xxxAs a work of literature, Beowulf is remarkable in its complexity. The poem presents a theological critique of the the pagan world, but it is not a sermon. The poem implies a vision of rightful kingship, but it is not a treatise. The poem presents stunningly realistic descriptions of ships and weaponry, but it is not a history. Nor is this superbly balanced monster story merely a good folktale. Nor is Beowulf himself, "the strongest man who ever lived in the days of this world," merely a Nordic Heracles.
xxxHowever, if Beowulf is none of these, that is because in a sense, the poem is all of these. "Bizarrely complex" might be the complaint of an overwhelmed reader. A better characterization might be "woven" or "interlaced." If we agree that interlace is an apt metaphor for the narrative structure in this poem, we do not necessarily agree that the poet imitated the visual art form so characteristic of the Anglo-Saxon era. It may be that both literary and visual forms of interlace spring from a shared culture focused on the transitoriness of this "middle earth," a culture that self-consciously lived in the intersection of this world with the world beyond. Whether or not the typical Anglo-Saxon artisan possessed a consciousness fixed by this belief in the intersection of worlds, the Beowulf poet certainly did. The poem's interlace design continually reflects and consciously represents a deep awareness of the mysterious, multi-layered aspects of human experience. Beowulf functions on many levels, through many perspectives, in many worlds simultaneously.
When orally presented, this intersection of worlds creates a powerful contrapuntal effect. The poem creates plot through folkloric elements, which speak to the story world of Anglo-Saxon culture; it enhances meaning through symbolic elements, which open to the dream world of the unconscious; it injects realism through historical elements, especially the world of power relations fixed in time; it reveals character through psychological elements, which disclose the inner world of emotions; it develops character through dramatic elements, the surface of action in the temporal world; and it provokes engagement through somatic elements, which represent the life of the body, the carnal ground of human experience.
xxxOf all this intertwining of experience and perception, most remarkable is the conflation of pagan elements (which magnify heroic culture) with Christian elements (which deflate heroic culture). Obviously, the poem's use of pagan and Christian elements represents an opposition of worlds: the laws of brute survival that derive from "this world" differ radically from the eternal laws of righteousness and mercy that derive from "the next." This conflation of pagan and Christian elements is remarkable enough. Added to that accomplishment is the artistic representation of the other dimension of experience, the eternal landscape of Time, through repeated, and often disturbing, juxtapositions of present, future, and past.

An analysis of the interplay between these multiple worlds is vital to any interpretive effort. To illustrate the poem's ability to convey multiple realities, the following outline presents a multi-layered perspective on the three characters who dominate the first section of the poem (Grendel, Hrothgar, and Beowulf). The approach taken here does not strive to be encyclopedic, but rather seeks to open a window into the artistry of the poem, to illustrate ways in which a congruent interpretation emerges when these seemingly conflicting worlds are accounted for.

Conclusion
Beowulf is massive in its verbal and structural complexity, and much of its artistry demands to be understood off the page. This outline leaves more than half the poem untouched, but the first episode foreshadows all that is to come. The historical question about authorship has not been solved, either. But it is hoped that this reading at least confirms the possibility that Beowulf was composed in response to the Viking maelstrom. The historical puzzle is certainly fascinating. But even if we agree that the poem presents the “monstrous” face of Dane marauders in Grendel, his mother, and the dragon, the overriding purpose of the poem is literary, not political. Beowulf is not restrictively a critique of an “enemy” nation. Rather, like a reverse “Good Samaritan” parable, the poem uses the evil habits of an “out caste” nation to turn a light inward, to expose the raw vulnerabilities of the human soul.
The world of Beowulf speaks to us today. The Vikings, with their dragon symbol of terror, are not so different from gangs in our cities, who choose emblems of violence to proclaim their angry desperation. The world still lives in fawning obeisance to symbols of power. And despite the sacred law, “Blessed are the meek,” the earthly law is still “Blessed are the mighty.” In a world still dominated by men, women are too often deluded in their cultural role of “peaceweaver,” believing that hopeful words will make it so. And far too many who strive for greatness are forever “Beowulf,” trapped in an endless, and ultimately perilous, journey of the soul -- not the least, the leaders of our world, who too rarely understand the subtle but profound difference between the desire to “prove oneself” and the desire to serve.
The world of Beowulf is pagan; the voice of the poet is Christian. In that remarkable space breathes the poem. This interpretation offers an alternative to the modern assessment that Beowulf sustains an unresolved ambiguity of purpose -- now praising kings, now condemning. The poem works, not through ambiguity, but through irony. There is genius in the evocation of an “out-caste” pagan world sustained through the voice of a Christian poet. To put that dynamic in modern literary terms, it is not unlike that created by Flannery O’Connor, whose “out-caste” world of freaks ironically exposes the complacency of a post-Christian age that “believes in nothing.” If we agree that Beowulf is not a partially realized synthesis of pagan and Christian values; we must also agree that it is not a sermon, allegory, or treatise either. The engine of this poem is an unflinching, passionate theology. But in its psychological acuity, symbolic resonance, and dramatic realism, Beowulf dazzles as a literary achievement.

Grendel
folklore elements
xxxGrendel is a superb monster with the grotesque appeal of a Frankenstein. Because he is more man than monster, the horror of his savagery creates a high level of identification. The poem's ability to manipulate folkloric elements is especially evident when we imagine the context of its telling: the audience might well have listened to the story of a monster attacking a mead hall at night, while sitting in a mead hall at night. The poet shows a masterful ability to enthrall the audience by saying, "BOO!" But creating a good scare is not the poet's primary purpose. The poet uses Grendel to galvanize the audience's attention in order to advance to more thoughtful and complex considerations. A "jump tale" dynamic exists in the Grendel section, whereas later, the poet relies on subtle verbal resonances to build a sense of foreboding toward Grendel's mother and the dragon.

