The Wanderer
Date and form
The poem may predate the manuscript by hundreds of years. Some scholars believe that the poem was composed around the time the Anglo-Saxons were making the conversion to Christianity, sometime around 597, though some would date it as much as several centuries later. The inclusion of a number of Norse-influenced words, such as the compound hrimceald (ice-cold, from the Old Norse word hrimkaldr), and some unusual spelling forms, has encouraged others to date the poem to the late 9th or early 10th century[1].
The metre of the poem is of four-stress lines, divided between the second and third stresses by a caesura. Each caesura is indicated in the manuscript by a subtle increase in character spacing and with full stops, but modern print editions render them in a more obvious fashion. Like most Old English poetry, it is written in alliterative metre.
[edit] Contents
The Wanderer conveys the meditations of a solitary exile on his past glories as a warrior in his lord's band of retainers, his present hardships and the values of forbearance and faith in the heavenly Lord. The warrior is identified as eardstapa (line 6a), usually translated as "wanderer", who roams the cold seas and walks "paths of exile" (wræclastas). He remembers the days when he served his lord, feasted together with comrades, and received precious gifts from the lord. Yet fate (wyrd) turned against him when he lost his lord, kinsmen and comrades in battle and was driven into exile.
However, the speaker reflects upon life while spending years in exile, and to some extent has gone beyond his personal sorrow. In this respect, the poem is a "wisdom poem." The degeneration of “earthly glory” is presented as inevitable in the poem, contrasting with the theme of salvation through faith in God.
The wanderer vividly describes his loneliness and yearning for the bright days past, and concludes with an admonition to put faith in God, "in whom all stability dwells". It has been argued by some scholars that this admonition is a later addition, as it lies at the end of a poem that some would say is otherwise entirely secular in its concerns; but inasmuch as many of the words in the poem have both secular and spiritual or religious meanings, the foundation of this argument is not on firm ground.
The psychological or spiritual progress of the wanderer has been described as an "act of courage of one sitting alone in meditation", who through embracing the values of Christianity seeks "a meaning beyond the temporary and transitory meaning of earthly values".[2]
[edit] Interpretation
The Wanderer is possibly the most debated Old English poem in terms of its meaning, origin, and even the translation of various ambiguous words.
[edit] Critical History
The development of critical approaches to The Wanderer corresponds closely to changing historical trends in European and Anglo-American philology, literary theory and historiography as a whole[3].
Like other works in Old English, the rapid changes in the English language after the Norman Conquest meant that it simply would not have been understood between the twelfth and sixteenth centuries[4]. Until the early nineteenth century, the existence of the poem was largely unknown outside of Exeter Cathedral library. In John Josias Conybeare's 1826 compilation of Anglo Saxon poetry, The Wanderer was erroneously treated as part of the preceding poem Juliana[5]. It was not until 1842 that it was identified as a separate work, in its first print edition, by the pioneering Anglo-Saxonist Benjamin Thorpe. Thorpe considered it to bear "considerable evidence of originality", but regretted an absence of information on its historical and mythological context[6]. His decision to name it The Wanderer has not always been met with approval. J.R.R. Tolkien, who adopted elements of the poem into The Lord of the Rings, is typical of such dissatisfaction. By 1926-7 Tolkien was considering the alternative titles 'An Exile', or 'Alone the Banished Man', and by 1964-5 was arguing for 'The Exile's Lament'[7]. Despite such pressure, the poem is generally referred to under Thorpe's original title.
[edit] Themes and Motifs
A number of formal elements of the poem have been identified by critics, including the use of the "beasts of battle" motif,[8], the ubi sunt formula[9], the exile theme [10], the ruin theme [11], and the siĂľ-motif.
The "beasts of battle" motif, often found in Anglo-Saxon heroic poetry, is here modified to include not only the standard eagle, raven and wolf, but also a "sad-faced man". It has been suggested that this is the poem's protagonist.
The ubi sunt or "where is" formula is here in the form "hwær cwom", the Old English phrase "where has gone". The use of this emphasises the sense of loss that pervades the poem.
The preoccupation with the siĂľ-motif in Anglo-Saxon literature is matched in many post-Conquest texts where journeying is central to the text. A necessarily brief survey of the corpus might include Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, John Bunyan's The Pilgrim's Progress, Jonathan Swift's Gulliver's Travels, Samuel Taylor Coleridge's The Rime of the Ancient Mariner and William Golding's Rites of Passage. Not only do we find physical journeying within The Wanderer and those later texts, but a sense in which the journey is responsible for a visible transformation in the mind of the character making the journey.
