Psychological Warfare and the Importance of Tactical Mercy (ll.2936-2945) [Old English]

Posted on 2013/01/04 by NSCZach

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
A Differently Angled Ambush
Stories and Psychological Warfare
Closing

The messenger’s story of the Ravenswood continues, as the Geats are pinned by Ongeontheow’s host until a saviour is heralded.

“‘Beset he then with an immense host the remnant
wearied by war wounds; all the night
long he twisted their tender spirits with vile boasts,
he said that he would destroy them with the
sword’s edge come morning, that he would hang them
on gallows trees to feed the birds. Yet joy again
existed in their sorrowful hearts just as day dawned,
for then came Hygelac with his horn and its call,
a sound they recognized, knew that it meant a troop
of great allies had arrived in their final moment.'”
(Beowulf ll.2936-2945)

Old English:

Modern English:

The messenger’s message continues, and his story about the Ravenswood really picks up steam in this week’s extract. What could be more exciting than a situation in which a last minute arrival swings in the good guys’ favour, right?

It’s not the first time that we’ve had a story with late comers mentioned in Beowulf. After the hero himself defeats Grendel we hear about the Battle of Finnsburg (ll.1068-1158), where the Frisians have ambushed and wearied the Danes.

Since it sounds like Hygelac was completely unexpected by Ongeontheow and the Geats alike, his appearance here is definitely a kind of ambush. But rather than the tragedy that is the Battle of Finnsburg, Hygelac’s appearance is a cause for joy.

After all, in the story about Finnsburg listeners can take a side, but in the messenger’s story, we know that those listening are cheering for the Geats, and therefore it’s less a negative ambush and more of a rescue, as the phrase “at last faran” (“arrived in their final moment,” l.2945) suggests.

Speaking of perspective, it’s easy to see even the major players within the world of Beowulf as brutes with sharp swords, but Ongeontheow does something rather incredible when he has the troop trapped in the Ravenswood.

He doesn’t rush in and slaughter them outright. Instead he launches a psychological attack, as he bombards them with “vile boasts” (“wean oft gehet” l.2937) all through the night (“ondlong niht” l.2938). This is a strange move on Ongeontheow’s part at first glance, but if we look deeper we can see his reasons for it.

During this period of time, destroying a leaderless band outright would have been like killing a headless man. Matters of redundancy aside, it would have been dishonourable and a source of shame, rather than something that a warrior could be proud of. Besides, a terrified group of leaderless enemy soldiers would have to deal with their own shame of having outlived their lord, and would likely tell the darkest stories of their conqueror’s power.

This sense of shame explains a little bit of why Ongeontheow says he’ll leave the Geats until morning, but it doesn’t give a full picture of it.

Down the line of shame, there may have been some convention among warriors of the time to wait so many hours/watches before attacking such a disorganized rabble (perhaps to let one of them rise up as leader?), but Ongeontheow has another reason for his threats.

Multiple stories told by many terrified, shamed, and sorrowful men would grow Ongeontheow’s reputation. But a handful of stories that include his torturing them with vile boasts all night and then slaughtering most of the remaining host would make it easy for any survivors to tell stories of him that were absolutely intimidating.

And, as we saw in 2012’s last entry, Ongeontheow seems to care deeply for the safety of his family. So creating the seeds of intimidating stories would benefit him as it would deter future purpose-less raids from other groups that were looking for places to attack for arrogance’s sake.

Next week, the story of Ravenswood continues. Don’t miss it!

And you can find the next part of Beowulf here.

Wending through the Ravenswood (ll.2922-2935) [Old English]

Posted on 2012/12/21 by NSCZach

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Picking at the Messenger’s Words
Biblical Arrogance
Closing

{Wiglaf shown landing the distracting blow, or Beowulf landing the fatal one – that’s just how much of a team this duo is. Image found on *Weird Worm*.}

The messenger goes on to recount why the Swedes will also turn against the Geats once word of Beowulf’s death reaches them.