symbolic elements
xxxThe poet builds meaning through the symbol of "the hand." Grendel's hand takes life. His hand descends like the darkness of death. Grendel's steely death-wielding hand is associated with the armed battle-hand of warriors. And his bloody hand is contrasted with the bountiful hand of the ring giver and with the willing hands of men and women who adorn Heorot after the battle. But the power of Grendel's hand is limited (just as, compared to the power of God, the power of the ring giver's hand or the power of Beowulf's hand is limited). xxxNotably, Beowulf does not rip off Grendel's hand or crush Grendel's hand, but Grendel horribly rips his own body away from his own hand. Beowulf never administers a throttle or crushing death hug; he merely holds on. As the monster frantically tries to pull away, we are told that "Beowulf rose to his feet. The great hero moved with him."
xxxAmazingly, monster and hero are locked in nothing more vicious than a grip. But Beowulf's "holding hand" is the ontological opposite of Grendel's ripping hand. A human being would not be so horrifed at being held, but Grendel is. The monster knows that "his body cannot keep life as long as Beowulf has him in hand." Rather than counter-attack with his other hand, Grendel focuses all his will in achieving escape. He "heaves in desperate rage, wanting to go elsewhere, anywhere at all except the great hall Heorot, into deep marshes, into the fen." The loneliness of Hell, its solitary, solipsistic essence, is revealed in the fact that Grendel's hand cannot bear even the grasp of another's.
xxxGrendel's monumental desperation to escape is so great, in fact, that the monster finally destroys himself. As Beowulf holds fast, the "captive of Hell" sings his hate song. Finally, there is resolution: Grendel rips himself away.
xxxIn symbolic terms, this self destruction reveals an important Christian principle governing the poem: the insufficiency of a life of sin and evil, defined as that which is apart from God. The dynamic of Grendel destroying his own life is mirrored again in the death of Grendel's mother by her own sword; and is echoed again in the mutual deaths of Beowulf and the dragon, both mirrors of the armored, marauding, gold-hoarding face of Viking culture. The serpent eats its tail. In all these symbolic junctures, evil is its own undoing.

historical elements
xxxThe linkage of kinship with Cain takes on a quasi-historical cast with the explanation that Cain is also the progenitor of trolls, elves, and monsters. This manufactured lineage adds an illusion of realism. Even more importantly, it links the Nordic monster tradition with the Christian world view. Grendel, the child of Cain, is a synthesis of bogeyman and the Christian devil. As such, this imaginative lineage spawns a new literary creature. Nordic and Greek mythologies could generate an array of interesting monsters based on the physically grotesque, but in Grendel the poet creates a new kind of horror: the idea of evil as a demonic force incarnate in the flesh. As the popular modern author Stephen King has demonstrated, evil has the capacity to terrify on a deeper level than even the physically grotesque. Evil is far more intimate than physical horror because the seed of evil exists within. Grendel is more terrifying than creatures from other mythologies because Grendel's demonic horror takes the human capacity for envy to its ultimate conclusion.

psychological elements
xxxThe narrator creates sympathy for Grendel through the archetype of the "outcast." All people have shared in this outcast experience, a feeling of rejection or "not belonging," and thus all people can experience sympathy with the monster. Through this identification, the artist builds sympathy with Grendel, "the rover of borders," who is forever locked outside the ring of mirth. We identify with Grendel to a lesser extent, but for the same reasons we identify with Satan in Paradise Lost. Through the archetype of outcast, the poem leads us to acknowledge our own capacity for envy. And this understanding derives from a Christian world view which accomodates both horror at Grendel's actions and a broad-minded sympathy concerning his damnation.

dramatic elements
xxxThe poet reveals psychological states through narrative passages, but he develops character through the world of the moment: the world of action and speech.
The poet frames dramatic moments through brief events. The most obvious, in the case of Grendel, occur during the attack and battle scenes. However, the poem is able to convey character in action through more subtle dramatic moments. One example occurs when Grendel listens to the sound of joy in the hall: "All day the creature heard the joyful sounds of the hall, the sound of the harp, the song of the minstrel. . . ." The storyteller does not have to narrate the psychological state of the monster, but rather uses the dramatic action of listening to convey the creature's tortured loneliness.
somatic
xxxThe horror of Grendel's savagery is brought home in the second attack scene. "Grendel seized the warrior. Gutted him sleeping! Ripped him apart! Drank blood from the veins! Tore at gobbets of flesh. . . gorged himself. In hardly a moment, the man was consumed entirely. Even hands and feet." Grendel's horror is absolutely true to the demands of the story. This is not (in Hollywood fashion) gore for the sake of gore. Once the poet galvanizes our attention, he moves on: Depictions of Grendel's savagery are far more grotesque than depictions of the savagery of Grendel's mother or of the dragon. The poet's intent is to galvanize the unconscious, unlettered mind with a picture of evil in its most tangible form. Once the poet provokes somatic engagement with Grendel, intense somatic references are applied more to the actions of men (the Finnsburh episode, the death of Ongentheow) than to monsters. That shift, of course, provokes a consideration of the "monstrous" face of heroic culture. The poet uses gore for a larger artistic purpose, not as an end in itself.
pagan
xxxThis interpretation sees Grendel as the image of the Danes he attacks. Like a Viking, Grendel is a marauder; he comes in the night; he lurks in a mere (Viking ships were often harbored in hard-to-reach swampy areas); he deals without mercy or remorse; "grieves not at all for his wicked deeds." And, like those Scandinavian marauders who coveted the greener pastures of Europe, Grendel is motivated by envy. Most notably (given the history of Dane incursions) Grendel attacks year after year, "committing crimes in many seasons." His is a plague of violence. Like the Danes he attacks, Grendel "wanted no peace" with Hrothgar, "to settle it by payment, ward off the killing."
xxxFor Grendel to hold sway over a Danish mead hall in this manner, for a Danish king to be reduced to helplessness would have provided some emotional satisfaction to an audience all too familiar with Dane invaders. However, the irony implicit in Grendel's attack on a Danish hall may be missed by a modern audience, caught up in the grandeur of Heorot. Hrothgar, a "good" king of the Danes, builds a gold-roofed mead hall "larger than the children of men had ever heard of." The work is "laid on many nations, wide through this middle earth." A modern audience may admire Heorot, even while seeing in it shades of Babel. But Anglo-Saxon survivors of Viking raiders would have had a different response. They would regard Hrothgar's lavish mead hall with the same rueful admiration as ancient Hebrews would regard pyramids.
xxxIn theological terms, the sins of the father are visited on the sons. Just as Grendel is cursed to repeat the spiritual errors of his father, Cain, Hrothgar is cursed with the spiritual errors of his own progenitor, Scyld Scefing. We are told from the outset, Scyld Scefing was a "good" king -- a "good" Danish king, that is -- a marauder who "prospered until all those across the whale road had to obey him, pay him tribute." Even more specifically, we are told that Hrothgar's grandfather "stole mead benches from enemy bands, terrified their nobles." So it is that Grendel attacks the Danes' mead hall, terrifies the Danish nobles. In primitive psychological terms, the Danes get a taste of their own medicine. In the words of the storyteller, "What goes around, comes around."

