Beowulf is one of many, many books that is on my list to read before I die. It’s a book that feels instantly familiar, and so you spend several days wondering if it’s familiar because it has become ingrained in our tome of literature, or because JRR Tolkien was so obviously enamoured by it or if those two things really mean the same thing. I believe the reason I wanted it in the first place was because I stumbled across a recently released version of his translation in the book store and googled the hell out of it. I ended up buying Heaney’s translation instead, partly because of the cover, and partly because he is a poet. He does regard Tolkien’s version quite highly as well I should point out. Ironically, the reason Tolkien’s version of the work is so highly regarded is because Tolkien delivered a lecture in 1936 that changed how the work was perceived. He highlighted the poetic nature of the text, instead of just the historical value it presents. The historical value of the text is obvious. Beowulf is one of (if not the) first major work of literature done in Anglo-Saxon, or Old English. Unfortunately, Old English is so far removed from modern day English that even with the original manuscript on the left-hand side of the page, one can scarcely make out more than a few words on a page. I’m better in almost any other language than Old English, though I admit I was much more confident in my ability to understand English before reading this.
There are many reasons that one should read Beowulf however, even if you aren’t going to be able to make much sense of the original text. It was written sometime between the 7th and 10th centuries, in a time when Europe was decidedly Christian, however the poem speaks of events in Scandinavia, during pagan times. There are three main events (or battles) in the story, and all of them had me thinking of Orcs and Elves and Rivendell and Mordor. Fascinating to see the places our culture takes the defining ‘memes’ of our past. Many people would think they knew nothing of Beowulf, but the truth is the story is instantly familiar while at the same time being decidedly unique from the other cultural epics we might be more familiar with (The Iliad or The Aeneid for example). This might have more to do with Peter Jackson nowadays, but at least it is still relevant.
Unfortunately, for all the merit the work has, I’d be lying if I said I enjoyed it profusely. I annotated few passages, and read the whole thing on a flight from Toronto to Edmonton. I’m glad I read it, but I see myself re-reading the Aeneid a lot sooner than I’ll be taking this one off the bookshelf. There are some interesting google-trails that one can get into on this work though, and that’s always worth something. I’ll quote my favorite section, and leave you with a video of a very Beowulf-looking man reading from the work in Anglo-Saxon because it’s awesome. The image above is by a man named John Howe, who is Canadian so I like him. He has some great work on his site www.john-howe.com
Here is why Beowulf is poetic:
It was like the misery endured by an old man
who has lived to see his son’s body
swing on the gallows. He begins to keen
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gloat where he hangs; he can be of no help.
The wisdom of age is useless to him.
Morning after morning, he wakes to remember
that his child has gone; he has no interest
in living on until another heir
is born in the hall….
Alone with his longing, he lies down on his bed
and sings a lament; everything seems too large,
the steadings and the fields.
And here is why it is epic:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CH-_GwoO4xI
