Week 2:

Old English Social Views Kings & Kingship: An Anglo-Saxon "kingdom" would typically be about the size of a county today--or even smaller. Kingdoms were also often part of a larger kingdom, so the king of a tiny kingdom would "owe fealty" to a king of a larger area which included several little kingdoms (imagine each town in Central Oregon having its own king, each county having its own king--with the little town kingdoms being part of the county kingdom and the township kings answering to the county king, and the Central Oregon region as a whole having a king, with the county kings answering to the region king). When someone is identified as a "king" in Anglo Saxon literature, he might rule a town and surrounding areas the size of, say, Alfalpha, or he might rule an area the size of Central Oregon as a whole. Regardless of the size of a kingdom, a king was responsible for protecting the kingdom from attack (from animals attacking, another kingdom attacking, or outlaws attacking--an "outlaw" is someone "outside the law," i.e., someone who does not belong to a kingdom) and for ensuring that all the people in the kingdom had food, shelter, and clothing--whether that meant organizing hunting groups or attacking another kingdom. In return, the king got "first dibs" on whatever anyone in the kingdom got while hunting or attacking, before distributing the resources to his main retainers, who were, in turn, responsible for distributing supplies to their families and followers. Regardless of the responsibilities of the main retainers, the king had overall responsibility for making sure the system worked and that everyone in the community got at least their basic needs for food, clothing, and shelter met. Heroes: All men were supposed to be part of the kingdom's fighting force, and all "thanes" (the king's main retainers and those retainers' main warriors) substantially better than those men who were lower ranking fighters (as opposed to those who were, say, primarily farmers or craftsmen but who were expected to fight in emergencies--see "Battle of Maldon"). A hero had to be the best of the best in terms of fighting AND had to direct that excellence to keeping the kingdom safe and well provisioned (as opposed to increasing his own glory or reputation). Excellence typically involved three attributes: a hero had to 1. 2. be noticeably stronger than other fighters, have noticeably better fighting skills, and have armor and weapons better than other fighters, including at least some that he had taken from another fighter in battle and which his lord had then given back to him in the division of loot (i.e., he had to have been a good enough fighter to win a fight against someone with better arms and/or armor AND have sufficient respect from the lord to be granted the arms and/or armor he had looted).

3.

On rare occasions, someone would be considered a hero for doing something that got herself or himself killed or required great sacrifice for a point of honor or to protect a larger group. For example, a woman who was a "peace-weaver," (see optional materials) who suffered greatly in that role, could be a hero (or at least heroic) and Deirdu, who managed to get her brains smashed out against a rock by leaning out of a carriage to prevent being passed around by the men who were responsible for her husband's death, was a hero (or at least heroic). Also, the retainers in "The Battle of Maldon," who remain fighting after their leader dies, without any chance of living or of winning the battle, were heroes, even though they probably weren't especially strong or skilled. Jesus was also considered a hero (see "The Dream of the Rood") as were martyrs and the primary saints. Responsibility:

Basically, at any level in the hierarchy, people were supposed to be

most responsible for the good of their overall group, tribe, or little kingdom, then responsible for the people who immediately depended on them, then responsible for maintaining honor (including seeking glory and reputation, which advances the group's reputation as well as the individual's), then responsible for the people who depended on those who depended on them, and finally, way down at the bottom of the list and only if it didn't conflict with any of the more important responsibilities, responsible for their own well-being.