Christian elements
xxxThe Christian world view defines thepoem, not because the poet flattens the poem to allegory, sermon, or treatise, but because the Christian world view transmutes all the other worlds of experience. Grendel is the child of Cain, a brother-murderer condemned by God. The image of brother murderer achieves special potency because Anglo Saxons, with their Continental lineage, would most definitely view Viking maruaders as "kin"; hence, as brother murderers.
xxxWhen this link is emphasized, Grendel, as "kin of Cain" becomes the monstrous face of the marauding culture that Dane invaders exemplified for their Anglo-Saxon victims. By linking Grendel with Cain, the poet explicitly condemns Viking marauders -- and implicitly condemns all marauders, who by definition are also "kin of Cain." This pattern continues through Beowulf as each monster depicts another face on heroic Viking culture: the evil of the marauder; the code of revenge; and the terrifying image of night burner and gold hoarder.
Yet, Grendel is not flatly evil. Just as the Christian world view transmutes a bogey man into the evil face of marauding cultures, that view transmutes psychological identification with the outcast into Christian sympathy for the damned. The sympathy extended to Grendel is emblematic of the sympathy extended from the Christian world toward those who lived in the unconverted pagan world -- a sympathy that prompted a missionary attitude even toward pagan attackers. This large-minded Christian view informed the decision by Alfred the Great, who spent a lifetime defending his kingdom from Danish marauders, to sponsor the conversion of his enemy, the Danish warlord Guthrum, rather than kill him. In the poem, the psychological identification with Grendel as outcast leads to a large-minded Christian sympathy, which no pagan bogeyman or Cyclops ever received!

Hrothgar
Without justice, what are kingdoms but great robberies? For what are robberies themselves, but little kingdoms? The band is made of men; it is ruled by the authority of a prince, knit together by the pact of confederacy; the booty is divided by agreement. If this evil increases to such a degree that it holds places, fixes abodes, takes possession of cities, and subdues peoples, it assumes the name of "kingdom," not by the removal of covetousness but by the addition of impunity. Indeed, that was an apt and true reply given to Alexander the Great by a pirate who had been seized. When the king asked the man what he meant by keeping hostile possession of the sea, the pirate answered: "I mean the same as you, who seize the whole earth. But because I do it with a petty ship, I am called a robber. While you, who do it with a great fleet, are styled emporer."
xxxxxx—Augustine, The City of God, Chapter IV

xxxConventional readings governed by a heroic sensibility interpret the poem at least partly as affirmation of Hrothgar, as a king and a man -- and by extension, as affirmation of the noble aspects of warrior cultures. But an alternative, more Augustinian reading is possible. If a poet can make us feel pity for a monster, how much more so for a man? The poet provokes outrage and horror at Grendel, and counter-balances that outrage with pity. In the depiction of Hrothgar, the reverse is true. The poet actively provokes pity for the victim, counter-balancing that pity with spare reminders that Hrothgar is himself a marauder too: a king who achieved "great glory in warfare, so that his men gladly obeyed him," a king "whose sword play was never less than famous -- than when the dead were falling."
xxxThe idea that a Christian poet familiar with Viking invaders could sympathetically depict a Danish king has struck many readers as impossible, even absurd. An alternative reading, however, suggests that pity for Hrothgar might speak very well to an audience who identified their Danish attackers as "kin," and who personally understood the despair of the victim. In any case, such an audience would not need to be reminded overmuch of the "monstrous" behavior of Dane marauders. If we accept that the poet's vision was informed by a broad Christian sympathy, it is not surprising that the emphasis is on sympathy for the spiritually ignorant Hrothgar.
xxxIn artistic terms, the refusal to flatten Hrothgar to mere villain preserves his humanity and his value as a character. In theological terms, the Christian view extends humanity to the enemy. If we agree that Beowulf may have been written in response to the Viking maelstrom, then the humanity realized in the poem is a remarkable achievement. For an Anglo-Saxon poet to invoke sympathy for a Danish king might be roughly analagous to a survivor of the German blitzkrieg to invoke sympathy for a Nazi stormtrooper. But the Christian view also understands that no nation has a monopoly on avarice. Thus, a critique of Scandinavian warrior culture is not mere condemnation of "the other" nation, but would be heard as an exemplum critiquing all nations. In the Augustinian view, any nation built on war and pillage, no matter how admirable its "heroic" virtues, is manifestly evil.
xxxOf course, this interpretation is helped by a willingness to see, not just through the lens of story, but also through the lens of history. To fully grasp the proposed understanding of Hrothgar, a modern audience must engage in an act of historical, as well as literary imagination -- to hear the story, say, as if in the time of Alfred the Great. The poem is commissioned and performed, not for clerics, but for the people. The audience does not know that faith will be put to the supreme test in years of Viking invasions to come. What is known is that the kingdom has been preserved through the mercy of God. Alfred himself, who traced his maternal lineage to Danish ancestors, would appreciate the depiction of a Danish king both as a marauder and as a ruler who is tragically cursed by a manifestation of his own spiritual ignorance.
xxxWhether or not a modern reader agrees to engage in this imaginative act, one thing is clear: the poet spends an abundance of energy, the bulk of Hrothgar's characterizations, in an effort to build sympathy for the victim of a merciless marauder, while at the same time unequivocally depicting Hrothgar himself as a marauding war lord, who builds his kingdom by pillaging other nations.

