Between Religions? (ll.3069-3075) [Old English]

Posted on 2013/03/22 by NSCZach

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
The Ward on the Hoard
Wiglaf: Favoured and Condemned
Closing

A brief passage about the curse laid upon the dragon’s hoard.

“Just so the renowned princes solemnly declared
a curse upon that which they placed there until doomsday,
that the man would be guilty in sins,
confined in idol’s shrines, held fast in hell-bonds,
tormented in evil, whoever plundered that place;
not at all had he earlier perceived
the gold-giving lord’s favour.”
(Beowulf ll.3069-3075)

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

One of the strongest arguments for this poem’s being written down for some sort of missionary purpose is its treatment of pagan seeming religions. We get the first taste of this all the way back at the poem’s opening, when the poet describes Hrothgar’s use of strange rituals to try to ward off Grendel. Here, as there, there’s a clear connection between idols and evil.

Though, interestingly, and especially given the poem’s symmetry, in this extract, the poet isn’t condemning the characters to evil and hellbonds, but rather is the poet reporting what the hoard’s original owner did to protect their wealth.

Rather than a mention of religion that condemns people, this is a mention of it that sees people condemning those who seek out worldly wealth, as represented by the impossibly valuble hoard. To do so, the one hurling the curse would need to be invoking an opposite power – or, perhaps that same hellish power that they condemn the hoard’s violator to.

This is where things get complicated in themselves, since the powers invoked could be either or, but also in the broader context of the poem.

It was noted two weeks ago that the poet states that only someone whom god judged worthy would be allowed into the hoard. Wiglaf seems to have passed, since he in fact delved into the hoard. But now, the poet tells us that the hoard’s establisher laid a curse on it that would condemn any looter to hell. Read as a whole, these two parts of the poem say that god wanted the Geats to be destroyed, essentially having set a kind of trap.

Perhaps Beowulf put in a word for Wiglaf, though, and his death has been staid until the last of the Geats has fallen. After all, Beowulf’s soul did go to where the righteous are judged (l.2820).

Leave your thoughts in the comments. And check back here next week for the first part of Wiglaf’s words about Beowulf and his mad sally against the dragon.

You can find the next part of Beowulf here.

Waxing Elegiac as Treasure Trickles (ll.3058-3068) [Old English]

Posted on 2013/03/16 by NSCZach

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
A Use for Elegies
Gold-less Geats
Closing

The poet steps back from the action to muse on the glorious futility of the Geats’ quest for the dragon’s gold.

“Then it was seen, that the journey for
that which was hidden in the earth swell
was for nought; the guard earlier slew
that one of joy; that one worked the feud,
and worked it wrathfully. It is a wonder
where any great man famed for courage will meet the end
of these loaned days, when he may no longer
dwell with his kinsmen in the mead hall.
So it was with Beowulf, when he the barrow’s
guardian sought, cunning enmity: none can know
through what means his own parting from this world will be.”
(Beowulf ll.3058-3068)

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

It’s true that none can know his or her end, but there’s some solace to be found in this sentiment.

After all, not knowing when or how you’ll die means it could happen at any time, and so this absence of knowledge presents you with two possibilities: dread and drive. Being an epic poem that celebrates the life of a legendary hero, it’s pretty clear that the poet intends to focus on the “drive” aspect of death’s mystery.

But why?

Well, given the widespread use of the elegiac in Anglo-Saxon literature (check out “The Seafarer,” or “Wulf and Eadwacer,” or “The Wanderer,” for just a few samples), it must have been a device that they found interesting or useful.

Perhaps Anglo-Saxons enjoyed a good elegy for the same reason that melancholy songs remain popular through to today. Such pieces of concentrated dreariness offer a useful contrast to people’s own personal problems, and the perspective that they give to listeners is often useful in brightening up their mood. This use of melancholy as a poultice for sorrow might also be why Christianity eventually found root with the Anglo-Saxons, since it is a religion with a truly elegiac figure at its center.

It’s mentioned in passing on line 3059, but getting the treasure is never noted as the 12’s original goal in going to seek the dragon. In fact, Beowulf’s primary concern appears to be killing the monster, not revelling in its hoarded wealth. Nonetheless, this brief glimpse into a more adventurous motivation suggests how the hunt for treasure is always somewhere in the Anglo-Saxon mind.

What’s more, as it appears in this extract, the absence of treasure works as a shorthand for the loss that the Geats now suffer. Were they able to take the gold, it’s possible that they could try to buy their safety. Without those riches, however, the Geats lose yet another means of escaping their fate. They are leaderless, and now, they’re also treasureless.

Next week, the poet describes the curse put upon the gold. Check back here then for an enchanting read.

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!

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.

