Blogging Beowulf: Editions of the Poem

18 May 2009

Because it is a manuscript, and a damaged one at that, there is no single “definitive” version of the poem. So if you’re looking for a version of the poem to read, which one should you chose? I’m only familiar with a small number of the extant versions, so I will necessarily skip some good ones, but here are some that you can’t go wrong with.

Most people are going to want to read it in translation. While that’s a shame—the Old English is so much better than any existing translation—it is understandable. Most people aren’t going to devote the time needed to read it in the Old English.

Seamus Heaney’s translation is perhaps the most readily available and, no surprise coming from a Nobel laureate poet, is a masterful translation. It’s a work of art in its own right. But it is most definitely “Seamus Heaney’s Beowulf.” Heaney does deviate from the manuscript text significantly, not in any narrative sense, but his is by no means a line-by-line translation. In one sense, this is good, allowing the modern reader to experience some approximation of the Old English meter and diction while still comprehending the meaning without grammatical contortions. Heaney provides the Old English text as well, so it can serve double-duty for those who want both the original and a translation.

For a more accurate, albeit less artistic, translation, R.M. Liuzza’s translation is an excellent choice.

For years, the standard Old English version was Klaeber’s. The fourth edition of Klaeber’s is what I used for my project. This is a new version, published in 2008, and edited by R.D. Fulk, Robert E. Bjork, and John D. Niles. Editorially, Fulk, et al. make some controversial interpretations of certain passages, however. But they make up for this with their exhaustive and excellent commentary on the poem. And since it’s new, the commentary is up to date with the latest trends in criticism. If you’re teaching a course, this is a superb choice for a text and even the problematic editorial judgments can be turned into teaching points about the nature of manuscripts and the editorial process.

If you want a more conservative Old English text, Dobbie’s 1953 version is a good choice, although the commentary and apparatus is dated. Dobbie may be a bit difficult to find, although reprint editions are still in print.

Finally, for those really interested in the poem, Zupitza’s version is worth a look. It’s an 1882 edition, but it includes facsimile pages of the manuscript. It’s still available in reprint editions, but unless you are a serious Beowulf scholar, it’s probably not worth investing in a copy. Find it in your local university library to take a look at the images of the manuscript pages. A lower-quality version can be found in Google Books, and that is definitely worth taking a gander at. 

Blogging Beowulf, Fit LXIII, Lines 3137–82

17 May 2009

This final fit describes Beowulf’s pyre and barrow and concludes with words of praise for the hero. 

The description of the pyre is wonderful and ends with what I think is the best half-line in all the poem, lines 3143–55:

Ongunnon þā on beorge      bælfyra mæst
wīġend weċċan;      wud(u)rēċ āstāh,
sweart ofer swioðole,      swōgende lēġ
wōpe bewunden      —windblond ġelæġ—
oð þæt hē ðā bānhus      ġebrocen hæfd(e),
hāt on hreðre.      Hiġum unrōte
mōdċeare mændon,      mondryhtnes cw(e)alm;
swylċe ġiōmorġyd      (Ġē)at(isc) meowle
(æfter Bīowulfe      b)undenheorde
(sang) sorgċeariġ,      sæ(id)e (ġe)neah(he)
þæt hīo hyre (here)ġ(eon)gas      hearde ond(r)ēde,
wælfylla wo(r)n,      w)erudes eġesan,
hy[n]ðo ond hæf(t)nyd.      Heofon rēċe swealg.

(Then on the cliff      the warriors began to wake
the greatest of funeral fires;      the wood-reek rose,
dark over the flames,      the roaring fire
was wound about with weeping      —the blowing winds subsided—
until it      had broken the bone house,
hot at the heart.      Sad of mind [they]
lamented their grief,      the death of the liege-lord;
also a song of mourning      a Geatish woman
for Beowulf      with her hair bound up
sang sorrowful,      she earnestly told of
the invasions that they      sorely dreaded,
the large number of slaughters,   the terror of the host,
humiliation and captivity. Heaven swallowed the reek.)

