Monday, January 21, 2019

MacLeish - Conquistador

Cortés

MacLeish's"Conquistador" can be found in Collected Poems, 1917-1982, and here are the lines that preface the tale of Bernal Díaz del Castillo:
The Argument

Of that world's conquest and the fortunate wars:
Of the great report and expectation of honor:
How in their youth they stretched sail: how fared they

Westward under the wind: by wave wandered:
Shoaled ship at the last at the ends of ocean:
How they were marching in the lands beyond:

Of the difficult ways there were and the winter's snow
Of the city they found in the good lands: how they lay in it:
How there were always the leaves and the days going . . . (page 184)
This actually sounds rather like Milton, to my ear, anyway. Recall the opening lines of Paradise Lost, which I've borrowed from The John Milton Reading Room and which begin immediately after an argument (see Reading Room):
OF Mans First Disobedience, and the Fruit
Of that Forbidden Tree, whose mortal tast
Brought Death into the World, and all our woe,
With loss of Eden, till one greater Man
Restore us, and regain the blissful Seat, [ 5 ]
Sing Heav'nly Muse . . .
I hear a distant echo of Milton in MacLeish's lines. I also hear an echo of Beowulf. Consider this: "Westward under the wind: by wave wandered." All that alliteration? There's even a caesura! Very like Beowulf. But I didn't come here today to talk to you about Beowulf. You already know about Beowulf. He's either alive in your mind, or he's not.

I mean to talk here today about Milton and MacLeish. Notice, then, the fact that MacLeish, like Milton, prefaces the beginning lines with an 'Argument.' As I said before, go to the Reading Room, and see just above the opening lines of Paradise Lost.

Of course, there will be differences . . .

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Sunday, December 03, 2017

Robert D. Stevick on Sung-il Lee's Beowulf

Robert D. Stevick

I cited Stevick yesterday in words of high praise for Lee's Beowulf, but let me add a few more, these on how perfect Lee's translation choices have been. According to Stevick:
Nothing gets in the way [of the poem]. The commonest impediments to successful translation have been theories of this and that, High Principles to be upheld, or just romantic notions about "olde tyme" English poetry. Sometimes it is a choice to imitate the general sound of the original text -- two half-lines separated by syntax but linked by alliteration. The one successful instance came many, many years ago from Charles W. Kennedy, but even this text [by Kennedy] tends to accelerate unfittingly as the rhythm continues unrelenting. Sometimes it is a decision to imitate the blank verse of the Renaissance. Sometimes it may be choice of a verse-form such as nine-syllable lines defended by reasoning rather than readability. Sung-Il Lee's translation is not trammeled in any ways like these. The syllable-count is unpredictable: it is instead the phrasings that embody the verse rhythms. (Robert D. Stevick, "Foreward," in Sung-il Lee, Beowulf in Parallel Texts, Cascade Books, Eugene, Oregon, 2017, p. ix)
Just the other day, I was discussing with Bill Vallicella the virtue of counting syllables vs. the virtue of measuring phrases. We didn't use exactly those terms, but that's what we were getting at. Stevick clearly comes down on the side of phrasings . . .in this instance, anyway.

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Saturday, December 02, 2017

Lee Sung-il's Beowulf

Lee Sung-il

Several weeks ago, Lee Sung-il - emeritus professor of Yonsei and expert in the English language from Old English onward - sent me a copy of his translation of Beowulf. I was already aware of the greatness of his achievement, having heard him read several lines at a medievalist conference some years back.

I'm no expert on Beowulf, but I have published a couple of articles on this ancient 'Anglo-Saxon' text, so I can perhaps be allowed a point of view in claiming that Lee's is the best modern rendering of this epic poem that we have.

But don't just listen to me. Here's what the expert Robert D. Stevick wrote in his forward to the translation:
Why read this translation of Beowulf? Because there isn't a better one to be found.
This text isn't just the translation. It's Beowulf in Parallel Texts, the Old English original on the left-hand page, Lee's translation on the right-hand page. The cover looks like this:


Go forth, therefore, to purchase it, and read . . .

