Week 1: Beginnings

[Tamara]

Scott wrote: "I taught Beowulf this year for about the 50th time. I read it aloud to every class of high school seniors every year. We use Raffel's translation. Anyone who is interested in some lectures, reading..."

Thank you for sharing this, Scott.

[Borum]

I’m not sure if I interpreted the JudoChristian God’s intention properly, but I thought that his curse on Cain to be banished from society but also his mark to warn and keep others from killing him is partly due to some kind of pity or mercy, or some kind of guilt. We, as humans also feel pity for wrongdoers even when we shouldn’t, especially if they have some background history like being neglected or abandoned by parents or society. I don’t know if I’m taking the Cain metaphor too far, but could there have been some kind of deeper backstory to his isolation or wrath?

[Borum]

I am not at all familiar with AngloSaxon culture or history but is there some significance of rings? Shield was referred to as “the great ring-giver” and Hrothgar “doled out rings and torques” and the “Ring-Danes” got attacked by Grendel after the feast. Because Tolkien was one of the translators I wonder if it has something to do with the “Lord of the Rings”?

[Ian]

Material rings -- finger rings, larger rings attached to objects like swords, great arm rings of twisted gold or silver, and magnificent neck-rings of many pieces -- figured largely in the Old Germanic poetry and some later prose.

To summarize some pertinent points (or at least those I think are most relevant):

In the Migration Age (the fall of the Roman Empire as seen from without) and the Viking Age, they were a form of portable wealth (unlike land, cattle, and slaves), and also a sign of prestige, given by the powerful to favored supporters. Some few, but spectacular, examples survive.

There was another meaning of "hring," too -- the linked rings that make up mail armor. This is probably the intended meaning of Hring-Dene, not that they were all wearing bracelets.

The connection with "Lord of the Rings" is clear, but at a couple of removes. The most important difference being the device of magical rings, with various powers or properties, only a few of which appear in Old English or Scandinavian literature. Besides a cursed ring in the Volsunga Saga, of which Wagner made much more than the source justified, the clearest example of one is not the concern of mortal men: Odin's golden ring Draupnir, which itself "Dropped" rings, by a sort of alchemical process.

This does not appear in Beowulf, but mentioned there in passing is the Brosinga mene, the "necklace of the Brosings" (an unknown reference), which can be considered a ring, and is probably the same as the dwarf-wrought Brisingamen of Norse mythology, a necklace owned by the Goddess Freyja until it was stolen by Loki, with other details. Who the Brisings were, except probably the some as the Brosings, whose name may have been misspelled in the Beowulf manuscript, and even whether that myth is relevant to the Beowulf reference is open to debate. It may refer to an heroic legend in which the supernatural nature of the "ring" is obscured by its value as precious metal. ( A necklace, torque, or neck ring of some splendor passes from Hrothgar to Beowulf to Hygelac, but we haven't come to that as yet.)

The wonder-smith Volund (in the Elder Edda) busies himself making rings -- but whether they have supernatural power, or are merely valuable, is kind of opaque, like much of the poem in which the story appears.

(A neck ring made by Dwarves figures in the Silmarillion, although I suspect that the "curse" on it reflects the necklace of Harmonia in Greek mythology as much as it does anything Old English or Old Norse.).

Tolkien's term 'ring-bearer' (used especially for Bilbo, Frodo, and Sam, all of whom had custody of the One Ring, but mainly for Frodo) actually appears in Old English, but with an entirely different context: a hring berende is a sword with a ring on the pommel: whether as a distinguishing mark (e.g, an expensive gift), simply decoration, or to attach something else to it, is unclear.

The ring-sword might even be connected to the custom of swearing oaths on rings, if one can trust some perhaps dubious English evidence about Danish customs in the Viking Age. It may have magnified the somewhat supernatural aura of a really good ancient sword, the sort that the Anglo-Saxons called "the work of Weland" (the proverbial wonder-smith, equivalent to Norse Volund, mentioned above.)

[Tamara]

Borum wrote: "I don’t know if I’m taking the Cain metaphor too far, but could there have been some kind of deeper backstory to his isolation or wrath?.."

Good question. I wish I knew the answer.

[Charlotte]

Ian wrote: “ The "Sceafing" name, unexplained in Beowulf,..."

To the question on whether Shield is fatherless or not: It seems confusing.

Shield Sheafson is son of Sheaf in Beowulf.

In the Nordic saga, on the other hand, Shield is son of Odin and arrived mysteriously - fatherless - on a ship on a shield.

And later, in Beowulf, there is reference to this arrival. The question of his heritage is a bit muddled then?

[Emil]

David wrote: "I am taking a guess that Grendel is kept away from the throne through belief in the divine right of kings, that kings are god's lieutenants, or that some kings are even thought of of as god on eart..."


There is a completely different interpretation suggested by Tolkien. We need to take a look at the O.E. text:

Swa fela fyrena feond mancynnes,
atol angengea, oft gefremede,
heardra hynða. Heorot eardode,
sincfage sel sweartum nihtum;
no he þone gifstol gretan moste,
maþðum for metode, ne his myne wisse.
þæt wæs wræc micel wine Scyldinga,
modes brecða


Are we sure that "he" is Grendel? Grendel has been the subject in the previous lines, but after two lines we have "wine Scyldinga", so maybe it refers to Hrothgar.
If "he" is Hrothgar we would have a completly different meaning: Grendel took over Heorot and the unfortunate Hrothgar could not even approach is throne.


I just checked the first latin translation made by Grímur Jónsson Thorkelin in 1815. Here is also not clear who cannot approach the throne, Grendel of Hrothgar:

Ne inde ille si
Ad thronum sistere cogeretur
Irato coram domino
Sua flagitia nota fiant.
Hoc fuit damnum ingens
Amico Scyldingorum
Animo fracto.