folklore elements
xxxThe poem creates sympathy for Hrogthgar through the folkloric motif of the victim. Hrothgar is the king besieged, a king wounded by Grendel's attacks. As a "wounded" king, Hrothgar's helplessness creates the possibility for salvation from a knightly image of his better self. The dynamic is set, through Hrothgar's suffering, for Beowulf's entrance as hero.
symbolic
xxxThe poem also builds sympathy for Hrothgar on the symbolic level. Hrothgar is a supremely generous sovereign. After Heorot is built, the poet tells us: "Nor did Hrothgar forget his promise to the people. At the feast he gave out rings, treasure." This "wine hall, house of gold giving, a joy to men" is conflated in its most positive aspects with the church itself -- a conflation partly achieved through the mystique of Hrothgar as "ring giver." The references to Hrothgar as ring giver convey something more than generosity: a spiritual, almost priestly dimension, that goes beyond that of mere treasure dispenser. In pagan society, the ring was a symbol of kinship -- an image of completeness, enclosure. The symbol was adopted in the Christian marriage ceremony, which celebrates the new kinship of two previously unrelated people. Even a modern audience can sense the relationship between "ring giving" and "kinship ties." This interpretation imagines that an oral storyteller would recreate the ritual of ring giving in the moment when Hrothgar blesses Beowulf after the battle with Grendel. Hrothgar might give Beowulf a ring from his own hand as he says: "Now, Beowulf, best of men, in my heart I will love you like a son. Keep well this new kinship."
xxxHowever the ritual of ring giving is imagined, there is no doubt that Hrothgar's openhanded generosity to his followers wins our sympathy. Further, there is no doubt that pagan culture depended on bestowals of treasure to seal the loyalty of a band of men. In the first passages of Beowulf, the poet speaks to this ethic: "So ought a man in his father's household treasure up the future by his goods and goodness, by splendid bestowals, so that later in life his chosen men stand by him in turn, serve him when war comes. By such generosity, any man prospers." The irony, of course, is that the principle of winning loyalty through treasure fails again and again. For all of Hrothgar's generosity, Heorot will be ruined, "licked by fire flames," and Hrothgar's own son murdered "when the Danish princes betray each other." Hrothgar is tragically misguided to believe that loyalty can be won through gifts. Gifts will temporarily sway the heart, but genuine loyalty and love cannot be bought.
historical
xxxIn Beowulf, the connection between family and history is determinative. In the modern world, we put great stock in the "self-made" individual. The ancients saw the individual quite differently. In the ancient world, it's not who the individual is that counts, it's who his father was, or his grandfather. Theirs is a world that neither forgives nor forgets, a world in which men may be enmeshed in a feud created many generations earlier. Fate is very often fixed by the past; time is not progression, but a crushing wheel. Retaliation follows retaliation. Nothing changes. Circularity is writ large in a poem that begins and ends with a funeral.
xxxThe poet builds our sympathy for Hrothgar by showing us ways in which he is trapped by events beyond his control. Scyld Scefing was a mead-hall attacking marauder; Hrothgar's own mead hall is attacked. This symbolic circularity is amplified even more directly through the doom predicted for all that Hrothgar has wrought: his son will be murdered; his great hall will be destroyed. Hrothgar gives his daughter as a peace weaver to "settle his share of killings and feud." Beowulf predicts the hopeless outcome: when "deadly hate wells up. . . love for the peace weaver will cool." Heorot will be destroyed, and the feud will continue to the next generation. The eternal dimension of time reveals that for all Hrothgar's grandeur, for all his munificence, and for all his new-found hope after Beowulf's victory, his world is doomed.

psychological elements
xxxHelplessness wins sympathy. Hrothgar is a proud old man, but he is utterly helpless. He is the victim of demonic savagery, of events set in motion before his birth, of his own spiritual ignorance. The poet frames our vision of the man with his own grief. Our sympathy is initially forced when we see Hrothgar on the morning after Grendel's attack: "Hrothgar, so long their strong king, so long their good king, sat silent in grief." The last we see of him is as a broken old man, weeping helplessly at Beowulf's departure.

dramatic elements
xxxHrothgar has several fine dramatic moments. But these moments always reveal a contradiction. Hrothgar's speech to Beowulf on the eve of battle is full of manly pride, but there is something less than manly about his retreat to the queen's chambers. Hrothgar swears to Beowulf that he will love him "like a son," but he is quickly dissuaded from actual investiture by his queen. Finally, his admonitory speech about arrogance is full of much wisdom, but Hrothgar is not. A man who builds a "mead hall larger than the children of men had ever heard of" hardly has ground to talk about the dangers of pride. In fact, arrogance is in the voice of every Dane who greets Beowulf -- from the watchman, to the haughty noble in the hall, to Unferth who rudely mocks the Geat.
xxxThese observations are not meant to suggest that Hrothgar is hypocritical, only that he is blind to the truth. There is another reality behind all that seems. Hrothgar has sworn that he will love Beowulf as a son. But his words are as ephemeral as air. This is a hall filled with "much noise," a place that harbors the seeds of treachery, a place where "friendship is said aloud in words." Arguing against investiture of Beowulf as heir, Wealtheow says: "Give to the Geats your kind words . . . . But leave to your sons the land of the Danes." Wealtheow's vulnerability is foreshadowed in Hildeburh's tragedy and in the revelation that Hrothulf, a man who sits "peacefully" beside Hrothgar, will destroy the kingdom. Wealtheow ironically praises the future traitor, assuring Hrothgar that his treacherous nephew will "keep all well if you should leave this world before him." The poet complements this irony in a statement dripping with sarcasm: "The hall was filled with many good friends. The time had not yet come when the Danish princes would betray each other."
xxxGiven the knowlege that this shining hall world is not all that it seems, we can approach Hrothgar's admonitory speech more skeptically. Hrothgar's ordeal with Grendel has truly humbled him: the king speaks knowingly of the vicissitudes of fortune. And he has been humbled by Beowulf's achievement; he has met the "better man." Hrothgar adores his young savior; his gift giving is so extremely generous that it borders on relinquishment. He gives his most prized possessions: his gold-plated war armor, his fabulously crafted war sword, his own jewel-studded war saddle. (Indeed, the gift-giving scene after the second fight is anti-climactic: Hrothgar has given his best already). Hrothgar is admirable for his generosity, but he is still deluded by the values of the pagan world he inhabits. He is ever the marauder, who lays his weapons before Beowulf and bids the young warrior, "Use them well." His efforts at peace weaving will prove disastrous. And despite oaths to the contrary, no amount of gold-giving will win the loyalty required to protect his kingdom.

somatic elements
The poet uses the somatic level to heighten sympathy for Hrothgar. Hrothgar's aging body creates a physical identification with the Danish king. The decline of age is an inevitable and painful aspect of the human condition. But in a warrior society, age and decline are supremely perilous. Hrothgar is as helpless and as blind to the realities of his world as a King Lear. And he is nearly as pitiable.
pagan
xxxThe poem presents a fully detailed portrait of a Scandinavian war lord. Hrothgar is all the things a "good" pagan king should be. His role as bloody marauder exists "off scene." The emphasis is on his role as lord of home and hearth, on the values that guide him. He believes that generosity will bind the loyalty of his men; and he places his trust in the bonds of kinship and peaceweaving.