Beowulf’s Death, and his Soul’s Departure [ll.2809-2820] (Old English)

Posted on 2012/09/28 by NSCZach

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Ambiguity in Beowulf’s Death
Beowulf Doomed?
Closing

{Wiglaf listens to Beowulf’s final words. Image found on “Outpost 10F” of *The Poetry Guild*.}

Beowulf bestows his war garb unto Wiglaf, and then gives up the ghost.

He did off the golden ring about his neck,
the brave hearted prince, gave it to the thane,
the young spear warrior, his gold adorned helmet,
ring and mail shirt, commanded him to use them well:
“You are the last remaining of our kin,
of the Waegmundings; fate has swept away all
of my line as per the decree of destiny,
warriors in valour; I after them now shall go.”
That was the old one’s last word
of thoughts of the heart before he chose the pyre,
the hot battle flame; from his breast went
his soul to seek the judgment of the righteous.
(Beowulf ll.2809-2820)

Old English:

Modern English:

As will be the case with the death of any great literary figure, this passage is one that’s often studied. Beyond its importance to the story, we’re also once more confronted with some ambiguity around Beowulf’s deeds. Yet, rather than being confronted with ambiguity by the words of Beowulf himself, we’re confronted with ambiguity in the poet/scribe’s own phrasing.

At the passage’s end we’re told that Beowulf’s soul leaves to “seek the judgement of the righteous.” Just as the phrase “judgement of the righteous” is ambiguous in Modern English, since the litigous could defend its meaning either ‘the judgement handed down by the righteous,’ or ‘the judgement that is passed on the righteous,’ it’s the same in Old English. There it simply reads: “soðfæstra dom” (l.2820).

The problem here is that there’s no clarifying word or phrase either in the original or in most translations that strive to be accurate. As a result we’re left with something that leaves the interpretation up to the listener/reader.

But could this maybe be the point here? Could the poet/scribe who created the version of the poem that we have today have been going for ambiguity at this part of the poem?

Just as either side of the phrase’s meaning could be argued, so too could either side of the interpretation debate.

In brief, if it’s understood to mean that Beowulf is a righteous one going to the judgment that awaits him it sets him among the holy heathens whom Christ pulled from the upper levels of hell during its harrowing.

Alternately, if the phrase is interpreted as meaning that the righteous are passing judgment, there’s a strong implication that either righteousness is something a person earns after being judged worthy by those who have it (thereby becoming one of their peers).

Or, taking this meaning could mean that Beowulf really isn’t righteous at all, and that his being judged by them means that there will be a great deal of hardship in his afterlife.

Of these three possibilities, the most interesting is that Beowulf might be doomed in the end since he’s being judged by the righteous.

A truly puritanical Christian audience might be expecting as much from such a violent, alcoholic figure, but at the same time, that would seriously undermine any missionary value that this story had. After all, the Christian monks who recorded stories such as this from oral traditions would definitely have given them a spin that could be useful for bringing around the unconverted.

Of course, that gives the idea that this moment of ambiguity is intentional even more steam.

Yes, it could maybe spark debate among those who differ in their interpretations, but as long as this version was being told by a priest or religious, they would be there to point the way to their own version of the truth. If monks or religious actually went around reciting this poem, then this moment in particular would be the perfect one to serve as a crisis moment that could be turned around and explained so as to make Christ seem super appealing.

Unfortunately, the only way we’ll ever know for sure if any of this speculation about the ambiguity of the phrase “soðfæstra dom” is accurate is if another version of the poem shows up or the scribe of our version is definitively identified.

Until then, feel free to leave your thoughts on the phrase in the comments!

Next week, the second verse of “Dum Diane vitrea” will be up, along with what Wiglaf does next after Beowulf’s demise.

You can find the next part of Beowulf here.

Fortune Beguiled? ["O Fortuna," Third Stanza] (Latin)

Posted on 2012/08/15 by NSCZach

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Final Notes
Sorrow maybe made Joyous
Closing

{Lady Fortune likes to greet those she favours with a fist bump – for obvious reasons. Image found on Doctor Michael Haldane’s Translation Homepage.}

The poem’s speaker finally gives in under the crushing weight of Fortune, and laments, calling all others to join him.

Ah Fortune, you do invert
My health and my power,
Ay do you torture me with desire and weakness.
Now without hindrance let us strike
The chord in time, lament loudly with me,
For Fortune foils even the fortunate.
(“O Fortuna”, 3rd stanza)

Latin:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

Once more, the translation above is not entirely literal – but that’s just not my modus operandi.

Though the most altered line is the final one. Not that the original Latin (“quod per sortem sternit fortem”) doesn’t come out to something similar when translated literally, word for word (“which by fortune overthrow the strong”). It’s just that the above translation dwells less on the words of the original and attempts to delve more into the sense of those original words.

