Beowulf’s forceful resumé and multi-purpose words (ll.419-428)

Posted on 2014/06/20 by NSCZach

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Words of force or forced words?
Multipurpose words
Closing

Beowulf’s speech continues. Picking up from last week’s speech about who he is and how he heard of Heorot’s distress, Beowulf now shares the highlights of his deeds.

“‘They themselves saw, when I cleverly overcame,
foe after foe, when I bound five,
devastated the kin of giants, and upon the sea slew
water-demons by night, I have endured dire need,
have fulfilled the Geat’s hatred – such was the hope they summoned –
it consumed those enemies. And so it shall now against Grendel,
against this monster I will stand alone as it please
in such a meeting with the demon. I to thee now then,
lord of the Bright-Danes, will make my request,
prince of the Scyldings, will proclaim this alone:'”
(Beowulf ll.419-428)

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

The Anglo-Saxons were fond of woven patterns and intricate knotted designs. You can see it in their art (this blog’s header image for example), and poetry (Beowulf‘s interlace structure, is a prime example).

But Beowulf’s speech is a true show of what it means to weave words. Hrothgar has his “thee”‘s and “thou”‘s and the diction of an august figure. But Beowulf brings much more artifice to his speech. As a result, it’s hard to say how seriously we can take his words.

Now, as always when analyzing word use in Old English poetry, it must be noted that alliteration held considerable sway over which words made it to the page or performance. Beowulf’s speech is certainly no exception.

First among its more rhetorical flourishes is the use of ðing on line 426. This word has the same meaning as Modern English “thing,” but it can also mean “lawsuit,” “court of justice” or “meeting.” In this instance the word appears to be chosen for its alliterative properties (line 426’s alliterative sound being the dental fricative “th,”) yet its use gives me pause.

Should Beowulf’s use of this word be taken to mean that Grendel bears more than a mindless hatred toward Heorot?

Or is he just trying to say that Grendel has pursued this hatred of his with all the furor of a legal battle – a fight between two parties with wildly differing opinions about what’s fair?

Though it’s another example of something used for the sake of alliteration, line 428’s “bene” translates as “summon, command, proclaim.” These are strong words for a guest to use to indicate an upcoming request. Not to mention that this is the first time that Beowulf is addressing Hrothgar. As such, using such a forceful word comes across as rude. At the same time, though, the word’s force makes me wonder.

Beowulf is famed for having the might of many men in his grip. His deeds are all deeds of overcoming great odds against (mostly?) supernatural opponents. Beowulf is, at least in some ways, brute force personified. So then is he (or is the poet/scribe) trying to make that forcefulness come across in his speech as well?

Following the conventions of poetry is one thing, and a thing that Beowulf does more than the poet/scribe seems to as far as word-weaving’s concerned (he makes much greater use of interlacing his clauses), but surely words that carry such deep shades of force as “ðing” and “bene” indicate more than the speaker’s (and the poet/scribe’s) awareness of poetic convention.

As far as I know, there’s no pattern to the sounds used for alliteration. Perhaps it’s generally seen as poor form to have two consecutive lines with the same alliterating sound. But there are no hard and fast rules about ordering your alliteration scheme in Old English poetry as there are for, say, Renaissance or Victorian rhyme schemes. As such, any sound could have been chosen for these lines.

Although such interpretations of “ðing” and “bene” goes far too deep into authorial process (as well as authorial intent), I’m left wondering: What came first? Was it a word that gave rise to the line or the line that forced the poet/scribe into using a word that just sort of fit his/her intended meaning?

Since it’s nearly impossible to know for sure, I’ll choose to think that Beowulf is opting more for force than accuracy, more for strength than finesse. After all, Anglo-Saxons aren’t known for their lithe forms, erudite reasoning and appreciation of fine art and music.

As is to be expected in such a rhetorical passage as this, some words are curious cases.

The word that Beowulf uses when he talks about the kin of giants to say he’s “devastated” them for example, is “yðde” (a variation of the past form of “ieðan”).

But this word, like so many others in Old English doesn’t have just one meaning.

Along with meanings like “lay waste,” “ravage,” “devastate,” and “destroy,” this word means “to alleviate,” “be merciful.” Having such diverse meanings could be the result of the word’s appearing in different contexts in different Old English works.

However, it’s more interesting to wonder if the Anglo-Saxons had the idea that sometimes being merciful meant devastating something or someone. Monsters for instance. Surely, an existence outside of the love and purview of god was something that any thinking creature would want ended, right?

Such reasoning might stand for inhuman enemies, but, getting back to the previous section’s point about Beowulf brute-forcing his way through his speech, I can’t help but wonder if his using such a strong, double-edged word, leads him to qualify his devastating deeds (particularly those possibly against human enemies, the general “enemies of the Geats,”) as having been deserved (“such was the hope they summoned” (“wean ahsodon” (l.423))). If he is indeed qualifying his acts of violence, then perhaps Beowulf comes from a time of greater tolerance, a time in which the poem’s audience was less interested in wiping out those different from them.

Though there would always be plenty of room for enmity with giants, demons and wizards. In fact, why not roll them all into one word? The term “þyrse” would do nicely.

Yes, Old English has a single word that can mean “giant,” “demon,” or “wizard.” Now, these three things might seem distinct to us, but to a medieval mind (particularly an early medieval mind) they were likely much closer together.

Giants were believed to be enemies of god, a and the word could be a general term for the race of monsters that were the kin of Cain. It was also a handy term for unknown, powerful forces or enemies. In Layamon’s Brut, for example, the original settlers of Britain defeat the native giants before they claim the land.