Nor do I expect the Swedes to hold us as kin
or remain peaceful; for it was widely known
that Ongeontheow slew Haethcyn,
son of Hrethel, in the strife at Ravenswood,
when for arrogance the Geats first
sought to strike the Scylfings.
Old and terrible, Ohthere’s wise father
gave the return assault,
destroyed the sea king, kept his bride,
deprived his aged wife of gold,
the mother of Onela and Ohthere;
then he followed the mortal foe,
until they showed themselves
in great leaderless hardship in the Ravenswood.
(Beowulf ll.2922-2935)

Old English:

Modern English:

This passage is as complex as any path through a place called the Ravenswood might be. The Anglo-Saxon basics are here (a feud, raiding for treasure’s sake, protecting peace weavers), but the way that they’re delivered likely leaves something to be desired for most modern readers.

Particularly, the jump from the statement that the Swedes will not be the Geats’ greatest allies to the retelling of the Geats arrogantly raiding Swedish lands is not entirely clear.

There is a connection between the two, sure, but it definitely casts the Swedes in a much more negative light than the Geats. I mean, obviously any such unprovoked attack is likely to start some bitter feelings, but just as much as the Swedes hate the Geats for it, the Geats should hate the Swedes – their king was lost there, after all.

However, maybe the way that the messenger tells the story, calling the Geats arrogant and putting the Swedes in the place of the villains, is a call back to the story of Haethcyn and Herebeald. The story of fratricide leading to Haethcyn’s becoming king upon Hrethel’s death, itself brought on by Herebeald’s death.

If we follow this string a little further, we can speculate that the Geats’ arrogance wasn’t to be found in fighting a greater force than themselves – but rather that the Geats were arrogant in trying to force judgment on Haethcyn (a man that none could judge nor feud with because of the nature of fratricide).

For if the Swedes were a greater force than what the Geats could muster, and though it sounds like it must have been a harsh fate for those Ongeontheow met in the Ravenswood, it’s possible that they raided Swedish lands simply to get Haethcyn, the one guilty of fratricide, killed.

If such is the case, then maybe this act itself is also a reference to the story of king David and Bathsheba, in which he sends her husband, Uriah, to the front line so that she becomes a widow and therefore available. This biblical story is definitely one of arrogance, yet, Christ is considered to be of David’s lineage, and so relating a doomed race to such a story suggests that there is hope yet for the Geats, in some small and distant way.

Following this line of thinking, and working with the hypothesis that Beowulf was written down in the 10th/11th centuries, then maybe it was popular enough to write down around this time because it reflected a large group of Anglo-Saxon society’s hopefulness in the face of great odds.

That’s it for Tongues in Jars until the New Year. Watch for the next Beowulf entry on January 3!

Or you can jump to the next part of Beowulf here!

Questionable Memories (ll.2910b-2921) [Old English]

Posted on 2012/12/14 by NSCZach

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Battles and Anglo-Saxon War Codes
Behind the Scenes?
Closing

{Was the right side on the black or the red horse? Image found on jehsmith.com.}

The messenger foretells of trouble with the Franks and Frisians.

“Now our people may
expect war-time, once the king’s fall
becomes widely and openly known
among Franks and Frisians. The fury of the Franks
was hard rattled, after Hygelac sailed from afar
in a war fleet to Frisian lands, there
Hetware harried him on the field, zealously came out
against him with overpowering might so that the
corsleted warrior was made to give way,
he fell amongst foot soldiers; not at all did that
lord give treasures to his troop. Ever since then
the Merovingians have shown us no mercy.”
(Beowulf ll.2910b-2921)

Old English:

Modern English:

For a passage that tells of events which aren’t directly connected to Beowulf’s story, there’s a lot going on here. For the messenger tells of the battle in which Hygelac fell, and the grudge that the Merovingians (the pre-Pepin the Short Franks) hold against the Geats for their raid on their land. But this isn’t the first we’ve heard of a battle like this.

We heard Beowulf himself describe another one earlier, when he’s talking to the thanes before they go up to the dragon’s hoard and describes how he killed Dayraven on the field and swam back to Geatland with 30 suits of armour. What’s curious about both of these battles is that they both involve the death of the Geats’ lord. In the battle the messenger tells of, Hygelac dies, and in the battle Beowulf tells of, Hrethel and Haethcyn (however strange the chronology) fall.

Part of the Anglo-Saxon code of battle was to fight on after the death of your lord, and if any Geatish lord died here, then Beowulf should have fought until they won or he met a similar fate.

