Return After the Death of Grendel’s Mother

As Beowulf emerges from the water, dripping and covered with slime, the focus quickly shifts to the trophy head of Grendel.  Just how large was Grendel?  Although Beowulf was able to swim upwards with the head, it requires four normal men and two long poles to transport the head now.  This is a head the size of a boulder!  The Geats are able to make a most dramatic entrance, unlooked-for, dragging the head into the hall by the hair. 

Beowulf’s short speech summarizing the fight emphasizes the danger he was in, first, and then the finality of this victory.  After his fight with Grendel, his speech to Hrothgar had resembled an instant replay, describing the wrestling, the wound, and the pain he inflicted.  This second speech omits the details of the fight but tells about the swords, which is a point sure to interest everyone in the hall. Also, Beowulf, having been to the lair of the water-trolls, can now assure everyone that there are no more of them lurking about, no younger brothers or sisters.  Heorot can finally rest in peace, at least until the next human assault or raid.

The magical giant’s sword is again the focus of attention.  As Hrothgar examines the hilt, the narrative tells us more about it.  The hilt is decorated with snakey designs and fancy scrolls, but more than that, it has runes cut into it. 

Runes were ancient letters, modeled after the Roman alphabet, but they were also magic symbols.  To cut or carve runes was to cast a spell.  Owning the stick or weapon whereon runes had been cut meant owning the power of that magic. 

In this Christian-era poem, there is little use made of these magic runes (no incantations to the gods, no indication of what sort of spell) but we learn that they tell a story.  Runic writing could tell a story, although it was more often used for simple inscriptions.  The monks favored Latin script, but there are some poems in runic writing.  By Anglo-Saxon times, runes formed a full alphabet. 

The narrative of Beowulf envisions a sword with more than a “Dudda made me” inscription; although the owner’s name is included, the runes (or perhaps pictures) tell the story of the ancient struggle with evil, in the days of Genesis. This is one of the most colorful and successful fusions of old and new religious beliefs in the poem. 

In pagan times, the runes might have told about an ancient struggle between the god Tyr and a Frost Giant, or about the defeat of the gods in the last battle.  Runes were associated with Woden (Norse Odin), and were part of his magic spells. 

But in this Christian epic, the runes are brought into the service of Bible history.  Their magic is part of the magic of writing, as it connects us with the past; the ancient weapon’s writing is a direct testament of the times of pre-history.  Surely the audience of Beowulf felt the same thrill we might feel on seeing prehistoric cave paintings, or the original Declaration of Independence, or even the burnt, cracked manuscript of Beowulf itself. 

Writing connects us to the past by telling the forgotten story, and if we can see the actual writing itself, the connection is so much stronger.  This inscription tells about the ancient struggle with giants, the Christian version, and how “Frea,” the Lord, set out to subdue them.  In the Anglo-Saxon poem “Genesis,” in the passage dealing with the giants, the chosen word for “Lord” is the same word as the name of the pagan Norse god whose sign was the boar.  On the sword-hilt there is almost perfect synthesis of pagan and Christian belief.

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