Demons could have been giants. After all, they were the servants of Satan, the enemies of god, and therefore quite closely related to the kin of Cain. Save that, of course, they weren’t necessarily Cain’s kin. More like the family friend that Cain, in more modern times, might refer to as “uncle” or “aunt.”

And wizards famously enslaved demons to their wills. Surely someone who controlled demons must be somewhat demonic him or herself, right?

Also, wizards are wizards, so they could make themselves appear as giants or be cloaked in reputations of being unknown foes. Maybe they could even be referred to as giants in the general sense since they could be considered adopted members of the Cain family, those who have opted out of being sons of Seth and knowing god’s favour.

Next week, Beowulf proclaims his intent and explains just how he plans to deal with Grendel.

You can find the next part of Beowulf here.

On Danish welcomes and curious compounds (ll.381b-389a) [Old English]

Posted on 2014/05/23 by NSCZach

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Danish welcomes
The case of the curious compounds
Closing

Hrothgar finishes his command to Wulfgar, imploring him to make sure the Geats know that they’re welcome.

“‘He holy god
for our support has sent
to the West-Danes, this I believe,
against Grendel’s terror. I shall well reward
them with treasures for his courage.
Be thou in haste, go with this command,'”
that the peaceful host may hear it together.
Also give him word that they are welcome
in these Danish lands!'”
(Beowulf ll.381b-389a)

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

Hrothgar very clearly wishes to greet the Geats with glee. From his abbreviation of what he will reward Beowulf and the Geats for down to simply “his courage,” that much is clear. Hrothgar’s speech continues to be dusty (though I’ve done some modernizing with his syntax), but the energy in his speech nonetheless comes through. His line of thinking can even be seen.

It looks like it runs thusly:

Beowulf is rumoured to have the strength of thirty men in his grip and is famed in war (from last week’s translation and commentary). He is god-sent, and has courage, therefore he cannot fail and will be rewarded. Not to mention, we can prepare him for his fight with Grendel with a warm welcome.

But what if Hrothgar was not so inclined to the Geats? What if he had never heard of Beowulf, nor of his father? How does the Danish lord deal with those whom he believes to have no chance against Grendel?

Based on his imploring Wulfgar to make sure that the Geats know “that they are welcome/in these Danish lands!” (“þæt hie sint wilcuman/Deniga leodum.” (ll.388-389a) (which sounds almost as if he’s asking Wulfgar to communicate this welcome in every word), a cold reception would entail a cold welcome.

That sounds obvious enough.

But would that mean an ejection from the hall? An outright attack? The Geats have come quite heavily armed, after all. Such a violent reception could be expected. Though the Geats did respect whatever etiquette exists in putting their spears and shields to the side of the door when they came in. Swords may have been worn as a last line of defense, or as a mark of nobility, though, and so be perfectly allowed even in a hall. Or maybe the Geats didn’t want to drop their guard entirely. We aren’t exactly told that all of the Danes in the hall are wearing swords (or if any are, for that matter).

So a hostile reply would likely be a formal request to leave the hall and return whence they came.

In point of fact, aside from Wulfgar’s being told to warmly welcome them and that they’ll eventually be rewarded for their courage, we’re not really told what a warm Danish welcome entails. Is this the poet/scribe using some telling to set up a bunch of showing?

Old English compound words are usually very straightforward. There’s some phenomenon or item that is more specific than the usual words for it have connotation to cover and so two words are combined. For example, there’s “sorg” for sorrow, and then there’s “modsorg” for the more intense “heart-sorrow.”

Such compounds make sense because they are the sum of their parts.

But in this week’s passage there are two compound words that are more than the sum of their parts.

The word “arstæfum” is Old English for “support,” “assistance,” “kindness,” “benefit,” or “grace.” It is made up of “ar” (“servant,” “messenger,” “herald,” “apostle,” “angel”) and “stæfum” ((singular, stæf) “staff,” “stick,” “rod;” “pastoral staff;” “letter,” “character,” “writing;” “document;” “letters,” “literature,” “learning”). Maybe to Anglo-Saxon minds the herald or apostle of writing, literature, or learning are a support or a benefit, but I’m willing to bet that to most modern minds that connection isn’t as immediately made as “mod” and “sorg” being “heart-sorrow.”

Nonetheless, there is the religious and poetic combination of “benefit” (or “grace”) and “pastoral staff” which sounds like just what Hrothgar is talking about when he states his belief that Beowulf has been sent by god. So perhaps this word isn’t as literal a compound word as most others, but instead results from the combination of the senses of its two parts.

A similar case could be made for “mod-þræce” meaning “courage.”

This word is a combination of “mod” (“heart,” “mind,” “spirit,” “mood,” “temper;” “arrogance,” “pride,” “power;” “violence”) and “þræce” (“throng,” “pressure,” “fury,” “storm,” “violence,” “onrush,” “attack”). With such individual meanings combining it’s hard to see how these two words combine into one that means “courage.” Especially since modern everyday courage could be described as a “violence of the spirit,” but generally doesn’t happen in violent circumstances. As such, this compound sheds some light on the world from which it comes. Courage then may have included standing up to a bully as it does now, but then the follow through was much more likely to be a violent clash of one sort or another.

Though, that’s just one interpretation.

It’s also possible that combining such words to mean courage is meant to add a slightly negative connotation to the word. Perhaps “mod-þræce” isn’t intended to refer to a clean and tidy courage, but something more akin to the boldness of a berserk state. A kind of controlled fury. Something that even the poem’s early audiences well knew was dangerous, but that was also contained and controlled – for the most part.

Anyone with the strength of thirty men in his grip must have been considered at least a little bit monstrous even then after all.

Next week, Wulfgar rushes back to the Geats to relay Hrothgar’s message.