Christian elements
xxxAs with Grendel, the Christian viewpoint transmutes all other perspectives into one binding vision. Hrothgar is a "wounded" king who believes himself saved by Beowulf, but Beowulf's role as "savior" can never fully redeem him. Hrothgar is doomed both by the action of fate and by his own ignorance.
xxxThe poem opens with the funeral of Hrothgar's progenitor for the express purpose of revealing the relationship of past to present. The story of Grendel's father is told in Genesis. But the funeral of Scyld Scefing is the genesis of Hrothgar's story: It reveals Hrothgar's patrimony and gives a foretaste of all that is to come. We see the grandeur of Viking culture, the cult of weaponry, and the spoils of marauding warfare. Most importantly, we see a people doomed by entrapment in the laws of "this world" -- a people who live without Christian dispensation. Scyld Scefing is a terrifying marauder, but like Grendel he receives a broad Christian sympathy. The poet describes his mourning warriors: "Sad was their spirit. Mournful their mind. Men cannot truthfully say who received that cargo -- neither counselors in the hall, nor warriors under the sky."
xxxThe opening scene also sets up the future -- a future that pagans would define as "fate" and Christians would call "divine retribution." In the Biblical view, the sins of the father are visited on the sons. So it is that the funeral for a mead-hall marauder is followed by Grendel's marauding attack on a mead hall. Hrothgar is plagued by his inheritance: a manifestation of the evil spawned by Scyld Scefing, the first in a "glorious" line of Danish kings who prospered by terrifying other nations. In this way the poet illuminates the circular motion of history. Just as Grendel is doomed by his progenitor, Hrothgar is doomed by his.
xxxHrothgar is not merely an inheritor of sin, however; he is also a participant. The Christian view pierces the grand veneer of the great hall. There really is "something rotten" in this Denmark too! Hrothgar's self-serving beliefs blind him to the sin of his own culture and doom him to repeat the cycle. Deluded by his beliefs, the king imagines that Beowulf's strength, and peace-weaving, and gift giving will rescue his kingdom from doom. We pity him for that error. But an Augustinian reading would balance sympathy with an insistence that Hrothgar, like the proverbial emporer, is not so "good" as he seems. Hrothgar is the ultimate Godfather: elegant, charming, and generous. But his ring-giving hand is as bloody as Grendel's; his manners are as charming as any opportunist’s; and his generosity is the largesse of a pirate, a thug dispensing loot to his henchmen.

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Beowulf
xxxIn Hrothgar and Grendel, the poet presents a richly textured but static characterization. Not so with the towering man of the Geats. In Beowulf's character, the poem reveals the personality in transition: from youth to age, from thane to king, from hero to anti-hero. Most of the transition occurs after the fight with Grendel (and this outline will restrict its focus as much as possible to the first section). However, the poet creates a foreshadowing of the outcome of Beowulf's life in the first episode of the tale.

folklore elements
xxxAs folklore, Beowulf is probably linked with an older Nordic story that also figures in the Grettis Saga. But Beowulf is not merely a "strong bear "of a man. He carries other folklore attributes as well. When he removes his sword to make his fight with Grendel "fair" (never knowing that this is one monster no sword can touch!), his character reflects the archetype of the fortunate fool. When he seizes the sword from the cave wall to meet Grendel's attacking mother, he is as clever and quick as Hansel shoving the witch into her own oven.
Most obviously, Beowulf is depicted as knight hero in his fight with Grendel and Grendel's mother. He comes to Heorot on a mission to assist a victim, to protect someone weaker than himself, someone other than himself. To the extent that a "defender of the weak" projects a Christian sensibility, Beowulf represents an earlier version of other more famous, more explicitly Christian knights.
xxxBeowulf, "the strongest man who ever lived in the days of this world," also has something of Heracles in him. There are good arguments against classical influence, so this folkloric parallel is puzzling. But there is no doubt that Beowulf, like Heracles, defines himself by strength. This trust in personal virtue is a peculiarly Greek motif, the seed of hubris. At the very least we can say that, in contrast to the Christian knight, Beowulf does not serve God through his strength, but rather believes that he is favored by God because of his strength. Like Daniel in the lion's den, Beowulf faces a demonic opponent unarmed and alone. Unlike the prophet, Beowulf does not see himself as an actor through which God works. He does not use his victory to sing unceasing praises to God. Rather, we are told after the battle: "Beowulf was proud of his courage and his brave night's work."
xxxFolklore presents the story world of survival: Jack tricks the giant, Beauty transforms the Beast, the Fool of the World inherits the kingdom. Beowulf conforms to the folkloric paradigm by defeating Grendel and his mother. Mythology, however, speaks to the ineluctable mysteries of existence, mysteries that transcend survival. The slain king is emblematic of a mythic, rather than folkloric dimension. So it is that Beowulf, in his last battle, steps beyond the borders of folkloric hero into the realm of mythology. As myth, Beowulf’s suffering leads to a contemplation of man's mysterious existence -- as does the living death of Prometheus or the crucifixion of Christ. In this regard his death is most like the apocalyptic defeat of Thor against the cosmic serpent wrapped around the World-Tree Yggdrasill.

symbolic elements
xxxAn important symbolic element associated with Beowulf and his men is armor. The depictions of armor are both vivid and constant. Beowulf and his men take care to stow their armor. Their landing on Danish shores is announced through clanking mail shirts and glinting shields. Beowulf's armor is splendid, not that of "a mere retainer." And Beowulf's men march to Heorot with mail shirts gleaming, each chain ring in their war shirts "singing" as they march to the hall.
With all the depictions of weaponry, the audience has reason to expect that Beowulf's armor will play a glorious role in some contest. But Beowulf is never to enjoy the use of his sword; not in the fight with Grendel, Grendel's mother, or the dragon. Beowulf's chain shirt saves him from being ripped apart as he is dragged down to the mere cave. But the sword he brings is useless. Weapons fail the hero. Though Beowulf believes that he succeeds through his strength and courage, the poet shows us otherwise. Beowulf succeeds only when God works through him. Just as the poet uses the tragedies of Hildeburh and Freawaru to illustrate "the small measure of peaceweaving," we might say that the poet uses failed weaponry to show the "small measure" of man's might.
xxxWeapons are circumscribed by God’s will; they are also associated with gold lust and violence. The poet uses the gift-giving scene to inflate the grandeur of weaponry (albeit with an echo of Scyld Scefing's gloomy funeral in the "golden standard" given to Beowulf). But the poet emphatically links golden armor with bloody savagery in the Finnsburh digression. There we see the true purpose of armor: the killing of loved ones. Hildeburh mourns the deaths of her son and brother "under skies where she had known her greatest joy." The horror is brought to a somatic level in the funeral scene. Beowulf has just received "gold-encrusted" armor. Only now, we are forced to see "the blood-coated chain shirts, the gilded helmets, the sheen of gold and gore all mingled."
xxxGold is associated with gore because gold, like weaponry, is also a symbol of raw power. Beowulf is corrupted by these seductions later in the poem. The poet speaks to the seductive power of treasure in the dragon's ring hoard, for which Beowulf has sacrificed his life and his kingdom: "Helmets lay heaped, old and rusted, and scores of arm rings skillfully twisted. How easily jewels, gold in the earth, can overcome anyone, hide it who will -- heed it who can!"
xxxAfter the gift-giving scene, the poet beats the drum ever more emphatically: weaponry has justification for defense, and it may (like the sword of Grendel’s mother) provide a force through which God works; but its grandeur is always a temptation, a source of corruption. At its best, the golden sword is a symbol of the kingly guardian of a people; at its worst, it is an instrument of avarice, of envy. Its harvest is always sorrow. In this sense the poem is a parable about evil: The poet excites both our admiration for golden weaponry and our horror at Grendel's savagery, only to show us that the marauder’s battle hand, for all its apparent glory, is simply man's version of the monster's bloody spiked hand.

historical elements
xxxAlthough Beowulf is almost certainly a hero created entirely from various folk traditions, he is given historical amplitude through his link with Hygelac. Even more importantly, the link with Hygelac seals the transition that moves Beowulf from hero to anti-hero. In the account of Gregory of Tours, there can be no doubt that Beowulf's beloved Hygelac is a bloody marauder like the Danes. Indeed, Gregory calls Hygelac a "king of the Danes." The account of Hygelac's raid on the Christian king, Theuderic, is brief but explicit:

"The Danes sent a fleet under their King Hygelac and invaded Gaul from the sea. They came ashore, laid waste one of the regions ruled by Theuderic and captured some of the inhabitants. They loaded their ships with what they had stolen and the men they had seized, and then they set sail for home."