[edit] Speech Boundaries
A plurality of scholarly opinion holds that the main body of the poem is spoken as monologue, bound between a prologue and epilogue voiced by the poet. For example, lines 1-5, or 1-7, and 111-115 can be considered the words of the poet as they refer to the wanderer in the third person, and lines 8-110 as those of a singular individual[12] in the first-person. Alternatively, the entire piece can be seen as a soliloquy spoken by a single speaker[13]. Due to the disparity between the anxiety of the 'wanderer' (anhaga) in the first half and the contentment of the 'wise-man' (snottor) in the second half, others have interpreted it as a dialogue between two distinct personas, framed within the first person prologue and epilogue. An alternative approach grounded in post-structuralist literary theory identifies a polyphonic series of different speaking positions determined by the subject that the speaker will address [14].
By Michael Drout, on September 21st, 2007
A poem of great sadness and beauty, the Wanderer is the lament of an exile, longing for the lost days of happiness when he was with his lord. A wise man keeps his thoughts locked in his breast. He recognizes how all the world is fleeting, strong walls standing empty, rime-covered, blasted by storms. The halls are empty because the men are dead, carried off by war, by beasts, buried in graves.
Where is the horse? Where is the rider? Where is the giver of gold? Where are the joys of the hall?
Alas, the bright cup! Alas, the mailed warrior! Alas, the power of the prince. Time has passed, grown dark under the night helm, as if it had never been. Now remains only a trace, a wall, high and decorated. Spears took the men; storms thrash the stones. Snow binds the earth, the winter wind. Then darkness, the shadow of night, hail falls, men fear.
There is much hardship on this earth. Fate changes the world under the heavens. Here wealth is loaned, here a friend is loaned, here a man is loaned, here a kinsman is loaned. All the foundations of the earth stand idle.
Good is he who holds his truth. A man must never recite his sorrow, speak from his breast, unless he knows how to cure himself with courage. Well will it be for him who seeks favor from the father in heaven, where for us the eternal foundation lies.
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
The Seafarer is an Old English poem recorded in the Exeter Book, one of the four surviving manuscripts of Old English poetry. It consists of 124 lines, followed by the single word "Amen". In the past it has been frequently referred to as an elegy, a poem that mourns a loss, or has the more general meaning of a simply sorrowful piece of writing. Some scholars, however, have argued that the content of the poem also places it in the category of Sapiential, or Wisdom, Literature. This kind of literature mainly consists of proverbs and maxims and is named in references to Old Testament books. The Seafarer has “significant sapiential material concerning the definition of wise men, the ages of the world, and the necessity for patience in adversity” (Hill 806).
It is told from the point of view of an old seafarer, who is reminiscing and evaluating his life as he has lived it. In lines 1–33a, the seafarer describes the desolate hardships of life on the wintry sea. He describes the anxious feelings, cold-wetness, and solitude of the sea voyage in contrast to life on land where men are surrounded by kinsmen, free from dangers, and full on food and wine. The climate on land then begins to resemble that of the wintry sea, and in lines 33b-66a, the speaker shifts his tone from the dreariness of the winter voyage and begins to describe his yearning for the sea. Time passes through the seasons from winter—“it snowed from the north” (31b)—to spring—“groves assume blossoms” (48a)—and to summer—“the cuckoo forebodes, or forewarns” (53a).
Though this poem begins as a narrative of a man’s life at sea, it becomes a praise of God. At line 66b, the speaker again shifts, this time not in tone, but in subject matter. The sea is no longer mentioned; instead the speaker preaches about the path to heaven. He asserts that “earthly happiness will not endure" (line 67), that men must oppose “the devil with brave deeds” (line 76), and that earthly wealth cannot travel to the afterlife nor will it determine the wealth of the soul (lines 97-102). Next the speaker provides the reader with maxims and proverbs and then calls to men to consider where they want to spend the afterlife and “then reflect upon how we could come there” (line 118). Heaven is a goal for man to reach by living a good, honourable life. This is a reward to man for faith, as well as a reward for God who “has honoured us for all time” (124). The poem is ended with thanks to the Lord.