Instead Beowulf *swam* back to Geatland, suggesting that the Geats were not victorious, even though he may have brought treasures back with him. Plus, as a raid, how could it be successful save for the gaining of the raided land? Or were the Geats more like the reavers of A Song of Ice and Fire, attacking for loot and then returning to their homes?

But throughout the whole poem we don’t hear anything of Beowulf’s cowardice. Certainly, there’s no place for it in a piece that’s all about the grand deeds of one man.

Historically, since the Merovingians are mentioned, this battle would have happened in the 5th century AD. Socially, on the other hand, the sense that you ought to fight to the death – especially after your lord is killed in battle – may have waned by the time that Beowulf’s been written down.

More troubling, however, is the idea that Beowulf swam back with some hopes of claiming the throne for himself. Hygd may have been as enamoured with Beowulf as some argue Wealhtheow was, only she may also have been more successful in the wooing.

Whatever happened behind the scenes that saw Beowulf mounting the throne, the very fact that he survived the apparently lost battle against Hetware seems to work against many of the ideals of Anglo-Saxon warriors and society.

Perhaps, again, these things were what caused him to feel responsible for the dragon’s wrath. Perhaps his conscience was pricking at something deeper than disciplining some thief who stole a cup.

Check back here next Thursday for the continuation of the messenger’s words to the Geats!

And you can find the next part of Beowulf here.

Appraising a Dagger via a Sword

Posted on 2012/12/07 by NSCZach

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Reading Steel
Ouroboros Slinks in
Closing

{A modern replica of an Anglo-Saxon “seax” (or dagger). Image found on *Englisc Gateway*}

The messenger sent by Wiglaf tells the waiting people of Beowulf’s fate, and Wiglaf’s steadfastness.

“‘Now is the Weder’s gracious giver,
the lord of the Geats, fast in his deathbed,
gone to the grave by the dragon’s deed:
Beside him, in like state, lay the
mortal enemy, dead from dagger wounds; for that sword
could not work any wound whatever on
that fierce foe. Wiglaf sits
by Beowulf’s side, the son of Weohstan,
a warrior watching over the unliving other,
holding vigil over the Geats’ chief,
he sits by the beloved and the reviled.'”
(Beowulf ll.2900-2910a)

Old English:

Modern English:

The emphasis that the messenger puts on the dagger is strange. It’s not that he goes out of his way to praise it, but the fact that he makes it clear that the sword was useless. This extra detail suggests that the sword was indeed considered the proper, noble weapon, while the dagger held a lower position on the symbolic/social scale of weapons. Nonetheless, the connotation of Beowulf’s dagger use underlines just what the Geats lose when they lose Beowulf.

It was likely standard among Anglo-Saxons to carry a dagger of some kind with them, along with their swordbelt. However, even in the heat of the moment, the poet peels things back and tells us that Beowulf wore his dagger on his hip/byrnie.

So was the wearing of a smaller blade a new thing with Beowulf’s generation? Was it simply the garb of a proper warrior? Why does the poet specify where Beowulf wore his dagger?

Such a small detail, though potentially of some historical or cultural significance, is more likely than not just an example of the poet filling out his poetic meter. The mention of the sword’s failure, as an explanation for the use of the dagger definitely shows that the messenger is true to his word – he leaves out no detail.

And that honesty opens up the other side of the issue, it seems very likely that the sword is only mentioned to excuse the dagger. In fact, if you’ve read Beowulf enough times, you can almost see the crowd rolling their eyes and thinking that Beowulf’s just being Beowulf, being too strong for any sword and whatnot.

Yet, if we turn the mention of the dagger again, then there’s the matter of the dragon’s existence in the story being cyclical. The dragon appears because a thief steals from its hoard.

A dagger is weapon of favour among those who prize stealth (like thieves) – hence the modern genre tag “cloak and dagger” – and so is likely to be a thief’s weapon. The dragon is killed with a dagger, and so the dragon’s existence in the story is something of a closed system. A noble sword is wielded, but in the end what woke the dragon must put it back to its rest.

Next week, watch for the prognostications of the messenger on Thursday! I’ll also be uploading links to any British/Medieval archaeological news that I come across.

And you can find the next part of Beowulf here.

