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.

What the Danes’ coastguard says of Beowulf (ll.247b-257) [Old English]

Posted on 2014/01/31 by NSCZach

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
A matter of translation
Beowulf’s self control
Closing

The Dane’s coastal watchman gaurdedly compliments the Geats’ leader and calls on him to identify himself and his purpose.

“‘Never saw I a mightier man
upon this earth, than this one before me,
this man of might; is that not a retainer,
one worthy of weapons; never would his mien betray him,
a singular sight. Now, you of the far off dwelling place,
sea-farer, I would hear tell of
your singular purpose; haste is best
in saying why you are come hence.'”
(Beowulf ll.247b-257)

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

The last word of line 249 doesn’t quite work. I’m not working to get a set meter into my translation of Beowulf, nor am I worried about rhythm. But even John R. Clark Hall and Herbert D. Meritt are bothered by the word at the end of line 249, that they translate as “retainer?” (Hall 302a).

This word is “seld-guma.”

Its only ascription in my dictionary is to this instance of it in Beowulf. Apparently the words “seld” and “guma” are not combined anywhere else in the extant body of Old English writing.

The former of the two words in this compound means “hall, palace, residence; seat, throne, dais,” and the latter means “man, lord, hero.” So literal combinations could be “hall hero,” “palace lord,” or “throne man.” One of these is better than simply “retainer,” I think. “Hall hero” does the best job of capturing the sense of “seld-guma.”

Just what is that sense?

I think, aside from its literal meaning, “seld-guma” connotes someone who is a regular attendant upon a hall or palace who has distinguished himself somehow. I’m pulling this connotation from the combination itself, since an appellation like “seld-guma” doesn’t seem to be something lightly given.

The Anglo-Saxons put a high value on halls, after all, and so to be called “seld-guma” could be considered a great commendation. What’s more, in this specific instance it must mean that Beowulf has a very dignified look about him since the coastguard is riffing off of his appearance alone. Association with a hall or residence would confer certain airs upon a person, and Beowulf very clearly carries himself with these in full effect.

Another way to think of the combination is that it connotes “household guard.” To lightly assign warriors to guard your house (and by extension your family, valuables, and own life) would be to invite peril. Thus, naming Beowulf as such not only signifies that he has this title back in Geatland, but also that he is a hall hero because a stranger recognizes such qualities in him.

Further along in this week’s extract, the coastguard says of Beowulf “never would his mien betray him” (“næfne him his wlite leoge” (l.250)). It’s my opinion that this is meant to build on Beowulf as a “seld-guma.”

As a warrior, even as a debater, it’s important that you control yourself as much as possible. Attacks can be telegraphed by the body in strange ways, after all.

With that in mind, saying that Beowulf’s countenance would never betray him suggests that he is in complete control of his expression, letting nothing at all slip out unintentionally.

Once more, this comes back to the coastguard assessing Beowulf on how he carries himself. Based on what’s said here, it must be very well indeed. Not to mention, if Beowulf can really keep a lid on things to the extent that’s suggested, it’s fair to guess that he’s a truly great warrior since he would leave his opponents guessing until he struck.

More generally, it must also mean that Beowulf could erase things like fear and joy from his face, making him just as dangerous with words as with swords, as we’ll see next week.

In next week’s extract, we hear, for the first time in the poem, from Beowulf himself.

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 thoughtful shore guard and Anglo-Saxon karma? (ll.229-236) [Old English]

Posted on 2014/01/17 by NSCZach

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Why so curious?
Anglo-Saxon Karma
Closing

This week, we’re offered a look into the head of a Danish shore guard as he sees the Geats land.

“Then from the cliffs the Scyldings shore guard saw them,
the one who was to hold the sea-cliffs,
men carrying bright shields across a ship’s gangway,
bearing ready war gear; his curiousity overpowered
his thinking, the need to know what these men were.
Then rode out the thane of Hrothgar
to the shore, powerfully shook the
spear in his hand, asked in a querying tone:”
(Beowulf ll.229-236)

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

The core of this short passage is the shore guard’s inner conflict. From “his curiousity overpowered/his thinking” (“hine fyrwyt bræc/modgehygdum” (ll.232-233)) we can see that he’s generally a cautious, thoughtful sort of guy (possibly an introvert?), but his curiousity overpowers him. What marks this as the core of the passage is what this conflict can tell us about the current feeling among the Danes more generally.

