Beowulf Boasts
Heroes. Heroes Everywhere.
If the setting, characters, and use of language are starting to echo other historical times and contexts, you are right. Think Vikings, Samurai, and Knights. The ethical code of these ancient, often violent, societies valued strong warrior-kings who could protect their people from outside threats (primarily, other warrior-kings and their armies). Under this code, warriors were expected to demonstrate unwavering courage, loyalty to their leader and strength and skill in combat. Go ahead. Look up these various warrior societies and compare. The Samurai make a particularly interesting parallel to the Anglo-Saxon culture with the Samurai code grounded in honor and duty, absolute loyalty to the daimyo, and a commitment to justice, whatever form that might take. Go ahead. Look it up and draw the parallels.
For warriors who conformed to these expectations, the rewards included treasure, the chance to become a king and, above all, fame. Beowulf is presented as the ideal warrior. He is arguably inhumanly brave and strong. He is loyal to his king, Hygelac, and he leaps to take revenge even against opponents who haven’t harmed him personally (like Grendel and Grendel’s mother). He values fame more than life itself: “Let whoever can / win glory before death. When a warrior is gone, / that will be his best and only bulwark.” Here the warrior cultures sometimes part ways. For example, the homogenous character of Japan, an island nation, in general values the society as a whole, and duty to the clan most of all. Albeit the Samurai clan was more cohesive and centralized than Scandinavia’s warrior societies. Consider the ramifications of the Anglo-Saxon culture on our ethics and value systems today.
As noted, the fifth episode of Beowulf is set in Scandinavia, sometime in the fifth or sixth century A.D. However, Beowulf was written not in sixth-century Scandinavia, but in Anglo-Saxon England between the eighth and eleventh centuries. The Samurai era came shortly after this – from the twelfth century to 1876 when the Samurai class was outlawed.
The people of Anglo-Saxon England had migrated from Scandinavia, and in the centuries since the migration they had begun to develop a different set of ethical values, strongly influenced by their conversion to Christianity. Beowulf demonstrates profound skepticism about the ultimate value of the Scandinavian warrior code. In contrast, Japanese society has never given up on admiration for and emulation of the Samurai class. Jonathan Clements, in The Samurai: The Way of Japan’s Elite Warriors, states, “Nothing happens in modern Japan that is not an imitation of … or reaction to … the ‘way of the samurai.” In the West, is there a parallel reference point?
NOTE: Because the subject of heroes and boasting has been put forth, the segment below has a few lines in bold, indicating a few of Beowulf’s boasts.
And so, my request, O king of Bright-Danes,
Dear prince pf the Shieldings, friend of the people And their ring of defense, my one request
Is that you won’t refuse me, who have come this far, 430
The privilege of purifying Heorot,
With my own men to help me, and nobody else.
I have heard moreover that the monster scorns
in his reckless way to use weapons;
Therefore, to heighten Hygelac’s fame
And gladden his heart, I hereby renounce Sword and the shelter of the broad shield, the heavy war-board: hand-to-hand
Is how it will be, a life-and-death
Fight with the fiend. Whichever one death fells 440
Must deem it a just judgment by God.
If Grendel wins, it will be a gruesome day;
He will glut himself on the Geats in the war-hall,
Swoop without fear on that flower of manhood As on others before. Then my face won’t be there
To be covered in death; he will carry me away
As he goes to ground, gorged and bloodied;
He will run gloating with my raw corpse
And feed on it alone, in a cruel frenzy,
Fouling his moor-nest. No need then 450
To lament for long or lay out my body:
If the battle takes me, send back
This breast-webbing that Weland fashioned
And Hrethel gave me, to Hygelac.
Fate goes ever as fate must.”
Hrothgar, the helmet of the Shieldings, spoke: “Beowulf, my friend, you have traveled here
To favour us with help and fight for us.
There was a feud one time, begun by your father.
With his own hands he had killed Heatholaf, 460
Who was a Wulfing; so war was looming
And his people, in fear of it, forced him to leave.