In view of the structure and content, as outlined above, it is helpful to think of the seafarer's narration of his experiences as an exemplum, used to make a moral point; and to persuade his hearers of the truth of his words. It has been asserted that this poem demonstrates the fundamental Anglo-Saxon belief that life is shaped by fate. Another understanding was proposed by the Cambridge Old English Reader in 2004, namely that the poem is essentially concerned to state: "Let us (good Christians, that is) remind ourselves where our true home lies and concentrate on getting there
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The Seafarer has been translated many times by numerous scholars, starting with Benjamin Thorpe in 1842. One of the more recent of these versions is by Dr. Sean Miller, who provides a website with a copy of the original text as well as his own version.[1] Most of the translations can be categorized as tending either to the scholarly or the poetic. American expatriate poet Ezra Pound produced a well-known interpretation of The Seafarer, and his version varies much from the original in theme and content. It all but eliminates the religious element of the poem, and addresses only the first 99 lines. (Conway).[2]
However, Pound mimics the style of the original through the extensive use of alliteration, which is a common device in Anglo-Saxon poetry. His interpretation was first published in New Age on November 30th, 1911, and subsequently in his Ripostes in 1912.
The Seafarer has attracted the attention of scholars and critics, creating a substantial amount of critical assessment. Many of these assessments initially debated the continuity and unity of the poem. Early critics like Rieger in 1896 argued that the first half of the poem has two speakers, an old man reflecting on the hardships and sorrows of the sea and a young man eager to set forth on a voyage. Additionally, some scholars have argued that the second half of the poem—the homiletic portion—is not an original part of the poem but a later addition. Based on this argument, in 1902 W.W. Lawrence concluded that the poem was a “wholly secular poem revealing the mixed emotions of an adventurous seaman who could not but yield to the irresistible fascination for the sea in spite of his knowledge of its perils and hardships” (Pope, 222).
In later assessments, however, scholars have shifted their viewpoints and have formulated arguments that point to a well-unified monologue. In the arguments for the unity of The Seafarer, scholars have debated the interpretation and translations of words, whether the poem is allegorical, and the meaning of the supposed allegory. John C. Pope and Stanley Greenfield have specifically debated the meaning of the word sylf in the poem and whether the seafarer’s earlier voyages were voluntary or involuntary. In contrast to Dorothy Whitelock’s claim that the poem is a literal description of the voyages with no figurative meaning, both scholars believe the poem is an allegory. Many scholars, including Whitelock and Pope, have concluded that the poem is about a penitential exile, though Pope believes the poem shows this through allegorical layers and Whitelock through literal description. Greenfield, however, believes that the Seafarer’s first voyages are not the voluntary actions of a penitent but rather imposed by a confessor on the sinful seaman.
Though many scholars have commented on the literal and allegorical levels of the poem, some scholars view The Seafarer as more allegorical than literal. In 1971, Daniel G. Calder presented an argument in which The Seafarer is an allegorical poem for the representation of the mind and the elements of the voyages are objective symbols of one in an “exile” state of mind. Contrasted to the setting of the sea is the setting of the land, a state of mind that contains former joys. When the sea and land are joined through the wintry symbols, Calder argues the speaker’s psychological mind set changes. He explains that is when “something informs him that all life on earth is like death. The land the seafarer seeks on this new and outward ocean voyage is one that will not be subject to the mutability of the land and sea as he has known” (268).
In 1982, John F. Vickrey continued Calder’s analysis of The Seafarer as a psychological allegory. Vickrey argued that the poem is an allegory for the life of a sinner through the metaphor of “the boat of the mind,” a metaphor used “to describe, through the imagery of a ship at sea, a person’s state of mind” (251). His arguments disagree with those of Pope and Whitelock that identify the seafarer as a penitential exile. He argues that if he were a religious exile, then the speaker would have related the “joys of the spirit” (254) and not his miseries to the reader.
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
For the character of J. R. R. Tolkien's legendarium, see DĂ©or.
"Deor" (or "The Lament of Deor") is an Old English poem, from the 10th century AD, preserved in the Exeter Book. The poem consists of the lament of the scop Deor, who lends his name to the poem, which was given no formal title. Modern scholars do not actually believe Deor to be the author of this poem.
In the poem, Deor's lord has replaced him. Deor mentions various figures from Germanic mythology and reconciles his own troubles with the troubles these figures faced, ending each section with the refrain "that passed away, so may this." The poem consists of 42 alliterative lines.