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Saturday, November 15, 2014

Yi Yook-sa: The Vertex

The Vertex
Yi Yook-sa
Translated and Introduced by Sung-Il Lee
Google Images

I had a surprise awaiting me when I stepped into the EPO yesterday, a copy of the poetry book depicted above, personally sent to me by the translator Sung-Il Lee himself - the Beowulf translator I've mentioned before - who wrote these words:
For Professor Horace Jeffery Hodges,
With best wishes,
Sung Il Lee
November 8, 2014
That was very kind of him. I'll have to treat him to a coffee, or a lunch, sometime soon.

Here's one of the poems:
Horse


Disheveled mane,

Eyes that have lost their luster,

Hair standing like chesnut bur -

Ah, horse, weary of a long journey!

Horse, worn with continual whipping!


Languidly drooping,

Tail falling down, as if lifeless,

Yet, hooves glistening in the frost -

Ah, horse, ready to scatter the clouds!

White horse, neighing to the New Year!
Nicely done! Thank you Professor Lee. Written by Yi Yook-sa in 1930, translated into English and published now, in 2014 . . .

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Sunday, March 30, 2014

'Green' Vikings and the Green Knight?


The early-10th-century Muslim envoy Ibn Fadlán, writing in a travel account often referred to as In the Land of Darkness -- which I suppose refers to the north's long winter nights but perhaps refers to the darkness of ignorance -- describes Vikings (whom he calls "the Rūs") as follows:
I saw the Rūs, who had come for trade and had camped by the river Itil. I have never seen bodies more perfect than theirs. They were like palm trees. They are fair and ruddy. They wear neither coats nor caftans, but a garment which covers one side of the body and leaves one hand free. Each of them carries an axe, a sword and a knife and is never parted from any of the arms we have mentioned. Their swords are broad bladed and grooved like the Frankish ones. From the tips of his toes to his neck, each man is tattooed in dark green with designs, and so forth.
What interests me is that the Vikings are tattooed in dark green designs from toes to the neck, and I wonder if there is a memory of these 'green' men by the author of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, though there are differences, the Green Knight being solid green from toes to top of head.

Probably not . . .

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Thursday, May 16, 2013

Marshall Poe on Ricardo Duchesne's Uniqueness of Western Civilization

Prof. Marshall T. Poe
University of Iowa

In checking out more reviews of Ricardo Duchesne's Uniqueness of Western Civilization, I found historian Marshall Poe's brief summary, with access to an audio interview over an hour in length, so of course, I didn't have time to listen to the entire exchange of views, but I did learn that Duchesne was born in Puerto Rico and moved to Canada as a teenager, attending college in Montreal though never losing his Spanish accent. Here's Poe's summary of Duchesne's views, along with some prefatory remarks:
One of the standard assumptions of modern Western social science (history included) is that material conditions drive historical development. All of the "Great Transitions" in world history -- the origins of agriculture, the birth of cities, the rise of high culture, the industrial revolution -- can, so most Western social scientists claim, be associated with some condition that compelled otherwise conservative humans to act in new ways. This premise is of course most closely linked to Marx, but it is found throughout post-Marxist big picture scholarship (including my own humble contribution to that literature).

Ricardo Duchesne argues in his new The Uniqueness of Western Civilization (Brill, 2011) that we have it all wrong. History, he claims, is driven by creative people and their ideas, not by the conditions they find themselves in. If you see a bit of Hegel and Nietzsche here, you are not wrong: Duchesne embraces them both (and throws in a considerable amount of Weber to boot). But he goes much further. He tries to demonstrate, using the best literature available on a wide variety of topics, that the Hegelian-Nietzschean view of historical development is correct. This is not a book of theory alone; it's an attempt to empirically demonstrate a theory. Even more radically, Duchesne uses the Hegelian-Nietzschean view to argue that since the invasion of the Indo-Europeans, a pastoral people who were imbued with unique aristocratic-warrior ethos, the West has been more creative than other world historical civilizations, and that this creativity explains in large measure the "Great Divergence" that we have seen in modern time.
I'm coming to have a clearer sense of Duchesne's argument, and assuming he's right, we should be reading Beowulf more deeply than we've been doing if we want to really understand the root of Western success, which he argues grows from the "aristocratic egalitarianism of Indo-Europeans," which sounds like a rather paradoxical concept, since "aristocratic" ordinarily refers to a type of elitism, but "egalitarianism" to an ethos of equality.