Hygelac makes the disastrous decision to wait behind. "When Theuderic heard that his land had been invaded by foreigners. . . he sent a powerful army. . . . The Danish king was killed, the enemy fleet was beaten in a naval battle and all the booty was brought back on shore once more."
xxxBeowulf is thane to a man described in his own time as a "Danish" marauder, a precursor of the marauders known in Alfred's time as Vikings. This connection links Beowulf with marauding culture, and with the Viking image of dragon later in the text -- a linkage played out through the mutual destruction of Beowulf and the dragon. Just as interesting, Gregory's historical account sets the scene for another of the poet's fabulous inventions. Because the fleet is destroyed, Beowulf must swim back to his homeland.

psychological elements
xxxThis interpretation agrees with Margaret Goldsmith's assessment (see Literary Resources) that the poem depicts Beowulf's slow corruption, his spiritual vulnerability. However, this interpretation rejects the view that Beowulf is an allegorical figure for Christ or Adam. Just as there are historical references, there are Christological references. Yet these references serve a symbolic purpose, not an allegorical one. Even as the poem amplifies the symbolic and historical presence of Beowulf, the psychological dimension ensures that Beowulf is no mere symbol. He is a human being with very believable motives. From a literary perspective, what is most remarkable about Beowulf is simply that Beowulf is Beowulf.
xxxOn the heels of twelve violent winters, we hear with relief: "Far off in the land of the Geats, Beowulf heard about Grendel." A savior is coming! The relief from terror sets the audience to expect that Beowulf is a knightly hero. But as his character develops, it becomes clear that Beowulf is not on a knightly mission to serve. First and foremost, he is motivated by a desire to prove himself. Like a young Parsifal, Beowulf wants to prove his manly worth. He goes to seek “the famous ruler” Hrothgar for a simple reason: "Hrothgar needed men, so Beowulf would go." In the first hall scene, Hrothgar assumes that the hero has come to repay him for protecting his father. Beowulf never affirms this explanation. But he makes a grand entrance. The first hall scene is filled “with much noise, many words spoken” -- chiefly with Beowulf’s boasts of his own exploits.
xxxThe first battle scene also sets the audience to expect a greatness of spirit that Beowulf, in fact, does not possess. At first blush, we may think that he removes his armor because his trust in God is so great. But there is more braggadocio than faith in the gesture. He simply wants to meet the monster on equal terms -- the better to prove his own superiority: “No less do I regard my strength in battle, my work in warfare than Grendel does his. The monster does not know the warrior’s arts, strong though he be in his hateful work. So swords are laid by. Tonight, no weapons!” Beowulf's first act after the battle is not to give thanks to God, but to hang Grendel's hand as a trophy in the hall. In the morning, Beowulf regrets, not that one of his own thanes was horribly eaten, but that he didn't have more of the monster left to show. Beowulf may look like a true knight (and he is all too frequently cast as a true knight in popularized versions), but Beowulf is a trophy hunter. The pattern grows increasingly obvious: next is Grendel’s head (not left behind as is the arm, but horribly decapitated), then thirty suits of armor taken from his dead comrades while deserting a battlefield where his own Hygelac is slain, and finally the ultimate, disastrous trophy: a dragon's ring hoard.
xxxBeowulf dies "most eager for fame." But the hero's death does not make him a stick-figure symbol of pride. The poet's psychological acuity is fascinating. He looks beneath Beowulf's need to prove manly worth to reveal a youthful fear of inferiority (again, not unlike Parsifal). We learn in the second half of the poem that Beowulf was teased in his boyhood: "Yet his youth had been miserable, when he long seemed sluggish to the Geatish court; they thought him no good." The difference between Beowulf and Parsifal, however, is that Parsifal moves beyond himself and Beowulf never does. Beowulf proves himself again and again, but it is never enough. Even as a grown man, we find him still "proving himself."
xxxAnother psychological insight is revealed through Beowulf’s unquestioning allegiance to Hygelac. Of course, that allegiance was normative for his time: In Beowulf’s adoration of his lord, we see the psychological dynamics of a court system that substituted lord for parent in the life of a boy. Boys were often raised apart from parents for the same reason a falconer separates the chick from the hen -- in order to seal the loyalty of the young thane to his lord. A page can never assume the unconditional love afforded a child; likewise, Beowulf’s eagerness to prove himself reflects in part a craving for approval from Hygelac, a man who has emotionally supplanted his biological father.
xxxFrom a psychological perspective, Beowulf's desire to prove himself and his unquestioning loyalty toward Hygelac reveal a lack of maturity. But these are precisely the qualities that keep our sympathies too. "Eagerness for fame" is a universal human emotion. We sympathize with Beowulf's desire to prove himself against the dragon, despite the disastrous outcome. And Beowulf's craving for approval leads him to a level of generosity surpassing even Hrothgar, in that Beowulf's treasure has been nobly won. Beowulf's adoring loyalty toward Hygelac may be "adolescent," but it garners an exceptional level of sympathy -- it nearly redeems him -- especially when compared with all the examples of disloyalty and treachery that abound in the poem.