In the first Modern English translation ( John Mitchell Kemble, 1837) it is quite clear than we're talking about Grendel. Maybe later translations were influenced by Kemble and they took it for granted?

I wonder how is it in the Dutch & Danish translations?

[Ian]

Kemble's readings of the manuscript and some of his interpretations are indeed pervasive.

The editor of the Electronic Beowulf project complained about this some years back, but doesn't seem to have persuaded many critics to treat him as unreliable.

In this case, however, there is a huge critical literature debating whether his reading his correct: one complicated by disputes on the nature and degree of Christian influence on the poem. (There is a view that it is intended to condemn all the heathens, Hrothgar and Beowulf included, which we need not get into here.)

The back-story of Thorkelin and Kemble is kind of complicated. Thorkelin was an Icelander by birth, and, given the archaic nature of their language, had a potentially important source of insight into the poem at his command. Unfortunately, he seems to have neglected to actually study Anglo-Saxon / Old English, treating it as a sort of Scandinavian dialect to be corrected, rather than as a distinct language.

And, over and above the physical difficulty of reading the script of the damaged manuscript, and figuring out the rare (sometimes unique) vocabulary, he made such major errors of interpretation that no one is prepared to cite his understanding of it as relevant evidence.

For example, he thought that Scyld's ship-funeral was the description of Viking raid. Also, perhaps to justify being paid to work on it for the Danish government's historical commission, he rather emphasized the notion, taken from the first catalogue of Old English manuscripts, that it was mostly about the wars of the Danes and Swedes, instead of the deeds of the Geats. (It is in part about such wars, but not with each other. In the world of the poem, the Danes and Swedes don't have a common border, because the Geats live between them. The Danes fight the Heathobards and Frisians on the Baltic and North Sea mainlands, while the Swedes and the Geats fight each other in Scandinavia proper.)

Thorkelin's role as a copyist of the manuscript, made when it was in better shape than any other editor saw it, is taken more seriously. This transcription is known as Thorkelin B. But it is less valued than Thorkelin A, the one he commissioned from an unknown professional transcriber (who didn't imagine that he understood the text, and so kept his conjectural readings out of it).

The first reasonably recognizable translation was by N.F.S. Grundtvig, a Dane, who published a periphrastic translation based on his analysis of the Thorkelin edition, especially what was wrong with its Latin rendering. However, he seems to have thought of it as a primarily Danish poem.

Kemble (like Heaney, a Dubliner) actually knew the Old English language, went to back to the manuscript to check some obscure readings, and made philologically sound conjectures about how the text should read -- at least, if it was in Old English. His first text edition is also the first that has critical, rather than representative value, and his later translation of it, with notes and an extensive glossary, was pretty much the foundation of nineteenth-century Beowulf studies -- mostly in Germany, where the action was for a good deal of the nineteenth century. (Some Germans were inclined to think of it as a Saxon, i.e, German poem, preserved in Anglo-Saxon, and some German translations said as much in their titles.)

[Ian]

In cutting for length my draft of #26, I seem to have left out a key portion: my original conclusion. The source is the Latin rendition of a lost manuscript of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle by Aethelweard (d. c. 1000, a member of King Alfred's dynasty). The relevant portion reads:

"...the son of Beo, the son of Scyld,the son of Scef. This Scef was driven ashore in a warship on an island in the ocean which is called Scani, and was surrounded by weapons: he was a very young child, and unknown to the inhabitants of that country. However, he was adopted by them, and they willingly looked after him as one of their own household, and later chose him as their king...."

"Scani" is apparently the Swedish, originally Danish, province of Skane. It isn't an island in our sense, but Old English uses ea-lond for any territory which can be reached by water: and it isn't in the Ocean, but the Baltic Sea. Aethelweard is trying to make sense of a localized tradition from a region about which he knew too little to make complete sense.

[David]

Emil wrote: "But what if Grendel was not a monster? I like to think he was just a berserker"

is there any evidence in the text for this?

I cannot see Grendel as human, or having once been human as much as I cannot see any sympathy for him as Heaney's translation of Grendel's lonely war seems to imply. Any sympathy for Grendel is simply not warranted. Based on some of the comments above on this translation I will simply think, Grendel's lone war.

Grendel is described here as a remorseless grim demon, a monster, malignant by nature, living in misery among monsters that god himself had made an anathema. If god hates Grendel or wants me to hate him, why should I like him or sympathize with him? There is no indication of that Grendel likes or desires, i.e., he does not kill the men in Heorot because he likes his peace and quiet, or that he takes even a perverse pleasure in killing. Grendel kills because he hates the din of the loud banquet and what it represents. He is driven by hate and hate alone. He butchers men while they are sleeping, spares neither young nor old, and cannot be reasoned to stop.

he would never parley or make peace with any Dane 155 nor stop his death-dealing nor pay the death-price.

In a word, Grendel is irredeemable. Furthermore, I think for the story's sake Grendel must not be pitied or seen as redeemable, otherwise stopping him some other way such as capture or even as a mercy killing, would seem awkward, shameful, and wrong thus justifying the lethal response as the only option.

I currently feel that any sympathy for Grendel has come about, not from a medieval perspective, but only from a modern one, and possibly the modern desire to tell a new story story behind the story. But I could be wrong.

[Ian]

Charlotte wrote: "Ian wrote: "his this reasons he was given the name Sceaf) ..."

Our stories crossed eachother. And they complement eachother?"