Top warriors were especially expected to seek glory and reputation because they were so good at fulfilling their group reponsibilities that they had the energy and abilities to advance themselves without shirking other duties. Marriage: Marriage in Anglo-Saxon society was monagamous, except that a husband could have sex with servant women and slave women in his household, and fighters could have same sex relationships with other fighters while they were away from home fighting (the theory is that a man would fight just a little harder to protect or impress a lover than he would just to follow a leader's orders). Since infant and child mortality was so high, the primary point of a marriage was to produce as many children as possible (preferably male children)--a man could divorce his wife if she didn't have children and could kill or divorce her for evidence of infidelity (such as having twins--which obviously meant she had had sex with two men). Fear of a wife's infidelity led to high importance of nephews (sister-sons) in inheritance, since a nephew is obviously related to you by blood. To marry, a man had to have the resources to support a wife and children at a level suitable to his rank, or be marrying a woman with a dowry large enough to provide such support. Religion: This varied widely depending on whether we are talking about the early Anglo-Saxon period or middle or late and on where in the kingdom a group lived. Early Anglo-Saxons typically either followed a Norse religion (sky gods such as Thor and Odin), or Christianity, or a blend (Thor and the Christian God might be seen as interchangeable, for example). In an area with a strong Celtic presence, people might fully worship the Goddess or, more likely, worship local nature dieties, particularly when a nature diety was more or less compatible with a Norse religion as well as Goddess worship. Later on, AngloSaxons were primarily Christian, although frequently interpreting Christianity on heroic ideals (so, substantially more emphasis on Christ dying for all people's sins than on him healing the sick) and often incorporating nature dieties from Celtic religions, just in case. Literary and Critical Terms Assonance: Just like alliteration (see Week 1 Lit Crit terms) except with vowel sounds. Note particularly that this involves sounds not letters--the "e's" in "tepee" do NOT have assonance with the "e" in "tepid"; the "i" in "tide" does assonate with the the "y" in "type." For both alliteration and assonance, the repeated sounds MUST be in stressed syllables and they must be close together. Extra repeated sounds in unstressed syllables reinforce the features but don't, on their own, create either alliteration or assonance. Dream Vision Literature: A poem or story that is directly presented as having been a dream or poetry that has "dream-like" elements, such as apparently random progressions or realizations--"suddenly, I realized that what I had thought was a shawl was really a snake. . ."). Dream Vision lierature may absolve the writer from direct responsibility for saying something that could get them sued ("You thought I was talking about you, milord? Oh no, I was just recording a dream"). In Anglo-Saxon and Middle English periods, dreams were often seen as being direct communication from God or from angels, so setting something up as a dream gave it greater credibility.

Euphemism: A nice or indirect way of saying something unpleasant, often involving periphrasis, metaphor or, in Anglo-Saxon poetry, litodes. For example, saying that someone "has gone to his heavenly reward" rather than saying "he's dead, Jim" or saying "I need to visit the ladies' room" or saying "it wasn't hard to find people who decided to sleep somewhere other than Heorot Hall" rather than saying "the place was full of cowards." Hyperbole: Extreme exaggeration, either for comic effect or emphasis. For example, "his arms dangled a mile from his sleeves;" "I must have read 40,000 essays that don't have a point." (Compare Meiosis, below) Lyric Poetry: Basically, songs (the lyrics of a song are lyric poetry) or song-like poetry. Lyric poetry may have a narrative element (e.g., many country western songs tell us about someone losing a wife, a truck, a gun, a dog, or some combination thereof), but they have elements that make them suitable for singing (e.g., a narrative poem can have any rhythmic pattern and can vary that pattern for effect; a lyric poem must consistently fit a particular rhythm). Also, the narrative content in a lyric poem tends to be general. Finally, regardless of whether a lyric poem is literally the lyrics of a song or not, it has "song-like" elements--lyric poetry uses more sound effects than narrative poetry (so, more alliteration, assonance, onomatopoeia) and is more interested in vivid images than in content or in making a point. In this week's reading, "The Wife's Lament" is lyric poetry; "The Dream of the Rood" has some lyric elements. Meoisis: Extreme understatement, usually to convey irony or sarcasm, but also for comic effect. (For example, "I totalled the Lexus I borrowed from my friend--he was a bit annoyed.") Periphrasis: A long and/or round-about way of saying something for emphasis or as part of epic poetry's "the grand style." This is a key element of what makes epic poetry epic--it makes ordinary things sound special or unusual (e.g., "the finny tribe" = fish). Non-epic poetry may still use periphrasis, but does so less frequently than epic poetry does. Personification: Technically, giving human qualities or abilities to an object (e.g., the stars danced in the sky; my car is sulky on cold mornings), but also giving any living qualities or abilities to an object (e.g., the stars winged their way through the sky; the sword bit through the enemy's shield). This device is a mainstay in Anglo-Saxon literature--helmets were "boar-helms," with the image of a helmet having the same protective function as a boar's tusks; swords were often described in terms suggesting snakes; arms and armor were often given attributes more logically attached to warriors; the whole poem "The Dream of the Rood" involves the cross on which Jesus died explaining how it felt about its role in the crucifixion. (Note: assigning human characteristics or motivations to animals is anthropomorphism, part of sociology and psychology rather than poetry.) What the Critics Say about Beowulf Part 3

Part 3 (Dragon episode) of Beowulf:

The main cruxes or debates about the dragon episode in Beowulf include whether or not that episode is "really" part of the Beowulf story (see last week's "What the Critics Say"), whether Beowulf in part 3 is or is not a "Christ figure," who or what the "thief" represents, whether the ending is intended to be heroic or ironic, and what the description of the funeral at the end tells us about the origins of the story and about when this version of the story was first recorded. 1. Is Beowulf in part 3 a "Christ figure"? A Christ figure in literature is a character who is clearly intended to be entirely human rather than divine but who represents or illustrates one or more essential characteristic of Christ's, usually with some more or less peripheral supporting "clues" and NOTHING that indicates he or she is not a Christ figure.