xxxFrom a Christian perspective, Beowulf's pagan “virtues” and his faults are seemlessly related. Loyalty is a good thing when it is loyalty to the good. But living without the Christian dispensation, Beowulf cannot genuinely know the good. His unquestioning loyalty to Hygelac (a pagan virtue) links him with a marauding culture that ultimately dooms his people. Likewise, Beowulf's "longing for fame" is symptomatic of a selfishness that makes him vulnerable to deeper flaws than boasting and hero worship. A desire to prove manly worth, in its most innocent form, can be an impetus to growth. But a desire to prove oneself, finally, is not the same as a desire to serve. Beowulf's adolescent selfishness has no place in a king, and his eagerness for "fame" makes him prey to avarice. He sacrifices his kingdom to gain a glittering ring hoard, the ultimate pagan symbol of power and achievement.
Interestingly, Beowulf's future is foreshadowed through every digression in the first section of the poem. The simplest digression involves Heremod, "dark king of Danish ancestors," the man whose terrible legacy Scyld Scefing was supposed to relieve. Beowulf does not experience Heremod's mad rage, but his disastrous last battle creates the same outcome: "a lifetime of sorrow to his people and death to his nobles." The cycle has turned completely from the beginning of the poem to the end. Beowulf’s legacy leaves his people in the same desperate straits as Heremod. The poet ends the digression, ironically comparing Beowulf with Heremod, "that self-centered man": "So unlike Beowulf, a friend to all!"
xxxThe Sigemund digression offers more complex parallels. Like Sigemund, Beowulf will go alone to seek a monster in its lair. In fact, the hero accomplishes this deed twice: In the second episode, Beowulf will go alone into the lair of Grendel’s mother; in the third episode, he will go alone to face the dragon in his lair. Both adventures entail a solo encounter with a monster in a lair filled with treasure. However, one adventure ends successfully; the other ends disastrously. The contrast between these two fundamentally identical adventures forces us to look beneath the surface of action to the motives that inform the action. The difference in these two encounters points to a shift in Beowulf’s character.
xxxThe poem’s illustration of this shift is subtle but inescapable. The poet understands that human motivation is most often a complex blend of impulses. In the mere cave, the hero’s motives are mixed: He is fueled by blood lust and ambition, but he is also in service to Hrothgar. God’s hand is with Beowulf in the mere cave (an example of God’s righteous avenging, as when “God avenged the first murder, banishing Cain from all mankind”). In the Sigemund episode, the dragon’s body melts; in the mere cave, so does Grendel’s body. The difference is that Beowulf (unlike Sigemund) completely ignores the twisted gold and jewels that glisten in the cave.
xxxBy the final episode, however, Beowulf’s motivation has changed completely. Where once he was at least partly motivated by the bond of service, he is now entirely self-serving. Likewise, he now willfully seeks the treasure he once ignored. A golden chalice has been stolen from the dragon hoard. Rather than return the stolen treasure, Beowulf disastrously seeks to raid the ring hoard for more. The armed gold-hoarding warrior has come to mirror the armored gold-hoarding dragon. Put another way, the dragon manifests Beowulf’s gold-hoarding ambitions, just as Grendel manifested the face of a marauding culture. xxxThis is the face of divine retribution in the poem -- a retribution that Hrothgar and Beowulf (in their pagan ignorance) mistake for fate. But the Beowulf poem takes us behind the seeming hand of “fate” to understand that God is indeed “the judge of our deeds.” This idea of righteous judgement is central in the poem. The poet enables us to look through the surface of action to understand the subtle distinctions in motives that define outwardly equivalent deeds. Beowulf’s deeds are the same in episodes two and three: he faces a monster alone in its lair. But the motives that guide the deeds have changed. Rather than save a kingdom, Beowulf sacrifices his own kingdom in an attempt to achieve like Sigemund "fame after his death day." God is not with Beowulf in his last attempt; nor is Beowulf in service to anyone but himself. Beneath the surface of action in Beowulf, motives are determinative.
xxxThe digressions in the gift-giving scene offer an even clearer perspective on this pagan world. The Finnsburh digression includes a tale of revenge and counter-revenge, not unlike the revenge that Beowulf chooses to refuel after the death of Heardred -- a feud that will cost his people dearly. The gift of Wealtheow's collar also prefigures Beowulf's transition to anti-hero through the digression concerning Hygelac's raid. Hygelac wears the great collar in a disastrous raid that is ironically juxtaposed with praise for the young hero: "Lesser warriors rifled the corpses. Dead Geats filled the field. Now cheers for Beowulf arose!" The horrible prediction is given further irony when Wealtheow blesses Beowulf: "Enjoy this collar, the treasure of a people, my dear young Beowulf. And have good luck in the use of these war shirts, have all success. . . ."
xxxBut the most arresting example of pre-figuring occurs in the prediction of Hygelac’s feud. The horror of Hygelac's death is amplified by the statement: "lesser warriors rifled the corpses after the battle harvest." Much later in the poem (spliced in the dragon episode) we learn that Beowulf himself was one of those "lesser warriors." As point man for Hygelac, it does Beowulf no honor that he does not die defending his lord. Worse, he leaves the cataclysmic battle scene in full strength, swimming home with "thirty suits of armor" -- the exact number of bodies that Grendel took in his first attack on Heorot. By slow degrees, Beowulf has come to resemble the monster he first destroyed. Like Grendel, Beowulf leaves the scene: "proud of his slaughter, he hauls the bloody plunder home!" The man who once used his swimming prowess to defeat monsters, now uses that prowess to make off with spoils "rifled from corpses after the battle harvest."