You can find the next part of Beowulf here.

On Hrothgar and "equipment" (ll.356-370) [Old English]

Posted on 2014/05/10 by NSCZach

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Hrothgar as depressed Dane
Noble customs and “equipment”
Closing

Wulfgar brings Beowulf’s petition to Hrothgar. His tone makes a positive reply seem like a long shot.

“Then quickly he turned, to face where Hrothgar sat,
old and hoar among the throng of his thanes;
he went to the one of honourable deeds, stood shoulder to shoulder
with the Danish lord: knew he their noble customs.
Wulfgar spoke to his friend and lord:
‘Here are those who came, who ventured
forth going over the sea from the Geatish lands;
their chief champion
they call Beowulf, he is the petitioner,
the one asking, my lord, if he might mix
words with you. Do not propose to deny
your reply, gracious Hrothgar:
by his war-gear I think their worth
that of esteemed warriors; indeed he seems dependable,
the one warrior who has lead them so far.'”
(Beowulf ll.356-370)

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

Is this speech a sign of Wulfgar’s knowledge of the Dane’s “duguðe þeaw,” (“noble customs” (l.359)) or is it an honest plea to a forlorn lord?

The honorifics (“my lord” (“þeoden min” (l.365)), “gracious Hrothgar” (“glædman Hroðgar” (l.367))) seem like things said as parts of Wulfgar’s addressing Hrothgar. They sound like what’s required of someone lower speaking to the highest ranking individual in the Dane’s hierarchy.

But, it’s hard to read Wulfgar’s imploring Hrothgar to “not propose to deny/your reply” (“No ðu him wearne geteoh/ðinra gegncwida” (ll.366-67)) without hearing an imploring note. There’s something in those words that speaks to the Dane’s desperation. Perhaps Hrothgar has fallen into a depression after seeing so many warriors fall to Grendel’s might. Or, as Neil Gaiman would have it, Hrothgar is covering up some past misdeed of his with sorrow.

I believe that Hrothgar has fallen victim to depression.

Sitting amongst his warriors he’s no doubt reminded of how he valiantly fought to bring peace to his lands. And, being surrounded by those who are enjoying themselves in Heorot, he is no doubt reminded of the efforts that went into the construction of that glittering mead hall. And yet, empty seats all around him bring phantoms into his vision, ghosts of the past that hang off of his memory like overripe apples heavy with both savour and with worms.

Anyone in that state of mind is likely to wave away petitioners and those willing to help without a further thought. Hrothgar seems to have no reason to look out from the past, he has nothing to look forward too, after all.

Anyone in that sort of state would need someone like Wulfgar to talk them back to the present. Someone to inspire some hope in them, as Wulfgar attempts to. And, as we’ll see next week, there are hints that Wulfgar’s mentioning Beowulf’s name and his merit in bringing his fellow Geats so far that the attempt is successful. Hrothgar brightens – but stays well within the bounds of the customs of the nobility.

As high and noble as the customs of a ruling host may be, they bear a striking resemblance to the customs of modern day politicians. Both are full of seemingly empty words.

At least for our scholarly purposes, there aren’t many words of great interest in Wulfgar’s speech.

Even the words used for “noble customs” (l.359), “duguðe þeaw,” isn’t necessarily all that interesting.

The first word in the pair means “body of noble retainers, people, host, the heavenly host, strength,” and the second means “usage, custom, morals, morality.” So, like most other systems of conduct, there’s a suggestion of the Danes’ system having a higher origin (translating the phrase as “the custom of the heavenly host”). There’s also, perhaps reflecting poorly on Beowulf‘s time to our modern eyes, the translation “the custom of strength,” that could be construed as “might makes right.” Curious how heaven and power have that sort of relation – however distant.

More interesting in an archaic sort of way, part of the word “getawum” (“war-gear” (l.368)) once had a different meaning. This sense of “taw-u,” the root of “getawum,” once meant “genitalia” (along with “apparatus, and “implement”). But, even to Beowulf‘s early audiences, I’m willing to guess whatever sense of “genitalia” was inherent in “getawum” was a distant echo, something that only the scholarly among them would catch.

Nonetheless, maybe this sense (or the spirit?) of “getawum,” after some major transformations, came to rest in modern euphemisms like “bait and tackle.”

Next week we hear Hrothgar’s whispered reply to Wulfgar, and perhaps see the first stirrings of hope in this downcast ruler of a people.

You can find the next part of Beowulf here.

Progressive early medieval religion and why that word? (ll.348-355) [Old English]

Posted on 2014/04/25 by NSCZach

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Going deep into a short passage
Wulfgar’s wisdom
Closing

Wulfgar gives a bureaucratic and ordered reply to Beowulf’s request.

“Wulfgar spoke: a Wendel man,
well known for his heart-thought,
of war and of wisdom: “‘I the friend of Danes
will inquire of our shield,
giver of rings, as thou art a petitioner,
of that famed lord, about your journey,
and then the answer I shall convey immediately,
that I may speak as it so pleases him.'”
(Beowulf ll.348-355)

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

This week’s passage is no shorter than last week’s, but it seems less dense. Maybe I see it this way because Wulfgar isn’t a character of action.

Presented in his role as Hrothgar’s herald, he is very definitely installed in the Danes’ hierarchy and his actions are defined by his place in it. Therefore, his actions seem less interesting than Beowulf’s since he isn’t acting as an outsider trying to get into the Danes’ society. Instead he is already very much an integral part of that society.

That said, Wulfgar is portrayed as a nearly perfect front for Hrothgar. We’re not given much of his conduct, but it’s easy to picture (quite anachronistically) Wulfgar dressed up in a suit with a smartphone and briefcase acting as Hrothgar’s PR guy. Beowulf has put in a petition and Wulfgar’s now about to send this request up the line since he sees nothing wrong with it.