There are a number of things that the man could wonder or assume about those he sees trundling onto the shore, armed and ready for war. But of them, there are two that seem most likely to be in there.

One of these is the possibility that this band of warriors is here to fight Grendel. The other thought is the possibility that the band is an advance party sent to scout out (maybe even take on?) the Danes in open war. Word had spread about their predicament with Grendel, after all. And such word would draw those who wanted to help the Danes as much as those who wanted to take advantage of them. Even fiend-harried, there would no doubt be some gain to be had from taking the storied hall of Heorot.

If we assume that the first possibility is what eggs the man on, then there’s not too much more to write on it. He’s hopeful that the Danes will be saved and that Grendel will be dealt with. This feeling among the Danes is already well-established in earlier passages. However, if it’s the second possibility, that this band of men has come to cause further trouble for the Danes, then things get more interesting.

Perhaps, none have tried to take advantage of the Danes’ weakened state just yet, but Hrothgar, king that he is, is well aware that people will do so. As such, maybe this is even the assumption the man has been commanded to make in this sort of situation. Or, perhaps such attempts have already been made and repelled, making this shore guard wary of such parties of warriors.

The latter situation is more likely to generate inner conflict since hope for help would clash with a learned dread of outsiders. As such, the latter situation is more strongly implied here, which means that a whole lot more has been happening in Daneland than the poet’s told so far. Not that the poet finds such inter-human conflicts as interesting as those between people and the supernatural.

Combining the possibility that over the course of Grendel’s twelve year reign of terror people came to challenge the Danes as well as Grendel with Beowulf‘s cyclical and interwoven nature creates a very strong through-line.

Is Beowulf later visited by a supernatural fiend of his own because he freed Hrothgar from another?

Perhaps, buried in old books and found among words told to children beside winter fires, there is a long since dead belief that whatever you helped to rid one person of would come back in a greater form to challenge you directly. Thus Beowulf‘s supernatural element moves from a pair of ogres/goblins/monsters to a single fire-breathing, night-flying dragon.

Because I’ve always read Beowulf as a story about the broken link a long chain of events, the end of a way of life, this reading of the poem adds further depth to Beowulf’s failure against the dragon.

Hrothgar prospers, or at least survives, because his help is from outside of his group. As such, the group itself is not weakened internally and is able to re-emerge from a lengthy oppression. On the other hand, the dragon that terrorizes the Geats isn’t dealt with by some warrior from another group but is finished off by another Geat: Wiglaf.

Because it’s a member of the group in peril that saves the group from that peril, by whatever mechanic the matter of disasters works in the world of the poem (and maybe its originator?), the Geats are left permanently weakened.

The Geats’ position is also not helped, of course, by the death of their leader. Perhaps the Geats fall not because of the loss of Beowulf alone but because the the outcome of a supernatural revenge system is heaped on top of it.

Next week, we hear what the shore guard says. Listen up come next Thursday!

You can find the next part of Beowulf here.

An end to Geatish sailing (ll.217-228) [Old English]

Posted on 2013/12/29 by NSCZach

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Leaving the sea mysterious
Beowulf as historical allegory (a sketch)
Closing

The Geats swiftly arrive on Daneland’s bright shores.

The ship then knew the ocean’s motion, was wind-hastened,
became foamy-necked, became seabird like,
until near the time of day they had left,
after their ship with curved prow had glided,
when those well-travelled ones saw land,
dazzling sea cliffs, steep hills,
an ample headland; then was sailing simple,
the journey at an end. From that ship sprang
the Geats onto the sands,
their boat they bound there – they shook their mailcoats,
war gear; they thanked God then,
the one that made their ship’s going smooth.
(Beowulfll.217-228)

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

For a poem about sea-faring peoples, the poet’s definitely not spinning out what you’d expect. Every time that someone travels by sea it’s usually glossed over. There’s often something about it being swift, or sailors being lucky with conditions, but no real detail about it is given.

Maybe, in this poem for a people looking to settle into a fixed identity, the idea was to keep transitory acts (like sailing) to a minimum. If that’s the case, then the poet definitely did his/her job: there’s not a true sailing scene in the whole poem. Though, there is the matter of Beowulf and Breca’s swimming match.

