Line 499 gives the name of a new character: Hunferth, or Unferth. He’s a noble in Hrothgar’s court, and he’s called a þȳle. There’s multiple uncertainty here, because his name is spelled “Hunferth” but it’s alliterated with vowels, as if it were “Unferth.” Then a “þȳle” (thee-lee) is either an orator or a jester. Some translators suggest that “Unferth” means “anti-peace,” but if it’s spelled with an H, it wouldn’t mean anything special. When Hunferth begins to speak, instead of “unlocking his word-hoard,” he “unbinds his battle-runes.” Is this meant to suggest that he’s a Woden priest, since runes were the special province of Odin/Woden? Is he a counselor or a jester, a priest or a clown?
But we don’t really need to resolve those conflicts to understand the scene. Unferth (I guess I’ll settle into the spelling most modern translators use) plays a specific role in developing Beowulf’s character, and he plays this role whether he’s a counselor or a jester. It’s his role to display for us Beowulf’s back story while also showing us his character, and it’s not against Hrothgar’s will for Beowulf’s story to be tested in public. Hrothgar wouldn’t do it himself, but Unferth can say anything.
It’s key to understand that there was an insult-trading ritual in Germanic society. When we see this ritual preserved in later Scots poems, it’s called “flyting.” In this kind of contest, it’s important that the audience already knows the truth value of whatever anyone says. You can’t win by lying. To illustrate how it works, in my book I suggest a mead-hall insult contest between Richard Nixon and Jack Kennedy, at the time when they were both running for President. I chose such an outdated match-up because it doesn’t depend on current fads and personalities.
In my sample flyting contest, Kennedy begins by insulting the cut of Nixon’s suit, suggesting it fits badly and has been mended. “Aren’t you used to buying anything new?” he asks. Nixon’s comeback begins, “I certainly didn’t grow up in the lap of luxury as you did. What were you doing while I was doing farm chores and helping my father run a store? Were you out playing tennis and having servants pick up after you? You didn’t even know the Great Depression happened, while I was studying law and living in a house without running water. The way you spend money, this country wouldn’t last long, since we don’t all have Daddy to bail us out!”
Kennedy responds, “It’s true that I grew up in a rich family, but I don’t vote for irresponsible spending. But I see you can’t hold your liquor very well, or you wouldn’t attack my father. I’d rather have my father helping me out in campaigns than what you’ve leaned on, a professional campaign manager who disgusts everyone with his cynical attitudes!” Nixon says yes, he depends on a professional, but then that man likes to say “Truth is the best weapon we can use.” “Maybe,” Nixon adds, “you’d like to tell the truth about your father’s attitude to Hitler? Wasn’t he for appeasement?”
Kennedy comes back, “There you go about my father again. What about me? I served in the Pacific on a PT boat…I was under fire while you were overseeing price controls in California.” Nixon replies, “I may have started out in the Office of Price Administration, that’s true, but I served in the Pacific. And unlike you, I didn’t have to deceive a medical board to do it!” While this sounds like a put-down, Kennedy wins by replying, “Now I know you’ve drunk too much. What’s shameful about concealing my illness and pain so that I could serve and do my duty?”
You see the pattern. They never say “You lie!” the way a modern insult-politician would. Each admits the truth of the charge, but turns it around so that it becomes praise for himself. Then he levels a charge of something shameful, and the pattern repeats. There’s a theme of “where were you when I was doing my duty?” It’s about how well someone can “spin” an apparently negative fact.
Unferth begins by contradicting Beowulf’s claim of superiority in his youth. “I heard,” he says, “that when you had a swimming contest against Breca, Prince of the Brondings, you lost.” Further, he says, it shows that Beowulf has a history of reckless boasting that will just get him and others into trouble. Beowulf doesn’t reply by saying it isn’t true, but he suggests Unferth is too drunk for good judgment. He retells the story of the race, but now he explains that he was attacked by sea monsters after he and Breca were separated by the waves. Breca reached shore first, but Beowulf was fighting for his life. He and the (dead) monsters washed up in the land of the Finns!
After he retells his story, Beowulf turns to Unferth. “Have you fought any monsters? I guess not. I’ve never heard a word about you doing anything heroic. Oh right, you killed your brother! Grendel would never have had a chance to do any mayhem if you were really as fierce as you like to think you are!” He concludes that soon Grendel will be here, and it will be time to test courage.
Unferth doesn’t reply. We should picture him looking deflated; he had heard this scuttlebutt about Breca and he hoped it would shame this rival. Beowulf comes out looking like a champion, and shames him instead. Unferth will enter the story later, still chastened.