The smoke, mixed with the laments and fears for the future, is rising into an indifferent heaven. Mouths and eating play a large role in the imagery of the poem (remember Grendel devouring Hondscio?), and the use of swelgan, to swallow, here is fitting. Great stuff!

The identity of the woman is the subject of much commentary and speculation. We have no clue who she is. Perhaps Beowulf’s wife? Some suggest that she is Hygd, Hygelac’s widow, who may also have married Beowulf. We’ll never know. She is described as (b)undenheorde, which is usually translated as with hair bound up—this is the only appearance of the compound in the Old English corpus, so we can’t deduce its meaning from its use in other contexts. Some have suggested that married women in Anglo-Saxon society wore their hair up to denote their marital status, indicating that she is a widow, but there is scanty evidence of this practice and it is more likely that all women, married or not, wore their hair covered. The word is sometimes read as (b)undenhearde, or cruelly bound, indicating that she is a slave or servant, possibly a reference to her future as a woman of the now lord-less Geats. The b is missing from the manuscript, and some read the word as (w)undenheorde, or with wavy hair.

Of course we can’t leave without including the final lines of the poem. Note that the Anglo-Saxons did not value modesty as we do today and being eager for praise is not in any way a bad thing, lines 3174b–82:

                        Swā hit ġedē(fe) bið
þæt mon his winedryhten      wordum herġe,
ferhðum frēoġe,      þonne hē forð scile
of l(ī)ċhaman      (læ)ded weorðan.
Swā begnornodon      Ġēata lēode
hlāfordes (hry)re,      heorðġenēatas,
cwædon þæt hē wære      wyruldcyning[a]
manna mildust      ond mon(ðw)ærust,
lēodum līðost      ond lofġeornost.

(                        So it is fitting
that a man his lord-friend      should praise with words,
should love him in his heart,      when he must
from his body      be led forth.
So lamented      the people of the Geats
the death of their lord,      his hearth-companions
said that he was      of the kings of the world
the mildest of men      and the gentlest,
most gracious to his people      and the most eager for praise.)

Se ende.

Blogging Beowulf: Fit XLII, Lines 3058–3136

16 May 2009

Wiglaf tells the men of Beowulf’s death and then commands some of them to build a funeral pyre for the king. Then he leads seven of the men back into the barrow to carry out the remainder of the treasure. The men also push the body of the dragon over a cliff into the sea and then carry Beowulf’s body to the pyre.

There is locus desperatus, or hopeless passage, at lines 3069–75. No one is quite sure what the final two lines of this passage mean:

Swā hit oð dōmes dæġ      dīope benemdon
þēodnas mære,      þā ðæt þær dydon,
þæt se secg wære      synnum scildiġ,
hergum ġeheaðerod,      hellbendum fæst,
wommum ġewītnad,      sē ðone wong strude,
næs hē goldhwæte,      ġearwor hæfde
āgendes ēst      ær ġescēawod.

(Until doomsday      deeply declared
the famous men,      when it was placed there,
that the man was      guilty of sins,
confined in the heathen temple,      fast in the bonds of hell,
punished with injuries,   who would plunder that place,
nor was he gold-cursed,      [he] certainly had
God’s favor      before he looked upon it.)

The last two lines can be alternatively translated as:

(By no means, he a gold-curse,      had certainly
foreseen      but the owner’s favor.)

There are other possible translations, as well.

Pretty much everyone agrees that the passage says the people who buried the gold put a curse on it so that whoever dug it up would be cursed, unless, of course, God gave them dispensation. What is not clear is what this says about Beowulf. Is he cursed? Or does he have God’s grace? The main problem is the word goldhwæte. It appears nowhere else in the Old English corpus and the meaning is uncertain. It could mean gold-cursed, or rich in gold, or even greedy for gold. The word āgendes is also a problem. Agend literally means owner or guardian, but it is also used to mean God. Is the favor ēst (favor) the owner’s, the dragon’s, or God’s? Also, does ær ġescēawod mean before he looked or he had foreseen? And there are even more questions, like is næs a verb (nor was) or adverb (by no means) here?