Spreading the Word [ll.2892-2899] (Old English)

Posted on 2012/11/09 by NSCZach

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Why so few Thanes?
More ‘Limits Lessening’
Closing

Looks like those knights have maille. Image found on *iStockPhoto*.

Wiglaf commands a messenger to go to tell the encamped Geats about Beowulf’s battle with the dragon.

“Commanded he then that the battle work be
reported to those encamped on the cliff-edge, where the
noble warrior host sat sorrow-hearted the morning length of day,
the shield bearers, each entertained both possibilities:
that it was the end of the dear man’s days and that
the prized prince would return again. The messenger
kept little silent in his story, so that naught was left
unsaid, and so he spoke truth to them all:”
(Beowulf ll.2892-2899)

Old English:

Modern English:

The first thing that comes to mind upon reading this passage is – if Beowulf had all of these shield bearers at his command, why didn’t he have all the Geatish warriors lay on the dragon at once? I can only imagine how poorly he’d do in Pikmin or in Little King’s Story.

Pitifully anachronistic references aside, it is a wonder why Beowulf wanted to travel only with 13. Sure, it could be said that he simply wanted to endanger as few as possible, but then you need to ask: Why 13 and not 3? Or, if there had been some hint of Wiglaf being the most valiant of the bunch, why not just the two of them with the thief as their guide?

However, as a poem that might’ve been used as a missionary tool, or that may have been hurriedly adapted from a pagan original by some deft bard, it makes sense that Beowulf travel with 13. After all, he’s he’s a Christ-figure (having survived the harrowing of the Grendels’ lair) and so to complete the analogy he needs 12 companions. One needs to betray him (the thief in this case, I suppose), and few need to prove true. In Beowulf only one the apostle analogues proves his mettle, but I’m sure that even when this change, or this narrative choice, was made, it was done to keep things interesting rather than boring its listeners with a thinly veiled Christian tale.

Stranger than any analogy, however, is this messenger that Wiglaf commands to go to the people. He’s clearly quick, and he’s clearly trained in the art of delivering messages (unless his heart and mind were so affected by the sight of Beowulf that he speaks truth to the people). It’s possible that it could be one of the cowardly thanes, but then, where did he come from? I’m not an early medieval military historian, by any means, but given the nature of communications then, it would make perfect sense to have a messenger in every military unit.

To hopefully suss this out a little bit more, let’s look back to lines 2878-2879 where Wiglaf says that he felt his “limits lessen”:

“…ongan swa þeah/ofer min gemet mæges helpan;”

“…I felt my limits/lessen when I strove to help our lord.”

Is it possible that just as Wiglaf found a previously unknown reserve of courage as he defended Beowulf, that the thane who delivers the news of the battle experiences the same?

If Beowulf, as we have it today, is truly a work that’s been influenced by early Christianity, as many believe it is, then this otherwise minor detail might be a major part of its Christianization. A major part of Christianity is the idea that everyone has freewill, and that one way to find your destiny is to essentially give that freewill up of your own choice so that you willingly accept “god’s plan.”

Wiglaf and this nameless messenger may not give up their freewill in doing what they do, but I don’t think it’s far from the mark to say that they both do what they’re supposed to do, and being part of the younger generation (which is almost always cast as defiant in literature), doing what these two do doesn’t come as naturally to them as it might to a young man with something to prove to kin that think he’s a good-for-nothing weakling.

Cutting right to it, then, I think that Wiglaf’s feeling his limits lessen and the messenger (assuming that it’s one of the cowardly thanes, and not some mysteriously a-horse messenger specialist) speaking freely to the gathered Geats are examples of two people finding their callings. Wiglaf is to be the battle leavings: something he can be as long as he goes to battle (if he wins, he survives and is a leaving, and if he loses he dies, and is an heirloom of the battle left to the crows and the sun). And the messenger…well…we don’t get enough information on him to be sure, but if there were certainty in analysis of English literature, science majors wouldn’t be so adverse to it.

That wraps things up for both blogs this week.

Come Monday, a new short story will appear over at A Glass Darkly, and expect a movie review (title TBA), and Annotated Links entry on Friday and Saturday respectively. Here at Tongues in Jars, the usual Latin and Old English entries will be updloaded on Tuesday and Thursday.

And you can find the next part of Beowulf here.

