A Co-ordinated Dragon Kill [ll.2688-2705] (Old English)

Posted on 2012/06/29 by NSCZach

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
When Words Flash, Sharp as Swords
A Matter of Succession
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*.}

Thanks to a team effort, Beowulf and Wiglaf bring down the dragon.

“Then the ravager of a people for a third time,
the terrible fire dragon intent on a hostile deed,
rushed on that renowned one when for him the opportunity
permitted, hot and battle fierce. All of his neck was
clasped by sharp tusks; he was made to become bloody
with ichor, gore in waves surged out.
Then, as I have heard, the soldier by his side showed
known courage for his liege lord,
strength and boldness, as was inborn.
He worked not upon the head, but the hand of that daring
man was burned, when he his kin helped by striking
a little lower at the strife-stranger with blade full
of cunning, so that the decorated sword, gleaming and
gold-adorned, stuck in the beast’s stomach so that the
fire began to abate afterwards. Then once more the king
himself wielded his wit, brandished a hip-blade, bitter
and battle-sharp, that he wore on his byrnie;
the protector of the Weders cleaved the dragon in its
middle.”
(Beowulf ll.2688-2705)

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

The words here are definitely meant to mimic the flashing of blades. The exact words are different, of course, being translated, but the description of the duo’s weapons and their working is preserved.

The descriptive phrases “sword full of cunning, so that the decorated sword,/gleaming and gold-adorned” (“þæt ðæt sweord gedēaf,/
fāh ond fǣted” (ll.2700-2701)) and “brandished a hip-blade,/bitter and battle-sharp,” (“wællseaxe gebrǣd/biter ond beaduscearp” (ll.2703-2704)) in both Englishes still give a vivid image of steel being swung or stabbing, all the while glittering with either jewels or fatal intent.

Such description and rhetorical use of language is effective here because it brings listeners/readers into the action of the poem while also reminding them of the extreme danger of the dragon. After all, the gleam of Wiglaf’s sword is likely as much due to whatever natural light is available as it is to the dragon’s fire illuminating it; and Beowulf’s “bitter and battle-sharp” dagger, drawn with wit, reminds us of the kind of cunning required to slay something so ancient, deadly, and tricky in its own right.

If there was ever a history of Wiglaf penned by a monk or sung by a bard, and if that history involved a successor, it would not be surprising if Wiglaf’s successor helped him win his final battle.

Kingship is something that needs to be continuous, lest a contest for the throne result in the destruction of a house, much like the case of Haethcyn and Herebeald. And there is no better way to pass on kingship than to slay a dragon with your successor.

In fact, if the line of kings is regarded as a kind of chain, Wiglaf’s selfless stabbing of the dragon below its armored head is exactly where his link connects to that of Beowulf as the poem’s hero rallies and defeats the dragon, drawing his own link on the chain of kingship (and, *spoilers* his life */spoilers*) to a close.

But Neil Gaiman wasn’t far from the mark when he has Wiglaf succeed Beowulf, for although it may be short lived, Wiglaf’s succession of Beowulf is exactly what this team effort solidifies.

Next week, Beowulf gazes at the dead dragon’s treasure cave.

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 Chatty Wiglaf and an Encouraged Beowulf [ll.2661-2672a] (Old English)

Posted on 2012/06/15 by NSCZach

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Wiglaf: The Chatty Youth
An Early Ascension Speech?
Closing

{Just what the dragon’s doing while Wiglaf stages his dramatic entrance. Image from Quest for Glory V concept art at RPGamer.com}

Wiglaf rushes over to Beowulf, and reassures him that his glory will not falter for this difficulty. But, just as Wiglaf finishes his short speech, the dragon starts back towards the pair.

“Advanced he then through that deadly smoke, in helmet
he bore to the lord his help, few words he spoke:
‘Dear Beowulf, perform all well,
just as you in youth long ago said
that you would not allow while you are alive
your glory to decline; You shall now in deed be famous,
resolute prince, all strength
your life to defend; I you shall help.’
After that word the serpent angry came,
the terrible malicious alien from another time
glowing in surging fire attacked his enemy,
hateful of men.”
(Beowulf ll.2661-2672a)

Old English:

Modern English:

Wiglaf is a very strange character. It’s not that his name is odd (aside from what’s been said before, what could naming someone “war heirloom” mean, anyway?), or that his introduction is hastily foisted onto an explanation of his equipment, but that he gets so many lines of dialog.

After all, considering the length of this poem, there really isn’t that much dialog.