You seem to have encountered a synthesis of the external evidence -- one of several that seem to be in circulation in various translations and retellings -- that fits together the scattered evidence into a coherent whole, for which, alas, there is no direct testimony.

[Ian]

SPOILER ALERT

I could/should have mentioned this earlier, but, frankly, either forgot it, or cut it to avoid information overload in earlier postings, and lost track of it later.

For those interested in a mythological background to the poem, and who don't mind knowing the ending (or have read it before):

(view spoiler)[It was pointed out some time in the nineteenth century that Beowulf's biography bears a remarkable resemblance to that of the god Thor, especially as told by Snorri Sturluson in the Prose (or Younger) Edda. He spends his time, like Beowulf, killing monsters and enemies of the gods and men -- chiefly Frost Giants, and Trolls -- and in the end faces and kills a dragon-like super-monster, the Midgard Serpent, but dies of the poison it spews: again, like Beowulf. So far as I have found out, there has been no interesting follow-up to this observation. Not even from the Indo-European comparativist Georges Dumezil, who gave a great deal of attention to examples of myths being recast as heoric legends, including an entire book on the subject using Saxo Grammaticusn on the Skjoldungs as the main example, From Myth to Fiction: The Saga of Hadingus (hide spoiler)]

[Ian]

ADDENDA TO #54.

A Google search I should have made last night turned up some spectacular pictures of gold neck-rings from migration-age Sweden (400-550 AD), including a dramatic You-tube video of three of them: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q073B...

One of them is a traditional illustration in editions and translations of Beowulf that include such archaeological findings.

Also, I skipped over a whole bunch of Old English words that can literally mean "ring," like beag, in beag-gyfa (ring-giver), or contextually imply them, like maththum (treasure).

(And yes, that is where Tolkien got the word mathom, which he uses ironically as the Hobbits' term for things that seem useless, but also seem too good to throw away.)

[Tamara]

Ian wrote: "ADDENDA TO #54.

A Google search I should have made last night turned up some spectacular pictures of gold neck-rings from migration-age Sweden (400-550 AD), including a dramatic You-tube video of ..."

Amazing photographs! Those things must weigh a ton. Thanks for sharing, Ian.

[Emil]

David wrote: "Emil wrote: "But what if Grendel was not a monster? I like to think he was just a berserker"

is there any evidence in the text for this?..."


His appearance is never directly described in the Old English text.

He is "aglaeca" which everyone translated as a monster, but Sigemund is also described as "aglaeca" and he's definitely not a monster.
The middle English "egleche" means fearless, brave. Probably "āglǣċa" means formidable,  monstrously strong.

In l. 151-158 we are told that Grendel would not accept any truce or settle the matter with a payment. It makes no sense to me to specify that a mindless monster will not negotiate or pay the wergild (unless is irony or reductio ad absurdum). I guess we're dealing with a deranged human able (but not willing) to negotiate.

[Ian]

Emil wrote: ... Sigemund is also described as "aglaeca" and he's definitely not a monster.

I pretty much agree with you on the linguistic issue, but there is some room for doubt concerning Sigemund the Waelsing, and the term aglaeca: it depends on how much of his story in the Volsunga Saga, where he appears as Sigmund the Volsung, was known to the early Anglo-Saxons, and how far you wish to press the matter.

Digression for those "into" Old Germanic hero stories, but who haven't put the pieces together (if you are just interested, but not familiar with the legendary sagas and their counterparts, SPOILER ALERT):

(view spoiler)[It was definitely known in England in the Viking Age, as there is a carving showing a bound man biting the tongue of an attacking wolf, which can hardly be anything but one of the peculiar scenes from the Saga, not attested otherwise for a few centuries.

In the Saga, Sigmund and his son/nephew, Sinfjötli (Beowulf's Fitela) spend years lurking in the forest until they are able to take vengeance on Sinfjötli's supposed father, Siggeir, the killer of Sigmund's father, Volsung, and of Sigmund's many brothers (several chapters worth of exposition are here collapsed). Among their other adventures, they make the mistake of putting on magic wolf-skins, and wind up as werewolves for a period.

Aglaeca indeed.

To complicate matters, Siggeir, described as a Goth in some older English translations, is strictly speaking a ruler of Gautland, modern Götaland, that is, the land of the Geats, Beowulf's people, in the south of modern Sweden.

Sigemund also get credit in Beowulf for the dragon-slaying which, in Old Norse sources, already in some Viking Age art (rather than Icelandic verse and prose treatments), seems to belong to his son Sigurd, who is shown unmistakably with the Eddic and Saga characters Fafnir the dragon and Regin the dwarf. (hide spoiler)]

[Borum]

David wrote: "Emil wrote: "But what if Grendel was not a monster? I like to think he was just a berserker"

is there any evidence in the text for this?

I cannot see Grendel as human, or having once been human a..."

Yes, it's probably my modern self reacting to the analogy of Cain and the 'lonely' wording. A chilling analogy was made with some of the modern mass shootings. A mentality of rage, resentment, envy, humiliation, a sense of victimization and injustice, and a deep-seated need for vengeance is neither acceptable nor pardonable reason for violence, as we have a choice to deal with our anger differently, but contemporary psychology keeps asking for more explanation and searching for more ways to solve or prevent any similar causes, and perhaps this is why more and more reinterpretations of the villain characters are portrayed in literature and the media, like the movie Maleficent.

[Borum]

Ian wrote: "Material rings -- finger rings, larger rings attached to objects like swords, great arm rings of twisted gold or silver, and magnificent neck-rings of many pieces -- figured largely in the Old Germ..."

Thank you, Ian! That explained a lot for me.

[Charlotte]

Emil wrote: " Here is also not clear who cannot approach the throne, Grendel of Hrothgar: ..."

