Monday, September 27, 2010

Courtesy

What was that courtesy code of the knights? Strong guys, strongly armed going here and there wearing armors… they are supposed to be good makers, but why doing the right thing required swords? A bunch of armed guys with volatile tempers are controlled by this alleged code. They were not like the modern police, they did not answer to a superior except for a lord or a king who was too busy doing his own violence against the villain of the moment.
The code looks abstract and vague from this point of history. It is almost a good manner manual, but did it have actual ethic content? Being brave and doing the good thing seems not to be enough specific rules, and the respect of the honor sometimes seems more like an infantile excuse for bullying… except that we are talking about big guys with swords.
May be is because of my Hispanic heritage that when I think about a knight I cannot avoid thinking about “Don Quijote de la Mancha”, trying to force someone to confess that his “Dulcinea” was the most beautiful girl ever… “Don Quijote” was a lousy warrior and most of the times he got beaten, but he could take the “Helmet of Mambrino” –which was actually a barber’s bowl –using violence. His courtesy code was absurd even in the sixteen century.
Was the Chivalry Code more logical during the middle ages and its application restricted toe when it was possible, as the modern Humanitarian Law? Were these knights actually models of virtue or just a bunch of belligerent guys doing almost what they wanted?

Ugliness and Beauty

One topic I didn't have time to discuss in my presentation was the relationship between ugliness and beauty. In all the texts we have read so far, the narrators give us plenty of details regarding the hideous features of the monsters/others. Indeed, the narrator of "Dame Ragnelle" leaves little to imagination when describing the loathly lady.

However these same narrators are almost silent when it comes to beauty. Other than using vague sup relatives like "the most beautiful woman ever", the narrators never give us a sense of what they look like. What color of hair does Dame Ragnelle have post transformation? What facial features does the fairy queen in Lanval have? What does the narrators lack of description mean? I would propose that the reason has to do with the nature of beauty. It has been said, "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder". Beauty is relative because there is no universal standard of what beauty is or is not. Indeed, movies stars, models, and the like possess a marketable beauty because many other people consider them beautiful. But even celebrities are not considered beautiful by everyone. Everyone has his/her own definition of beauty, so no person can be universally acclaimed as "the most beautiful".

By contrast, ugliness/monstrous is easier to pinpoint. The narrators can expound on the grotesque details of the ugliness/monstrous because these details are more universally identifiable. It is doubtful that anyone in any time or culture would consider a woman with boar's tusks to be attractive! Beauty then is subjective, whereas ugliness/monstrous is objective (at least more so than beauty). While we can debate who is the most beautiful man or woman on earth, we will all probably agree that Grendel, his mother, the Carl, and the loathly Dame Ragnelle are not.

Dame Ragnelle and Queen Bramimonde

I found The Wedding of Sir Gawain and Dame Ragnelle the most interesting of the three Sir Gawain poems we had to read for Monday's class. The character of Dame Ragnelle is truly fascinating: she is monstrous, "she was as ungoodly a creature / As evere man sawe, withoute mesure" (228-9), she exhibits agency and a desire for "sovereynte" and, after her marriage to a knight and magical transformation into the most beautiful woman at court, is also magically transformed into an obedient wife. Her trajectory in the poem reminded me of the Saracen princess or queen who displays all the qualities that are disdained in a good Christian woman but is still considered a herione and, upon marriage to a knight and conversion from paganism, becomes the perfect wife.

In many ways we can think of Dame Ragnelle as a proto-feminist: she wishes, above all, for autonomy. She is shrewd and she is bold and she is willing to risk disloyalty to the only family member we know of, her mischief making brother Sir Gromer Somer. She is similar to Queen Bramimonde who also exhibits her own agency and has no problem hurling curses at her own gods thus demonstrating that she, too, is willing to exhibit disloyalty to religion and family which is only further confirmed by her later conversion. Both are willful women who are tamed by marriage and absorption into a new society. Dame Ragnelle, despite her insistence that all women really want sovereignty, is all too happy to give this up, voluntarily, upon her marriage to Sir Gawain and Bramimonde-Juliana becomes fully absorbed into Christian society as a mild mannered lady.