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Attempts at placing this poem within a genre have proven to be quite difficult. Some commentators attempting to characterise the work have called it an ubi sunt ("where are they?") poem because of its meditations on transience. It can also be considered a traditional lament and poem of consolation. Christian consolation poems, however, usually attempt to subsume personal miseries in a historical or explicitly metaphysical context (e.g., Boethius's Consolation of Philosophy), and such perspectives are somewhat remote from the tradition of Anglo-Saxon poetry. Medievalist scholars who have viewed the poem within the Anglo-Saxon tradition have therefore seen it primarily as a begging poem—a poem written by a travelling and begging poet who is without a place at a noble court—although because few other begging poems survive, assigning it to such a genre is somewhat speculative. Others have related "Deor" to other melancholy poems in the Exeter Book, such as "The Seafarer" and "The Wanderer".
John Miles Foley has hypothesized that the apparent murkiness of "Deor" is also in no small part attributable to the obscurity of the poet's references. As he puts it, "Cut off from its traditional background, 'Deor' makes little sense".[1] Because the poem is not entirely translatable into modern English—the third and fourth stanzas remain indeterminate to this day, and even the refrain prompts argument and poses linguistic difficulties—without grasping the allusions of the poem, it is quite difficult to understand the poet's implied attitude, and therefore to place it in any genre satisfactorily. Further, given the mass loss of Anglo-Saxon literature, it is possible that constraining the poem to an existing genre is artificial, for the poem may represent yet another, otherwise unattested genre, or it might well stand alone outside of generic rules.
The language in the poetry is highly nuanced, and it is difficult for any translation into Modern English to capture the tensions present in the highly dense and parsimonious wording. The poem runs through a list of legendary figures, asks what happened to them, and then responds with a refrain of "Þæs ofereode, þisses swa mæg!" ("that was overcome [with respect to it], this may also be [with respect to it]").
Grammatical difficulties are easily glossed over in most translations: for example, the Anglo-Saxon "þæs" and "þisses" of the refrain are both genitive, not nominative. A more correct and literal translation would read "of that went away, and so may of this"—which is difficult to make sense of in Modern English. Reinserting an elided "it" might render "It (sorrow) went away from that (situation), (and) so it (sorrow) may from this (situation)."
The poem Deor is a lament by its namesake about his exile from his life of luxury, respect, and popularity. He compares his current predicament to the predicaments of figures from Anglo-Saxon folklore. Among the miseries and dismal fates that Deor runs through are those of Theodoric the Great, Ermanaric of the Goths, the mythological smith Wayland, and Wayland's victim Beadohilde (the daughter of Wayland's captor; he raped her and she finds herself with child). Each suffered an undeserved fate, and in each case "that passed away with respect to it, and so may this." But this refrain can point at two very different statements: first, that remedy came about, one way or another, in each situation, or, alternatively, that the continuous flow of time (a favourite Anglo-Saxon topic) erases all pain (though not necessarily healing all wounds).
Only in the last stanza do we learn what "this" references: the poet's own sorrow at having lost his position of privilege. At the poem's conclusion, Deor reveals that he was once a great poet among the Heodenings, until he was displaced and sent wandering by Heorrenda, a more skillful poet. According to Norse mythology, the Heodenings (HjaĂ°ningar) were involved in the never-ending "battle of the Heodenings", the HjaĂ°ningavĂg.[2] Heorrenda (Hjarrandi) was one of the names of the god Odin.
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
For a Swarm of Bees is an Anglo-Saxon metrical charm intended to keep honey bees from swarming. Towards the end of For a Swarm of Bees, the swarming bees are referred to as "victory-women" (Old English sigewif):
Settle down, victory-women,
never be wild and fly to the woods.
Be as mindful of my welfare,
as is each man of eating and of home.[1]
The term "victory women" has been sometimes referred to as pointing to an association with valkyries. The notion has alternately been theorized as a simple metaphor for the "victorious sword" (the stinging) of the bees.[1]
Notes: The speaker acknowledges his own human shortcomings and realizes that the power of earth must work on himself as well as on the bees. The Anglo-Saxons knew that bees were intelligent creatures: they lived in cooperative communities, stored food efficiently and prudently, could foretell the weather, etc. The beekeeper asks the Wise Women to share their bounty with him, perhaps hoping to receive some of their wisdom along with the honey. The practice of throwing sand or light soil over bees to get them to settle was common among early beekeepers throughout northern Europe. It has been suggested that this confuses their flight pattern, causing them to land. More important, in the magical spirit in which a performance of this sort took place, is that the scatter of soil over the bees defines their earth or home - they may leave gather pollen, but should always return to the precinct defined by the thrown earth.