Wiglaf talks of Beowulf’s courage in a rather neat passage, lines 3114b–19

                        Nū sceal glēd fretan,
—weaxan wonna lēġ—      wigena strenġel,
þone ðe oft ġebād      īsernscūre,
þonne stræla storm      strenġum ġebæded
scōc ofer scildweall,      sceft nytte hēold,
fæðerġearwum fūs      flāne fullēode.

                        (Now shall the fire devour,
—the flame waxes dark—      the chief of warriors,
he who often awaited      the iron-shower,
when a storm of arrows      compelled by bow-strings
passed over the shield-wall,      the shafts held to their duty,
hurtling feather-gear      aided the arrows.)

Īsernscūre, or iron-shower, is a great kenning for a volley of arrows. Strenġum ġebæded can also be translated as compelled by strength.

The fit ends with the warriors carrying Beowulf to his pyre on the Cape of Whales (where that is actually is unknown, if it is even a real place), lines 3130–36:

Þæt hī ofostlīċ(e)      ūt ġeferedon
dyre māðmas;      dracan ēc scufun,
wyrm ofer weallclif,      leton wēġ niman,
flōd fæðmian      frætwa hyrde.
Þā wæs wunden gold      on wæn hladen,
æġhwæs unrim,      æþeling boren,
hār hilde[rinċ]      tō Hrones Næsse.

(Then they quickly      carried out
the dear treasure;      also they shoved the dragon,
the worm over the sea-cliff,      they let the wave take,
the flood embrace      the guardian of the treasure.
Then was the twisted gold      laden on a wain,
a countless number of everything,      the noble one was born,
the gray-haired battle-warrior      to the Cape of Whales.)

Blogging Beowulf: Fit XLI, Lines 2946–3057

15 May 2009

The fit continues the herald’s account of the Swedish war. Ongentheow, the Swedish king, and his troops flee from Hygelac’s oncoming army, taking refuge in a fort. Hygelac overruns the fort and Ongentheow faces two Geatish warriors, brothers, in battle, Wulf and Eofor. Wulf wounds Ongentheow, but Ongentheow’s counterstroke cuts through Wulf’s helmet, severely wounding, but not killing, the warrior. Eofor, Wulf’s brother steps into the fray and kills Ongentheow. Eofor takes Ongentheow’s armor and weapons and presents them to Hygelac as trophies. In return, Hygelac richly rewards the brothers with treasure and gives his only daughter in marriage to Eofor.

The herald predicts that with the death of Beowulf, the Swedes will renew the feud with the Geats. The herald says that they must burn the dragon’s hoard with Beowulf’s body and predicts a grim future for the people of the Geats. The warriors then go to view Beowulf’s body, the dead dragon, and the treasure.

This is a very difficult fit for the modern reader because it’s filled with references that, while familiar to the Anglo-Saxons, are obscure to us. The large number of characters also makes it difficult to connect pronouns to their antecedents. (e.g., Does “his” refer to Eofor, Hygelac, or Ongentheow?) But with repeated readings, you can eventually figure it all out, and the reward is well worth it. The fit has several really evocative passages.

First some names. Eofor literally means boar and Wulf is, of course, wolf.

The battle scenes are marvelously descriptive, lines 2964b–76:

                        Hyne yrringa
Wulf Wonrēding      wæpne ġeræhte,
þæt him for swenġe      swāt ædrum sprong
forð under fexe.      Næs hē forht swā ðēh,
gomela Scilfing,      ac forġeald hraðe
wyrsan wrixle      wælhlem þone,
syððan ðēodcyning      þyder onċirde.
Ne meahte se snella      sunu Wonrēdes
ealdum ċeorle      ondslyht ġiofan,
ac hē him on hēafde      helm ær ġescer,
þæt hē blōde fah      būgan sceolde,
fēoll on foldan;      næs hē fæġe þā ġit,
ac hē hyne ġewyrpte,      þēah ðe him wund hrine.