Hrothgar and Beowulf have some long speeches, but they’re both in the poem for a substantial amount of time, while Wiglaf is only prominently featured in the last 500 lines or so.

So, why does Wiglaf have such a major speaking role relative to the length of his presence in the poem?

It could be that speech is shorthand for the kind of thing that his generation of Geats excels in. That the rest of his fellow thanes ran away when Beowulf’s distress became clear is a clear mark of this. Or it could be that Wiglaf, as someone who hasn’t yet seen real battle and killed with his own sword, primarily interacts with the world through speech rather than weaponry.

But then, one thing still stands out.

In almost every instance of Beowulf, the poem’s other major hero, talking, he does it in response to other characters’ actions. He answers Unferth’s challenge to his valor (ll.529-606), he boasts to Wealhtheow when she presents him with a drinking cup (ll.628-638), and he retells his exploits in Daneland when Hygelac asks for a tale of his adventures (ll.1900-2162).

Otherwise, Beowulf is mostly a silent protagonist. The only major instance where he speaks unbidden is before his thanes, when he gives them his lengthy autobiography and assures them that this dragon fight will be tough, but he’ll handle it himself.

With that in mind, is it possible that the poet/scribe behind the poem is setting Wiglaf up as the next Geatish king?

Since Beowulf’s speech to his thanes is the product of his office as well as his emotional state at the time, the only thing that marks Wiglaf as different is his lack of a title. Perhaps his outburst is meant to stand as a kind of shorthand for youthful vigor, a vigor that he tries to impart to or revive in Beowulf through his words of encouragement – themselves completely unbidden.

Going back to the idea that Wiglaf’s speeches are the result of his inexperience in the field of war (a man’s proving grounds in the poem), maybe he is an early case study in the idea behind the phrase “fake it before you make it.”

Having no past battle experience, Wiglaf can only put on a brave face, something expressed through words, but he can’t put on a brave show aside from his apparently impulsive rush from the band of thanes to his lord’s side.

Of course, if all of this is true, then the depiction of Wiglaf speaking to his fellow thanes and rushing to his lord’s side is a great portrayal of a young thane bound for great things.

Next week, Isidore runs through three of the colors from this week’s guide to good horses. And, in Beowulf, another hardship befalls the rallied lord of the Geats.

You can find the next part of Beowulf here.

The Second Half of Wiglaf’s Speech to the Thanes: Rhetoric [ll.2646b-2660] (Old English)

Posted on 2012/06/08 by NSCZach

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Anglo-Saxon Understatement
On Fate and Rhetoric
Closing

{The sort of sheild that Wiglaf brings to the fight – hopefully his sword proves sturdier! Image from the blog *Beowulfian*, hosted by wikimedia.org.}

Wiglaf completes his speech, and in doing so presents himself as the shining example that the other thanes should follow.

Now is the day come
that our liege lord strength needs
good warriors. Let us go to,
to help the leader in battle while it is possible,
against the fierce terror from fire. God knows
that it is much dearer to me that my body
be with my gold-giving lord while fire should enfold him.
Nor does it seem to me fitting that we shields
bear back to home unless we first may
the foe kill, by life defend
the Weder’s prince. I know well
that it is not merited by past deeds, that he alone must
without the Geatish host affliction suffer,
fall at the battle; both of us shall sword and helm,
mail coat and battle garment together share.”
(Beowulf ll.2646b-2660)

Old English:

Modern English:

Wiglaf really gives it to his fellow thanes in this part of his speech. How can you tell such a thing? Because he uses token Anglo-Saxon sense of understatement. Not very liberally, but in such a way that it remains obvious even to this day.

So, we hear Wiglaf start a sentence with “God knows,” (“God wāt” (l.2650)), and it’s quite clear that he’s either being incredibly genuine or relying on a higher power to embolden himself. The understatement comes next when he moves from citing god to state that it wouldn’t be fitting to go home as warriors if they didn’t even fight.

The understatement in this sentence is clear from Wiglaf’s beginning it with “nor” (“ne”(l.2653)). This negative start undercuts his own position (“…seem to me…” ( “…þynceð me…”(l.2653))) and puts it squarely in contrast with his previous reference to god. And so the young warrior cunningly sets himself up for a verbal finger wagging as he calls his fellow warriors on even thinking about calling themselves warriors without even fighting the dragon.

Wiglaf’s statement “I know well/that it is not merited by past deeds” (“Ic wāt geare,/þæt nǣron eald-gewyrht”(ll.2656-2657)) that Beowulf should suffer alone sets human knowledge and the unknowable power of fate at an incredible contrast.