Wiglaf’s Prognosticatings [ll.2877-2891] (Old English)

Posted on 2012/11/02 by NSCZach

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Wiglaf’s Learned Look at the Future
Early Thoughts on Early Medieval English Nationhood
Closing

{Wiglaf casts no runes, but peers into the future nonetheless. Image found on the *Daily 23* blog.}

Wiglaf foretells of terrible times ahead for the Geats, but concludes on a defiant note.

“I of life protection little could
offer him in the fray, and yet I felt my limits
lessen when I strove to help our lord.
It was ever weakening, when I landed sword blows
on the mortal enemy, the fire from his head then
grew sluggish. As he became desperate, too few rallied
around the prince, at the time of the beast’s final
thrashing. Now shall the sword-gifting and treasure
sharing, all the native-land joy of our people,
our hope, be subdued; each of us will have
our land-right become idle
among our people, afterwards princes from afar
will come seeking, driving us all to flee,
an inglorious deed. Death is better
to every warrior than a life of dishonour!”
(Beowulf ll.2877-2891)

Old English:

Modern English:

Here Wiglaf’s rant becomes less about pure anger directed at the thanes (and perhaps redirected from himself, partially) to a bit of prognosticating.

He predicts that now the Geats are doomed because stronger neighbours will overrun them once it becomes known that the Geats have found great treasure and lost a greater leader. However, it’s not fair to pin nothing but prognostication onto Wiglaf’s words here, I think it’s fair to say that they’re simply predictions borne of observation.

Wiglaf has never fought in any battle before, but surely he’d have heard stories about them from his father, or from bards while at the court of Beowulf. With all the time the Geats spent in the meadhall it would be a wonder if their heads weren’t as full of tales as their bellies seem to be of mead and ale. So it’s safe to say that Wiglaf would know about the dangers of being without a powerful leader.

Anyway, the bigger thing here, at least, as far as I’m concerned, is the compound word “londrihtes” (l.2887). In modern English, this literally translates as “joy of land ownership” or “native land joy.”

The importance of this word, and its connotation appearing earlier in the use of words like “leodscip” (meaning “nation,” “people,” “country,” or “region”) is great. It suggests that the Geats, or the Anglo-Saxons who composed and refined and listened to and watched this poem, had more than just a concept of land ownership – they had a concept of their belonging to the land as much as they did of the land belonging to them.

What makes this so important is that it implies that they weren’t just roving bands of mercenaries, but felt some kind of connection to the land that they occupied, much in the same way that Wiglaf feels a connection to the land that he fears and predicts the Geats will be forced to flee. This isn’t a major aspect of the story, by any means, but its being mentioned and its being used as a threat of future doom buttresses its importance.

Follow me here. Earlier in the poem, speeches to inspire have involved the prospect of treasure or of glory of one kind or another. Even Wiglaf’s speech to the thanes involves reminding them of Beowulf’s generosity with his war spoils, themselves a kind of treasure (in the same way that an iPhone might be considered a treasure today – something ubiquitous that could also have a great deal of sentimental or personal meaning).

However, when Wiglaf starts his doom-saying about the entirety of the Geats he doesn’t say that their war gear will be snatched away, or even that they’ll lose the hoard of treasure – instead he says that they’ll be forced from the land. They’ll be forced to flee. In my mind, and I think, throughout this poem, this is the absolute worst thing that could happen to an Anglo-Saxon because it’s a form of exile.

Yes, the Geats will be forced to flee together, but they’ll still have to flee from the place that they call home. And if being exiled is such a big deal, and it can be expressed through a reference to land, then it seems to me that these Geats have at least some sense of living in a country – in Geatland.

That this is mentioned in this poem matters because its Anglo-Saxon creators wouldn’t waste their breath composing something meaningless. Even setting matters of structure and oratorial decoration aside, the word is there, and it comes at the climax of Wiglaf’s prediction. Therefore, the threat of land-loss must be things that strike a chord in medieval Anglo-Saxon minds. And if the notion of losing one’s country strikes a chord, then there needs to be a concept of even having a country for it to do so.

Thus, these references are important because they point to the importance of a nascent sort of nationalism that, admittedly needs to be expressed (or at least is only expressed as far as we can tell from surviving records/literature) through the story of another nation. It needs to be projected, in other words, which suggests that the nation doing the projecting might not be fully defined as yet, but nonetheless has some sense of nationhood.