Perhaps the Geats’ trip over to Daneland is not shown because it would interfere with the importance of the swimming match. After all, the sea would hold no mystery or power or be able to inspire as much of a response if details about safe passage across it were given. With the sailing scenes (and even Beowulf’s swimming back to Geatland after a major battle later in the poem) as short as they are, the sea retains its mystery. And with that mystery can come monsters, like those that Beowulf fights as he defends his friend.

Perhaps the power of this mystery was meant to extend further, as well. For, if the Anglo-Saxons of the British Isles wanted to feel like a grounded, rooted people, then making something as transitional as the sea a mystery could help them do so. For mysterious things are usually alienated or alien things.

An interesting detail is contained in line 222: “brimclifu blican.” I translated that second word, “blican,” to dazzling (in line with the Clark Hall & Meritt Anglo-Saxon Dictionary’s definition). Perhaps most of northern Europe had the white cliffs that are now associated with Britain (thanks in no small part to Matthew Arnold). So, is Daneland, in all things but figures and fealties, another Britain?

Going back to the Anglo-Saxons as a sea-faring people, they’re sure to have noticed the white cliffs of Britain facing France. So if Beowulf was written by the Anglo-Saxons, and not just translated from a language you might expect given peoples’ and places’ names, then maybe that’s a detail signalling that Daneland represents Britain.

If Daneland is understood as Britain, then perhaps Grendel is the Celts, or some sort of spirit or genius of the Celts that the Anglo-Saxons didn’t care for. Reading Grendel in this metaphorical way, it then becomes possible to interpret Beowulf himself within the same historical framework. Where Grendel is the embodiment of what is wrong with the place that the Anglo-Saxons (the Danes) have chosen to settle, Beowulf represents what is just and what is good – Beowulf is god’s instrument for the creation on earth of what is to be harmonious and perfect. Like the Anglo-Saxons he came from elsewhere, but frees those that he meets and is elevated to kingship because of his prowess and own merits rather than inheritance.

In fact, he becomes king because of the people’s accord when a new ruler has to be found after Hygelac’s line is ended. Ultimately, though, what Beowulf’s death could mean in this metaphorical interpretation of the hero gets tricky. Perhaps it is a kind of prophecy of what would come next for the Anglo-Saxons, after they had waned like their other heroic peoples, the Jews of the book of Exodus, had.

This entry wraps things up for 2013. Check back for the first post of 2014 on the third Thursday of January!

You can find the next part of Beowulf here.

The action’s paused, time for a montage (ll.202-209) [Old English]

Posted on 2013/11/17 by NSCZach

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Low action, high language
Beowulf in montage
Closing

The Geatish hero gathers his group and they head for their ship.

“Then were wise warriors chosen to accompany
him on his journey, those whom to him were dear,
whetstones to wondrous deeds, each looking hale.
The good Geat people then a great warrior
had crowned, there you a brave man might find;
some fifteen sought out the ship at shore;
to the frontier they went, following
the words of the wise, the one versed in sea-ways.”
(Beowulf ll.202-209)

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

The action of this passage is pretty bland. Beowulf’s crew is selected, they’re all mighty in their own right, and the lot of them head down to the shore for their boat. That’s it.

But the poet was certainly aware of the dullness of this section of the epic. Where its action lags, its language really soars. Unfortunately, this doesn’t always come across in translation, but the alliteration and tone of line 204a is pretty easily preserved.

The original reads thusly:

“hwetton higerofne”

A literal translation of this is: “sharpening high bravery”

To maintain the alliteration and theatricality of the original, I translated it thusly:

“whetstones to wondrous deeds”

What makes this sort of preservation possible here is the fact that this half-line is an adjective clause. That makes it easier because most of Old English’s poetic sentences are garbled and have words shuffled out of the usual Subject-Verb-Object order. As a result, even taking poetic license, it’s not always possible to translate a sentence from Beowulf so that you maintain the original’s rhythm and tone. But, a clause that’s just describing something always follows the same formula of encapsulating the thing being described into a vaguely related phrase.