Critical position #1: Beowulf is a Christ figure: he dies to protect his people from a problem that someone else caused and he goes into the fight knowing he is going to die. He has a comitatus (which is similar to a leader with disciples) consisting of 12 men, one of whom is the "thief" who betrayed the people and caused Beowulf's death for money. Most of his men/disciples do nothing to help him. Casting the fight in physical, heroic terms is consistent with the Anglo-Saxon perception of Jesus as hero. This position often extends the argument to parts 1 & 2, seeing Beowulf as a Christ figure in all three sections. In this critical position, Beowulf represents Christ (well, duh), the thief represents Judas, the dragon represents the devil (Old English used the same term, wyrm, for snakes, dragons, and reptiles in general, and the devil is presented as a serpent in the book of Genesis in the Bible) and the retainers who do nothing represent the disciples, with the one who ultimately does help and whom Beowulf establishes as the one to take charge of the kingdom representing Peter. This critical stance is based on the stance that the Beowulf poem is a Christian poem, partially in its original, oral form and fully in its manuscript form. Critical position #2: Beowulf is a pagan hero, not a Christ figure: the point of being a hero is to be willing to die for the sake of ones people and a "good king" was especially expected to protect his people (note that this position usually ties in with the idea that the poem is a unified whole, focused on the qualities of leaders and kings, which makes relevant the opening material about people otherwise irrelevant to the story). This position notes that the people Beowulf protects aren't "sinners" (the thief is the only definite evil-doer), that none of Jesus's disciples directly supported him, and that, ultimately, the people Beowulf dies to protect are destroyed anyway. This critical stance notes that Norse culture frequently uses a dragon to represent selfishness and greed, including seeing dragons as actually being transformed men who hoarded wealth rather than distributing it as they should. The position explains the 12 retainers/disciples as being either accidental or a detail added by a monk copying (or producing) the manuscript--or as not being 12 at all (the count of 12 depends on there being the 10 who were "tail-turners" [line 2848] , his supporter, Wiglaf, plus the thief--who is described as being "compelled" [line 2408] to lead them to the dragon's lair) 2. Who or what the "thief" represents:

The "Christ figure" interpretation sees the "thief" as representing Judas; the psychological interpretation sees the thief as Beowulf's own greed, which he realizes is destroying his people and which he ultimately defeats (this interpretation stresses the description of Beowulf asking Wulfstan to bring out some of the dragon's treasure for him to see before he dies); the fictionalized history interpretation (i.e., the idea that the story was originally a true account of an actual event--although with the dragon being metaphorical) sees the thief as someone who had lost his comitatus group who stole the cup--presumably from a neighboring tribe-both to prove his bravery and to try to "buy" his way into Beowulf's kindom.

3. The "point" of the ending: this crux varies widely, depending on whether the critic sees part 3 as really part of the Beowulf story or as a separate story with a hero who happened to have the same name, and what overall stance the critic takes (it's primarily a Christian story; it's primarily a pagan story; it's a story representing the stages of life; and so on). It has far too many variables to go into here, but the basic argument is whether the actual historical aftermath, which many of the listeners would know and which the poem alludes to, matters or not. In fact, Beowulf's people, without a strong leader, could not defend themselves against stronger kindoms: they were defeated, some scattered, the fighters mainly killed, and the women, children, farmers and craftsment taken into slavery. If that actual outcome matters, then the ending is ironic (Beowulf thinks he has died to protect his people and has provided for, he expects, a strong leader to continue to protect them, but his death actually destroys his people), or shows that "life sucks" (no matter what we do, fate is eventually unpleasant), or possibly shows that Beowulf's pride (in his fighting ability, his leadership, etc.) destroys both himself and his people. If that actual outcome doesn't matter (the story is "complete" at the end of what is recorded and the predictions of what will happen are a later addition), then the ending shows what a good king should do--be a mighty fighter, willing to die to defend his people, and able to provide for his people's future.