In my version it is Grendel who cannot approach the throne and who is the subject of this sentence. In the next sentence there is a sudden change of who is the subject; now it is Hrothgar.

The Danish translation says that Grendel could not approach the throne, the seat of giftgiving, thanks to the Lord, whose love was unknown to him.

[Monica]

Scott wrote: "... Anyone who is interested in some lectures... is welcome to check out my lectures that I had to record because of COVID this year"

Thank you so much, Scott! I only had a very superficial view of anglo-saxon period and culture during my school time. So it is really worthy for me to have an organized material like this to go back and revisit it in a much deeper way. I have just started but I intend to see all of the videos, they are very enlightening, congratulations!

[Kerstin]

Charlotte wrote: "The Danish translation says that Grendel could not approach the throne, the seat of giftgiving, thanks to the Lord, whose love was unknown to him."

I have pretty much the same translation in German:

”Doch dem Gabenstuhl niemals er nähern sich durfte, das Größte vor Gott. Die Gnade ihm fern.”

My (literal) translation: Yet to the giftgiving throne he never was allowed to get close to, the greatest before God. Mercy [or Grace] was distant from him.

This hints at a Christian altar.

[Kerstin]

Borum wrote: "I’m not sure if I interpreted the JudoChristian God’s intention properly, but I thought that his curse on Cain to be banished from society but also his mark to warn and keep others from killing him..."

Cain feels dejected by God, because God didn't accept his offering (Gen. 4). Now we are never told why God preferred Abel's offering over Cain's. Since in the Christian tradition God is Love, we can assume there was no malice involved. What happens next is important: God warns Cain,

"Why are you dejected? If you act rightly, you will be accepted; but if not, sin lies in wait at the door: its urge is for you, yet you can rule over it." (NABRE)

How we behave and react is an act of the will. We can keep things under control, or let them get out of hand, sin like Cain did. It was Cain's choice. He was the one who separated himself from God by committing his sin, not the other way around. This has consequences, he can no longer stay where he is at, in the presence of the holy or where God is present. Cain now becomes worried that anyone can "kill him at sight" and God assures him should anyone try to kill him despite his mark he would be avenged seven times. After this,

"Cain then left the LORD's presence and settles in the land of Nod, east of Eden."

"Nod", as my Bible explains, is a symbolic name and derived from the word nud, to wander. What the verse summarizes, Cain is from now on physically and spiritually an endless wanderer outside of God's presence.

Back to Grendel. The parallel to Cain becomes more clear now. Grendel is a monster, demon, or dragon. When one looks at art depictions all three have been used. By definition demons, monsters et. al. have chosen not be in God's presence. Lucifer and the fallen angels with him have chosen to rebel against God. There are no victims here. They exercised their free will. Grendel hates the Danes, who are in the presence of God, and terrorizes and murders them without remorse. And even though he gains Heorot, he is repelled by the presence of the holy, the throne or treasure-seat.

[Ian]

Comparative background digression, which can be skipped:

There are some problems with elucidating Beowulf's Cain from the Bible, including the use of modern translations: the Anglo-Saxon standard was St. Jerome's Latin Vulgate (but I think that copies of its predecessors, the "Old Latin" might have been in circulation in the British Isles). The differences in this passage may be minor, though: but not so in the commentaries.

And the Anglo-Saxons didn't get their Bible "straight" -- they got it through the glosses and interpretations of the Church Fathers, and they were also familiar with some apocryphal Christian writings, such as used in the the short poem "Acts of the Apostles" and with fabulous hagiography, such as the long Saint's Life "Andreas," which has some verbal and conceptual parallels with "Beowulf." (Including cannibals.)

It seems that the idea of man-like monsters descended from Cain was a Christian one (so far as relevant sources go), but in our poem it is applied to native lore: they explicitly include "eotenas ond ylfe ond orc-neas..." or, roughly, "Ettins ([Old Norse Jotuns, evil Giants] and Elves, and Corpse-walkers," with the additon of Biblical information (also as interpreted) -- "swylce gigantas tha with Gode wunnon" -- "and also the Giants that with God struggled" (lines 112-113).

The idea that various sorts of monstrous, and man-eating, beings inhabited the edges of the world also is quite explicit in two Latin-derived texts in the Beowulf manuscript itself (as I've mentioned in an earlier thread), "The Wonders of the East" and "The Letter of Alexander to Aristotle."

So a certain amount of (late) Classical learning also belongs to the picture. For texts and translations, see Andy Orchard, Pride and Prodigies: Studies in the Monsters of the Beowulf Manuscript. This also contains a text from other manuscript sources, the "Liber Monstrorum," mostly sharing material from Latin sources, but including some early medieval Irish material, and, form some source, including a mention of Beowulf's King Hygelac, which is often quoted separately.

I think that we are intended to take Grendel seriously as human-shaped, but inhuman, creature, with an appetite for human flesh. (What else he and his mother lived on is not explained: wild animals? fish? water monsters?). His resemblances to berserks consist of his strength -- which is far beyond what is attributed to them in Old Norse sagas -- and his invulnerability to most (iron) weapons.

The last is specifically attributed to particular berserkers in some of the Icelandic sagas (in which they make stock villains for the hero to overcome). In one notable instance, in the great "Egil's Saga" (or "The Saga of Egil Skallagrimsson"), the warrior-poet Egil fights a duel with a berserk on behalf of others (an unusually generous effort on his part), and, finding that his sword isn't working, drops it, grapples with his enemy (like Beowulf), and bites his throat out (not Beowulfian behavior).