I'll have to look into this some more . . .

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Wednesday, November 03, 2010

Sung-Il Lee: New Translation of Beowulf

Beowulf
(Image from Wikipedia)

I haven't dealt with Beowulf for some time now, but only a few days ago, a reader inquired about what had happened with an unpublished Beowulf translation that I'd praised a few years ago after hearing a brief passage read out at a Medievalist conference here in Seoul. Here's what the reader was referring to:
What! Have we not heard of the glory
Of the Spear-Danes' kings in olden days --
How the princes performed deeds of valor?
Not a few times Scyld Scefing seized
The seats of banquet from many a tribe,
Mighty opponents, and terrified the earls.
Since the time when he was found a deserted infant,
He grew up in tender care, soared to the sky,
And prospered with unparalleled honor, till
All neighboring nations over the sea came
To obey and pay tribute to him: a good king he was!
As noted on that same blog post, these opening lines of Beowulf were the translation work of Professor Sung-Il Lee, of Yonsei University. I had been waiting to hear more about this, specifically, its publication, but so much time had passed that I'd given up, for Professor Lee had retired and was rumored to have become a recluse, as I told the reader who contacted me.

If he did become reclusive, that seclusion must have been for a good cause, for I learned only yesterday that Mellen Press has published Professor Lee's translation:
Beowulf and Four Related Old English Poems:
A Verse Translation with Explanatory Notes


Lee, Sung-Il

Description

These modern verse translations manage to retain the verse rhythm of the originals. This volume includes explanatory notes and new interpretations of the original text.

Reviews

". . . a very good translation, fluent and generally idiomatic, and accurate in spirit to its original without being awkwardly literal."

-Prof. Derek Pearsall, Harvard University

"This is how the chain of bards who put [Beowulf] together might have chanted the poem had they spoken the way we do now. This is a masterful version and as close to an ideal translation as we can get."

-Gregory Rabassa, (Poet and Translator)

From the Foreword:

"If we still offered seminars on The Art of Translation, this would be a good centerpiece."

­-Prof. Robert D. Stevick, University of Washington
I now see why Professor Lee took his time -- he was translating four other Old English poems! From the evidence of these blurbs, I'd infer that the hundred dollar price is worth shelling out for the volume. Congratulations to Professor Lee.

I hope that the reader who contacted me with the query will check back soon and see the good news . . .

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Friday, September 25, 2009

Anglo-Saxon Hoard Found in Former Kingdom of Mercia

Anglo-Saxon Treasure
(Image from Yahoo.com)

Exciting news this morning awaited those of us interested in such Anglo-Saxon literature as Beowulf, for we read of an archaeological find with enormous implications for Anglo-Saxon studies. I read of it in Yahoo's article by Raphael G. Satter: "Largest hoard of Anglo-Saxon treasure found in UK."

Roger Bland, the expert who directed the hoard's excavation, calls it a "fantastic find." The treasure was unearthed in the former Anglo-Saxon kingdoms of Mercia and is dated to 675-725 AD, which puts it close in time to the composition of that epic poem Beowulf.

Relevant to this literary 'connection' would be the small strip of gold shown above, for it is inscribed with a martial quotation from a Latin version of the Old Testament:
"Rise up, O Lord, and may thy enemies be dispersed and those who hate thee be driven from thy face."
Satter doesn't identify the precise source, nor does he provide the Latin, so I shall. It's Numbers 10:35 and says in Latin:
"surge Domine et dissipentur inimici tui et fugiant qui oderunt te a facie tua"
If you compare this verse to the image, you will be able to make out some of the Latin words, albeit differing slightly in spelling, e.g., "dissipentur" is given as "disepentu(r)" and "fugiant" as "fugent."

That will give linguists something to puzzle over, but I'm more interested in possible implications of this warlike verse choice for my theory that in the poem Beowulf, the character "Beowulf is being presented as a pagan antetype of Christ in an epic Anglo-Saxon praeparatio evangelium" that models pre-Christian Anglo-Saxon culture as being under the old covenant described in the Old Testament.

