Blogging Beowulf: Fit VII, Lines 456-498

20 February 2009

This is a very short fit, only 42 lines. It opens with Hrothgar responding to Beowulf’s boast by recounting his personal history with the hero. Beowulf’s father, Ecgtheow, started a feud with a neighboring people, the Wylfings, by killing one of their warriors. The Geats forced Ecgtheow to flee, as harboring him would be too dangerous. Ecgtheow fled to Denmark, where Hrothgar was a young king. Hrothgar paid the blood money to end the feud and Ecgtheow became one of his thanes for a number of years—it was not unusual for men from different nations to serve a king; Wulfgar, Hrothgar’s advisor who welcomed Beowulf to Heorot is a Wendle (Vandal?). Presumably, Hrothgar knew Beowulf as a boy during this period. Hrothgar goes on to tell, in gory detail, about Grendel’s predations and, with that appetizing thought, invites Beowulf and his men to feast. The fit ends with a round of drinking.

The fit starts with what is an intractable scribal error:

Hrōðgār maþelode,      helm Scyldinga:
“Fere fyhtum þū,      wine mīn Bēowulf,
ond for ārstafum      ūsiċ sōhtest.”

(Hrothgar declaimed,      the protector of the Scyldings,
“You [????] fights,      my friend Beowulf,
and because of favors,      have sought us.”)

There are lots of hypotheses about what the poet intended, but two are leading contenders. One hypothesis amends the fere to read for, meaning on account of, and replaces fyhtum, fights, with ġewyrhtum, meaning service, so the line would translate as “you, on account of service...” In other words, because of the debt Beowulf’s father owed Hrothgar. To the modern reader, it seems strange to confuse Ws, Rs, and Fs, but in Old English script these letters are very similar and it is plausible that a scribe could have confused them.

The second leading hypothesis replaces the fere fyhtum with werefyhtum, a fight caused by a feud, wer (literally, man) being the payment for a wrongful death. In this case, the for is implied by the dative ending, -um, and is not strictly required. Again, this would be reference to the service owed to Hrothgar by Beowulf’s father.

The other passage worthy of note is lines 480-487a, simply for the gory imagery:

Ful oft ġebēotedon      bēore druncne
ofer ealowæġe      ōretmecgas
þæt hīe in bēorsele      bīdan woldon
Grendles gūþe      mid gryrum ecga.
Ðonne wæs þēos medoheal      on morgentīd,
drihtsele drēorfāh      þonne dæġ līxte,
eal benċþelu      blōde besty¯med,
heall heorudrēore.

(Very often boasted,      drunk with beer
over ale-cups,      the warriors
that they in the beer-hall      would await
Grendel’s attack      with terrors of swords.
Then was this mead-hall      in the morning hours,
the splendid hall gore-stained   when the day gleamed,
all the bench-planks      were suffused with blood,
the hall with battle-blood.)

Redundonym

16 February 2009

Now there’s a name for the redundant word that often follows an acronym. From The Copyeditor’s Handbook, by Amy Einsohn:

Redundonyms. In speech, people often use an acronym followed by a word that is actually a part of the acronym:

ATM machine (ATM = Automated Teller Machine)
GRE exam (GRE = Graduate Record Exam)
HIV virus (HIV = human immunodeficiency virus)
PIN number (PIN = personal identification number)
UPS service (UPS = United Parcel Service)

In writing, such redundancies are best avoided.

(Hat tip to Jesse Vernon over at the Stranger Slog)

Steal This Book

13 February 2009

The Times of London has come out with a list of the most stolen books in Britain. The survey is unscientific, but interesting nonetheless. Don’t forget to read the article before scrolling down to the list. It has some fascinating tidbits on who steals books and why, from people who just can’t afford their favorite book to forklift operator at the HarperCollins publishing plant who had a side business selling books he’d stolen from work. The article also includes a list of the library books most often borrowed in the UK.

(Hat tip to Paul Constant on the Stranger “Slog")

Blogging Beowulf: Fit VI, Lines 371-455

12 February 2009

This fit opens with Hrothgar speaking (maþelode). The Danish king tells Wulfgar, and presumably his assembled nobles, that he remembers Beowulf as a boy (Beowulf’s father served in the Danish court) and that he has heard from seafarers that Beowulf has grown into a great warrior with the strength of thirty men. He declares that Beowulf’s arrival is literally a God-send and that if the Geat can defeat Grendel, he will reward him with many treasures. Wulfgar goes back to the Geats and bids them enter the hall, wearing their armor, but leaving their weapons and shields at the door.