4. What the description of the funeral tells us: The description of the funeral is, as far as we know, reasonably historically accurate--but not quite. The events in the first part of the story seem early enough that the body would have been literally sent out to sea on a ship, possibly set on fire but possibly not; the period that seems to be covered in part 3 would have them build a ship as a sort of coffin, possibly burn it, but more likely bury it (see optional materials on the Sutton Hoo discovery); various women would indeed have been singing out in grief, primarily because they (his wife and female slaves and servants) would have been burned or buried with Beowulf, and the men riding around the barrow (tomb in our translation) would really have done so, except banging on their shields with their swords (to drown out any screams or other sounds that might suggest the women were less than delighted to be burned or buried alive)--warriors would be really unlikely to be "chanting in dirges" since that was the function of scops, bards, and priests. What all this tells us is that the account of events had an oral history with details getting lost over the years as scops told the story in terms they understood for funerals and that the first written account (whether or not that was the manuscript we have) happened long enough after the event for the author or manuscript artist to be unaware of what really happened or aware that these pagan funeral customs had changed. What the Critics Say about the Thread Readings

Note: Read all three of these if you wish, but the "required reading" part is just for the one thread you select for this week. Also note that the cruxes identified for each work provide possible topics for your weekly discussion post, but that you may write on other issues/questions instead.

Wife's Lament
This poem is a medievalist's delight--the manuscript is fragmentary (one of those that had been used to pad the leather cover of a later text), so we don't know for sure whether it was intended to stand alone or intended as part of a longer work (as one of those "songs" stuck into narratives, like in modern musicals). It looks like it is a "frauenlieder" (women's song) typical of those sung by women bards (and, later, women troubadors) in much of Europe, but we don't have reliable records to show that women were accepted as bards in Anglo Saxon England. The content suggests a love relationship that we don't see in the "major" texts from the period. What almost all of us know: the song describes a woman "in exile" separated from her lover or husband, who is suffering from the ill-will of his family or who believes that his family is responsible for her suffering. The basic arguments:

Why did her husband leave--on some ordinary business (and his family, in his absence, made sure he couldn't come home and drove her out)? or was he driven away through some feud with another family and his family then implicated her? or is the feud with his family due to their relationship? What is "this place" that her husband commanded her to stay in--their own home (presumably far from her own family)? his family's home? a convent? her grave? or literally a cave? Who told her to live in the earth-cave: her husband? his family? her own sense of selfpreservation? or some external legal authority on the basis of the "plot" her husband's kinfolk developed? Is she a "peace-weaver" who fell in love with her husband (and vice versa) but whose extended family decided not to honor the peace treaty? or is she just married to someone too far away from her own family to be able to return to them while her husband is gone and his family is persecuting her? or did her husband leave and then exile her on his return due to his family telling him lies about him?

What is the exact nature of her suffering--is she actually dead (the "earth-cave" being her grave) and her ghost or spirit lingers by her grave? has she escaped or been driven to live in a cave, fending for herself? or has she been exiled to some hovel outside the actual community but provided with basic necessities? or has she been sent to a convent?

By the way, most debate until about 50 years ago involved trying to explain the poem as being about a man who had been driven out of his comitatus--poems don't have titles in the manuscripts; this approach depends on assuming that the poem can't possibly be about a woman or about marriage. The poem received little critical attention in the past since it makes little sense if the speaker is male.

Judith
The Book of Judith was among the most popular of the books of the Bible in this period--you will look for it in a modern Bible in vain, though--it is now considered "apocryphal" (see p. 100 in the Norton Anthology). The story was so popular because it matched up so well with the culture's fascination with how things all fit together--in this case a religious account that shows heroic values--and because it so heavily inculcates the idea that everyone can and should be follow heroic principles: you can't say, "well, I'd be as heroic as Beowulf if I had the strength of 30 men in my hands, but I'm physically weak so I'm excused." Judith is a "mere woman" but she stands up to both the Israelite leaders and to Nebuchadnezzer's most fearsome general and comes up with a plan that lets her use her strengths, rather than be-moaning her weaknesses. Her plan also involves substantial risk to herself (both to her person and to her life), but, again, she takes that risk when she could have reasonably expected that such risks would be taken by the Israelite warriors. Finally, what she does shows the value of both individual courage and intelligence AND of faith. Many of the cruxes involve the differences between other versions and the Anglo-Saxon poem (such as the fact that Judith beheads Holofernes with a sword rather than nailing his head to the floor with a tent peg) which are beyond the scope of this course. What remains for us are questions about honor (was it honorable to lop his head off when he's drunk and focused on having sex with an apparently willing partner? was it honorable for the Israelite leaders and soldiers to accept her plan?) and about what the story says about the reason(s) for her success: from a religious perspective, the point is supposed to be her faith, but her actions aren't especially consistent with religious values--are they consistent with heroic values? Included in such questions are Judith's rewards--battle armor--which clearly cast her in a heroic mold (she gets household goods, jewelry, etc. in the Latin version). Critics also have focused on comparing Judith with Beowulf. Richard Trask, in his 1998 critical study of the two poems Bewulf and Judith: Two Heroes (UP of America), calls them "epic companions." He sees both poems making much the same point--that the pagan heroic values can get you only so far-with Beowulf as a "sprawling elegaic epic" and Judith, with Judith as explicitly a "bride of Christ," as a "concentrated, dazzling, diamond-hard affirmation of fervency and faith" (p. 14). If we focus not on Judith but on the Israelite leaders and warriors, this piece makes an excellent "companion" piece to "The Battle of Maldon"--here, the warriors take advantage of the enemy's weakness, and save their people; in "Maldon," the warriors let the enemy have a position of strength, and their people are destroyed. Which approach is truly heroic?