He came away then over rolling waves
To the South Danes here, the sons of honor.
I was then in the full flush of kingship,
Establishing my sway over all the rich strongholds
Of this heroic land. Heorogar,
My older brother and the better man,
Also a son of Halfdane’s, had died.
Finally I healed the feud by paying: 470
I shipped a treasure-trove to the Wulfings
And Ecgtheow acknowledged me with oaths of allegiance.
“It bothers me to have to burden anyone
With all the grief Grendel has caused
And the havoc he has wreaked upon us in Heorot,
Our humiliations. My household-guard
Are on the wane, fate sweeps them away
Into Grendel’s clutches---but God can easily
Halt these raids and harrowing attacks!
“Time and again, when the goblets passed 480
And seasoned fighters got flushed with beer
They would pledge themselves to protect Heorot
And wait for Grendel with whetted swords.
But when dawn broke and day crept in
Over each empty, blood-spattered bench,
The floor of the mead-hall where they had feasted
Would be slick with slaughter. And so they died,
Faithful retainers, and my following dwindled.
Now take your place at the table, relish
The triumph of heroes to your heart’s content.” 490
Then a bench was cleared in that banquet hall
So the Geats could have room to be together
And the party sat, proud in their bearing,
Strong and stalwart. An attendant stood by
With a decorated pitcher, pouring bright Helpings of mead. And the minstrel sang, Filling Heorot with his head-clearing voice, Gladdening that great rally of Danes and Geats.
From where he crouched at the king’s feet,
Unferth, a son of Ecglaf’s, spoke 500
Contrary words. Beowulf’s coming,
His sea-braving, made him sick with envy:
He could not brook or abide the fact That anyone else alive under heaven Might enjoy greater regard than he did:
“Are you the Beowulf who took on Breca
In a swimming match on the open sea, Risking the water just to prove you could win? It was sheer vanity made you venture out
On the main deep. And no matter who tried, 510
Friend or foe, to deflect the pair of you,
Neither would back down: the sea-test obsessed you.
You waded in, embracing water,
Taking its measure, mastering currents,
Riding on the swell. The ocean swayed,
Winter went wild in the waves, but you vied
For seven nights; and then he outswam you,
Came ashore the stronger contender.
He was cast up safe and sound one morning
Among the Heathoreams, then made his way 520
To where he belonged in Bronding country,
Home again, sure of his ground
In strong room and bawn. So Breca made good
His boast upon you and was proved right.
No matter, therefore, how you may have fared
In every bout and battle until now,
This time you’ll be worsted;; no one has ever Outlasted an entire night against Grendel.”
Beowulf, Ecgtheow’s son, replied:
“Well, friend Unferth, you have had your say 530
About Breca and me. But it was mostly beer
That was doing the talking. The truth is this:
When the going was heavy in those high waves,
I was the strongest swimmer of all.
We’d been children together and we grew up Daring ourselves to outdo each other,
Boasting and urging each other to risk
Our lives on the sea. And so it turned out.
Each of us swam holding a sword,
A naked, hard-proofed blade for protection 540
Against the whale-beasts. But Breca could never
Move out farther or faster from me
Than I could manage to move from him. Shoulder to shoulder, we struggled on For five nights, until the long flow
And pitch of the waves, the perishing cold,
Night falling and winds from the North
Drove us apart. The deep boiled up
And its wallowing sent the sea-brutes wild.
My armor held me to hold out; 550
My hard-ringed chain-mail, hand-forged and linked
A fine, close-fitting filigree of gold,
Kept me safe when some ocean creature
Pulled me to the bottom. Pinioned fast And swathed in its grip, I was granted one
Final chance: my sword plunged
And the ordeal was over. Through my own hands
The fury of battle had finished off the sea-beast.
“Time and again, foul things attacked me,
Lurking and stalking, but I lashed out, 560
Gave as good as I got with my sword.