We really don't know if the Anglo-Saxons would have recognized any of this berserker-lore, especially before it could have been imported by "the Danes" after 800. (Our knowledge of pre-Christian English beliefs is very limited. They had a native word for "Valkyrie," but this may have been a loan-translation).

In the Old Norse sources, the image is a little confused. Some say that the name meant "bare-sark,' shirtless (or at least without a shirt of mail), while others suggest "bear-shirt," that is, wearing the skin of a bear.

The latter may be given a little extra weight by Snorri Sturluson's report, in the "Heimskringla" -- lives of the Norwegian kigns -- that the unifier of Norway, Harald the Fairhaired (something of a villain to the Icelanders) had in his following both berserks and "wolf-hide" men, who would seem to be a pretty good parallel. But Snorri (1179-1241) is centuries after the fact, and may have been guessing. (He may also have been the author of "Egil's Saga," so our data-base may be narrower than we would like.

[Kerstin]

Ian wrote: "And the Anglo-Saxons didn't get their Bible "straight" -- they got it through the glosses and interpretations of the Church Fathers, and they were also familiar with some apocryphal Christian writings ..."

This is a little confusing, Ian. What am I missing here?

The way I understand it, nobody got their Bible "straight." The New Testament canon wasn't ratified until about 419 AD, and the Church has always used the Septuagint version of the Hebrew Scriptures, which we now call the Old Testament. So in the interim between Christ and the Councils of Hippo and Carthage it was the Church Fathers who kept preserving and circulating certain texts that became the New Testament.
Wouldn't the Anglo Saxons in the 8th century, 400 + years later, be introduced to simply the Bible?

[Ian]

I skipped over a lot. The situation is a good deal more complicated. There is a whole lot of material in Beryl Smalley's old The Study of the Bible in the Middle Ages, which is my main source for some of what follows. It probably needs updating, but I'm not familiar with anything equivalent in English for the same period.

By the time of the Anglo-Saxon conversion (beginning c. 600), St. Jerome (d. 420) had long since given the Western, Latin, Church, an Old Testament translated directly from the Hebrew, bypassing the Septuagint (the source of the "Old Latin" translation) -- accidentally aggravating the differences that, centuries later, produced an official split between the Orthodox and the Catholics. And, with his New Testament, the commonly-received version, or Vulgate, rather promptly became surrounded by homilies and commentaries, carrying over older, often non-literal, traditions of how Christians had understood Scripture, particularly in light of the New Testament.

Simply reading the Bible, and drawing one's own conclusions, wasn't a practice much in favor. Except for lectionaries (non-continuous collections of readings for standard services), it came with at least explanatory glosses, and sometimes with commentaries, and sometimes the commentaries amounted to re-tellings. And commentaries were also read almost independently of the texts. (The Venerable Bede was possibly more famous during the early MIddle Ages for his irreproachably orthodox Bible commentaries than for his history of the English, although that survives in an impressive number of copies.)

This situation was not as extreme as in the High Middle Ages, when the official Glossed Bible was treated as authoritative for theologians, who departed from at their (serious) peril. But anyone encountering Genesis for the first time was certain to learn immediately that, for example, the serpent was Satan, and then about Satan's revolt against God, etc., none of which is evident in the Biblical narrative, but was inextricably associated with it (and provided the link to the New Testament story of salvation).

There was also a body of extra-scriptural literature, like the Gospel of Nicodemus, available: in this particular case, translated into Old English prose, for the edification of laymen, or at least monks whose Latin was shaky. Biblical translations (not yet prohibited by the Church, but not sponsored) were almost entirely liturgical: versions of the Lord's Prayer for laymen, for example, and prose and verse renderings of the Psalms: which last survive in unique copies, suggesting a less than extensive circulation, although this is always debatable with Old English texts, so many having been lost.

[Emil]

Kerstin wrote: "I have pretty much the same translation in German:

”Doch dem Gabenstuhl niemals er nähern sich durfte, das Größte vor Gott. Die Gnade ihm fern.”.."

Thanks Kerstin, looks like in your German translation "he" was also Grendel.

The translator used the pronoun "er" (he), but he added the conjunction "doch" (however, nevertheless) to connect this sentence to the previous one where Grendel was the subject.

In the O.E. text we don't have this "doch" , we just have three pieces of information:

1. He (Grendel) took over Heorot
2. He (Grendel/Hrothgar) couldn't approach the throne
3. This was a source of misery for the friend of the Scyldings (Hrothgar)

The translator connected 1 with 2 using"doch". It was his choice, his interpretation. If I put a "da" (because) instead, I could easily connect 2 with 3:

Da dem Gabenstuhl niemals er nähern sich durfte, . . . waren schlimm nun die Zeiten für für der Schildungen Freund (Because the throne was inaccessible to him, . . . the times were hard for the Friend of the Scyldings)


I suppose most translators thought "he" = Grendel because of this line:

"máþðum for metode, né his myne wisse" (for he was prevented by the Maker, a stranger to Him.)

But who's a stranger to God? In this case the Scyldings and their king, not Grendel. We are told this after a few lines, when the author is describing their heathen ways:

"metod híe ne cúþon" ( the Maker they did not know).

I wonder if the couplets from "So Grendel waged his lonely war," until "and find friendship in the Father's embrace." ( O.E. 164 - 188) were added later on by the Christian author in order to present Grendel as God's punishment for idolatry.

[Marieke]

Emil wrote: "Kerstin wrote: "I have pretty much the same translation in German:

”Doch dem Gabenstuhl niemals er nähern sich durfte, das Größte vor Gott. Die Gnade ihm fern.”.."

Thanks Kerstin, looks like in y..."

Does that than mean that Hrothgar, being a heathen, brought Grendel upon himself (and of course his people)?