For all the parallels, however, it is the difference between Dame Ragnelle and the typical Saracen princess/queen that struck me. Dame Ragnelle is ugly, is monstrous, is so completely other, whereas medieval poems typically portray the Saracen princess as beautiful, alluring and, most importantly, white. (I know there are cases when she is black but, as far as I know, when she converts to Christianity her blackness melts away into whiteness.) The Saracen princess is exactly like a Christian heroine except she is willful and disobedient to her family and faith. These kinks, as it were, are remedied upon her conversion and marriage whereupon she is transformed into the good Christian woman. In the Saracen princess case, her monstrosity is her paganism and sense of agency which can be changed by conversion. In Dame Ragnelle's case, however, she may already be Christian but she is willful and disobedient and, most importantly, really really ugly. The Saracen princess is admired for her beauty, already in a sense belonging to the society that she will join at the end of the poem, but there is no place for Dame Ragnelle and she has to force her way into society where she is barely tolerated. It begs the question: what is the function of Dame Ragnelle's monstrosity? Is it caused, in part, by her agency and willfulness or is that just a symptom of it?

In both cases, however different on the surface, there are two women who are figured as monstrous - one for her geographic location and one for her appearance - and a marriage to a knight is central to her transformation, not only into an acceptable Christian lady who must look the part, but also one who must act the part.

Friday, September 24, 2010

Chivalric Code vs. The Law

In the Carle of Carlisle I was fascinated by Sir Gawain’s immense courtesy to the Carle, especially after Jeffery Jerome Cohen pointed out that this courtesy “is synonymous with unthinking obedience” (161). Cohen also points out that Sir Gawain partakes in gluttony, lust, and homicide, which are all prohibited in chivalric code.

While gluttony, lust, and homicide sound like a good old medieval time, it doesn’t seem that Sir Gawain was merely rolling his dice in Vegas; he was very particularly following the desires of his host. My big question becomes why? Why would Sir Gawain show courtesy to a monster of sorts? Doesn’t chivalric code trump monster favors? In the end I was convinced otherwise.

This poem seems to suggest that following the rules and laws of the realm a knight enters is more important than the values of the chivalric code. When Sir Gawain and the other knights first enter the Carle’s castle they are met by a bear, boar, bull, and lion. The Carle immediately asserts himself as their ruler by commanding the animals to stop snarling, and the animals follow his orders. The knights are very clearly on the Carle's turf.

Sir Gawain seems to follow the animals lead, obeying the desires of the Carle. Because Sir Gawain shows this courtesy to the Carle instead of following chivalric code (and in the end is rewarded with his life) it seems the poem might be making the statement that following the codes of a particular realm while within that realm is more important than the values of chivalry.

Monday, September 20, 2010

The Monstrous Female Body in "Beowulf"

Beowulf states in the poem "Sorrow not, wise one! It is always better / to avenge one's friend than to mourn overmuch" (1384-1385). That is, of course, unless you are a woman. For a woman to avenge one's friend, or one's son as illustrated by the actions of Grendel's mother, is problematic - in Beowulf such a woman functions as a perversion of the ideal female in Danish society. For a woman to exhibit agency is figured as fearful, threatening, even monstrous. Women, particularly women's bodies, have always posed a threat to society and Grendel's mother is just another to add to the list.

Jane Chance, in "The Structural Unity of Beowulf: The Problem of Grendel's Mother," convincingly argues that the function of Grendel's mother in the poem is to represent everything a woman should not be and do: she should not avenge her son's death, she should not show agency but, rather, passivity in matters of state, she should not exhibit pride, etc. Because Grendel's mother does show agency she is figured as monstrous and it is made clear in the poem that there is no room for her in respectable Danish society. And, yet, upon first read I found myself almost sympathizing with Grendel's mother - she has just lost her son and, in a society that places signficance on vengence and kinship, I thought it was only normal for her to want to avenge her son.