My flesh was not for feasting on,
There would be no monsters gnawing and gloating
Over their banquet at the bottom of the sea.
Instead, in the morning, mangled and sleeping
The sleep of the sword, they slopped and floated
Like the ocean’s leavings. From now on
Sailors would the safe, the deep-sea raids
Were over for good. Light came from the East,
Bright guarantee of God, and the waves 570
Went quiet; I could see the headlands
And buffeted cliffs. Often, for undaunted courage,
Fate spares the man it has not already marked.
However it had occurred, my sword had killed
Nine sea monsters. Such night-dangers
And hard ordeals I have never heard of
Nor of a man so desolate in surging waves.
worn out as I was, I survived,
Came through with my life. The ocean lifted
And laid me ashore, I landed safe 580
On the coast of Finland.
Now, I cannot recall any fight you entered, Unferth,
That bears comparison. I don’t boast when I say
That neither you nor Breca ever were much
Celebrated for swordsmanship
Or for facing danger in the battlefield.
You killed your own kith and kin,
So for all your cleverness and quick tongue,
You will suffer damnation in the pits of hell.
The fact it, Unferth, if you were truly 590
As keen or courageous as you claim to be Grendel would never have got away with
Such unchecked atrocity, attacks on your king,
Havoc in Heorot and horrors everywhere.
But he knows he need never be in dread
Of your blade making a mizzle of his blood
Or of vengeance arriving ever from this quarter---
From the Victory-Shieldings, the shoulderers of the spear.
He knows he can trample down you Danes
To his heart’s content, humiliate and murder 600
Without fear of reprisal. But he will find me different. I will show him how Geats shape to kill
In the heat of battle. Then whoever wants to
May go bravely to morning mead, when morning light, Scarfed in sun-dazzle, shines forth from the south
And brings another daybreak to the world.”
Then the gray-haired treasure-giver was glad;
Far-famed in battle, the prince of Bright-Danes
And keeper of his people counted on Beowulf,
On the warrior’s steadfastness and his word. 610
So the laughter started, the din got louder
And the crowd was happy. Wealhtheow came in,
Hrothgar’s queen, observing the courtesies. Adorned in her gold, she graciously saluted The men in the hall, then handed the cup First to Hrothgar, their homeland’s guardian, Urging him to drink deep and enjoy it,
Because he was dear to them. And he drank it down
Like the warlord he was, with festive cheer.
So the Helming woman went on her rounds, 620
Queenly and dignified, decked out in rings, Offering the goblet to all ranks,
Treating the household and the assembled troop
Until it was Beowulf’s turn to take it from her hand.
With measured words she welcomed the Geat
And thanked God for granting her wish
That a deliverer she could believe in would arrive
To ease their afflictions. He accepted the cup,
A daunting man, dangerous in action
And eager for it always. He addressed Wealhtheow; 630
Beowulf, son of Ecgtheow, said:
“I had a fixed purpose when I put out to sea.
As I sat in the boat with my band of men,
I meant to perform to the uttermost
What your people wanted or perish in the attempt,
In the fiend’s clutches. And I shall fulfill that purpose,
Prove myself with a proud deed
Or meet my death here in the mead-hall.”
This formal boast by Beowulf the Geat
Pleased the lady well and she went to sit 640
By Hrothgar, regal and arrayed with gold.
Background
To be clear, Beowulf was originally written in West Saxon dialect of Old English. [Old English was followed by Middle English.] The date it was written is disputed, but generally agreed between 700 and 1000 AD. Other scholars place the writing between 975 and 1025. One original manuscript still exists and was damaged by fire in 1731. It is about 3200 lines.
Exploration 1: Is Beowulf a hero? If so, what characteristics make him so? If not, what about him do you see as keeping him from hero status?
Exploration 2: What do you think of Seamus Heaney’s translation in this post and the last?
Exploration 3: Speculate why warrior societies have strong similarities. For example, why honor and duty? Allegiance to leadership?
Exploration 4: Grendel is coming. What allegiances might he have?
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