This passage’s lack of action has two causes. The first is that it’s primarily a descriptive section of the poem. Instead of seeing anything in depth, this mysterious Geatish hero is merely introduced as vaguely as the others who had tried to help the Danes were. The biggest difference is that he’s being dwelled upon quite a bit, but otherwise this guy is as anonymous as the rest.

The extra attention afforded to this hero makes it clear that this one is different from the rest. But the poet would have had to have mentioned those others who tried their hands against Grendel to get this effect in the first place. Plus, though it can only be speculation, since I have no idea how well known the story of Beowulf and Grendel was when the epic was first being put together, audiences might have already known about the one who gets Grendel out of the Danes’ hair. As such, introducing him through this summary-like, action-less passage builds anticipation for his full arrival in the story.

The other reason for this passage’s being rather bland is connected to the idea that this is just a brief description of events that the audience may already have been familiar with. In fact, it kind of bolsters the first reason.

Were Beowulf’s arrival written only as this stranger’s appearing on the Danish shore, without any sort of explanation or reason why, it would be downright bad writing – especially if Beowulf was a well known character. After all, for anything more than a cameo, even a well known character needs to be set up. Audiences get more out of it if they’re able to guess at who this Geatish hero is. Just dropping audiences into the Geats’ meeting with the Danes’ would not build up the same amount of anticipation, and so the pay off of Beowulf’s being named would be much less than it is.

Actually, this part of the poem is like the modern movie montage – a thing to drop in between scenes when you need a quick way to show some sort of motion or progress towards a goal. Here, that goal is Beowulf’s arriving in Daneland.

Next week the montage continues, as we watch Beowulf and his band set sail and navigate the seas.

You can find the next part of Beowulf here.

Grendel exposed! (ll.189-201) [Old English]

Posted on 2013/10/25 by NSCZach

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Old time telephone
Punishment personified
Closing

Word of Grendel reaches the Geats.

So they brooded upon the troubles of that time,
none of the wise could put them upon the right
way; that strife was too steep, loatheful and longlasting,
that which had befallen the people,
that fierce severe punishment, wreaker of night-destruction.
One of his thanes heard of this while home with Hygelac,
one good amidst the Geats, he heard tell of Grendel’s deeds;
he was humanities’ mightiest in strength
in the days of this life,
regal and great. He was given command of a ship
and well-directed; he spoke, saying he would seek
the troubled king across the swan’s way,
that famous ruler, to show that he was the man they needed.
(Beowulf ll.189-201)

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

For the first time here, we get a kind of report on Grendel’s activities. That is, we’re told once again about Grendel’s doings with the Danes, but in a quick summary. Also, this summary is in a different voice, one that’s more removed from the scene than that previously used to describe the terror that is Grendel. Of course, this distant voice is just perfect, since that’s likely how contemporary news would have been after travelling hundreds of miles.

What’s also interesting about this reportage is that it ossifies the Danes as a troubled group. Again, this is all too appropriate. By the time the news had reached as far as it would, the situation – if truly terrible – would probably be quite well-ensconced.

Unfortunately, the poet/transcriber doesn’t seem to be interested in the dimension of time here, nor is there any mention of how distant the Geats are from the Danes. We’re not told how long it takes the Geats to hear about the Danes’ plea. We’re only told that one among them is intrigued by the whole thing and seeks to make a name for himself.

Nonetheless, I can’t help but get the impression that the Geats are among the last to hear about the Danes’ plight. I can’t quite say why, save that the Geats’ being last to receive word and the group from which the Danes’ hero comes works well for narrative purposes.

Old English is full of curious compound words.

You can find such a word lurking in line 193: “nyðwracu.” Now, so joined, the word means “severe punishment.” But, taken separately, “nyðwracu” is made up of “nyð,” which means “strife,” and “wracu,” meaning “vengeance,” “punishment,” or “cruelty.” The jump to “severe punishment” when the two are combined thus becomes clear.

For, when each word is looked at, we get a sense of some severe form of vengeance – a vengeance that’s not just contained in a single act, but that is more long-lasting and spreading. It’s the sort of vengeance that comes in the form of a series of calamities. Because the word describes an act of vengeance, that is, a reaction to something that’s gone before, the idea of punishment can enter into it and we get “severe punishment.”

Once again, what we’re left wondering, though, is just what is it that the Danes are being punished for?