Over the centuries, women's bodies have always held a certain amount of fascination for some but, unfortunately, this fascination has usually morphed into disgust and evidence for their affinity towards less Godly, and more monstrously demonic, forces. The body of Grendel's mother is an example of this. She is the only mother in the poem to give birth and raise a son without a father-figure. In fact, it is not altogether clear if there ever was a father at all thereby endowing the body of Grendel's mother with unfathomable powers which would, undoubtedly, seem threatening to the male dominated society of the Danes. Moreover, her battle with Beowulf is imbued with sexual overtones which could further suggest fear of female sexuality. It is only natural, then, that she should be a monster as the perversions she represents would not be embodied by a good Danish woman.

Sunday, September 19, 2010

Only the Lonely

One of the most surprising things to me about the great death of Beowulf is that he does not die alone. When, before preparing to confront the dragon, he states, "I would always go before him, / alone on the front line - and all of my life / I will wage war, while this sword endures" (lines 2497 - 2499), the poem seems to be setting up a parallel between being a great fighter, and fighting alone, which would lead one to assume often means dying alone.

In Beowulf's two other major fights, he is very much depicted as the lone warrior fighting against evil, while those around him sort of, kind of help out. When he kills Grendel, the other men of the hall, even the fighters he hand-picked to assist him, are prevented from helping because of their use of weapons. When he invades Grendel's mother's home, he does so by himself. The many battles that occupied the fifty years between his defeat of Grendel's mother and his confrontation with the dragon were no doubt filled with cooperative warfare, but we hear less about those, implying that the heroics that are worth writing about are those in which one man takes on many monsters.

Compounding our image of Beowulf the lonely is the fact that we never hear about him marrying or having children, something that I would think was odd for the leader of a people, who would in other circumstances would feel compelled to produce a son to carry on his leadership. Instead, he is a man only of war, with no need for a "peaceweaver" wife, or sons to continue his reign.

This is not to say that Beowulf is outside of society in any way - he is not Grendel. Beowulf is both within the hall society and a little above it. He participates in the celebrations and exchanges of property that come along with being a good fighter, and he is seen as a loyal thane, but he is dedicated to fighting and defending his people, which seems to set him a little apart from others.

Yet Beowulf the solitary is given company at his death in the form of the loyal Wiglaf, who not only helps him to defeat the dragon (doing most of the heavy lifting himself), but comforts him and stays with him. Wiglaf is acting as a surrogate son in ensuring that Beowulf is honored, and he is also acting as a kind of surrogate "reader" of Beowulf's life by ensuring this his last words are heard. Perhaps lone warriors are not truly alone as long as we hear of their good deeds.

Super Beowulf?

Beowulf is a man, just a simple mortal who can be under water by a day and sometimes exhibits some superhuman strength… but he is just a man. Was he the whole day inside the water or was he just the most part of it? How could he survive the lake were Grendel’s mom seemed to live? Of course this is just an overheard story, a legend and it is impossible to know what really happened or if something actually really happened. However, assuming the poet wanted to establish that Beowulf was just a simple mortal, did they knew at the time the real capacities of human body?
Time is a subjective impression, especially if somebody is not wearing a precise watch and it is very probably that somebody could really think he or she is really a long time under the water and, without counting the times a person goes out to breathe it could seem that someone is under the water the whole day! However, this attempt of explanation is just speculation. What can we say about a world with trolls! What is a troll, actually! Beowulf takes place in a non historic world or at least in a world where its historic aspects are totally hid for us.
What we can know by reading Beowulf is about the character of the people who conceived it and enjoyed it, about their beliefs and hopes. We can also know how their ways passed to us as parts of the Western Culture, but we cannot know what really happened there, if something happened, and some of their perspectives are lost for us forever. That is the problem when time goes by without proper records.

The Uncle Pagan...


