Winter. Balancing on a log, you squat by the fire, near the others in the circle. Northern latitude of snow and ice – and darkness. All is quiet except the scop (pronounced /SHäp/) telling the familiar story that springs new and different each time told. The energy in the circle crackles as the storyteller gestures, leers, jumps, shouts, and incites reactions from his audience.
Theirs is a story of heroes and monsters, of good and evil, of men whose stories roll through the centuries, alive today, surviving, shifting, taking our heart blood into itself, adding to the hero’s story that rolls through the ages. These Anglo Saxons regarded their bards as equal to their warriors, because similar to the warriors protecting the population and territory, so the scop protected the legends and authentic histories of his people.
In previous weeks, this Monday Poetry post featured two Romantic Era poets – Wordsworth and Blake. Today, and for an undetermined number of weeks, we’ll virtually sit around that winter fire to consider Beowulf: An Anglo-Saxon Poem, as translated by John Lesslie Hall. The author of this epic is unknown, perhaps anonymous because more than a few poets extended and embellished the story, and that synergistic effort eventually melded into a unified chorus.
Beowulf – An Anglo-Saxon Poem
I
THE LIFE AND DEATH OF SCYLD.
The famous race of Spear-Danes.
Lo! the Spear-Danes’ glory through splendid achievements
The folk-kings’ former fame we have heard of,
How princes displayed then their prowess-in-battle.
Scyld, their mighty king, in honor of whom they are often called Scyldings. He is the great-grandfather of Hrothgar, so prominent in the poem.
Oft Scyld the Scefing from scathers in numbers
5
From many a people their mead-benches tore.
Since first he found him friendless and wretched,
The earl had had terror: comfort he got for it,
Waxed ’neath the welkin, world-honor gained,
Till all his neighbors o’er sea were compelled to
10
Bow to his bidding and bring him their tribute:
An excellent atheling! After was borne him
A son is born to him, who receives the name of Beowulf—a name afterwards made so famous by the hero of the poem.
A son and heir, young in his dwelling,
Whom God-Father sent to solace the people.
He had marked the misery malice had caused them,
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1That reaved of their rulers they wretched had erstwhile
Long been afflicted. The Lord, in requital,
Wielder of Glory, with world-honor blessed him.
Famed was Beowulf, far spread the glory
Of Scyld’s great son in the lands of the Danemen.
The ideal Teutonic king lavishes gifts on his vassals.
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So the carle that is young, by kindnesses rendered
The friends of his father, with fees in abundance
Must be able to earn that when age approacheth
Eager companions aid him requitingly,
When war assaults him serve him as liegemen:
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By praise-worthy actions must honor be got
’Mong all of the races. At the hour that was fated
Scyld dies at the hour appointed by Fate.
Scyld then departed to the All-Father’s keeping
Warlike to wend him; away then they bare him
To the flood of the current, his fond-loving comrades,
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As himself he had bidden, while the friend of the Scyldings
Word-sway wielded, and the well-lovèd land-prince
Long did rule them. The ring-stemmèd vessel,
Bark of the atheling, lay there at anchor,
Icy in glimmer and eager for sailing;
By his own request, his body is laid on a vessel and wafted seaward.
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The belovèd leader laid they down there,
Giver of rings, on the breast of the vessel,
The famed by the mainmast. A many of jewels,
Of fretted embossings, from far-lands brought over,
Was placed near at hand then; and heard I not ever
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That a folk ever furnished a float more superbly
With weapons of warfare, weeds for the battle,
Bills and burnies; on his bosom sparkled
Many a jewel that with him must travel
On the flush of the flood afar on the current.
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And favors no fewer they furnished him soothly,
Excellent folk-gems, than others had given him
He leaves Daneland on the breast of a bark.
Who when first he was born outward did send him
Lone on the main, the merest of infants:
And a gold-fashioned standard they stretched under heaven
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High o’er his head, let the holm-currents bear him,
Seaward consigned him: sad was their spirit,
Their mood very mournful. Men are not able
No one knows whither the boat drifted.