The basic idea is that Fortune treats everyone equally, regardless of their merits. What better way to express that in English than to match “Fortune” with “fortunate”? Plus, though not necessarily a quality in thirteenth century Goliardic poetry, the alliteration is also very English.

Now, although this poem ends on a pretty down note, one phrase is curious. In the original Latin it is “mecum omnes plangite,” in the above translation it’s “lament loudly with me.” What’s interesting here is that, though it’s framed by the sorrowful “lament” the speaker calls for everyone to come together to lament Fortune’s tyranny.

But, what usually happens when a bunch of people get together (even medieval people)? A cracking party ensues – of one sort or another.

So it might be something that’s coming from looking a little too deep, but including the call for everyone to come complain with him suggests that the speaker is aware that Fortune is not the only thing that runs in cycles.

It could be that he’s trying to start some kind of spirit boosting gathering, even if it’s just a bunch of monks getting together and moaning about their misfortunes. Unless they’re all Dominicans, chances are one will tell a joke or relate a misfortune that another will chuckle at, and things will go up from there.

Or, of course, they’ll reason that this Fortune stuff is all pagan nonsense and go off to read the loose-parchment copies of the story of Christ jousting against Satan that they’ve hidden in their bound books of theology.

Come Thursday, Wiglaf is in the dragon’s hoard and does some hoarding of his own – while the poet ornaments his tale with a brief meditation on the dragon.

On Water and Words [ll.2720-2732a] (Old English)

Posted on 2012/07/19 by NSCZach

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
A Good Washing
Passing (Things) On
Closing

{Wiglaf raising the washing water to Beowulf. Image found at the Tolkien Library}

Wiglaf tends to Beowulf and Beowulf begins to speak to Wiglaf, signalling that his death is imminent.

“Then he with hand, blood-stained,
the famed lord, a man unmatched for good,
washed his dear lord with water,
battle-worn, and unclasped his helm.
Beowulf spoke – he spoke through the pain,
the ache, of his miserably vexatious wound; well he knew,
that he had fulfilled the days of his life,
of earthen joy; that all of his life-time had
fled, death was immeasurably near:
‘Now I to the son of mine would give
the war garments, if it had been so granted
by fate that I any heir had,
flesh of my flesh.'”
(Beowulf ll.2720-32a)

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

The washing of Beowulf requires some note here.

First, there’s the general importance of the act as a means of humbling yourself before someone whom you respect.

Then there’s the fact that it’s a simple act of subservience, the sort of thing that is an active display of obedience and respect.

And that interpretation of the act leads into the Christian significance. However, if this death is meant to mirror that of Christ in the New Testament, then there’s something interesting going on here.

In the NT and in the Catholic ritual recreating the Last Supper, it’s Christ who washes his disciples’ feet.

Wiglaf’s washing is more general, but if the parallels between these stories are followed, then Wiglaf is effectively becoming the Christ figure of the story, possibly in a more meaningful way than Beowulf.

Yes, Beowulf defeated the dragon, but that cost him his life, and Beowulf would never be characteristically elegiac if he came back to life afterwards (nor would the Anglo-Saxons have told it like that, regardless of whatever their source material may have been).

This transference of Christ-ness might even have been one of the original purposes of the poem as a conversion tool, since it’s the sort of succession that Anglo-Saxon’s would have understood. After all, it’s the exact same way that kingship would be transferred when no heir was available: through a ritualistic act and acknowledgement.

The opening of Beowulf’s speech also says a lot about the Christian intent of the written version of the poem.

If Beowulf is taken as a heroic heathen, someone who is Christian in all ways but name (ignore for a moment, his constant references to a single ‘Lord of Men’/’Ruler’/’King of Glory’), then he simply can’t have an heir. There can be no continuation of the virtuous heathens, since there is no further need for such people, the virtuous will, of course, be Christians. And so enter the transitional figure of Wiglaf, the one who reprimands the cowardly thanes and does his best to guide Geatland gently into the good night awaiting it after Beowulf’s death.

Beowulf signals his death not by saying that he has reached the end, as the poet/scribe does before we get his dialogue, but by saying that he has no heir to give his weapons to.

He has no offspring that he could call “flesh of my flesh” (or “belonging to my body” for a curiously medieval Christian rendering of “lice gelenge” (l.2732)) that can continue his line directly. And so, it passes to one who’s proven himself to be worthy: Wiglaf.

However, it’s important that Beowulf opens his speech with talk of handing down his war garb. Because Wiglaf is not his son, the war garb will not be touching the same flesh (more practically, it may also be less of a snug fit than on any son of Beowulf). As a result, Wiglaf is not going to be able to do the same things that Beowulf did with his gear, in both the literal and figurative senses.