Poor old Danish and poor old Geats! They never knew about the holly revelation and that is why they were idolatrous. If they knew the true God they probably never had to hire Beowulf, because God would not permit Grendel killing thanes…
The poet shows more mercy to the ancient Danish and Geats than Roland’s author shows for the Saracens. Is it just a difference of style? Well, first of all, with women exchanged as presents and to seal alliances, it is of high probability that our unknown author had a Danish grandmother or a Geat aunt. Secondly, at the time when this poem was written, most of the Danish and Nordics tribes were already Christians, just like the English of the time. English ancestors were also Pagans until three or four generations before the poem was written and they shared many aspects with ancient People of the North… so let’s be indulgent to the ancient pagans. They did not know about Christ and if they knew, they would embrace the true faith, because they were Christian in their character and they had the favor of the Lord…
The poem presents the ancient pagans as Christians in their ways and tries to present them as the prototype of chivalry and knighthood, even when, at that time, those things were not invented yet. The poem reinterprets an old story and presents it as compendium of “Christian” –as Christianity was understood in Middle Ages –and noble virtues present in the very origin of the People of the North, who shared some codes with the contemporary English. Was this poem composed in occasion of some alliance?

Thursday, September 16, 2010

Wealhtheow the Slave-Servant

Knowing what we do about Wealhtheow (particularly regarding her prominence in Hrothgar's court and her contrast to Grendel's mother), how can we explain a name like Wealhtheow?

While at least one scholar has noted that this could be a nickname, I have to contest - what kind of nickname is a literal combination for "slave/foreigner" and "servant?" The possibility that someone consciously applied that name to this woman (whether it was the poet or someone who knew her)suggests that we may extrapolate from that name deeper knowledge of her character and position in both Danish society and the poem. As I mentioned previously, Wealhtheow seems to present an example of a strong queen. How, then is she slave, foreigner or servant?

It seems more logical that the "Weal-" portion of her name suggests that she is a foreigner, an outsider to this culture. From all that we have seen presenting women as peace-weavers in this culture, Wealhtheow could easily have been born leagues upon leagues away and married to Hrothgar to seal some sort of peace accord. In that sense, although made immediately royal by her status among the Danes, she is a slave to that self-same peace. In the seventeenth fit, Wealhtheow comes forward immediately following the story of how Hildeburh lost brother, husband, son, everything through the pitfalls of her own peace-weaving, and we see that Wealhtheow is aware of this because she presently defends the rights of her sons. Although the individual composing Wealhtheow's nickname may have intended the meaning 'foreigner,' 'slave' seems to be just as appropriate to her tightly locked position in Hrothgar's hall, in which she has very little freedom at all.

The fact that her name/nickname concludes "-theow" or "servant" perhaps should not surprise us, especially if we consider Wealhtheow an example of what a good hall-wife should do: serve her people and her guests. Wealhtheow is clearly described passing the mead cup from highest- to lowest-ranking thanes in Heorot and finally to Beowulf. Additionally, she serves Beowulf in presenting him with gifts. And on a bawdier note, she clearly serves Hrothgar when he wishes to seek his queen's bedchamber (664-665).

For all that Wealhtheow is a prominent figure in these first two-thirds of the poem (she is the only woman exposed to the grisly spectacle of Grendel's head, for example, in lines 1648-50), she is not necessarily a dominant character. As weird as is feels to jokingly (or heaven forbid - tenderly) call someone your dearest slave-servant, the name certainly fits.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Hrothgar the Lazy

One of the fundemental responsibilities of a king is to protect his people. This is especially true when a violent, man-eating monster is nightly breaking into his mead hall and eating his thanes! For 12 years, Grendel terrorizes Heorot and its environs, yet Hrothgar apparently does nothing to stop him. There are no indications in the text that Hrothgar attempts to deal with Grendel, or that his thanes and people are bothered or upset by the ineffectiveness of their leader. This is bizare to me since our society wants to oust any leader if he cannot resolve a problem in a few years, let alone 12 years.

Hrothgar, at least from the way he is introduced in the opening fitts, seems like he is a capable warrior. In fitt I the poet says, "Then success in war was given to Hrothgar, / honor in battle, so that his beloved kinsmen / eagerly served him / until the young soldiers grew / into a mighty trop of men" (I:64-67). He builds an impressive mead hall, has ample rings and treasure to give, and is married to a gracious woman. It would seem he has the makings of a good ruler. But military prowess, wealth, and generocity do not always denote an effective leader. This appears to be the case with Hrothgar, who lets Grendel roam the land unchecked.