Speaking less anachronistically, you could make the case that this relationship, free from emotion as it appears to be, mimics that of god and god’s scribe in the Hebrew tradition: The angel Metatron.

Of course, Hrothgar’s realm being ravaged by Grendel does not make him out to be a very capable god. Though it is interesting to think of that situation representing the poet/scribe’s take on the pagan gods of the Anglo-Saxons: Old, hoary men who have passed their glory years and are in need of a hero to come in and save them – and eventually to supersede them.

It’s jumping quite a ways ahead, but there are some who believe that Beowulf is a kind of Christ figure at points in the poem. Combine that with the Anglo-Saxons’ taste for the story of Exodus (and no doubt god’s struggle against rival gods in that book and the rest of the Old Testament) and it’s rather tempting to see Beowulf as the Anglo-Saxons’ take on a hunky young god going around showing up and taking down all of the other gods among which people’s attentions are split.

Of course, for this reading of Beowulf to work entirely you’d need to figure out what the God-Beowulf’s very definite death could mean. Maybe the Anglo-Saxons, with a concept that their own gods could pale and die in comparison with the Christian god also believed that eventually the same would happen to that new Christian deity.

Of course, that’s nothing but pure speculation. The sort of speculation that has little to no basis in what we know about Anglo-Saxon religion, since it’s hard to say who first uttered the thought that Neitszche would write at the end of the nineteenth century, “God is dead.”

Getting back to Wulfgar and his role as Hrothgar’s herald. Wulfgar’s entirely by the book. He says that he’ll ask for Hrothgar’s take on the matter (using all due honorifics), that he’ll bring answer back immediately, and then that he’ll speak as it so pleases Hrothgar. The poet/scribe really goes all in to show just how fastidious Wulfgar is in all this.

So much so that I don’t think the translation of of “mod-sefa” as simply “thought” is good enough.

Instead, I think this is a situation that calls for a literal translation from “mod-sefa” to “heart-thought.”

Why? (You may ask.)

Because of the clause that follows: “of war and of wisdom” (“wig ond wisdom” (l.350)). Being renowned for “thought” just doesn’t suggest a man who is supposed to be wise in the matters of both war and of peace. Instead something that strikes a bit deeper, like “heart-thought” seems better suited. Not because his thoughts are necessarily borne of passion, but because they are a combination of instinct and reason.

This interpretation of “mod-sefa”s meaning might be a bit much, but I really think that’s what the word means in situations like this.

Although it’s not stated, Wulfgar is likely an older man, one who has seen many battles at Hrothgar’s side and no doubt been with him for many social functions. As such I think it’s safe to say that he has internalized a great deal of knowledge. With such a store of knowledge, much of it is likely instinctual, and so Wulfgar’s able to bring it forth from his instinct and then temper it with his reason. Thereby making his council sharp as a sword and tough as steel plate.

“Heart-thought” seems the perfect fit.

Next week, Wulfgar delivers Beowulf’s request (in a passage longer than eight lines!).

You can find the next part of Beowulf here.

Beowulf’s rhetoric (ll.340-347) [Old English]

Posted on 2014/04/19 by NSCZach

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Introductory patterns
Is there a mic in that helmet?
Closing

Beowulf replies to Wulfgar with his origins, but masks his purpose with formality.

“‘One man among them courageously answered,
the proud man of the Weders, spoke after those words,
bold beneath his helm: “We are Hygelac’s
table-companions; Beowulf is my name.
I will explain to the son of Halfdane,
that famed lord, my errand,
your prince, if he will grant us such,
that we may greet him graciously.'”
(Beowulf ll.340-347)

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

Despite the brevity of this passage, there are some things that can be said about it.

Not the least of which is the continuation of a pattern we’ve seen before.

In 6 February’s entry (in which Beowulf introduces himself to the coastguard, ll258-269), we saw that Beowulf didn’t just say outright “I am Beowulf.” Instead he introduced his group as friends of Hygelac’s, and then introduced himself primarily through his father.

Once again, Beowulf introduces the group first, with a similar line explaining their relationship with Hygelac (l.342). But then, instead of introducing his father and merely claiming to be his son, we hear Beowulf say for the first time in the poem that takes his name, “Beowulf is my name” (“Beowulf is min nama” (l.343)).

Surely the herald of a great prince like Hrothgar commands more respect than a coastguard?

So then why does Beowulf simply give his own name (a name which makes no reference to his father)?

My theory is that this has to do with the intimacy of the hall setting.

Although this conversation is still very formalized, Heorot is nonetheless a place of leisure. It’s where Hrothgar and his thanes hang out and trade treasures and stories between battles and forays. The hall would even draw strangers into Hrothgar’s hospitality, at least, were it not for Grendel. As such, Beowulf has no need to show his “son of” card just yet.

Even so, the other curious thing about Beowulf’s shift in tone is that he keeps his purpose for from Hrothgar’s herald. Instead of declaiming for all to hear, “I am Beowulf! I’m here to kill your monster” (as a cg’d Ray Winstone did), he says that he’ll reveal just what his purpose is when he speaks to Hrothgar.

I think this feint is meant to show Beowulf’s social acumen. In a hall besieged for twelve years by some seemingly invincible terror, anyone (especially anyone as young as Beowulf’s supposed to be here) coming around claiming to be there to deal with Grendel is likely not going to be believed. Likely, for most of those twelve years such an approach hasn’t been useful. Those who did come in with boasts blaring were probably laughed out of the hall.

And once you’ve been laughed out of something it’s all the harder to win glory there.