Since, in a grammatical sense, Grendel isn’t described as one who is bringing “severe punishment,” it’s not that he’s some greater figure’s agent. Instead, on line 193, the word is used in the sense of a pronoun for Grendel, personifying him as this severe punishment by means of synecdoche. In personifying Grendel as the punishment, rather than merely its agent, the poet answers our wondering. Grendel is then made into a symbol of severe punishment, retribution, vengeance – maybe even the furious heart of every feud – itself. He has no purpose but to cause incredible strife.

Next week, we’ll hear about the Geats’ preparations and their shoving off into the sea.

You can find the next part of Beowulf here.

Idols of love (ll.175-188) [Old English]

Posted on 2013/10/18 by NSCZach

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Wants and Worship
“Love is all you need”
Closing

After going over the Danes’ religious practices, the poem’s recorder (poet?) gives them a stern talking to.

“Meanwhile they made demands of cherished idols
at household shrines, with words of worship,
so that they sought help against their problems
from the soul-slaying fiend. Such was their way,
their heathenish hope; they concentrated on hell
in their hearts, they knew not the Measurer,
deeds of the Judge, they knew not almighty God
nor knew they of the praiseful protection of heaven,
glorious God. Woe betide them that shall
cast their soul into the flames’ embrace when
embroiled in cruel enmity, cheer they never know,
never a person restored! Well be those that might
after their death day seek the Lord
and hope for the safety of God’s grace.”
(Beowulf ll.175-188)

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

What’s striking about the description of the Danes and their idols is the relationship that’s presented. It doesn’t seem that these idols are things that they regard on a regular basis, but instead whenever they have some request. A request that they very courteously couch in worship, of course.

This is a worship that seems to be entirely for the sake of appealing to their deities. Quite literally: “they made demands of cherished idols/at household shrines, with words of worship” (“hie geheton æt hærgtrafum/wigweorþunga, wordum bædon” (ll.175-76)).

In making this connection, the poet sets himself up for the very Christian address that follows. The Danes serve the soul-slaying one because their worship isn’t of any deity, but ultimately their own desires and wants is what underpins his complaint. According to the poem’s recorder (or poet?), this hip new Christian god, on the other hand, is something that requires worship in good times and in bad – with eternal rewards. And even if you’re not too sure about this Christian god, then, well, Danes, you can see for yourselves in a few hundred lines that its power is greater than even Grendel’s.

At the same time, the poet doesn’t break out all the fire and brimstone when condemning the Danes’ practices. He very clearly states that “they knew not the Measurer,” (“metod hie ne cuþon” (l.180)). So the Danes aren’t even aware of this Christian god that Beowulf is strangely always on about.

There are hundreds of thousands of words in English. Hundreds of thousands. But, there isn’t a single word (so far as I know) that expresses the same thing as a certain word in Latin that is best translated as “in the bosom of.” The Latin word (an adjective, I believe, which, unfortunately, escapes me) actually refers to keeping something in layer/piece of clothing that went over the chest – meaning that whatever it described is kept very close indeed.

Maybe it’s the fifth grader in me, but “in the bosom of” just seems off the mark. There are connotations of motherly love in this term, true. The same concept is at play in the Latin term, but the Latin term transcends “in the bosom of” because its connotation is genderless and relies on a cultural commonality.

More than likely this lack on English’s part is due to its difficulty in expressing several kinds of love. Sure we all have acquaintances, friends, lovers, platonic partners, significant others, and the like, but we don’t really have too many words to describe the feeling between people in these various roles. “Love” is about the only one that comes up, though you would probably think it strange to hear someone say that they love an acquaintance (maybe even a friend, depending on the person speaking).

Next week, we hear about how a certain Geat first heard of Hrothgar’s woe.

You can find the next part of Beowulf here.

Words from the "gif-stol" (ll.164-174) [Old English]

Posted on 2013/10/04 by NSCZach

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
All about the “gif-stol”
On ‘secret’ ‘courage’
Closing

At long last we’re given details about Grendel’s grip on Heorot beyond a body count.