Soothly to tell us, they in halls who reside
Heroes under heaven, to what haven he hied.
Background
Beowulf is our first great epic. It is an epitomized history of the life of the Teutonic races. It brings vividly before us our forefathers of pre-Alfredian eras, in their love of war, of sea, and of adventure. John Leslie Hall characterizes it this way"
"THE present work is an effort to reproduce approximately, in modern measures, the venerable epic, Beowulf. Approximately, I repeat; for a very close reproduction of Anglo-Saxon verse would, to a large extent, be prose to a modern ear.
The Heyne-Socin text and glossary have been closely followed. Occasionally a deviation has been made, but always for what seemed good and sufficient reason. The translator does not aim to be an editor. Once in a while, however, he has added a conjecture of his own to the emendations quoted from the criticisms of other students of the poem.
This work is addressed to two classes of readers. From both of these alike the translator begs sympathy and co-operation. The Anglo-Saxon scholar he hopes to please by adhering faithfully to the original. The student of English literature he aims to interest by giving him, in modern garb, the most ancient epic of our race. This is a bold and venturesome undertaking; and yet there must be some students of the Teutonic past willing to follow even a daring guide, if they may read in modern phrases of the sorrows of Hrothgar, of the prowess of Beowulf, and of the feelings that stirred the hearts of our forefathers in their primeval homes.
In order to please the larger class of readers, a regular cadence has been used, a measure which, while retaining the essential characteristics of the original, permits the reader to see ahead of him in reading.
Though it is often viewed both as the archetypal Anglo-Saxon literary work and as a cornerstone of modern literature, Beowulf has a peculiar history that complicates both its historical and its canonical position in English literature. By the time the story of Beowulf was composed by an unknown Anglo-Saxon poet around 700 a.d., much of its material had been in circulation in oral narrative for many years. The Anglo-Saxon and Scandinavian peoples had invaded the island of Britain and settled there several hundred years earlier, bringing with them several closely related Germanic languages that would evolve into Old English. Elements of the Beowulf story—including its setting and characters—date back to the period before the migration. The action of the poem takes place around 500 a.d. Many of the characters in the poem—the Swedish and Danish royal family members, for example—correspond to actual historical figures. Originally pagan warriors, the Anglo-Saxon and Scandinavian invaders experienced a large-scale conversion to Christianity at the end of the sixth century. Though still an old pagan story, Beowulf thus came to be told by a Christian poet. The Beowulf poet is often at pains to attribute Christian thoughts and motives to his characters, who frequently behave in distinctly un-Christian ways. The Beowulf that we read today is therefore probably quite unlike the Beowulf with which the first Anglo-Saxon audiences were familiar. The element of religious tension is quite common in Christian Anglo-Saxon writings (The Dream of the Rood, for example), but the combination of a pagan story with a Christian narrator is fairly unusual. The plot of the poem concerns Scandinavian culture, but much of the poem’s narrative intervention reveals that the poet’s culture was somewhat different from that of his ancestors, and that of his characters as well."
Exploration 1: What’s the purpose, if any, in keeping ancient stories alive and in print and in other art forms?
Exploration 2: Why has Beowulf survived so long?
Exploration 3: Keeping in mind that Beowulf is here and elsewhere translated to modern English from Anglo-Saxon (incomprehensible to most readers today), is the effort that more than a dozen translators have made worth it?
NOTES:
If any reader would like definitions of any words used in this or other segment of the poem, and/or a description of any character(s), and/or interpretation of notations, contact Catherine Stenzel at catherineastenzel@gmail.com who will give you proper references.
The Project Gutenberg is the source of the poem’s translation used in this post. This source and its product are “for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org.
1. To keep the scholars busy.
ReplyDelete2. It was lucky. There was one copy in existence when the library caught fire in 1731.
The manuscript survived though badly singed.
3. I like the Seamus Heaney translation. Why is this epic in need of translation considered the start of English lit? It's not about people living in England. The high point involves killing a female, albeit a female monster. I do love Beowulf despite my quibbles.