I thought the building of the hall might be conceived as hubris, but I don't know wether there's an equivalent of this concept in the culture the story is about.

[Tamara]

Marieke wrote: "Does that than mean that Hrothgar, being a heathen, brought Grendel upon himself (and of course his people)?

I thought the building of the hall might be conceived as hubris, but I don't know wether there's an equivalent of this concept in the culture the story is about..."

If you interpret it that way, Grendel becomes an instrument of God sent to punish Hrothgar for hubris. But I don't think that works because Heorot is described in positive terms and Hrothgar is praised for his generosity toward his people.

[Ian]

Marieke wrote: "I thought the building of the hall might be conceived as hubris, but I don't know wether there's an equivalent of this concept in the culture the story is about...."

There is probably an approximate equivalent of hubris in Old English: ofermod. The two elements still survive in Modern English, as "over" and "mood," but the latter is a specialized and minimized sense. It means something more like "spirit," "pride," or, in the recent colloquial, "attitude." It shows up in the "Battle of Maldon," the lament for the defeat of an English army by the Vikings (991), in which the leader Byrthnoth, 'in his ofermod" yields space to the Vikings to allow them to close with his his army. Tolkien wrote an essay on this, in which he renders it "over-mastering pride," and compared it to Beowulf's decision to fight a dragon alone.

This would not seem to apply well to Hrothgar, who is simply doing what is expected of a good king: tactical, let alone strategic, considerations don't enter into it.

Digression in passing: Tolkien was probably right about the poem's position, and about Byrthnoth's tactical mistake, if this is represented accurately. But I am not sure that the poem's condemnation as to motive is completely fair to Byrhtnoth.

The bulk of his army, raw levies, was likely to just go home when it ran out of food -- logistics were non-existent. And the "Danes" -- who may have included other Scandinavians -- faced with food shortages of their own could just board their ships and attack elsewhere, passing the problem to someone else.

Accepting a challenge to battle may have seemed the responsible course, as well as the one dictated by "excessive pride."

(A generation or so earlier the English might have been better prepared, with fixed points of defense in good condition, and well-supplied, but this was during the disastrous reign of "Aethelred the Unready," in which "buying off" the Vikings was more popular than maintaining the "unnecessary" network of defensive "burgs" going back to Alfred the Great's immediate descendants.)

[Marieke]

Ian wrote: "Marieke wrote: "I thought the building of the hall might be conceived as hubris, but I don't know wether there's an equivalent of this concept in the culture the story is about...."

There is proba..."

both 'overmoed' and 'hoogmoed' are still used in Dutch language and have quite similar meanings, although 'overmoed' mostly is used as an adjective (i.e. overmoedig) and could equivalent to being too confident of an outcome. Litteraly transated it is 'too much courage' or pride.

'Hoogmoed' is mostly used as a noun, with similar meaning, mostly known for the proverb 'hoogmoed komt voor de val', which quite literaly translates to: too much pride comes before the fall.

What is funny is that the first Egnlish translation for 'overmoed' that is given on google is 'hubris'

[David]

Emil wrote: "I suppose most translators interpreted "he" as Grendel because of..."

Compelling evidence. Some vague pronouns or more vague than others which is a fair error since It was the middle ages and Old English teachers were probably scarce.

The argument on the basis of the original text seems valid, and I agree that Grendel keeps Hrothgar from the throne, at least by night. Why couldn't Hrothgar rule from there during the daylight? We are told at one point that Heorot was abandoned,

the greatest house 145 in the world stood empty, a deserted wallstead.

However, Heorot appears at least to have been used during the day because Hrothgar is in the hall and meets Beowulf there upon his arrival, as he had other heroes who came there to drink and try their hand at killing Grendel only to return the next day to a "painted house".(view spoiler)[

But when dawn broke and day crept in
over each empty, blood-spattered bench,
(485) the floor of the mead-hall where they had feasted
would be slick with slaughter.

(hide spoiler)]

Perhaps we also need to consider what is not said. We are never told Grendel wrecked the throne or seated himself upon it. One would think that destroying or sitting upon a throne would be the ultimate gesture of contempt and defiance for a usurper; too important a point to leave out.

[Emil]

David wrote: " It was the middle ages and Old English teachers were probably scarce. ..."

Haha good one. Fortunately the critics were even scarcer !


Why couldn't Hrothgar rule from there during the daylight?

This is pure speculation, but could it be that the throne (ġifstōl) means not only the physical throne, but also the institution? Like the word "seat" in modern English. Maybe Tamara or Ian could let me know if I'm talking nonsense.

In this case, Hrothgar not being able to approach his throne would mean that he was not able to exert his authority with Grendel lurking around.


"Perhaps we also need to consider what is not said. We are never told Grendel wrecked the throne or seated himself upon it. One would think that destroying or sitting upon a throne would be the ultimate gesture of contempt and defiance for a usurper; too important a point to leave out. ..."


Or the throne never interested Grendel, he was just having some loud Scyldings for breakfast...

[Ian]

Emil wrote: "This is pure speculation, but could it be that the throne (ġifstōl) means not only the physical throne, but also the institution? Like the word "seat" in modern English. Maybe Tamara or Ian could let me know if I'm talking nonsense. ..."

It is not nonsense, although I am not sure that the abstract meaning is helpful here.

Klaeber's Beowulf treats it as concrete in meaning, with modern technical references I can't follow up,
but also sends the reader to the Oxford English Dictionary entry for STOOL. I have the ("compact," i.e., miniaturized) original edition, where it occupies three pages, but which is not all that helpful on this, although the most recent might edition be clearer.