Perhaps, though, he doesn't have time to fight the monster because he is more interested in pursuing other interests, mainly his wife. Several other blogs have rightly pointed out that Hrothgar often is seen emerging from the woman's chambers or relies on Wealhtheow. It seems she keeps Hrothgar on a short leash, or he would rather spend time with her than attending to his duties. I am not sure which of them is pulling the strings, but in any event, Grendel has free reign.

I don't want to judge him too harshly since there is so much the poem doesn't say about him. However, enough of his character is described to question his leadership. I do know that I were a subject of his, I would have left Heorot a long time before Beowulf showed up, that is if Grendel didn't kill me!

Monday, September 13, 2010

Is a Monster a Monster?

In Jane Chance’s article The Structural Unity of Beowulf she suggests that the attempt of Grendel’s mother to avenge his death would be justified if she were human and male. This got me thinking. It seems to me that being a human is the more weighted of these two characteristics, as I find it unlikely that a mass-murdering-monster’s father could avenge his son’s death with no consequence. On the other hand, could a human mother avenge her son’s death with no consequence? I’m not sure. Perhaps I’m being unfair—not all monsters are of the Grendel human eating troupe. However, it still seems more probable that the mother could avenge without consequence—Being human matters.

But this is really neither here nor there. What I find most interesting is Beowulf’s treatment of the two monsters. As victims, both Grendel and his mother are beheaded. There is no distinction based on sex. To me this starts to suggest that monster is the defining characteristic, and gender takes the backseat.

In line 1393 Beowulf also fails to use the correctly gendered pronoun to describe Grendel’s mother. Beowulf says “he will find no protection” when referring to Grendel’s mother. This further suggests that monster is the focus, and gender the background.

Finally, Beowulf underestimates Grendel’s mother when he says “The horror was less / by as much as a maiden’s strength / a woman’s warfare, is less than an armed man’s” (1281-1284). As we know, the battle with Grendel’s mother is more treacherous that the battle with Grendel himself. Perhaps Grendel’s mother not fitting the medieval female stereotype indicates her monster trait weighs more.

Of course this is not to say that gender does not add complexity to this monster! It is just to point out that Grendel’s mother doesn’t receive much special treatment as a result of her gender. But in the end, perhaps for a female that is special treatment in and of itself.

Sunday, September 12, 2010

Grendel and Technology

Along the lines of Aia's and Megan's posts, I have been thinking about what Grendel might have represented to the original audience of Beowulf. Clearly, as Liuzza says, he is a terrifying combination of pagan and Christian threats, an amorphous boogie-man that is all the more frightening for being undefined. Still, the aspect that most fascinates me about Grendel is that weapons have no power over him because "he had worked a curse on weapons / every sort of blade" (ln 804-805). Could it be that he represents a past that is not only pagan, but also pre-technology? He can be seen not only as a destroyer and consumer of men, but also the embodiment of the fear that the things that man has created to make him safe are of no use against true evil.

We can see this first with the ease with which Grendel penetrates the hall, which is depicted as beautiful and towering, something that "the sons of men should remember forever" (ln 70). The pride of the Danish people, filled with its lords and warriors, as well as poets and musicians (all the best representatives of the current culture, in other words) becomes a target for Grendel's rage and then the site of frequent massacres. The Geats, with their beautiful, well-made and frightening armor and weaponry, are in fact no better equipped to meet Grendel than their counterparts. The look-out may be impressed by their showing, but the reader knows that all of their shields will not keep them safe against Grendel.