Earlier in the poem we’ve been told that fate has left Beowulf’s side (ll.2574-2575), that it is indeed his fate to die, but Wiglaf, because of his dedication to kin, is not deterred by this, however obvious it might be given the state of the fight.

As the one who is set up to succeed Beowulf as king of the Geats, it seems that Wiglaf has an uncanny way of seeing how to make the best of fate, since he does indirectly acknowledge the fact that Beowulf is doomed while at the same time he calls for all the Geats to rally around him so that Beowulf will not be alone when he falls. It’s a nice emphasis of the importance of community to Anglo-Saxon life and culture.

However, where all of Wiglaf’s rhetoric falls flat is in his final sentence. Old English pronouns included some that were just for two people, but the one used here, “bām,” is definitely of the dual sense. So, just as Wiglaf is acutely aware of the fact that Beowulf should be attended because of his great stature as a warrior, it also seems that by the speech’s end he’s acutely aware of the fact that he is the only one about to rush off to help.

Next week, St. Isidore starts to wrap up coverage of horses, and concludes the overview of the last two characteristics of a great horse. In Beowulf, Wiglaf rushes to Beowulf and says some more words before we’re all reminded that the dragon’s still about.

You can find the next part of Beowulf here.

Wiglaf Speaks – But Will The Others Listen? [ll.2631-2646a] (Old English)

Posted on 2012/06/01 by NSCZach

{An ideal warrior, indeed. Image from Geograph.co.uk.}

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Getting Grammatical
Geatland’s Next Top Warrior
Closing

Wiglaf speaks to his fellow thanes, making his intentions to fulfill their pledges to Beowulf made in the mead hall and trying – indirectly – to stir his fellows to do the same.

“Wiglaf spoke, many true words were
said by the companion (though at heart he was sad):
“I that time remember, when we mead drank,
when we pledged ourselves to our lord
in the beer hall, he who to us these rings gave,
promised that we the war-equipment would repay
if such need to him befell, [fend for him] with
helms and hard swords. For that reason he us from
the army chose, for this expedition by his own will,
considered us worthy for glory, and to me this
treasure gave, because he us good spear-fighters
judged,valiant warriors in helmets — though the
lord this courageous deed alone intended to
perform, herder of the people, because he
among men a glorious deed would accomplish,
do that deed audaciously.”
(Beowulf ll.2631-2646a)

Old English:

Modern English:

The most characteristic thing about this passage of Beowulf is the placement of its pronouns. Clauses like “he who to us these rings gave” (“ðe ūs ðās bēagas geaf” l.2635) sound pretty unnatural to modern ears since. It sounds off since in modern English this statement would be written “he who gave these rings to us.” Yet, throughout this passage the pronouns for the Subject and Direct Object (the thing directly acted on by the Subject) are constantly side by side (or closer than they are in Modern English).

This placement definitely emphasizes the connection between Beowulf and the thanes on the level of straightforward meaning, but it also works on a grammatical level. For there is almost no verbal distance between the Subject and the Direct Object, and this close proximity shows just how closely related the two are. Each one of Wiglaf’s statements underlines this fact, and it is this idea of their closeness that he uses to try to rouse his fellow thanes so that they all go and help Beowulf together.

However, at first glance there is something in this passage that works against Wiglaf’s rhetorical emphasis of his and the other thanes’ reliance on Beowulf.

The last five lines of this section of the poem are entirely about Beowulf’s desire to fight the dragon alone.

The line “though the lord/this courageous deed alone intended to perform” (“þēah ðe hlāford ūs/þis ellen-weorc āna āðōhte/tō gefremmanne”) sounds like it could be referring to Beowulf’s telling the thanes to stay out of the fight because he wanted to handle it himself, but it also suggests that Beowulf intended to fight alone from the start – which makes you wonder why he bothered to bring along the twelve thanes in the first place.

Whether fighting solo was something premeditated or not, bringing along the best of the best for this fight might have been Beowulf’s way of finding a successor.

The dragon is indeed the ultimate foe, and Beowulf may’ve guessed that even most of the cream of the martial crop would fear it. If that’s the case, then bringing this cream along would make it easy to find out who could possibly rule the Geats after his death – Beowulf was, after all, having dark premonitions after the dragon came and before the fight.