“So the fiend trespassed deeply against humankind,
the horror of the lone-goer, oft cursed,
awful affliction; Heorot was lived in,
the richly adorned hall was his by gloomy night,
though he could not approach the throne,
the treasure to the Measurer, nor could he be known.
This did much to the misery of the Scyldings,
their hearts broken. Many oft sat
with the ruler to give counsel, esteemed advice,
things that the rash and the best were fixing
to do against the awful horror.”
(Beowulf ll.164-174)

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

As the physically stronger party, Grendel claims physical control over Heorot, though the Danes retain legal ownership of it. But Grendel, even as a violent squatter, cannot approach “the throne” (“gif-stol” (l.168)).

The Old English word used here for “throne” can also mean “gift-seat.” The difference between the two translations is minimal, but the reason for there being two in the first place is because “gif-stol” doesn’t just refer to the throne as a place of power. It refers to the gift-giving role that any good ruler had to play, as well. The throne is the place from which a ruler would dispense gifts and favours.

It’s entirely possible that the throne is set aside so that it can be the exclusive purvey of a ruler, imbuing him with a kind of positive, public solitude. It’s a place in which a ruler could be guaranteed clearer thinking and judgement in the matter of gifts because it was the ruler’s alone – no one else could enter that head (or cheek) space. Gifts were important in early medieval Europe, to the point where their being given and being received was closely watched. Who gave what to whom and vice versa mattered greatly to peoples’ reputations and standing.

Grendel can’t approach this gift-giving center, however.

In the text, the implication is that the throne is somehow dedicated to god. Building on the story that the scops had been singing in Heorot when times were still great, it seems that Grendel, as an accursed of god, can’t approach the throne because it is simply not for him. In a gift-driven society in which gifts could end feuds (and start them), not being able to approach the throne would mean that Grendel is cut off from a major social function. Being so isolated from society at large shouldn’t matter much to one who is already quite monstrous and thus excluded from society, and, really, it doesn’t seem to. The mention of Grendel’s not being able to approach this throne reads more like a detail added to show that there was hope yet. After all, Grendel “could not be known” (“ne his myne wisse” (l.169)).

I take this extra clause to mean that he could not be acknowledged by anyone in the throne (seated there, or to whom it had been dedicated), and therefore showing that Grendel was indeed cut off from society at large, reinforcing his isolation. It’s interesting to note that there’s no mention of Grendel’s aggression in this passage. He rules the hall by night. After reading this passage, it almost seems that Grendel could be capering about it, revelling in being in a public, social space.

Some curious words appear in the latter half of this passage.

First, on line 172, we have “counsel” or, in Old English: “rune.” It’s a neat philological fact that the Old English word for “mystery, secret, secrecy” is also the one for “counsel, consultation.” It gives the sense that rulers were believed so wise and powerful not necessarily because they themselves were, but because their counsel – with whom they worked behind the scenes – helped them to be so. The dictates and gifts made from the throne, would, after all, be made by the ruler alone. Thus the power of many would appear to be the power of one in public.

One line later we run into the word that I’ve translated as “rash”: “swiðferhðum.” This word pulls triple duty as far as Modern English translators are concerned, since it can mean “bold,” “brave,” or “rash.” In the context of the survivors giving Hrothgar advice about what to do with Grendel, “rash” is the best fit because it definitely reflects the attitude and outlook of some of his counsellors, as well as their advice.

The “and” between “rash” and “best” is my own insertion. I added it to distinguish between the “rash” and the “best” who are giving Hrothgar advice.

Next week, we learn more about the measures that the Danes have taken to ward off Grendel.

You can find the next part of Beowulf here.

Desperate Danes, Poetic License (ll.146b-163) [Old English]

Posted on 2013/09/28 by NSCZach

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
More feuding, less sin
Grendel kin
Closing

Grendel’s rule over Heorot becomes news of the world, and the Danes’ plight becomes well known.