And that a body patently different from Beowulf’s carries forward the symbols of the old way embodied by Beowulf’s war garb (arguably, his most precious possession) is a great metaphor for the spread of Christianity throughout Early Medieval Europe.

Check back here next week, for Isidore’s finishing off the first section of book 12 with further discussion of fertility lore, and for Beowulf’s quick review of his kingship and current predicament.

You can find the next part of Beowulf here.

Beowulf Strikes the Dragon’s Head, and the Poet/Scribe Strikes at the Poem’s Heart [ll.2672b-2687] (Old English)

Posted on 2012/06/22 by NSCZach

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Beowulf’s Flaw, and an Old Dichotomy
Striking at the Heart of the Poem
Closing

{A good example of how flame might advance in a wave. Image by John Howe, and found on john-howe.com.}

Wiglaf’s valor inspires Beowulf, but this leads to the revelation of the truth about Beowulf and his swords.

“Flame in a wave advanced,
burned the shield up to the boss; mail coat could not
for the young spear-warrior provide help,
but the man of youth under his kinsman’s shield
valiantly went on, when his own was
by flame destroyed. Then the war king again set
his mind on glory, struck with great strength
with the war sword, so that it in the dragon’s head stuck
and impelled hostility; Naegling broke,
failed at battle the sword of Beowulf, ancient
and grey-coloured. To him it was not granted by
fate that his sword’s edge may be a help at battle;
it was in his too strong hand, he who did so with
every sword, as I have heard, the stroke overtaxed
it, when he to battle bore any weapon wondrously
hard; it was not for him at all the better.”
(Beowulf ll.2672b-2687)

Old English:

Modern English:

All heroes need a flaw.

Eddard Stark in the Song of Ice and Fire was simply too noble, Link in the Legend of Zelda games is always inexperienced, and Beowulf can’t effectively wield swords. Beowulf’s particular weakness is especially interesting in relation to the rest of the poem.

On the one hand, it’s potentially a great reflection of Beowulf’s name, whether it means “bear” (bee-wolf), or is simply “wolf.” His being unable to use swords effectively (almost pervasively a symbol of cultivated, human nobility) plays well to his animalistic aspect.

Rather than fighting like a civilized man with sword and shield, Beowulf instead fights bare handed, and is indeed the better for it. After all, defeating Grendel empty-handed is a much more boast-worthy feat than defeating him with a sword, not necessarily because of the strength that it requires, but because it plays so well into the mythology around Grendel as a monster who resists iron weapons.

However, it also implies that Beowulf is somehow on a level with Grendel, who, as it is noted, “scorns/in his reckless way to use weapons” (“þæt se ǣglǣca/for his won-hȳdum wǣpna ne recceð”(ll.433-434)).

In this way, Beowulf’s prowess in unarmed combat speaks to something uncivilized in him that he’s note entirely capable of controlling. After his fight with Grendel, he doesn’t seem to take up sword and shield to the same effect again (after Grendel we hear no more of “sea-brutes” (“niceras” (l.422)) or trolls (“eotena” (l.421))). Except of course, in his final, fatal battle with the dragon.

The fact that the whole poem is essentially an elegy to Beowulf and the Geatish (probably, by proxy, Anglo-Saxon) culture that he is so much a part of, while also presenting Beowulf as uncivilized in war (something uncivilized in itself) might just be the strongest argument for Beowulf’s really being about the Anglo-Saxons transitioning from their own traditions to something more Christian. The brutality of empty-handed combat gives way to something regarded as more civil.

The way of the sword (very obviously a cross, if the blade is stuck into the ground), is left in the absence of the way of the brutal fist. But even the way of the sword fades, if you look beyond the far end of the poem, as the Geats are prophesied to soon meet their end as a nation (ll.3010-3030).

So in addition to elegy, the poem is also apocalyptic, indicating the end of warfare, the way of the sword, for one of the many groups in early medieval Europe. Perhaps, from a Christian perspective, this is meant to point towards a Utopian future, or Second Coming, that is inevitable if the old ways are left behind and new ones are adapted.

Check back next week for more of Isidore’s colorful explanations, and for the climax of the battle between team Beowulf and the dragon.

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: Christianity

Between Religions? (ll.3069-3075) [Old English]

Waxing Elegiac as Treasure Trickles (ll.3058-3068) [Old English]

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

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

Beowulf’s Death, and his Soul’s Departure [ll.2809-2820] (Old English)

Fortune Beguiled? ["O Fortuna," Third Stanza] (Latin)

On Water and Words [ll.2720-2732a] (Old English)

Beowulf Strikes the Dragon’s Head, and the Poet/Scribe Strikes at the Poem’s Heart [ll.2672b-2687] (Old English)