(Or I missed something in reading the entries in tiny print, which requires a magnifying glass [included in the purchase price]: Tolkien did this with a couple of words in the full-size edition, where the meaning he was looking for was tucked away in an unexpected sub-heading, so with that as a precedent I'm not assuming I got this right.)

I don't have access to the modern Dictionary of Old English, but I have a couple of electronic editions of the old (nineteenth-century) Bosworth-Toller A compendious Anglo-Saxon and English dictionary, which are at least much easier to search than the OED. It gives, as a "literal and figurative" meaning, the throne or seat / see of a king or bishop. The latter might be under the influence of Church-Latin cathedra, classically a cushioned seat, or the chair of a teacher, and I suppose that the loan-translation could have extended to the royal meaning as well.

My sense of the poem is that here it is the material object, but I can't think of a way to demonstrate that.

However, Bosworth-Toller reports that -stol combines with twenty-two other words (including gif-), and I haven't had the patience to look up all of them for an institutional meaning which might be applicable, rather than relatively concrete or simply metaphorical one.

[Roger]

Unlike the Greek and Latin epics, Beowulf does not start in media res. Far from it--it starts with the ancestry of the key figures.

[David]

Roger wrote: "Unlike the Greek and Latin epics, Beowulf does not start in media res. Far from it--it starts with the ancestry of the key figures."

But not quite so far back to be, "as Horace says, ab Ovo."

Sterne, Laurence. The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman (Penguin Classics) (p. 8).

The beginning does raise some questions. We know the Ancient Greeks were always trying to tie their family to some god, demi-god, or hero to gain prestige. Was this an Ango-Saxon practice as well? Why does Beowulf begin with the genealogy of the Scyldings instead of Beowulf's own genealogy?

[Roger]

The delayed appearance of Beowulf heightens anticipation.

[Ian]

David wrote: "Why does Beowulf begin with the genealogy of the Scyldings instead of Beowulf's own genealogy?..."

I suspect that this is to allow the poem to start with already famous large-scale events, instead of with the feuding misadventures of Beowulf's father, and how Hrothgar was his benefactor, which might not get much attention (and which we instead hear about from the king): but I wouldn't want to argue that case too strongly.

There is also the possibility that Beowulf had no traditional genealogy, except maybe a father, whose name, peculiarly, doesn't alliterate. (Not necessary, but common.) Tolkien, for example, thought of him as a folktale character who has been inserted in legendary history with great skill. (The point of "Sellic Spell.")

Tolkien also suspected that the whole Scylding proem was a set-piece that was older than "Beowulf" itself: he based this on a sense of style. Recently, Michael Drout and a team of graduate students (with, I think, some statisticians), did a computer analysis of the poem, testing features of syntax and vocabulary, and reached the conclusion that the introductory section indeed stands out from the rest of the poem, in ways that were probably beyond a poet's conscious control.

By the way, Tolkien is often quoted as proving in "Beowulf: The Monsters and the Critics" that the poem as we have it is a unity, by a single poet. He didn't actually say that, but tried to demonstrate an artistic design over the whole, instead of a bunch of random episodes and flashbacks: but he explicitly considered some passages interpolations (and, as with the prologue, suspected "borrowings" from existing heroic songs).

[Kathy]

Roger wrote: "Unlike the Greek and Latin epics, Beowulf does not start in media res. Far from it--it starts with the ancestry of the key figures."

I was actually intrigued by Heaney's choice for the first word: "So." That made me feel as if it does start in media res. From the very beginning, I was made to wonder what had been said before and what we are missing--even a companion poem, perhaps.

Turns out, Heaney explains his thinking in the introduction. In OE, the first word is "hwaet," which Heaney says has "conventionally" been translated as "lo," "hark," "behold," "attend," "listen." But he heard in the tone of the speaker the voice of his ancestors ("big voiced Scullions"), in whose idiom "'so' operates as an expression which obliterates all previous discourse and narrative, and at the same time functions as an exclamation calling for immediate attention."

The point stands that something (obviously) came before, and "so" draws attention to that. It read to me as mysterious and also a reminder that this story does not stand alone--even if today, we can assume we are missing many of the stories that once would have been recited as its contemporaries.

[Kathy]

A propos of the conversation about sympathy with Grendel, has anyone read John Gardner's novel Grendel?

From Goodreads: "The first and most terrifying monster in English literature, from the great early epic Beowulf, tells his side of the story in a book William Gass called 'one of the finest of our contemporary fictions.'"

[Tamara]

Kathy wrote: "Turns out, Heaney explains his thinking in the introduction. In OE, the first word is "hwaet," which Heaney says has "conventionally" been translated as "lo," "hark," "behold," "attend," "listen.."

Maria Dahvana Headley translates "hwaet" as "Bro" in line with her reading of the poem as "the sort of competitive conversations I've often heard between men, one insisting on his right to the floor while simultaneously insisting that he's friendly."
(From her Introduction).

[Tamara]

Kathy wrote: "A propos of the conversation about sympathy with Grendel, has anyone read John Gardner's novel Grendel?

From Goodreads: "The first and most terrifying monster in English literature, from the grea..."

It's been several years since I last read it. I loved it and need to read it, again. Maybe my feelings of sympathy for Grendel have been influenced by Gardner's wonderful novel.

[Emil]

Roger wrote: "Unlike the Greek and Latin epics, Beowulf does not start in media res. Far from it--it starts with the ancestry of the key figures."

Reminds me of the Gospel of Matthew, the first book of the New Testament:

1:2 Abraham begat Isaac; and Isaac begat Jacob; and Jacob begat Judas and his brethren;
. . .
1:16 And Jacob begat Joseph the husband of Mary, of whom was born Jesus, who is called Christ.