Battle of Maldon
Another medievalist's delight! In this case, we have other sources confirming (more or less) the historical event on which the text focuses and providing factual detail about specific people, weapons, practices, etc. (see the introduction to the poem in your Norton text). Even more interesting, though, is what the poem is missing. As your text points out, the manuscript was seriously damaged, and we depend on a copy (and on other sources about the event), but some questions exist about how complete the source manuscript was: how much of it is a copy and how much is the copyist's own additions to fill in already damaged material? Even the copy doesn't have the poem's opening

materials. As your text notes, most scholars think that we are missing only a few lines--but we might be missing pages. And the ending seems really abrupt--do we actually have the end of the poem? As for "The Wife's Lament" the critic discussions are far too numerous (and often too technical) to cover here, but these are two of the debates.

When Offa's kinsman releases his "beloved hawk" into the woods, does that mean he knows he is going to die and is symbolically leaving things dear to him? or does it mean he had originally shown up expecting some frivolous event and now realizes the seriousness of the upcoming fight? does it show a more emotional connection to animals than we see elsewhere in this period (is the hawk his "pet" in the modern sense?)? or is the information irrelevant regarding Offa's kinsman and is included just to get "beasts of battle" (hawks, crows, & wolves) into the poem as foreshadowing (setting up the slaughter later on)? When Brithnoth's son, decides to let the invaders cross the little bridge of land, does the poet see this as evidence of the defender's courage and honor (i.e., that's what they should have done--fight like "real men!") or as evidence that they abandoned their duty for individual glory (they could easily have kept the Vikings from getting across and thereby defended the village but really had no chance of winning otherwise)--were they honorable, in making the fight "fair" or dishonorable because they abandoned their responsibilities as defenders?

Here's a suggestion for a discussion post: assuming that we don't have the ending, write that ending, establishing the point you think the author intended and explain what portions in the existing materials lead you to believing that's the author's intention.

Dream of the Rood

Although we have quite a few "dream visions" in the religious commentary from this period, much of it is too heavy-handed for modern tastes--it is 90% didactic (making a point) and maybe 10% entertainment. The "Dream of the Rood" is both excellent literature, with beautiful visual images, and useful for establishing Anglo-Saxon views of Christianity (besides focusing on theological points that trouble people today). The details of the theological points are outside the scope of a literature course, but they include concerns about whether Jesus really died on a cross--a death suitable for criminals--or on some sort of stake (I believe the stake interpretation is part of the Jehovah Witness belief system, and I refer you to any of that group's websites for more information). This poem emphatically takes the cross position, arguing, in effect, that because the cross was despised in its role in Jesus's death, it earned a "heavenly crown" just the same as any martyr would have. The debate, though, is whether the poem presents the cross literally as a thinking, sentient being (consistent with pagan Celtic belief), who consciously chooses to obey God and who literally ends up in heaven rewarded as a martyr, or if this presentation is intended as entirely metaphorical, illustrating the difficulty in and rewards for obeying God. The poet says "I prayed to the tree" (i.e., prayed to the Cross) and expects that the Cross will be the one to "fetch" him or her and take him or her to heaven when s/he dies. Is that literal (as Druid's might have prayed to a nature diety represented by an oak) or metaphorical (honoring the cross as a symbol of suffering and noting that the suffering involved in dying will mark the start of his heavenly reward)? A similar debate concerns the presentation of Jesus as a young hero. Is this a conscious attempt on the poet's part to cast Jesus in the heroic terms that would make sense to his or her audience? Or does it show that the author, probably in a monastery (or maybe convent) established from the 4th century conversions in Ireland, really saw Christianity in Celtic terms (Jesus in this poem sounds a lot like the Goddess's Consort and like Branwen, from the Celtic epic, Mabinogi [note that those of Welsh descent, like me, are about the only ones who consider this work an epic <smile>] ).