they once had the freedom to range around and help such people as the Danes, would sting any one of them. But to the Geatish women, such things would mean that they would be denied the security of even an orderly peace-weaver arrangement. Where their fathers, or brothers, or sons could intercede for them in normal circumstances, having lost their leader, the Geatish women will now have no such recourse as they’re much more simply taken.

The rest of this week’s extract offers a few interesting facts about Beowulf’s barrow, but what’s particularly striking is the end of line 3155: “Heaven swallowed the smoke.”

This statement cuts the extract into two pieces. The first piece deals with the mourning woman and the worried Geats, and the second with the construction of Beowulf’s barrow. Having such a stark sentence between these two things is an assertion of the need to carry on through crises and disasters. The peoples’ cries are not swallowed, nor are their worries. Only the smoke from the fire, only what can be expected from the mundane world. Yet, amidst this bleak pivot point for the passage, there is some hope.

The smoke reaches the heavens, and, once there, is accepted. In this single sentence the poet makes it clear that the world is temporary, but while people are in it they need to do what they can to improve it or at the least make it liveable. Thus, I don’t think that Beowulf’s barrow’s use as a landmark is just supposed to stand as a reminder of the fallen warrior’s glory, but as a metaphor for the things that people (or groups of people, as here) do to make life easier for others and for those who come next.

The sorrow and the worry of the Geats help no one, and so the heavens are indifferent to them. But the smoke heralds the death of a great hero who won glory in his youth and kept constant guard for his people’s good in his old age. Thus, the smoke, perhaps itself a metaphor for the most mundane of ways to transcend the physical world, is all that the heavens take in.

Next week we enter the closing stretch of Beowulf, as the man himself is laid to rest and the ceremony continues.

You can find the next part of Beowulf here.

Focused on the Fire (ll.3137-3149) [Old English]

Posted on 2013/05/06 by NSCZach

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
A Translation Explained
Further on the Fire’s Remains
Closing

Beowulf’s body is burned on his pyre, and even the fire mourns.

“For him the Geatish people then made ready
The splendid pyre in the earth,
hung round with helmets, with battle shields,
with gleaming mail coats, as he had requested.
Then they laid the renowned prince in the midst of
lamenting warriors, that dear lord.
The fighters then proceeded to kindle
that great funeral fire; wood smoke rose up
black over the blaze, the flame roared, mingling
with weeping – the swirling wind subsided – until
that blade had broken the body, proven hot to the
heart. Sad at the source, it threw about sorrowful
heat,and lamented grievously, killing the liege lord.”
(Beowulf ll.3137-3149)

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

The conventional way to translate the part of this week’s passage relating to the mourners and the fire is to ascribe the sorrow to the people around the flame. However, because the idea that even the elements mourn Beowulf’s passing has a lot of appeal, I chose to translate it as such. Admittedly, this is partially a baseless translation since I don’t know if the Anglo-Saxons believed in any sort of pathetic fallacy.

Nonetheless, I’d like to think that they, or the Christians writing out Beowulf, would have had some sense of the world as a creation being an organic whole. As such, the loss of one part would elicit an organic reaction from the other parts, or maybe more in line with ideas and theories of Anglo-Saxon artistry, the loss of a knot or a link causes the whole to function differently. Thus, rather than just having the fire burn, the loss of Beowulf (and, indeed, inevitably of all the Geats), causes it to mourn in its own turn, and to reluctantly fulfil its duty to destroy and reduce to ash.

That reduction to ash, although not really mentioned in this passage, is implicit, and important. As an elegy, Beowulf is cyclical to some extent. It begins with the mourning of Scyld Scyfing, then moves through Beowulf’s triumphs, and ends with the mourning of Beowulf himself. The concept that all humans follow a similar cycle is found in Christian religion, along with many others.

But the idea’s presence in Christianity is especially relevant, since the interwoven structure of the poem and the cycle of mourning-triumph-mourning work well to illustrate the rhythms of human achievement in a Christian perspective. Everything returns to dust, but also comes from that same dust.

At the heart of such a sentiment, the Anglo-Saxon idea that people are given a “loan of days” is right at home.