Of course, for the reference to concepts of nationhood within Beowulf to suggest some nascent sense of nationalism, the poem would need to have been written (or at least first composed) around the time of Alfred the Great (ninth century) or earlier. All the same, there’s something to be said for the poem’s implications about nationhood.

Tomorrow, watch for a review of The Room – it’s coming!

And you can find the next part of Beowulf here.

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

Posted on 2012/10/26 by NSCZach

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*.}

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

“‘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)

Old English:

Modern English:

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.

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.

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!

And you can find the next part of Beowulf here.

On God and Wiglaf’s Re-Naming [ll.2852b-2863] (Old English)

Posted on 2012/10/19 by NSCZach

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Invocations
Wiglaf Smoulders
Closing

Tir, perhaps akin to the god Mars, the Norse god of warriors like Beowulf.

The Norse god of warriors Tir, Tiw to the Anglo-Saxons. Also strongly related to justice and law — is he what Beowulf’s audience would think of when they think of “The Measurer”? Image from https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:IB_299_4to_Tyr.jpg.

Wiglaf’s grief continues, and he turns his anger toward the cowardly thanes.

“He sat exhausted,
the warrior on foot near his lord’s shoulder;
tried to revive him with water – not at all did that speed him.
He might not on earth make that chieftan keep his life,
though he wished well to,
nor could he at all change the decree of the Ruler;
God’s decree would rule over the deeds
of each man, as he now yet does.
Then from that young warrior a grim answer
was easy to obtain for those who earlier had lost their courage.
Wiglaf spoke, Weohstan’s son,
the man sad at heart – he saw them as not dear:”
(Beowulf ll.2852b-2863)

Old English:

Modern English:

The reference to god on lines 2857-2859 lends Beowulf’s death finality. Every other reference to god has been at a set points, nodes even, of the story.

When Beowulf defeats Grendel he thanks god for the victory, when he comes back from the mire, he thanks god again. References to god and fate like this one seem to be the pillars that hold Beowulf on high. But then, what are they holding it up for? If the poem’s like a woven piece of Anglo-Saxon sculpture or jewelry, then what is the purpose of having anchor points? I suppose, because they’re references to cosmic forces, and are references to things that would hold the swirling designs of the universe in place. God’s referenced at the points in the story that emphasize order where things are otherwise going wrong.

A king’s hall being assaulted by a monster, a terrible she-beast wreaking havoc, a kingdom in turmoil, a dragon ravaging the land. Like any good fantasy story, this isn’t about a bunch of men talking about the latest tourney that went off without a hitch, or a bunch of ladies in waiting discussing what to bring their lady from the kitchen. This is a tale of action and adventure, particularly that of a young man who proves his worth and grows into greatness. References to god at key moments accentuate those moments and subtly nudge Christianity, or at the least the conception of there being just one god, into early audiences’ minds.

After this reference to god, we then move onto the epilogue. And with the return of Wiglaf’s name, and therefore, I argue, his agency, we swing back into his perspective.

Wiglaf’s frustrated with the thanes who ran since all of them working together could have very well slain the dragon without losing Beowulf. He’s also frustrated because of the immensity of the responsibility that he’s been saddled with (Beowulf having made him his successor). The whole trouble of dealing with a people who are very obviously not ready to defend themselves as valiantly as they had in the past is also now a worry of Wiglaf’s.

So it’s fair to say that Wiglaf is feeling quite overwhelmed by the task ahead of him now. He’s also moving into the anger stage of his grieving, lashing out at those whom he can easily pin the blame on. And rightfully so within Anglo-Saxon culture – but we won’t see just how direly he lays into them until next week.

In the meantime, check out A Glass Darkly tomorrow for a tip-toeing into the 2011 horror flick Silent House for Part Three of Shocktober. And come next week, watch for the Sixth stanza of “Dum Diane vitrea” and Wiglaf’s words to the cowardly thanes.

And, you can find the next part of Beowulf here.

The Fallen Hero and the Fleeing Thanes [ll.2836-2852a] (Old English)

Posted on 2012/10/12 by NSCZach

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Reflection amidst Grief
Joining the Two
The Battle-Leaving
Closing

Today’s excerpt is very clearly in two parts. In the first we see the wrapping up of explicit mourning for Beowulf, and in the second the return of the cowardly thanes who fled when the dragon grew fierce.