dramatic elements
xxxOne of the great dramatic gestures in the poem occurs when Beowulf removes his armor. Beowulf puts his armor away through pride: He will meet the monster on his own terms. Beowulf's decision is a happy accident, but it also conceals the truth from him. Beowulf believes that the Almighty has chosen him because of his strength. In fact, God's ways are completely mysterious to the Geat.
somatic
xxxBeowulf is a man's man. Better than that, he is a super hero. As "the strongest man who ever lived in this days of this world," his exploits are marvelous, fantastic. In his battles against Grendel and Grendel's mother, the hand of God is evident. But Beowulf plays Superman in the boasting story of his boyhood swimming adventure, in which he singlehandedly tackles an ocean full of sea monsters. His fantastic strength would delight a popular audience, especially in a male-dominant culture. But, as with the somatic use of gore, the poet builds this connection for a purpose, not merely for entertainment. Beowulf's strength, along with the shining hall Heorot, are images of man's vaunting pride: in this poem, both the strength of the hall and the strength of a man are used to remind us of human mortality. The poet invites the audience to revel in Beowulf's fantastic strength, with the express purpose of finally deflating that admiration. In this story, Superman dies. And there is no sequel.

pagan
xxxBeowulf and Hrothgar, two pagan figures, speak of "God," “the Lord in his wisdom,” “judgement day.” This sort of language is difficult to square with the obviously pagan context of their lives. Curiously, the poet has chosen to conflate pagan culture with Biblical language, to cast his pagans in a world that has its virtues, but without the grace of the Christian dispensation. There are many instances that illustrate the difference between what is essentially a pagan conceptualization of an “almighty” over lord who governs the workings of fate and the poet’s Christian conceptualization of God. In Hrothgar’s case, despite his sermonizing admonitions, we clearly have a portrait of a pagan -- first in his life as marauder and secondly in the appeals to war idols to ward off Grendel’s attacks. Of Hrothgar and his “wise” men, the poet tells us emphatically: “They did not know our Lord, judge of our deeds.” xxx
xxx Beowulf’s characterization is more subtle, however, because in Beowulf the poet traces a fall from natural innocence to corruption. (It is really in the third section that the poet shows us most obviously that Beowulf’s conception of God is thoroughly pagan). But the subtle distinction is present from the beginning. For example,when Beowulf takes off his armor, it is initially possible at least to imagine that he does so in faith. (Only his bragging: “I will not kill him by sword, though I easily might!” reminds us that Beowulf is not really a Daniel trusting God to save him in the lion’s den).
xxxGiven these examples it is fair to question the poet’s decision to conflate Biblical language and pagan characters. One prevalent view is that the poet did not wish to sully the memory of ancient Scandinavian ancestors through direct references to their worship of pagan deities. This argument, however, fails to explain the very emphatic episodes of idolatry: “They offered gifts to war idols, made sacrifices in temples, said old words aloud.”
xxxAn alternative view is that the poet’s decision had more to do with artistic values than the desire to depict “ancient ancestors” in a more favorable light. After all, the distinction between Christian values and non-Christian values would certainly have been more obvious if Hrothgar, on viewing Grendel’s hand, had said, “Thank Woden for this!” But that very easiness of distinction would have distracted the audience from the poet’s over-riding artistic agenda: that we identify with the characters of his world, that we look beneath “words” to what is. Just as the parable of the Good Samaritan led its listeners to consider the meaning of “neighbor” from the charitable example of an out caste, this poet leads his audience to consider the fine distinctions between true and false virtues through the example of Vikings, another group of “out castes.” The poet is not merely pointing a finger at those “wicked Danes.” Rather, he forces his audience to realize their own capacity for avarice, and the violence that avarice feeds . To see what is rotten in this Denmark is to see what is rotten in us all.
xxxAn example of this subtle contrasting of values is the difference between the poet’s sympathetic (Christian) condemnation of Grendel and the swaggering jubilance of pagan warriors. The morning after the battle, the poet gives as a somber, gruesome picture: “The lake water boiled with blood -- a mirky swirl of hot, dark ooze. There Grendel gave up his heathen soul. There Hell received him.” Next the poet contrasts this horror with the childish glee of warriors who once slept “elsewhere, anywhere at all but the great hall Heorot” and have now opportunistically “gathered around the gift hall, from near and far.” Their joy is not circumscribed by the horror of Grendel’s dying, “nor was their cause for grief to any who saw the path where the wretched one rushed to his doom.” Theirs is the glee of sports rowdies who burn rubber pealing out of the stadium parking lot: “Then home the warriors came, merry-a-day from the dark mere, the well-mounted warriors, joyful on horseback. At times they made their horses rear, let fine dark steeds race in contest -- wherever the footing was firm, the path well-known.”
This swaggering jubilance links directly with Beowulf’s own response to Grendel’s death. xxxBeowulf is not humbly grateful for his victory; rather, in modern terms, he is the “pro wrestler” -- crowing about his victory and digging at his enemy, exulting in his opponent’s agony. Beowulf tells Hrothgar: “Our visitor left us a ‘token’ of his visit. To save his life, he left his hand behind. The creature got little comfort from that dear gift! And now he waits in the agony of his death for the judgement of the Almighty!” Beowulf’s boasting demeanor sharply contrasts with the somber, even sorrowful, assessment of the poet.

Christian
xxxAnother problem in the conflation of pagan and Christian elements is the use of Christological and Biblical imagery to speak of pagan warriors. The first example in the poem comes in the funeral scene, when Scyld Scefing and his son Beow are described in terms of a Moses sent to deliver his people. Scyld Scefing is like Moses “found a waif, helpless.” His son Beow in the same passage is described as “young in the courtyards, whom God had sent to comfort the people -- well had He seen the sinful distress they suffered earlier, leaderless for long.”
xxxWith Beowulf, Biblical imagery is even more obvious. When Grendel’s arm is hung from the hall, there are overtones of a crucifixion -- only this time, of course, of an anti-Christ. When Hrothgar greets Beowulf, there are strong echoes of the Annunciation: “Who bore such a son, that woman can say the God of old was gracious to her.” Biblical imagery is especially evident in the death of Grendel’s mother. It is even evident in the morning after young Beowulf’s battle against sea monsters (“Light came from the east, God’s bright beacon, and the seas calmed.”)
xxxThis imagery serves two different purposes. The first (as with the Scyld Scefing/Moses conflation and the conflation of the Annunciation with Hrothgar’s blessing, the imagery exposes the false beliefs of the pagan world. Of course, Scyld Scefing is no Moses. Neither is Beowulf a savior capable of redeeming Hrothgar’s world. But the fact that such flawed men are perceived as “redeemers” points to the tragic ignorance of the pagan world.
xxxThe second use of this imagery (especially the imagery of light) is in illuminating the actual presence of God. Beowulf thinks that he has tackled sea monsters single-handedly, but the poet implies through the cosmological description that Beowulf was not indeed “alone.” This cosmological response is especially pronounced in the defeat of Grendel’s mother. The imagery presents a miraculous unfolding: “Then the cave-light shone out, a gleam from within, even as from heaven comes the shining light of God’s candle.” So much the worse for Beowulf, who is blind to the miracle. His immediate response to the glorious light in the cave: “He looked through the chamber, moved along the wall, raised
his weapon, single-minded, Hygelac’s thane, still in a fury. Nor was that blade idle. . . .”
xxxAll of which is not to say that we should be “single-minded” in our assessment of Beowulf! Just as Beowulf’s lust for revenge “blinds” him to the miraculous light in the cave, the hero’s arrogance blinds him to the deepest truths that guide his world. But this literary work presents a portrait for our contemplation, not a problem solved through “judgement.” The poet creates in Beowulf a hero corrupted by the deepest flaws in the heroic temperament, until he comes to resemble the “monstrous” aspects of the marauding, revenge-centered, gold-hoarding culture that informs him. And yet, we are to judge the actions, not the man. xxxBeowulf himself may be quick to judge (Note his off-handedly damning remarks to Unferth and his gleefulness at the prospect of Grendel’s “judgement day”). But the poet consciously restrains our own penchant for the same. At the ship burial of the marauder Scyld Scefing, the poet reminds his audience: “Men cannot truthfully say who received that cargo -- neither counselors in the hall, nor warriors under the sky.” Likewise, we are left with a puzzle at Beowulf’s funeral pyre, where “heaven swallows the smoke.” If there is one ambiguity sustained in the poem, this is it: It is an expression of the poet’s humility before the throne of God, an ambiguity in service to the great Mystery.

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