I argue this latter point at length in my article "Praeparatio Evangelium: Beowulf as Antetype of Christ," published back in 2004 by The Medieval and Early Modern English Studies Association of Korea (Volume 12, Issue 2).

The literature scholar Brother Anthony has kindly placed my article online for those intrepid enough to venture in such realms.

UPDATE: Current Archaeology 236 (cf. Wikipedia) provides the entire Latin inscription, "surge d[omi]ne [et] disepentur inimici tui et fugent qui oderunt te a facie tua," and references both Numbers 10:35 (i.e., "surge Domine et dissipentur inimici tui et fugiant qui oderunt te a facie tua") and Psalm 67:2 (i.e., "Exsurgat Deus et dissipentur inimici eius et fugiant qui oderunt eum a facie eius"), but the inscription is obviously much closer to the Numbers citation.

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Thursday, November 29, 2007

"Axis of Medieval"

Axes of Medieval?
For beating around the Bush...
(Image from Wikipedia)

Another of my cyber-cypher friends -- "Eshuneutics" this time -- has alerted me to a . . . well, 'intriguing' review of the new Beowulf film:
This is a weird little article about Beowulf (film) as an American v Korea allegory.
By "Korea" here is meant North Korea. The article, "'Beowulf': War Porn Wrapped in a Chippendale Dancer's Body," was written by an expat author currently living in Moscow, Alexander Zaitchik, and published on November 27 (2007) in an online magazine with the punworthy title AlterNet.

Eshuneutics was referring to the following passage:
Beowulf, played by Ray Winstone, arrives in Denmark not as a king, but as a famed mercenary. Like today's Pentagon-contracted security firms, he claims not to be interested solely in money, yet heartily indulges in the king's munificence. The mercenary-hero proceeds to do battle with three monsters -- a sort of Axis of Medieval.

The three beasts in the film in fact line up pretty well as stand-ins for Iraq, North Korea and Iran. Beowulf slays the first beast (Grendel/Iraq) easy enough, but he loses his soul in the process and becomes prisoner to the battle's legacy. Because of the second beast's potent demon powers, Beowulf decides not to slay it at all (Grendel's mother/North Korea). The third monster is the biggest (Iran/the Dragon), and when Beowulf finally gets around to charging its cave, the battle ends in their mutual death and the destruction of the citadel.
Nice line there, that "axis of Medieval" remark. I suspect that the entire review was constructed by Zaitchik just so he could make a great Bushwhacking pun. And those two paragraphs above are a fairly apt summary of the film . . . if one deletes the extraneous references to the Pentagon, security firms, mercenaries, Iraq, North Korea, and Iran.

Zaitchik is only half serious, and he admits that the film is not really a neoconservative allegory:
Beowulf's heroic but tragic end . . . makes it hard to fit the story into a neat neocon narrative.
Because, of course, there isn't one. Zaitchik is simply being satirical and ridiculing the film.

But the review isn't entirely satirical, and I think that Zaitchik is right about the 'homoeroticism' implicit in the film's admiration for the muscular, naked male body. In the poem, Beowulf removes his armor to take on Grendel without weapon or protection, but I don't recall him stripping down naked to wrestle the monster, so what's the motive for the movie having Beowulf remove all of his clothes except to make his muscular body an object for the fascinated gaze?

Not all gays were fascinated. One gay man reading the review wrote:
I am 100% gay living in a gay household. I thought the movie was a piss-poor adaptation of the original "Beowold." But neither I nor my friends noticed all the homoerotocism described by the author. (Razst on Nov 27, 2007 10:19 AM)
Razst needs to use spellcheck, but if he didn't see "homoerotocism," who am I to argue? Still...

But as for the anti-Christian interpretation that Zaitchik finds -- and I think seriously intends -- I disagree. Zaitchik asserts that "another of the film's notable themes . . . [is its] strident, Nietzschean anti-Christianity," for which he gives the following evidence:
This theme is unveiled in the film's early minutes, with John Malkovich's character, the venal drunk Unferth, explaining the new Roman religion to a small group in hushed tones, as if he were explaining some new street drug. "This is how it works," he says. "After you die, you wouldn't really be dead -- providing you accepted him as the one and only god."