“Indeed few mighty men on earth
have so succeeded, as I have heard,
though every deed they did was daring,
few of them would make a rush against the breath of the
fierce ravager or could disturb a hall of rings by hand,
if he discovered the ward awakened
dwelling in the barrow. Beowulf had paid
for his share of the noble treasures with his death;
each had reached the end of
their loaned lives. It was not long then
before the laggards in battle left the wood,
ten cowardly traitors together,
those that dared not fight by the spear when
their liege lord was in greatest need;
but they were ashamed when they came bearing shields,
dressed in war garments to where their lord lay;
they gazed on Wiglaf. ”
(Beowulf ll.2836-2852a)

Old English:

Modern English:

The first half of this excerpt clearly expresses closure for Wiglaf, whether directly or indirectly.

Where the earlier meditation on the dragon might seem more like the poet/scribe’s own musing on death, it’s much easier to relate these lines about Beowulf’s sacrifice and his grand deeds to Wiglaf’s own thoughts. Yet, at the same time, having had a hand in defeating the dragon, it’s fair to say that Wiglaf may also have marvelled at the dragon’s corpse.

In fact, it could well be that Wiglaf first had to marvel at the corpse in order to really register the magnitude of Beowulf’s deed. And, as one of the poem’s audience proxies (since the warriors in the audience – of any skill level – could probably relate to Wiglaf’s facing a major, brand new challenge), it’s fair to say that he may have been so shocked by Beowulf’s death that it takes the meditation on the dragon to make him realize that its corpse was his and Beowulf’s doing.

Victory seemed impossible, but together they achieved it – though they can never be together again.

What’s interesting about the way the poet/scribe transitions between the meditation on Beowulf and the thanes’ return is that he uses a statement involving both parties. It’s not that Beowulf had reached the end of his loaned days, nor that the dragon did, but that both did. In death all things are just creations of the god that the poet/scribe may have been trying to tell his audience about.

Or, all things are ultimately and equally the toys of fate, depending on a person’s outlook. The fact that both the dragon and Beowulf reached the end of their loaned days, though, points to a deeper connection than anything implied by a mere whim like that so often associated with fate or wyrd.

After the transition to the thanes’ return we aren’t given much in the way of juicy material. They wend their way back to see the aftermath of the fight, and we’re not given any solid reason why aside from implications of feeling guilty and ashamed. However, what the poet/scribe chooses to point out in his description of the thanes is very telling.

After describing them as cowards they’re described as “ashamed when they came bearing shields,/dressed in war garments.” This fits in nicely with the idea of hypocrisy, and may also touch on a distrust of any consciously known dissonance in a person’s appearance.

It’s important for the poet/scribe to mention this here because it underlines a concern with a mismatch of appearance and essence. The thanes that fled are ashamed to be wearing the garb that marks them as warriors since these things were to help them become warriors but their own essences weren’t up to the task.

Further, since the majority of the thanes fled it’s implied that the old ways have failed the Geats. As a result of this, they’ve all gone soft in the face of new challenges, save for one. And, after nearly 100 lines of being without it, he is outfitted once more with his proper name: Wiglaf.

Renaming Wiglaf at this point may seem strange, but I think that it’s a positive example of the exterior matching the interior.

As mentioned in a previous entry, his name literally means battle-leaving or battle-heirloom. Since Wiglaf is the one left after the battle with the dragon, it seems almost as though he has fulfilled his name. Since he is indeed now a battle-leaving, he has achieved its proper meaning and is now a figure of authority that not just the thanes, but that the rest of the Geats will look to for guidance.

Unlike the cowardly thanes who are ashamed of the dissonance between their equipment and their conduct, through his courage Wiglaf has transcended into a perfect alignment between his name and his being which leads to his becoming as major a figure as Beowulf was, though his part of the story is much shorter.

All the same, check back next week for the continuation of that story on Thursday as Wiglaf lays into the thanes. Also, don’t miss verse four of “Dum Diane vitrea,” which will be posted come next Tuesday.

A little more immediately, go over to A Glass Darkly tomorrow for Part Two of Shocktober: a look at Leprechaun in the Hood

And you can find the next part of Beowulf here.