All the more so if you appear ridiculous. It might seem Beowulf would were he still wearing his helmet, as the poet suggests on line 342. But this detail appears to bolster his position.

Maybe it’s all just to keep building up the mystery around these Geats among the Danes. The Geats’ helmets are supposed to have cheek-guards, and you’d think that they would protect the helmet’s wearer from sight as well as blows.

Or perhaps the poet is engaging in a bit of embellishment. Painting Beowulf into a bit of a caricature of a warrior. He keeps his helmet on so that he can be ever vigilant. Or maybe because it’s simply the outfit of a warrior and keeping his helmet on shows Beowulf’s seriousness.

Regardless, I definitely think it’s a poetic detail. Though his speaking “bold[ly] beneath his helm” could well be an image of sorts, suggesting that Beowulf spoke as deeply as if he were wearing a helmet. Maybe there’s even something about Beowulf’s tone itself being a source of protection in such an image.

Next week, Wulfgar takes Beowulf’s message and departs.

You can find the next part of Beowulf here.

Exile and bandits’ weapon of choice (ll.331b-339) [Old English]

Posted on 2014/04/12 by NSCZach

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Finding community among exiles?
A word for spear
Closing

Hrothgar’s herald questions the Geats’ origins.

“Then a proud warrior
asked after those men’s origins:
‘Where come ye of the anointed shields,
shirts of grey mail and visored helms,
this crowd of spears? I am Hrothgar’s
herald and officer. Never saw I this many men
from far away of such high spirits.
It seems to me that you for glory, not at all for exile,
yay for courage have sought out Hrothgar.'”
(Beowulf ll.331b-339)

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

Hrothgar’s herald says something more than passing strange in what seems to be passing. On lines 336 to 337 he states that he has “Never [seen] this many men/from far away of such high spirits” (“Ne seah ic elþeodige/þus manige men modiglicran”).

Given the fact that challengers to Grendel have probably dried up over the past twelve years of his reign of terror, it’s fair to say that this man’s probably not seen many foreigners lately.

Even when heroes in waiting were coming by Heorot, they were probably more grim and serious than the apparently boisterous Geats (though we’re not really told this – maybe they were like giddy teenagers in the presence of some musical idol, all jostling together and too nervous to speak, and that’s what their weapons jostling last week was all about).

So the herald probably speaks true. He never has seen so many foreigners and in such high spirits.

But the word he uses for foreigners (“elþeodige”) could also be translated as “exiled people.”

The difference between “foreigners” and “exiled people” may seem slight, perhaps. But if the herald mentions exiles here then his assertion just a few lines later that these men are not here for exile makes much more sense.

Translating “elþeodige” as “exiled people” also paints a curious picture.

The image of a group of exiles is, strangely, the perfect representation of the importance of community to Anglo-Saxons. Among them, exile was considered a fate worse than death.

Partially because being exiled meant that you lost your social standing and whatever came with it. But at least as much as that if not more, exile meant that you were cut off from the people with whom you shared an ipso facto relationship through blood. You didn’t earn their trust, nor did you work for their friendship – ties of kinship were supposed to be the reliable ties that saw you through the hardships of life.

Being exiled cut you off from all of that, but at the same time, it wouldn’t be impossible for exiles to meet while in their respective outcast states. That a group of exiles would find each other, and, one can only assume, band together under the common aegis of their exiles shows just how important having a group and belonging was.

All of that said, whether or not such a hypothetical band of exiles would be in high spirits because they had found new community is hard to say.

It’s possible that their common state would cause these exiles to form a strong bond in which case high spirits would definitely be possible.

Though it’s also possible that though their respective communities no longer regard them as members, the exiles would still see themselves as Angles, or Saxons, or Danes, or Geats. In which case, they would likely still hold the prejudices of these groups.

Whatever the case with such a group of exiles is, either their numbers or their spirits were great enough for Hrothgar’s herald to believe these Geats before him to be not exiles but something else.

Another extract, and another batch of crazy words. The craziest this week, though, has got to be “here-sceaft.”

The second part of this compound word for “spear” might look familiar. It’s the word that eventually became the name of a famed and funky 70s private detective. Shaft.

But the first part of “here-sceaft” is where meanings become bizarre. Standing alone, this word could mean “troop,” “army,” “host,” “multitude,” or “predatory band.”

So the spear is very much the common man’s weapon. All right. But then, since “here” can mean “predatory band” is it also the weapon of choice for bandits and thieves?

Logically, the answer would have to be yes.

If a spear was something that you could easily come by in Anglo Saxon England, then certainly it would be the scoff-law’s preferred weapon. Swords certainly wouldn’t be lying around, that’s for sure.

Actually, pushing logic a bit further, is it possible that swords were harder to come by simply because smiths who could work such large pieces of metal were hard to come by? Or, more likely, forges that could get such a lump of metal hot enough were rare?

Because making a spear requires making nothing more than a little pointy hat for a stick (or you could forgo the hat and shave the stick to a sharp point).

Given the fact that the resources consumed in making a sword were that much greater than those used for a simple spear really makes me wonder if associating the spear with bandits (even at the level of language like “here-sceaft”) and the commons was just another thing that elevated the sword to the point where it became a prestigious and noble weapon.

Clearly, if “here-sceaft” has the potential for negative connotations as I believe it does, then the cultural elevation of the sword had happened long before Beowulf was written.

But then, when?

At the very moment that someone working their forge to ridiculous heats threw in big long chunks of metal and wound up with something no other forge-user in the area ever thought possible?

When technology and manufacturing are so unrestricted as they are today it’s hard to imagine something so simple as a long pointy piece of sharpened metal being impressive, but it certainly would’ve been when making such things was harder.

