Blogging Beowulf: Fit IX, Lines 559-661

23 February 2009

Beowulf’s response to Unferth’s challenge continues in this fit. He describes his victory over the sea-monsters and how he eventually washed up on the Finnish shore. He then goes on to question Unferth’s bravery and we find out that Unferth has killed his brothers (the reasons and details are not given). He reiterates his intention to fight Grendel and we are told that Hrothgar is pleased with Beowulf’s response. At this point, Hrothgar’s queen, Wealhtheow enters the hall and ceremonially presents a cup of drink to each of warriors in turn, starting with Hrothgar and ending with Beowulf. She tells Beowulf that she is happy he has come and he again pledges to defeat Grendel. There is more drinking and celebration, until Beowulf announces that he must rest because of the long night ahead of him. The Danes depart the hall, leaving it to Beowulf and the Geats, but before this happens Hrothgar formally entrusts Beowulf with the guardianship of the hall—something he hasn’t done with any warrior since he became king.

There’s a lot going on this section of the poem. Beowulf’s description of the fight on the sea floor is pretty neat. Lines 560b-561 read: “iċ him þēnode dēoran sweorde, swā hit ġedēfe wæs.” (I served them with my dear sword, as it was fitting.” The verb þennan is an interesting choice. It’s often translated here as to serve (it can mean to prostrate oneself before a lord), but it is the root of our modern verb to thin. So one could say, “I thinned them out with my dear sword,” although this sense of the verb, to reduce in number, doesn’t appear to have been used in Old English, not appearing until the 15th century. Instead, the Old English sense was to stretch out, to reduce in depth. So perhaps a modern, idiomatic translation would be, “I stretched them out...” or “I laid them out with my dear sword.”

Another great line from the battle description is in lines 572a-573: “wyrd oft nereð unfæġne eorl, þonne his ellen dēah!” (Fate often saves the unfated warrior, when his courage avails.) It’s presented as a gnomic statement or a maxim, and it nicely encapsulates the conflict in the poem between determinism and free will. From the poet’s use of words like wyrd (the root of our modern weird), he clearly presents the view that the events of the poem are fated, but it seems that this fate is not entirely independent of human action.

Another conundrum is the presentation of Unferth. Beowulf accuses him of cowardice, but this doesn’t seem plausible. Unferth is sitting at the king’s feet and a counselor in such a position could not possibly have been a coward in a Germanic culture. Some of suggested he was a court jester of sorts, but again this doesn’t square with what he know of him, that he is a warrior of some repute. More likely Beowulf is simply engaging in some Anglo-Saxon trash talk.

In lines 587-589a, Beowulf tells us that Unferth has killed his brothers. He is a bana, a murderer, a slayer and will suffer damnation in hell for it. This, besides being a bit of anachronistic Christian thinking, complicates the “trash talking” explanation. This isn’t just trash talk, it’s a serious accusation. The lines, as they appear in the manuscript are:

þēah ðū þīnum brōðrum tō
banan wurde, hēafodmægum; þæs þū in

[end of f.143r, beginning of f.143v.]

[helle] scealt werhðo drēogan

(Because you became slayer to your brothers, your near-relatives, you shall suffer condemnation in hell.)

First note that the poem isn’t written out in the familiar half-lines separated by a caesura, that’s a modern editorial innovation. Like all Anglo-Saxon poetry, Beowulf is written out on the page as if it were prose. Second, the word hel does not appear in the manuscript. As you can see from the upper right of the picture of folio 143v, the page is damaged and the word is missing (only the final e remains, and that is covered by the frame that preserves the page). Helle is inserted because both the Thorkelin A and B transcriptions have this word. Evidently, the damage to the manuscript was subsequent to those transcripts being prepared. Some have suggested that Thorkelin and his scribe made an error and it should be healle, instead. So it would read “in this hall,” as opposed to “in hell.” There are other places in the manuscript where Thorkelin and his scribe have made the same transcription error. This would lessen the impact of Beowulf’s accusation from being a mortal sin to an embarrassing incident from Unferth’s past. From an etymological perspective, this is a good example of the need to check original documents to see if the word actually appears. In the case of hel, we have many other citations of use from Anglo-Saxon literature, but one would be on shaky grounds to cite this as an example. (The OED3, for instance, does not include this line from Beowulf in its citations for hell.)

The passage about Wealhtheow and the cup ceremony is interesting, but mainly from an anthropological and cultural perspective—the role of women in a Germanic court. There is also a minor theme in the poem about kingly succession, and Wealtheow plays a role in this, and this passage gives some illumination into her role in Hrothgar’s court.

Coming next, Grendel’s approach…

Blogging Beowulf: Fit VIII, Lines 499-558

21 February 2009

In the midst of the feast at Heorot, Unferth, one of Hrothgar’s thanes and evidently a particularly favored one as he is seated at Hrothgar’s feet, challenges Beowulf’s abilities. He claims that Beowulf once engaged in a swimming contest (or perhaps it was rowing—the text isn’t all that clear) with a man named Breca. According to Unferth, the swimming contest lasted seven days and Breca was the victor, indicating that Beowulf is not that strong and will be unable to defeat Grendel. Beowulf responds that Unferth is drunk and doesn’t know what he’s talking about. The two men swam together for five days, until the ocean floods separated them. The two men swam in armor and holding their swords in their hands (no mean feat, that) in order to protect themselves from “whales.” In Beowulf’s case, this proved fortuitous, as he was dragged under the waves by a sea beast, but his armor protected him against the creature’s bite and once on the ocean floor our hero defeated the creature with his sword.

Unferth’s challenge is often pointed to as an example of flyting, a ritual exchange of insult common in medieval Nordic literature. The Norse poem the Lokasenna, or The Flyting of Loki, is a more fitting example though. This incident in Beowulf isn’t much as far as flyting goes. And flyting is not all that characteristic of Anglo-Saxon literature—it’s more of a Norse tradition, although it does appear in late-medieval Scottish literature too. The big question is whether Unferth is challenging Beowulf on behalf of Hrothgar, something that Hrothgar, as host, cannot do directly, or whether Unferth is simply drunk as Beowulf accuses him of being. More on Unferth in the next fit as we hear more of Beowulf’s response and we learn more about the man.

The confusion over swimming v. rowing is the use of the verb rowan to describe the contest at some points. This may simply be rhetorical flourish or it could be that the rowan also carried a sense of swimming—it’s often difficult to ferret out all the connotations of words in a dead language.

There’s not a lot of notable language in this fit, although Beowulf’s description of the sea conditions during the swim is pretty neat (lines 545b-548):

                        oþ þæt unc flōd tōdrāf,
wado weallende,      wedera ċealdost,
nīpende niht,      ond norþan wind
heaðogrim ondhwearf;      hrēo wæron yþa.

                        until the flood drove us apart,
water welling,      the coldest of weathers,
descending night,      and the northern wind
turned battle-grim;      the waves were rough.

Current Eponyms

21 February 2009

Mark Peters’s latest column over at Good magazine is all about eponyms you’ll hear in the news today.

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)