Starting with an ancestry gives historicity and credibility to a folk tale. It's like a bridge between mythology and history. If Beowulf or the Gospel of Matthew would start with "once upon a time in a faraway land" nobody would ever consider them historical.

[Ian]

Kathy wrote: "A propos of the conversation about sympathy with Grendel, has anyone read John Gardner's novel Grendel?

From Goodreads: "The first and most terrifying monster in English literature, from the grea..."

Yes, but too long ago to discuss it -- probably within a year of its publication in 1971. I think it was assigned reading in a pioneering course at UCLA on Tolkien, taught by Randel Helms, later transformed into Tolkien's World, one of the very first book-length critical discussions (the title has been used by others in the decades since).

(I do recall that we bought the hardcover Grendel because it had not come out in paperback, and so was less than a year after its hardcover appearance, following reprint standard at the time.)

[Kathy]

Tamara wrote: Maria Dahvana Headley translates "hwaet" as "Bro" in line with her reading of the poem as "the sort of competitive conversations I've often heard between men

Ha, that's hilarious! Quite contemporary. ;)

[Tamara]

Kathy wrote: "Ha, that's hilarious! Quite contemporary..."

Her translation is very original, contemporary, and audacious. I highly recommend it. But a word of caution: it is definitely not your father's Beowulf.

[[deleted user]]

Tamara wrote: "Kathy wrote: "Ha, that's hilarious! Quite contemporary..."

Her translation is very original, contemporary, and audacious. I highly recommend it. But a word of caution: it is definitely not your fa..."

I am absolutely loving Headley's translation as I read it alongside Heaney's.

[Chris]

WOW!! What an education, so much to read and absorb. Appreciate everyone's comments and various history lessons!

I did pick up on the foreshadowing starting with the funeral, thinking there are more funerals to come and could it be our stalwart hero's funeral? Also as Borum mentioned, the blood-feud foreshadowing. Although when I read all the comments about the Cain & Abel story, I started to wonder if the narrator was referring to that. The Creation story certainly follows on the heels of the ancestral lineage description and the funeral.

I am in the don't feel sorry for Grendel camp. He represents evil, being outside the "circle of light" as Tamara refers to or cast from God's grace "powerful spirit dwelling in darkness". In my translation Grendel is introduced as follows: "So the company of men led a careless life, and all was well with them: until One began to encompass evil, an enemy from hell. Grendel they called this cruel spirit..."

Does Beowulf every state how he came to know that the Danes were in trouble? I guess after 12 years of destruction & slaughter, the word could spread to Geat ( Sweden?).

[Ian]

Chris wrote: "Does Beowulf every state how he came to know that the Danes were in trouble? I guess after 12 years of destruction & slaughter, the word could spread to Geat ( Sweden?)...."

If we take the twelve years seriously, Beowulf had probably been hearing about this since he was a boy, so his delayed response makes perfect sense.

Where the Geats belong used to be a problem: there were some who identified as the Jutesn (Eotas), and located them in the Danish peninsula of Jutland -- a position which Tolkien considered lunacy. One of his personal heroes, R.W. Chambers, pretty much proved the philological identity of the Geats and the (Old Norse) Gauts, which should have settled the question.

Geatland/Gautland/Götaland is now a southern part of Sweden, but at some point (probably) before the Viking Age it was absorbed into that kingdom, retaining some different laws and customs. The Swedish kings much later boasted of being "rex Sveorum et Gothorum" (if I remember their Latin title), and tried to claim diplomatic precedence over other European monarchs because of their supposed relationship to the Visigoths and Ostrogoths. (And in fact Geat and Gaut are probably the same word as Goth, but the ancestral relationship is be no means clear.)

Geatland may never have been really unified, as the Old English poem would have it: the Icelandic sources (which are few and late for this), usually distinguish East and West Gautland, perhaps politically as well as geographically.

However, one of the legendary saga characters who resembles Beowulf in certain aspects, Bothvar Bjarki (Warlike Little-Bear) had a brother who was made king of Gautland because he was big enough to fill the very large throne, which assumes unity, for the purposes of that story.

[Alexey]

Ian wrote: "However, one of the legendary saga characters who resembles Beowulf in certain aspects, Bothvar Bjarki (Warlike Little-Bear) had a brother who was made king of Gautland because he was big enough to fill the very large throne, which assumes unity, for the purposes of that story."

That's really a good way to chose a king. And I'm only partially sarcastic: since choosing a double-sized throne to symbolise unity, you are bound to choose the king who does not look ridiculous on it.

[Damien]

Sorry I’m a bit late. I only just started.

There too much discussion for me to read, but I skimmed over much of it. I’d like to respond to Rogers’s comment that Beowulf isn’t at Heorot to help Hrothgar. He claims that because Beowulf sets out to disadvantage himself when fighting Grendel, it is not his primary goal to help Hrothgar and save Heorot. I think that the restraints he abides by do not contradict his having the main goal of saving Heorot. The restrictions are outside of the purview of his decision making process. While he could not follow the impeding rules, doing so would lose his grace with God and lose him the battle in the end. The honourable methods he plans to carry out his actions by are actually held as his standard because of God’s will. This is, at least, why I think the story is telling the tale of Beowulf fighting Grendel not for glory, but for Hrothgar.

So, in the introduction of my copy of the book, the translator points out the alliteration throughout the story. I probably would’ve taken a lot longer to pick up on this style had I not read about it. This is my favourite part of the experience right now. I like sounding out the words in my head so that I can appreciate the alliteration.

Thanks to everyone else for leaving discussion comments even though I wasn’t able to get to them all.