And it’s easy to see, then, that something as low-tech as a spear could be associated with “predatory bands.”

Next week, Beowulf answers Hrothgar’s herald.

You can find the next part of Beowulf here.

Speculation along the way to Heorot (ll.301-311) [Old English]

Posted on 2014/03/21 by NSCZach

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Gold as guardian
Of ships and mothers
Closing

The coastguard leads Beowulf and his entourage to Heorot.

“They went upon their way. The boat was bound,
the capacious craft tethered with cord,
secure at anchor. Boar-shapes shone
atop their cheek guards; ornamented gold,
glistening and firmament firm, securely held life:
war-hearted grim men. They all hurried onward,
going down together, until from that high hall of a building,
ornamented and gold-dappled for all to see
that it was foremost among humanity of all
the buildings beneath heaven, the ruler called for them;
light of the people over so great a land.”
(Beowulf ll.301-311)

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

Gold is pretty prevalent in this passage. It’d be easy just to dismiss the metal’s shining presence in the Geats’ helmets and on Heorot as indicators of wealth and prestige, but I think there’s more to it than that. Of course.

In both of these instances I think that the gold is present in the helmet and the hall as a ward against harm. Or maybe as an outward show of the value of the people under the helmets and in the hall.

Putting a monetary value on a life or a major injury isn’t something modern. The Anglo-Saxons had a law covering the same thing that required the perpetrator to pay their victim (or, in the case of murder, the victim’s next of kin) a fee called “wergild.” The major purpose of this fee was to stem the outbreak of feuds and to bring disparate groups together into a group that extended beyond family ties.

It’s a bit broad, but literally translated, “wergild” becomes “man price.”

This is where this theory gets a little crazy, mostly because of timing issues. If the concept of we-gild had been around for a few generations before Beowulf was put together/originally written, then what would stop payments from becoming a preventative measure? Once it was so established, it’s not much further to get to a point where the association of gold with prevention of harm takes on a magical or superstitious flavour.

With such perception of gold as a protective metal in the culture, it would make good sense for it to adorn helmet and horn alike. Thus, pointing out the gold in the helmets and in Heorot’s exterior firmly establishes the protective properties of both.

However, in this passage, I think that a contrast is implied.

If gold is a metal that the Anglo-Saxons of Beowulf’s time believed to have protective properties then it’s already clear to the audience that it hasn’t worked so well for Heorot. The mention of gold being in the Geats’ helmets, then, calls into question just how effective they’ll be in guarding their lives. It’s also possible to read the failure of Heorot’s golden exterior as evidence for Grendel’s chaotic influence. His presence as a kin of Cain causes the proper function of gold to cease.

If all of this rang true for the poem’s original audience, then it’s hard to believe how much more anticipation there would have been for the fight once Beowulf reveals that he’ll faced Grendel completely unarmed. Heck, you could even say that if all this is true and Grendel’s power to negate weapons extends to negating the protective properties of gold, then Beowulf’s facing him with his bare hands alone evens the field all the more.

“Capacious” of line 302 is, in Old English, “wide-bosomed,” or “sidfæþmed.”

While a modern interpretation of “wide-bosomed” might be simply “large breasted,” the two definitions of “sidfæþmed” suggest that the Anglo-Saxons regarded it as more a matter of volume than size. Considering that all children of the period were nursed, this is hardly surprising. The greater capacity a mother had for milk the more nourishment her child would get, giving that child a better chance to make it through childhood and come into healthy adolescence.

How that relates to a ship is beyond me, except for the idea that travelling in comfort is better than travelling in a cramped space. Plus, a boat with some room would make rowing much easier. Easier rowing means faster travel. So a capacious boat is definitely optimal.

Getting back to this passage in particular, what can be made of the repeat mentions of Beowulf’s boat being securely tethered?

Running with the connection between mothers and boats via “sidfæþmed,” and taking along for the jog the tradition of referring to boats with feminine pronouns, Beowulf’s boat could be regarded as his anima being securely left behind, enabling him to act without sentiment, if necessary. If you want to take the Jungian tack.

Much more straightforward is the interpretation that Beowulf’s ship is his only means of getting him back to his homeland. As such, its security is of the utmost importance.

Or, it could symbolize his identity as a true Geat. If he had no way of getting back home, his liege Hygelac could think him dead or gone native, erasing his status as outsider among the Danes and making him a quasi-exile.

Next week, the coastguard takes the Geats to Heorot’s doors and then takes his leave.

You can find the next part of Beowulf here.

Beowulf’s promise (ll.277b-285) [Old English]

Posted on 2014/02/28 by NSCZach

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Beowulf’s Ultimatum
Cooling cares
Closing

Beowulf concludes his speech to the Danish coastguard.

“‘That I might teach Hrothgar
through the counsel of a broad mind,
how he the wise and good could overcome that fiend —
if he ever should end
this ruinous trouble, relief will come after —
and his cares shall turn cool;
Else ever after shall be times of sorrow,
endure distress, all while that greatest
of houses is forced to make do in its high place.'”
(Beowulf ll.277b-285)

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

So here’s the final piece of Beowulf’s speech. He’s introduced himself, spoken about his mission, and stated that he is the one that can kill Grendel. But there’s something strange about his phrasing.

Line 283 starts with the harsh conjunction “else” (“oððe a syþðan”). I call it a harsh conjunction because “else” always indicates a sharp turn in topic and tone. The phrase “or else” is so dramatic that contemporary culture’s love of irony has made it fodder for comedy, but “oððe” wasn’t something to take lightly back in the day.

I’ve translated the phrase “oððe a syþðan” as “else” because such is the simplest way to do so.