&nbsp”It was so for some time,
Twelve winters of anger the friends of Scyld suffered,
each became accustomed to such hardship,
rougher sorrow; because of that they became speakers,
sons of the age, knowledge of them was unhidden,
those troubled deeds of old, that Grendel lashed
out against Hrothgar for a long time, the hateful
monster’s way, years full of failures and feuding,
a perpetual siege. That kin would not treat
with any man of the Danes for even the shortest time,
deadly evil from afar, as few did hope,
nor were there any who believed that his
hand could be stayed with a bright death price;
the fierce enemy was, after all, the pursuer,
a dark death shadow over the veterans and youths,
those who tarried and planned, night upon night
he held the misty moors, men never knew
whither the fiendish monster rapidly went.”
(Beowulf ll.146b-163)

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

Once more we’re faced with the classic phrase: “fyrene ond fæhðe ” (l.153). However, I took a bit of a liberty in its translation. Rather than go with a usual English word for “fyrene” like “transgression,” or “sin,” I went with “failure.” This word rings true here because the phrase is used as a blanket term for the Danes’ relationship with Grendel over the twelve years of his terror. Pairing “failure” and “feud” reflects this relationship pretty much perfectly.

Why?

Because those twelve years are definitely twelve years of fueding. The Danes and Grendel exchange blows (though in a rather one sided way) because of some initial offense for all twelve of those winters. At the same time, the Danes attempt to end this feud in the ways that they’re used to doing so. Ways such as trying to parlay with him (l.154-155), and paying “a bright death price” (“beorhtre bote” (l.158)). Why Grendel should be paid off with a “death price” remains unanswered, though it implies that the Danes may have killed one of his at some earlier point. Or, it could be a sign that the Danes were simply trying everything and anything.

Of course, none of the tactics that the Danes under Hrothgar try succeed. So, in their feud with Grendel, they fail.

The Danes fail to understand what it is that has turned Grendel on them, and, maybe, they fail to understand that Grendel isn’t just monstrous in appearance, but also in his nature. Grendel can’t be dealt with in the same way that some other human clan or group could be dealt with.

Thus, translating “fyrene and faedthe” as “failure and feuding” describes perfectly the Danes experience over their terrible twelve years. The phrase also gels well with the idea of a “perpetual siege” (“singale sæce” (l.154)), since both are terribly one sided conflicts in one way or another. Plus, it alliterates much more smoothly than “sin and feuding” or “transgression and hostility.”

Getting back to the Danes’ trying to pay Grendel off to end the feud, the latter half of this extract suggests that there’s a bit more to this attempt. Particularly in line 159, where Grendel is called “the pursuer” (“ehtende” (the past tense of the verb “ehtan” (“to pursue”), but I have translated it as a noun)).

Referring to Grendel in such a way suggests that the payment the Danes tried to make to him wasn’t so much to repay Grendel for some past wrong they had done to him. Instead, it seems that the Danes are trying to pay Grendel to stop him from killing their own. How exactly this is supposed to work doesn’t make clear sense. After all, it’s a bit too much of an appeal to whatever humanity Grendel may share with the Danes. It’s enough to give you a strong sense that Grendel’s not just monstrous because of his appearance and actions, but because he is completely outside of the usual civil way that people in Beowulf‘s world interact.

The Danes’ trying to pay Grendel to stop his killings could also be because of a misunderstanding on their part. However, I don’t think that’s entirely the case. The poet’s reference to Grendel as “that kin” (“sibbe” (l.154)) implies that he was regarded as some distant relation of the Danes. Maybe this is a nod back to the scop’s noting that the monsters are the kin of Cain. From there, the Danes could surmise that Grendel, a monster, is related to Cain, the son of Adam, the father of humanity, and thus (distantly) related to them.

On a more meta level, the reference to monsters being the kin of Cain and the poet’s referring to Grendel as “the kin” here could be the Beowulf poet/scribe’s own commentary on the power and influence of stories (or the gullibility of people in the past). Perhaps Grendel has no relation to the Dane’s whatsoever, and they are only trying all that they are and loosely referring to him as “kin” because the scop’s history of the world told them such was so.

Next week, we’ll hear more about Grendel’s attacks and the Danes’ responses.

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: Old English

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

What the Danes’ coastguard says of Beowulf (ll.247b-257) [Old English]

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

A thoughtful shore guard and Anglo-Saxon karma? (ll.229-236) [Old English]

An end to Geatish sailing (ll.217-228) [Old English]

The action’s paused, time for a montage (ll.202-209) [Old English]

Grendel exposed! (ll.189-201) [Old English]

Idols of love (ll.175-188) [Old English]

Words from the "gif-stol" (ll.164-174) [Old English]

Desperate Danes, Poetic License (ll.146b-163) [Old English]