The Beowulf Discussion: Section XI

[Michael]

This discussion was originally posted to the Endor mailing list. It used the Project Gutenberg eText based on Frances Barton Gummere's translation of the poem. The source can be found here:
http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/etext97/bwulf11.txt

It is necessary to use a public domain translation, so while more modern translations may be better or preferable, we cannot legally cite their texts here.

Eventually, I switched over to using this source text:
http://www.gutenberg.org/files/16328/16328-8.txt

The section numbers differ by 1. I had to post a "null" section for Section XVI to make the transition between translations. Some of my comments address the translator's choices, and they are not relevant to other translations.
XI



THEN from the moorland, by misty crags,
with God's wrath laden, Grendel came.
The monster was minded of mankind now
sundry to seize in the stately house.
Under welkin he walked, till the wine-palace there,
gold-hall of men, he gladly discerned,
flashing with fretwork. Not first time, this,
that he the home of Hrothgar sought, --
yet ne'er in his life-day, late or early,
such hardy heroes, such hall-thanes, found!
To the house the warrior walked apace,
parted from peace; {11a} the portal opended,
though with forged bolts fast, when his fists had
struck it,
and baleful he burst in his blatant rage,
the house's mouth. All hastily, then,
o'er fair-paved floor the fiend trod on,
ireful he strode; there streamed from his eyes
fearful flashes, like flame to see.



He spied in hall the hero-band,
kin and clansmen clustered asleep,
hardy liegemen. Then laughed his heart;
for the monster was minded, ere morn should dawn,
savage, to sever the soul of each,
life from body, since lusty banquet
waited his will! But Wyrd forbade him
to seize any more of men on earth
after that evening. Eagerly watched
Hygelac's kinsman his cursed foe,
how he would fare in fell attack.
Not that the monster was minded to pause!
Straightway he seized a sleeping warrior
for the first, and tore him fiercely asunder,
the bone-frame bit, drank blood in streams,
swallowed him piecemeal: swiftly thus
the lifeless corse was clear devoured,
e'en feet and hands. Then farther he hied;
for the hardy hero with hand he grasped,
felt for the foe with fiendish claw,
for the hero reclining, -- who clutched it boldly,
prompt to answer, propped on his arm.
Soon then saw that shepherd-of-evils
that never he met in this middle-world,
in the ways of earth, another wight
with heavier hand-gripe; at heart he feared,
sorrowed in soul, -- none the sooner escaped!
Fain would he flee, his fastness seek,
the den of devils: no doings now
such as oft he had done in days of old!
Then bethought him the hardy Hygelac-thane
of his boast at evening: up he bounded,
grasped firm his foe, whose fingers cracked.
The fiend made off, but the earl close followed.
The monster meant -- if he might at all --
to fling himself free, and far away
fly to the fens, -- knew his fingers' power
in the gripe of the grim one. Gruesome march
to Heorot this monster of harm had made!
Din filled the room; the Danes were bereft,
castle-dwellers and clansmen all,
earls, of their ale. Angry were both
those savage hall-guards: the house resounded.
Wonder it was the wine-hall firm
in the strain of their struggle stood, to earth
the fair house fell not; too fast it was
within and without by its iron bands
craftily clamped; though there crashed from sill
many a mead-bench -- men have told me --
gay with gold, where the grim foes wrestled.
So well had weened the wisest Scyldings
that not ever at all might any man
that bone-decked, brave house break asunder,
crush by craft, -- unless clasp of fire
in smoke engulfed it. -- Again uprose
din redoubled. Danes of the North
with fear and frenzy were filled, each one,
who from the wall that wailing heard,
God's foe sounding his grisly song,
cry of the conquered, clamorous pain
from captive of hell. Too closely held him
he who of men in might was strongest
in that same day of this our life.




INITIAL COMMENTARY:

The translator used a curious word here, "welkin" (meaning the open sky). I always thing of other things, including Welch's Grape Juice, when I see this word. It's a Middle English word, ultimately derived from Old English "weolcen", 'cloud'. I don't recall Tolkien ever using this word in his Middle-earth (LoTR-era and later) texts.

One of the strangest aspects of this story is the fact that Grendel beats the front door (which was bolted shut) in with his fists, but not one of Beowulf's Geatish heroes wakes up!

Grendel comes from the moorlands, described briefly as a craggy highland. Tolkien's Ettenmoors (north of Rivendell) may owe something to this homeland for Grendel. Trolls and possibly giants lived in the Ettenmoors, and one of Aragorn's ancestors was taken and killed by trolls in that region.

And notice also that "fearful flashes, like flame" stream from Grendel's eyes. Maybe the post-1940 Balrog(s) owe something to Grendel, too.