Looked at literally, a translation would be “and/until forever afterward.” Using “and” rather than “until” gives the same sense as “else” since it still indicates a sharp turn away from what was said before. Even so, there’s not really any other way to take the phrase “until forever afterward,” than “else”; what better word is there to convey something that will happen until the time “forever” is reached?

So, getting back to Beowulf’s phrasing. It seems that the conclusion to his speech is as much a boast as it is a statement of fact. But that’s important, here.

As Beowulf is speaking the coastguard is measuring him up against the terror of Grendel. Ending on what is really an ultimatum shows that Beowulf can be a match to that terror. For what could be more terrifying than to be told that if this latest of many wishing to attempt a daring feat can’t accomplish it no one can?

Thus, Beowulf’s phrasing is certainly intentional and persuasive. It shows that Beowulf knows about the others who have come before him and uses this knowledge to his advantage.

Such an ultimatum wouldn’t work if he was the first to come challenge Grendel. But, since many have tried and failed before him, his threat that he is the Danes’ final hope is much more believable. It could even be that the line of hopeful heroes has dwindled down to nothing of late, and Beowulf is the first to be seen for some time, making Beowulf’s threat/boast all the more effective.

Care and the heart go hand in hand. Poetically, at least.

And the heart is poetically linked to temperature. Kind people are warm hearted, misers are cold hearted. Fear can be described as having your blood run cold and if you find yourself in anger’s grasp some might say the very blood in your veins is boiling.

However, on line 282, Beowulf uses an image that suggests that care itself once had some connection to temperature.

“And his cares shall turn cool” (“ond þa cear-wylmas colran wurðaþ”).

That Beowulf notes that he can cool the cares of Hrothgar shows, once again, his knowledge of the situation.

Sure, Grendel is definitely foremost among Hrothgar’s cares, but going beyond stating that he’ll simply kill the monster that’s terrorizing the Danes really makes it clear that Beowulf isn’t looking for glory alone.

Keeping in mind the fact that the people that he is here to help really makes it clear that he can and will keep their interests in mind. He will respect their customs and regard their ways as he strives to maintain them.

Closing the positive possibility of his defeating Grendel with the image of cooling the Danes’ cares is really quite powerful. It shows Beowulf’s concern with the effect of his success as well as the mission itself.

Next week, the coastguard gives Beowulf his answer.

You can find the next part of Beowulf here.

What’s found in Beowulf’s word hoard (ll.258-269) [Old English]

Posted on 2014/02/07 by NSCZach

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Beowulf’s credentials
Words from the hoard
Closing

Beowulf unlocks his word hoard, and begins to answer the coastguard’s concerns.

“The eldest answered him,
with the wisdom of the band, unlocked his word hoard:
‘We are kin of the Geatish people
and of Hygelac’s **hearth retainers;
His people knew my father,
a noble progenitor known as Ecgtheow, –
he commanded many winters, before he went on his way,
full of years; each man of counsel
on the wide earth takes heed of him.
We through care of the worries of your lord,
son of Halfdane, have come seeking,
the protector of your people; your exhortation to us is great!'”
(Beowulf ll.258-269)

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

Being the main character’s first speech, this extract is surprisingly straightforward.

We get the poet introducing the speaker with a description of him and his answer rather than a name. We hear Beowulf tell the guard who they are, who they serve, who he is, and who his father is.

Hold on a second.

It’s standard in old heroic stories that people introduce themselves with mentions of their connections. But placing the fealty connection so close to the blood connection creates a parallel that carries some weight.

In defining who they are, Beowulf says that they are “Hygelac’s hearth retainers.” In defining who he is, he says that Ecgtheow is his father. But, no doubt with a characteristic wry smile, the poet has for more than ten lines ignored the guard’s admonishment from last week’s extract: “haste is best
in saying why you are come hence'” (“Ofost is selest/to gecyðanne hwanan eowre cyme syndon” (ll.256-57)).

So why spend so many lines introducing himself so indirectly? In part because of tradition. But also, I think, because the credentials that Beowulf lays down are of the utmost importance.

Hygelac is a great war leader from what little we’ve learned of him so far. And, from what Beowulf says, his father is a famed tactician. Along with wanting to show the guard just what he’s all about, I think Beowulf mentions these two men in the way that he does to communicate that he combines these qualities. Qualities that until now have appeared separately in all of those who have come to face Grendel.

The combination of a warrior’s spirit and a commander’s mind (also, a commander who survived for a long time, suggesting, in one way, that Ecgtheow was able to delay death itself) would surely be seen as what was needed to destroy Grendel.

What, then, can be said for the order of Beowulf’s laying down his credentials? Why not put his father first and his people second?

I think it’s a move meant to show humility, that Beowulf is not out to serve himself, but instead in the service of a whole people.

Again, much like the reference to a warrior like Hygelac, I believe this is meant to show Beowulf’s courage or strength of heart. What he fights for is not personal gain, but the benefit of whole groups of people. That makes him the perfect candidate for defeating Grendel, since he has the moral high ground against a monster that the poet has called kin of Cain, a lineage that marks him with grand immorality.

At least, as far as kinship ties go. If Beowulf’s ties bring in longevity, battle strength, and cunning, Grendel’s brings in murderousness, gluttony, and rage.

Some wondrous words are used in this passage.

“Yldest” (l.257) is usually fairly straightforward. It simply means “oldest,” or “chief.” In the context in which it appears here, this latter definition makes fine sense. And the probe into this word’s meaning could end there.

But if it’s taken to mean the “oldest,” then just how young are Beowulf’s companions?