Though, this raises the question of why Beowulf never had any children. Whether he married Hygd after Hygelac’s death or not, fifty years is a long time to go without fathering any children. It stretches the belief, though maybe remaining unwedded and childless are characteristics of the hero that the scops were aiming for when Beowulf was being told and retold, molded into what was written down and what we have today.

Some bits of the manuscript were eaten by rats, or destroyed by a fire, but even those that remain still hold much mystery.

Next week, come back for more early medieval thoughts on horses with St. Isidore of Seville, and to get the second half of Wiglaf’s stirring speech.

You can find the next part of Beowulf here.

On Wiglaf’s Weapons (Pt. 2) [ll.2620-2630] (Old English)

Posted on 2012/05/25 by NSCZach

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Two Possibilities for “mid Geatum”
Medieval Shorthand?
A Curious Word
Closing

The story of Weohstan and the arms winds down here, and things move back to Wiglaf, as he is on the verge of breaking from the host to go help Beowulf.

“He kept those adornments for many half-years,
sword and mail shirt, until his son could
perform heroic deeds as his late father did;
then he gave to him among the Geats war garbs
in countless number, when he departed from life,
old and on his way forth. Then was the first time
for the young warrior, to himself advance into
the battle onslaught with his noble lord. His spirit
did not melt away then, nor did his kinsman’s
heirloom fail in the conflict; this the serpent
discovered, after they had come together.”
(Beowulf ll.2620-2630)

Old English:

Modern English:

Just as with so many other sets of equipment in Beowulf, Wiglaf’s arms were passed onto him by his father. However, the poet/scribe also sees fit to add that these things were passed onto Wiglaf when father and son were “among the Geats,” (“mid Geatum” (l.2623)).

Since Weohstan had previously been in exile (as the poem made plain when describing his slaying of Eanmunde), this added detail is rather significant for one reason or another.

On the one hand, this detail suggests the importance of community. Possibly, even, this small prepositional phrase implies an underlying belief of the poet’s/scribe’s that communal memory is better than individual memory. At the least, with the constant references to friendship, kin ties, and the sound of the raucous joy of groups in halls, a community is regarded as being better than being alone.

On the other hand, it might just be another detail. Something to add to the colour of the story and not really a thread that’s woven around or with something else in the poem as so many things are.

Actually, It’s easy to wonder then if the phrase “among the Geats” is shorthand for a more detailed setting. But the marker of community might just be setting enough for the sort of transitional act that passing on war garb is in Anglo-Saxon culture.

For there was a firm belief among the Anglo-Saxons that a person’s belongings carried a part of his or her essence even after he or she died. So, passing these things on is as much a passing on of the physical objects as it is of the memory held within them, the things they used to make their mark on the world.

To pass these weapons, these memories, on, within the structures of a community, to make it an event within that community and thus set it into that community’s memory, would ensure that it definitely becomes entrenched there. It becomes as much a community act as a family act.

The other highlight of the passage is the original Old English verb used on line 2628: “gemealt.”

According to the Clark Hall & Merritt dictionary of Old English, the verb can be translated as “to consume by fire,” “melt,” “burn up,” “dissolve,” or “digest.” Since it’s referring to Wiglaf’s spirit, it seems most appropriate to go with melt. That way the words invoke an image of the young warrior envisioning his attack on the dragon and the aid that he’ll give his lord and having this vision stand firm rather than melting away (like a Jello mold in the heat of the sun).

{Possibly how Wiglaf imagines himself fighting the dragon. Image from Lady, That’s My Skull}

That’s all for this week, but check back next for Isidore’s continuing look at horses, and for Wiglaf’s stirring speech to his fellow thanes.

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

Posted on 2012/05/18 by NSCZach

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

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

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

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

Old English:

Modern English:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Posted on 2012/05/11 by NSCZach

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

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

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

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

Old English:

English:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Posted on 2012/05/04 by NSCZach

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

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

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

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

Old English:

Modern English:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Posted on 2012/04/27 by NSCZach

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

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

Introduction

Beowulf launches his first attack against the dragon this week:

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

Old English:

Modern English:

The most interesting part of this section is its structure.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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: Old English

A Co-ordinated Dragon Kill [ll.2688-2705] (Old English)

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

A Chatty Wiglaf and an Encouraged Beowulf [ll.2661-2672a] (Old English)

The Second Half of Wiglaf’s Speech to the Thanes: Rhetoric [ll.2646b-2660] (Old English)

Wiglaf Speaks – But Will The Others Listen? [ll.2631-2646a] (Old English)

On Wiglaf’s Weapons (Pt. 2) [ll.2620-2630] (Old English)

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

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

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

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