I plan to discuss Cath Maige Tuired, in terms of other and the tension between salvation and destruction, later (if you want to read ahead) -- but we'll warm up with Beowulf and Grendel, I think, because almost everyone has already read Beowulf, read parts of it, seen one of the film adaptations, or at the very least is somewhat familiar with the tale.

DISCLAMER: I'm not an Anglo-Saxonist. There's a ton I'm sure I'm missing, because my grasp of Anglo-Saxon is, umm, inadequate.

From Resources for the Study of Beowulf Website:

"Beowulf is both the first English literary masterpiece and one of the earliest European epics written in the vernacular, or native language, instead of literary Latin. The story survives in one fragile manuscript copied by two scribes near the end of the 10th or the first quarter of the 11th century. Until quite recently, most scholars thought that this surprisingly complex and poignant poem was written in the 8th century or earlier, but Kevin Kiernan stirred up controversy in 1981 by asserting that the work was composed in the 11th century, and that the manuscript itself may have even been the author's working copy."

We're starting here, because it's one of our earliest English-language texts, and well worth puzzling through in the original, if you never have. Seeing the bones and fossils of language we still use is simply remarkable.




You can find one translation of Beowulf in hypertext, here. The introduction makes an excellent point, which I'll reiterate:

"Old English has a different kind of grammar from Modern. Old English is like Latin or Russian, or many other languages whose grammar is expressed by inflection: that is, affixes on a root word can stand in for function words like pronouns, so that a noun like "stow" will indicate its grammatical place in a sentence or clause by a series of endings: "... nis Þaet heoru stow!" (That is not a pleasant place!); or "He het þa þa stowe Dominus videt" (He named that place Dominus videt; or "on manegum stowum" (in many places). In an Old English sentence, especially in the poetry, syntax (the order of words) much more fluid than in Modern. Spelling will seem inconsistent, even random, in our terms; the alphabet contains some unfamiliar letters derived from runes."

Also well worth a look is this, from DigitalMedievalist. You can hear the first lines read aloud. Or from Michael Drout, podcasts! In Old English!
(God how I love the intertubes.)

And what a story this is, right? Think about it; Beowulf is perhaps the oldest English-language epic narrative we have, and the story still has legs: There's a brand new Beowulf movie currently in release, co-written by Neil Gaiman, and in spite of the simultaneous revulsion and fascination at the fact that they saw fit to cast Angelina Jolie as Grendel's mother -- and write in a make-out scene between Grendel's mom and Beowulf (what WERE they thinking?) -- how cool is that?

Enough background. Let's talk about the cool stuff -- let's talk about the story. There's an online version, here, we'll work from.

We're going to skip the boring prologue which is all mostly history and genealogy anyway, and go straight to Chapter one. 

Pardon my skepticism about a Meadhall full of ale-swilling, fur-clad, warrior-fellas having what sounds like a sort of Revival Meeting. That's what the text says, though, so thats where we start: Hrothgar, the wise and victorious ruler, builds Heorot, the noblest of meadhalls -- and starts collecting young kinsmen:

Þá wæs Hróðgáre herespéd gyfen		Then was to Hrothgar success in warcraft given,
wíges weorðmynd þæt him his winemágas	65	honour in war, so that his retainers
georne hýrdon oðð þæt séo geogoð gewéox		eagerly served him until the young war-band grew
magodriht micel· him on mód bearn		into a mighty battalion; it came into his mind
þæt healreced hátan wolde		that a hall-house, he wished to command,
medoærn micel men gewyrcean		a grand mead-hall, be built by men
þone yldo bearn aéfre gefrúnon	70	which the sons of men should hear of forever,
ond þaér on innan eall gedaélan		and there within share out all
geongum ond ealdum swylc him god sealde		to young and old, such as God gave him,
búton folcscare ond feorum gumena·		except the common land and the lives of men;
ða ic wíde gefrægn weorc gebannan		Then, I heard, widely was the work commissioned
manigre maégþe geond þisne middangeard·	75	from many peoples throughout this middle-earth,
folcstede frætwan. Him on fyrste gelomp		to furnish this hall of the folk. For him in time it came to pass,
aédre mid yldum þæt hit wearð ealgearo		early, through the men, that it was fully finished,
healærna maést· scóp him Heort naman		the best of royal halls; he named it Heorot,

Other is a dangerous thing to be. Those who are other offer an enormous threat to the established order; this is neatly illustrated by the introduction of Grendel in the text.  From the end of chapter one, where we meet Grendel:

Swá ðá drihtguman      dréamum lifdon		So the lord's men      lived in joys,
éadiglice      oð ðæt án ongan	100	happily,      until one began
fyrene fremman      féond on helle·		to execute atrocities,      a fiend in hell;
wæs se grimma gaést      Grendel háten		this ghastly demon was      named Grendel,
maére mearcstapa      sé þe móras héold		infamous stalker in the marches,      he who held the moors,
fen ond fæsten·      fífelcynnes eard		fen and desolate strong-hold;      the land of marsh-monsters,
wonsaélí wer      weardode hwíle	105	the wretched creature      ruled for a time
siþðan him scyppend      forscrifen hæfde		since him the Creator      had condemned
in Caines cynne      þone cwealm gewræc		with the kin of Cain;      that killing avenged
éce drihten      þæs þe hé Ábel slóg·		the eternal Lord,      in which he slew Abel;
ne gefeah hé þaére faéhðe      ac hé hine feor forwræc		this feud he did not enjoy,      for He drove him far away,
metod for þý máne      mancynne fram·	110	the Ruler, for this crime,      from mankind;
þanon untýdras      ealle onwócon		thence unspeakable offspring      all awoke:
eotenas ond ylfe      ond orcnéäs		ogres and elves      and spirits from the underworld;
swylce gígantas      þá wið gode wunnon		also giants,      who strove with God
lange þráge·      hé him ðæs léan forgeald.		for an interminable season;      He gave them their reward for that.

We're given a highly-charged picture of Grendel as a representative of other, in his introduction: He's a descendant of Cain, the original outcast. That's nearly as other as other can be. Grendel is physically outside the community (which has recently known a good bit of strife, warfare, which the reader is reminded of with the reference to Hrothgar's original hall burned, probably by a feuding relative); he's kin to Cain who was cast out by God and family for fratricide, (read pagan -- giant pagan); and Grendel is already crabby with the inhabitants of Heorot because they party so loud, singing about Genesis (which not-so-accidentally contains the story of Cain and Abel) and such. We're told he envies and hates them for their happiness. Poor Grendel. He's alienated from the compatriots of Heorot, alienated from God, and quite literally cast out into the dark and the wilderness.

Other is dangerous to everyone else, and dangerous to the poor soul judged to be other -- there's this strange tension, too, though; the outsider quite often brings salvation, as well.

It takes Beowulf - who is also from away - to save Heorot from the Grendel the monster, "maére mearcstapa."

Back with more on our guy Beowulf, in a bit.