As he is the hero of the story, it’s easy to see Beowulf as a young man who stands on an established reputation for prowess. But being reminded of the rest of his band like this makes that perception shaky. Especially if this trip is a means for Beowulf to come of age and prove his worth. Such a test seems tailored to someone in his teens. Does that mean that his companions are hardly able to grow beards? Or is the age difference just a matter of months?

Interpreting the word as “chief” is clearer, but why have a word that could mean either “oldest” or “chief”?

This dual definition implies a connection between the two, certainly.

And why not? seniority and authority often go together quite well, especially in medieval societies. Still, the connection one way makes me wonder if it could go the other way as well. If Beowulf is the oldest he can be the chief, but if he is the chief does that mean that he is, necessarily, the oldest?

Another curious compound appears in this passage, too. It’s the word translated as “hearth retainers” in line 261 above: “heorð-geneatas,” a combination of “heorð” (meaning “hearth”) and “neat” (meaning “companion, follower (esp. in war); dependent, vassal; tenant who works for a lord”). Because of the range of options for “geneatas,” the meaning of this one is difficult to bring out in Modern English.

Much like “hall hero”, I think that “hearth retainers” is a solid translation. This new compound gets across that those meant are close to the one they serve and that their master has given them job security of some sort – keeping them on retainer.

Next week, Beowulf continues to speak. Come on by this blog on Thursday to listen!

You can find the next part of Beowulf here.

On the coastguard and Anglo-Saxon nationalism (ll.237-247a) [Old English]

Posted on 2014/01/24 by NSCZach

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
An idea of nationalism
The bureaucratic border guard
Closing

The Danish coastguard begins his speech to the newly arrived Geats.

“What are ye gear-havers,
wearers of corselets, that thus laden
in a high ship come over the sea-street,
hither with the waves? I am set
as border guard, to keep this isle hold watched,
So that no loathed ones may batter this
Danish land with naval force.
Never in known memory have any
come so openly bearing shields; nor do you
seem eager to get a word of permission from this watchman,
a Dane’s consent.”
(Beowulf ll.237-247a)

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

This passage really says a lot about the conception of nationhood that the poet/scribe was working with. Or, that the poet/scribe wanted to portray.

On line 241, the coastguard is referred to as “endesæta.” Clark Hall and Meritt translate this compound as “border-watchman.” Taken separately, the word “ende” translates as “border, edge,” and “sæta” could be a form of the verb “sittan” meaning “to sit” or it could mean “sitter.” So a more modern spin on this compound would be “border-sitter.”

What this little word says about conceptions of nationhood is this: A nation’s land comes down to what it can directly control or patrol.

This lone Dane is out on the coast making sure that no-one sneaks up on the rest of his people, yes. But, his being at the coast also extends the purview of the Danish people so long as he remains connected to the whole (something that is implied when he sends the Geats speedily on to the interior, where Hrothgar is). However, such a conception of borders or limits is essentially one that relies much more heavily on social constructions than on any sort of physical marker.

In one sense, the Danes don’t extend their rule into the sea, but at the same time, their representative at the coast is policing incoming traffic. Not that he can do anything about visitors until they land, but he is nonetheless watching the sea and anticipating threats to the Danes more generally.

At any rate this sense of nationhood is most curious because of its portable nature. Aside from Heorot, the Danes have no constructed physical indicator of their borders. Like the Israelites, or the Anglo-Saxons, they are a people because of their familial and loyalty ties rather than a shared, fixed land.

The Watchman’s last set of statements seems strange without the other half of his speech. Jumping ahead for a second, his “Never…nor” (“No…ne” (ll.244-246)) statement reflects how impressed he is by the Geats’ leader.

More immediately, and sticking to this excerpt, though, mentioning the Geats’ not seeking Danish permission to land seems strangely bureaucratic for a bunch of warrior-adventurers.

Nonetheless, having to ask permission at a border to disembark makes sense. Having to deal with one foreigner within your lands would be much easier than having to manage a boatload of them. It’s no doubt easier for a tribe like the Danes to trust one foreigner at a time when first meeting them, too.

What makes this part of the extract stand out, though, is just the plain shock that comes across in the Danish watchman’s statement. Perhaps he has been coastguard for so long that procedure is something he holds dear because it’s all the human interaction he gets. After all, as a coastguard, he’s hardly in exile, but he’s not exactly back at the hall enjoying the friendly boasting and the mead there.

Alternatively, this could be a reflection of this coastguard’s inexperience. He’s so green that he shakes his spear before he begins to speak not to intimidate, but because of his nervousness. And he makes a statement about the Geats’ lack of respect for protocol because he’s never had to deal with such impatience before.

Given the Dane’s situation, though, it’s not likely that even the newest of their coastguards would be without a good knowledge of warriors landing at the coast. Surely, more than a few have stopped by to try their hands at Grendel. Nonetheless, be he old hand, or greenhorn, the awe expressed in the coastguard’s pointing out the Geats’ eagerness comes across quite clearly. And it sounds genuine to boot.

Clearly Beowulf has made a good first impression.

Next week, check back for the second part of the coastguard’s speech.

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: Grendel

Beowulf’s forceful resumé and multi-purpose words (ll.419-428)

On Danish welcomes and curious compounds (ll.381b-389a) [Old English]

On Hrothgar and "equipment" (ll.356-370) [Old English]

Progressive early medieval religion and why that word? (ll.348-355) [Old English]

Beowulf’s rhetoric (ll.340-347) [Old English]

Exile and bandits’ weapon of choice (ll.331b-339) [Old English]

Speculation along the way to Heorot (ll.301-311) [Old English]

Beowulf’s promise (ll.277b-285) [Old English]

What’s found in Beowulf’s word hoard (ll.258-269) [Old English]

On the coastguard and Anglo-Saxon nationalism (ll.237-247a) [Old English]