Two Fallen Greats [ll.2821-2835] (Old English)

Posted on 2012/10/05 by NSCZach

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Showing Mourning
Seeking Meaning
Closing

{A dramatic rendition of the dragon battle that gives it an intense, resonant scope. Image found on *Zouch Magazine & Miscellany*.}

A reflection on Beowulf’s death dwells on the dragon.

“That which had happened was painfully felt
by the young man, when he on the ground saw
that dearest one pitiably suffering
at his life’s end. The slayer also lay so,
the terrible earth dragon was bereaved of life,
by ruin overwhelmed. In the hoard of rings no
longer could the coiled serpent be on guard,
once he by sword edge was carried off,
hard, battle-sharp remnant of hammers,so
that the wide flier by wounds was still and
fallen on earth near the treasure house. Never
after did he move about through the air by flight
in the middle of the night, in his rich possession
glorying, never could he make more appearances,
since he fell to earth at the war leader’s deed of the
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsphand.”
(Beowulf ll.2821-2835)

Old English:

Modern English:

The first question to surface here, like the hideous sea beasts pulled from Grendel’s Mother’s mire, is why a section of the poem that’s showing Wiglaf’s grief for Beowulf immediately after his death dwells so long on the dragon rather than Beowulf.

It could be that the poet/scribe went this way because so much of the rest of the poem is given over to Beowulf. Or it could be that Wiglaf’s attention is simply drawn to the dragon because of the sheer spectacle of the sight. Though, it could also be that Wiglaf looks over to the dragon for the sake of contrast, to put off the reality of Beowulf’s death for just a short time so that he, as all but Beowulf’s named successor, can have a brief respite before he must coldly go forth and fulfil his duty as the new Geatish leader.

Of course, it could also be the poet’s own voice that pulls away from Wiglaf at this point, leaving his perspective behind for a time to turn a little more omniscient, and to give us, the listers/readers a view of the dragon as it lay dead so that we can contrast it with Beowulf.

Germanic culture widely held that dragons were symbols of the greed that would undermine the gift-centric Germanic society. So perhaps the focus on the dragon and the recounting of how it can no longer do anyone any harm suggests that greed itself has been defeated, and by one so noble as to sacrifice his own good for going against the advice of his counsel and fighting the dragon.

Maybe even the defeat of greed and the destruction of the Geats themselves that is an almost inevitable result (since they’re now kingless and sitting on all of this gold) are related.

If this version of the poem is as Christian as some believe, then this shift over to the dragon shouldn’t be read as Wiglaf’s or the poet/scribe’s attempt to contrast a death with a death, but instead as a way to show that the perfection of a society through the defeat of its greatest evil leaves that society at its end.

If Beowulf was ever used as a missionary tale, then this part of the poem could well be that which attempts to sooth potential converts into the belief that in becoming Christian their previous beliefs die off and they enter into something more perfect.

Or, again, their physical being ends, but just as Beowulf persisted up until he defeats his society’s major evil, so too would the spirit of the assimilated society persist in its people. Plus, missionaries would probably say the new converts were all imbued with the spark of life that, in the Christian tradition, is generally regarded as a spoken thing – just as this story itself would’ve been at the time, even after having been written out.

So could this episode in the Beowulf saga be another key moment in the use of the poem as missionary propaganda, or is it just the poet/scribe’s representation of Wiglaf’s mourning? Leave a comment in the box to let me know your thoughts!

Next week, stanza three of “Dum Diane vitrea” will drop, and Wiglaf meets the cowardly thanes as they slink onto the scene.

And 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

Psychological Warfare and the Importance of Tactical Mercy (ll.2936-2945) [Old English]

Wending through the Ravenswood (ll.2922-2935) [Old English]

Questionable Memories (ll.2910b-2921) [Old English]

Appraising a Dagger via a Sword

Spreading the Word [ll.2892-2899] (Old English)

Wiglaf’s Prognosticatings [ll.2877-2891] (Old English)

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

On God and Wiglaf’s Re-Naming [ll.2852b-2863] (Old English)

The Fallen Hero and the Fleeing Thanes [ll.2836-2852a] (Old English)

Two Fallen Greats [ll.2821-2835] (Old English)