                        Angrily
Wulf, the son of Wonred,   struck him1 with his weapon
so that because of the swing      blood sprang in streams
from under his hair.      Yet he1 was not afraid,
the old Scilfing,      but he repaid quickly
a worse exchange      for that slaughter-blow,
after the people’s king      turned thither.
The bold son of Wonred      could not
give a counter-blow      to the old man,
because he1 had sheared through      the helmet on his2 head,
so that he decorated with blood      should fall,
he fell to the ground;   he was not yet doomed to die,
but he recovered,      though the wound had hurt him.

1 Ongentheow
2 Wulf

Ædrum, which I translated as in streams, could also be from veins. I’ve also moved some of the words about so the passage conforms to modern rules of syntax.

The herald also explains why the treasure should be burned and predicts dark times ahead for the Geats, lines 3010–27:

                        Ne scel ānes hwæt
meltan mid þam modigan,      ac þær is māðma hord,
gold unrīme      grimme ġeċēa(po)d,
ond nū æt sīðestan      sylfes fēore
bēagas (ġeboh)te;      þā sceall brond fretan,
æled þeċċean—      nalles eorl wegan
māððum to ġemyndum,      nē mæġð scyne
habban on healse      hrinġweorðunge,
ac sceal ġeōmormōd,      golde berēafod,
oft nalles æne      elland tredan,
nū se herewīsa      hleahtor āleġde,
gamen ond glēodrēam.      Forðon sceall gār wesan
moniġ, morgenċeald,      mundum bewunden,
hæfen on handa,      nalles hearpan swēġ
wīġend weċċean,      ac se wonna hrefn
fūs ofer fæġum      fela reordian,
earne secgan      hū him æt æte spēow,
þenden hē wið wulf      wæl rēafode.

                        Nor shall just one thing
melt with the courageous one,      but there is the treasure hoard,
gold uncounted      and grimly purchased,
and now at last      with his own life
bought the rings;      then shall the fire devour,
the fire enfold—      the warrior should not wear at all
treasure in remembrance,      nor the beautiful maiden
have on her neck      ring-ornaments,
but shall sad of mind,      bereft of gold,
more than once      tread in a foreign country,
now that our war-chief      has laid aside laughter,
amusement and revelry.   Therefore shall the spear be
on many a cold morning,      grasped by hands,
hefted in hands,      not at all the sound of the harp
wake the warrior,      but the dark raven
eager for carrion      speak much,
and ask the eagle      how he succeeded at the feast,
when he with the wolf      plundered those slain in battle.

The image of women elland tredan, or treading in foreign lands, is a reference to the women of the Geats being sold into slavery. The reference to spears being grasped in morgenċeald, or on cold mornings, is two the Anglo-Saxon trope of bad things happening at dawn. A battle in the cold morning is one that is not going to go well. And the beasts of war, the raven, the eagle, and the wolf, is a standard trope, appearing in many Old English passages about war and battle.

Blogging Beowulf: Fit XL, Lines 2892–945

14 May 2009

A herald announces the death of Beowulf to the other warriors and predicts hard times for the Geats. They will be beset by the Franks, who fought a war with them when Hygelac was king, and by the Swedes, who are still angry over that war. The herald goes into some detail about the Swedish war and how Ongentheow, the Swedish king, was particularly ruthless in battle with the Geats. Ongentheow killed Hæthcyn, the king of the Geats, and had beseiged the survivors of the battle when Hygelac, Hæthcyn’s brother, came to their aid.

This fit is short, but it is challenging to read. It jumps around in time, with events in three different periods and it assumes the reader is familiar with the wars in question, with references that are obscure to the modern reader. The language is fairly straightforward, with no long passages of elevated prose or, by this point, new words.

But there are some neat turns of phrase. One is in line 2904 when Beowulf is described as sexbennum sēoc, or sick with dagger wounds. The sex- is the same word as seax, the short stabbing sword.

The survivors of battle are called sweorda lāfe, or the leavings of swords in line 2936. And in lines 2939–41, Ongentheow threatens the sweorda lāfe:

Cwæð, hē on merġenne      mēċes ecgum
ġētan wolde,      sum’ on galgtrēowu[m]
[fuglum] tō gamene.

(He said that in the morning      with the edges of swords
[he] would gut [them],      [and hang] some on the gallows-tree
for the amusement of birds.)

A lovely image, that.