Only Beowulf's lucky decision to meet the demon without a sword - something that he amusingly seems to consider a way to keep things fair ("I will not kill him with a sword, / put an end to his life, though I easily might; / he knows no arts of war, no way to strike back" ln679-681) - leads to the defeat of the monster. In other words, only by regressing back to an earlier form of combat is Beowulf able to survive and kill Grendel. The people end up being saved, not by superior weapons, but by a very firm grip. This seems to me to suggest that there was an anxiety about the technology of the time - the swords, chain mail, and shields- and a fear that there might exist something in the world that could not be stopped by such civilized defenses.

Thursday, September 9, 2010

Lanval feminsit?

Is the fairy world in "Lanval" a world of feminine supremacy? The fairy world appear as a world with not masculine presence at all. The fairies travel alone and that is very uncommon for the medieval human women:they are enormously rich and they are in control. On the opposite there is Arthur's world. He is in the middle o finishing a war against Picts and other tribes and spreading presents among his knights. Women has no name and we do not even know if his queen is Guinevere or another previous wife.
Lanval gets rich after his erotic  encounter with the fairy, but he is questioned about his masculinity. Have he lost his male virtues because of the encounter with the fairy?
The fairy finally came in his help. The man is rescued by the girl and taken to the other world... this world is also the world of the death. Arthur himself will be transported there at the end of his life...
At least in this story, fairy world looks as women dominated world, maybe with no man in it. The doubt is if we can take Lanval story separated and assume this view as general view of this other world or if it is just a fantasy of the author... who happens to be a woman, a literate woman and probably an ambitious one. 

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

The Power behind Hrothgar's Throne

Who is Wealhtheow? She is Hrothgar's queen, we know that much. But aside from numerous qualities praising her to this extent, that is all we know. And yet she is vastly important. For all that she is relationally ambiguous, she is hugely important to the first two parts of the story. Hrothgar rarely appears without her, and her presence is much more than just silent feminine existence.

Notably, in a passage following the fatal injury of Grendel, Hrothgar "strode glorious / from the women's chambers" (is this a shameful place to be? this is where he has been in hiding) "with a great entourage, / a chosen retinue, and his royal queen with him / measured the meadhall-path" (lines 921-924). In the day of victory, Wealhtheow emerges triumphant alongside Hrothgar. It would seem that during a time of danger, he was actually taking refuge in the women's quarters, in her domain where she would assume a dominant protective role. We are told earlier that "The war-chief wished to seek Wealhtheow, / his queen's bedchamber" (lines 664-664). Whether there is a sexual refuge implied here or not, Wealhtheow is definitely given the authority of being Hrothgar's safe space when he doesn't want to die a horrible death at Grendel's hands.

Additionally, during the celebratory feasting, it is Wealhtheow that we hear speak, far more than anyone else. We are told of the gifts Hrothgar gives to Beowulf, but it is Wealhtheow who provides the poet with commentative narrative within the story. She is the character strong enough to present gifts along with compliments and well-wishes for their use. "Beowulf, beloved warrior, wear this neck-ring..." (line 1216). Et cetera.

The real clincher in her position as a powerful female figure in her community is her behavior as hostess. She concludes the short speech begun above thus: "The troop, having drunk at my table, will do as I bid" (line 1231). This is her party, and she knows it.

It seems that Hrothgar is as much defined by his queen - and by her constant strong presence - as he is by Heorot or the persecution from Grendel. She is quite literally the power behind his throne.

Looking Back in Beowulf

R. M. Liuzza states in our Intro to Beowulf that the average reader approaches the text with the expectation that s/he will come face to face with the "collective unconscious of English culture, [that the text] will allow him to experience at first hand what is primordial, elemental and primitively powerful in it." But, he goes on to say, the reader finds that Beowulf does not contain anything we might call primorodial but is, itself, looking back as well (17). It's as if we are reading an epic about the making of an epic. This raises the question as to whether there is anything "primordial" or "elemental" in any culture or literature or whether whatever is deemed to be "primoridial" is, itself, contingent on the age (among many other things).

This idea of looking back has always fascinated me as it has fascinated many who are interested in understanding, not only literary or nationalisitic origins, but also human ones. The Victorian period is wrought with novels and essays and poems about looking backwards to our past, our primal ancestors, at the same time that they are fervently pushing forward with industrialization and modernization. This idea that we cannot move forward without taking stock of our origins is not a new one and it seems to be operating in Beowulf in a fundamental way.