Next week, we’ll see the mysterious mourning woman, and hear about the construction of Beowulf’s monumental barrow.

You can find the next part of Beowulf here.

Dragons and Death (ll.3120-3136) [Old English]

Posted on 2013/04/26 by NSCZach

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
The Dead Become Dragons?
Dealing with Dragons
Closing

Wiglaf and several other Geats raid the hoard, and then bring Beowulf and their haul to Hronesness for the hero’s funeral.

Indeed the wise son of Weohstan
summoned a band of the king’s thanes,
seven together, those who were best,
he went with seven others, warriors,
under the evil roof; one bore in hand
a flaming torch, the one who went at the front.
There was no drawing of lots for the plundering of
that hoard, when the men saw that all parts of
the hall remained without a guardian,
for he lay wasting away; few of them grieved
as they hastily carried out those
dear treasures; the dragon also was pushed,
the serpent they slid over the sea cliff, let the waves
take him, the sea enfolded that guardian of precious
things. Then was wound gold loaded onto wagons,
everything in countless numbers, then was the prince borne,
the old warrior brought to Hronesness.
(Beowulf ll.3120-3136)

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

There’s something to be said for efficiency. And, here efficiency could be something pointing towards a parallel that’s merely been suggested beforehand.

As far as the poem describes it, the Geats move Beowulf over to Hronesness in the same load, or at least trip, as the gold that they’ve taken from the hoard. Beowulf is certainly worthy to ride with such treasures, but laying him on this heap of heirlooms is really quite strange, especially if you consider what happens to the dragon.

It’s a small act, but there’s so much going on in it. The projection of value onto wealth, the equation of treasured objects with treasured people, perhaps even a glimpse into a philosophy of the soul. For, the Anglo-Saxons might have regarded the body as merely a vessel, much like the cups found in the hoard, something that can be shining and gold adorned, but that maybe has its greatest value when it is filled with mead, just as a body might have its greatest value while it still holds a soul.

Among the strangest of the things that it suggests (and this is something suggested by the act of burying people of high esteem with objects of high esteem), is that in death great people are made into what, if living, could be considered a dragon. They’re in a barrow, surrounded by gold, and, in the case of Beowulf, there is always flame nearby. Even in the case of people like Scyld Scefing, who were pushed off to sea in ships ladened with treasure and then put to flame, all of the key aspects of a dragon can be found.

Yet, what do the Geats do with a proper dragon? They just dump it over the cliff and let it fall into the water. Keeping the written Beowulf‘s Christian influences in mind, I wonder if doing so is as bad as dying in a fire is to the Greeks. In either case your body isn’t being properly preserved, which, strictly theologically speaking, means you will not be able to be judged come the second coming.

Moreover, though, it’s also a denial of the cyclical nature of life as laid down throughout the Bible: ‘people are dust and unto dust they will return.’ Perhaps, in a way, destroying a body but not burying it was intended as a way to keep another manifestation of that thing from appearing. If such is the case, then the ceremonial funerals of great figures from this period and earlier could be explained as a means of propagating greatness, or re-introducing it into the life-cycle.

But then, for a people like the Geats, who face difficulty on all sides and even among themselves believe they’ll be wiped out, what does such a funeral mean? Is it merely to be a monument to the greatest of a long forgotten people? Is it, in the case of Beowulf, just a convenient excuse to build a lighthouse?

Next week, Beowulf burns.

You can find the next part of Beowulf here.

A Blogger's Beowulf

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

Tag Archives: Anglo-Saxon

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

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

A funeral ship and far foreign lands (ll.32-42) [Old English]

The power of spoken word (ll.20-31) [Old English]

Spectacular speculation (ll.12-19) [Old English]

Back to the Beginning of the Woven Ring (ll.1-11) [Old English]

An End and Everlasting Fame (ll.3173-3182) [Old English]

She Wails, but only the Smoke’s Accepted (ll.3150-3162) [Old English]

Focused on the Fire (ll.3137-3149) [Old English]

Dragons and Death (ll.3120-3136) [Old English]