Beowulf and his men enter Heorot and Beowulf introduces himself to Hrothgar, giving the king a bit of an oral résumé. In the past, Beowulf says that he captured five enemy in a battle on one occasion. On another he slew a race of giants. And on yet a third, he battled successfully with sea-monsters. So he is an experience monster-killer. He has come to defeat Grendel and asks that he and his men be allowed to fight the monster. Since Grendel does not use weapons, Beowulf will eschew them as well, fighting with his bare hands. If he should fail, Hrothgar need not worry about burial, since Grendel will have eaten him. In that case, all he asks is that his armor be returned to Hygelac, the king of the Geats.

Again, this fit has a lot of talking, but it’s terrific language, especially Beowulf’s speech to Hrothgar. The speech is rife with litotes. Our hero refers to the terror that Grendel has wrought as Grendles þinġ, or the Grendel affair (literally, thing). And he says (lines 424b-426a):

                              (Nū wið Grendel sceal,
wið þam āglæ¯ċan,     āna ġehēġan
ðinġ wið þyrse.

                              Now with Grendel [I] shall
with the adversary,     hold a meeting
with the demon.)

Not only is this understatement, but it is referring back to the exchange of words, the wordum wrixlan.

His announcement that he will fight bare-handed is also great, lines 438b-441:

                              ac iċ mid grāpe sceal
fōn wið fēonde     ond ymb feorh sacan,
lāð wið lāþum;     ðær ġelyfan sceal
dryhtnes dōme     sē þe hine dēað nimeð.

                              (But I shall with grasp
grapple with the fiend     and [we shall] fight for our lives,
foe against foe;     he who death takes
to the Lord’s judgment     shall be resigned.)

I just love the lāð wið lāþum line. Also, the sharp-eyed will note that my translation here changes the order of some of the half-lines. To wit, I switched the last and the penultimate b half-lines. Since Old English is inflected, syntax, or word order, is much less important. And in poetry you will often have the subject buried at the end of very long and complex sentence. This one wasn’t so long, but the sē þe (he who) does come toward the end. When translating, you have to move words around for it to make any sense in modern English. Also, prepositions and pronouns are frequently omitted; they’re often superfluous in an inflected language and are frequently dropped in poetry for metrical reasons. You have to add them back in modern English.

Another great passage is Beowulf saying there will be no need to tend to his corpse in case he loses, lines 445b-451:

                              Nā þū mīnne þearft
hafalan hydan,     ac hē mē habban wile
d[r]ēore fāhne,     ġif meċ dēað nimeð:
byreð blōdiġ wæl,     byrġean þenċeð,
eteð āngenġa     unmurnlīċe,
mearcað mōrhopu—     nō ðū ymb mīnes ne þearft
līċes feorme     lenġ sorgian.

                              (You will have no need
to hide my head     but he will have had me
stained with blood     if death takes me:
[he] bears [my] bloody corpse     intending to eat [it],
the solitary one eats     ruthlessly,
[and] marks [his] lair on the moors—     you will have no need over
caring for my body     [nor] to grieve long.)

Covering the head is a burial practice. Note that the phrase dēað nimeð (death takes) is repeated from the passage above.

The fit also ends with a great half-line, indicating the attitude Anglo-Saxons had toward fate and destiny:

Gæð ā wyrd swā hīo scel.

(Fate always goes as it shall.)

Lincoln/Darwin Day

12 February 2009

Charles Darwin and Abraham Lincoln were both born 200 years ago today. Ben Zimmer has a post on the Word Routes blog over at the Visual Thesaurus site on the two men’s respective contributions to the English lexicon.

Zimmer counts 144 words in the OED with Darwin as the first cited author, but only one from Lincoln, the word Michigander.

It’s an interesting post, but I’m not sure how Zimmer got the number 144. You have to do considerable disentangling of authors with the same name (Charles’s grandfather, Erasmus, was a prolific writer, and Charles’s children wrote as well, and his son, Francis, co-authored some papers with Charles), but whatever the number actually is, 144 isn’t far off.