I should say at this point that I have only done the reading for our first Beowulf meeting - just wrapped up the battle and defeat of Grendel. It seems to me to be a battle between the hero, Beowulf, and the very material and extremely hostile world in which Beowulf must decide what man he will be and what he will fight/stand for. This battle becomes a microcosm for the world at large that is taking stock of the kind of nation and people they want to be. They must rid themselves of the past that no longer serves them (and maybe Grendel is a symbolic stand-in for paganism?) before they can move forward to what seems to be a more Christian future. They must, in a sense, come to terms about their past before they can move forward.

Sunday, September 5, 2010

What is Grendel Anyway?

A giant man eating monster, whom like Cain, was exiled by God. Yes, that much we know. The poet tells us that Grendel is a “fiend from hell” (101), and a “grim spirit” (102)—In short, a no nonsense evil to the bone kind of guy. But what drove him into the throat-slitting-blood-drinking-flesh-gobbling business?

Is Grendel a pagan—the same force that Roland and Charlemagne were to overcome (with the help of God himself of course)? Well, Grendel is called the “foe of mankind” (164), and Beowulf’s pre-game wrestling match discussion, “let the wise Lord grant the judgment of glory…to whichever hand seems proper” suggests that God was on the side of Beowulf, the victor in the fight. According to the Roland model, it would appear that Grendel is the pagan to be conquered.

However, it seems that paganism is not the corrupting force in Grendel. In fact, some of Grendel’s potential prey “offered honor to idols at pagan temples” (175-176). The poet then explains that “they did not know the Lord God, ore even how to praise the heavenly Protector” (181-182) and asserts his Christian opinion. Because the poet is taking the time to assert these opinions outside of the monster, it suggests Grendel’s downfall may not of the pagan variety.

Luizza argues that Beowulf is a Christian poem about Pagans that avoids automatic condemnation. I would suggest that the condemnation of Paganism is subtler in Beowulf than in Roland. So, in the end, I don’t know what Grendel is. Perhaps Grendel is, as Luizza suggests, the “embodiment of fratricide” based on his association with Cain, or maybe he’s just evil.

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Swooning in "The Song of Roland"

While I thought that Sharon Kinoshita's article was persuasive and illuminating in its discussion of the deployment of gender, I still think the world of The Song of Roland is primarily a man's world. It's a world of knights and war and territorial expansion and homosocial relationships between men. And, yet, it's also a world where there is a considerable amount of weeping and fainting, two activities that have been traditionally associated with women. I kept finding myself saying aloud, as I was reading Roland, "Run mad as often as you choose, but do not faint!" courtesy of Jane Austen, because it's a marvel that these knights and warriors, who pierce each other with lances and see bowels and brains spill out of their companions, would have the sort of constitution that would resort to swooning when they are overcome with emotions. I agree with Kinoshita that the poem "is haunted by a crisis of nondifferentiation" when it comes to the Christians and Saracens but it is also haunted, to some extent, by this same crisis when it comes to gender. The men are brave and noble just as they are affectionate and emotional.

The Introduction to my copy of Roland, by Dorothy L. Sayers, does mention that by the standards of feudal epic this sort of behavior is correct as the death of a beloved nephew or close friend warrants weeping and swooning and would not have been perceived as a character weakness in the eleventh century. She states that "the idea that a strong man should react to great personal and national calamities by a slight compression of the lips and by silently throwing his cigarette into the fireplace is of very recent origin" (15). Fainting, especially by the thousands, is depicted as heroic and epic and perfectly acceptable in the poem. To be affectionate or overly emotional is somehow linked with the noble world of knights which raises questions about gender differentiation. Fainting in the eighteenth and nineteenth century, however, is usually depicted as proof of the weak constitution of women or it is parodied, usually as it relates to women. It would be interesting to trace this shift in public perception and breakdown, the shift from a knightly attribute to a female one, an illustration of heroism to one of weakness or absurdity.