Later, after Grendel attacks the castle, Unferth asks King Hrothgar, "Should we pray to the Roman god Christ Jesus? Perhaps he can lift our affliction." To which Hrothgar responds: "No, no, no. The gods will do nothing for us we cannot do for ourselves. What we need is a hero."

Enter the mercenary Beowulf. But even heroes are no match for the new god Jesus Christ. After the religion has gained a foothold in the land, an aging Beowulf mutters, "The age of heroes is over. The Christ god has killed it, leaving humanity with nothing but weeping martyrs, fear and shame."
If this were the film's only word on Christianity, then I'd agree in seeing the film as anti-Christian, but Unferth is an intriguing figure, for despite his unsavory character, he may, in fact, be a truth-teller, for when he questions Beowulf's tale about battling sea monsters, we know that he is at least partly correct to doubt Beowulf's story. Despite his own disreputable character, then, Unferth might be saying something 'true' about Christianity. As for Beowulf's remark about Christ having killed the age of heros, that's perhaps true enough, historically, as a metaphor expressing the passing of the old, heroic pagan culture with the coming of Christianity, but Beowulf's words are not always entirely trustworthy, as we have already noticed, and his sort of hero is concerned mostly with self-promotion anyway, even to the point of allowing some of his thanes to die first at Grendel's hands before entering the fray to act the hero and also of lying outrageously about supposedly heroic deeds that nobody else witnessed.

And I still maintain that Wealtheow, depicted in the final scenes wearing a small but shining golden cross about her neck, is the only fully admirable character in the film, suggesting to me that the director Zemeckis did not intend an anti-Christian message.

But I've already argued about this.

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Monday, November 26, 2007

"It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas..."

Cross Symbolism?
Or just annoyingly ambiguous...
(Image from Out Now)

In his excellent review of the Beowulf movie, my cypher-cyber-buddy Scott Nokes -- whom I've also met offline at a Medievalist conference here in Seoul -- wondered about the religious angle to the film:
The Christian/pagan thing never quite got worked out well. I was under the impression that the film was trying to be anti-Christian, but it never really came to thematic fruition.
Anti-Christian? I didn't get that impression, and I would be surprised if the director, Robert Zemeckis, were intending an anti-Christian film. I've read in an interview somewhere that he was raised as a Catholic by his Lithuanian father and Croatian mother. In itself, that wouldn't mean anything since one could rebel and become anti-Catholic. But in an interview with American Academy of Achievement, he's asked a question about his values:
AAA: There's a sense of quality and a value system that has infused your later work to a greater and greater degree. Where did that come from?

Robert Zemeckis: I think that was bred into me, growing up. It was really a very healthy, balanced system when I look back at it. I was sent to a Catholic school when I was in grade school, and I think in those days, the 50s, that was a bit more heavy. I carry a lot of emotional scars from that, but that's all changed now. The idea of having solid values, coupled with the reality of how the world and the system works, I think is ultimately pretty healthy, because you're not walking around completely naive.
Moreover, in addition to his movie Beowulf, Zemeckis also directed The Polar Express, which seemed to me to be a movie about faith, in which the spirit of Christmas can be experienced by those who truly believe. The official US website for The Polar Express movie says "This Holiday Season ... Believe." And there's that iconic image of the poor boy from the wrong side of town who, finally experiencing Christmas when he finds the gift that he first saw at the North Pole now waiting under his family's Christmas tree, runs out onto the porch and holds up his still-wrapped present whose bright-green ribbon forms a cross that stands out against the red-stripped wrapping, the dark night, and a world of snow.

I haven't located that image online, but in the image above, you can see the boy in the lower right looking down at his gift soon after he had first seen it in Santa's workshop. Note, as well, that the above image bears the words "If you truly believe" ... though any 'spiritual' mood is somewhat marred by the words that follow: "find all 5 stocking stuffers."

Anyway -- to get back to the Beowulf movie -- the old Germanic paganism didn't come off looking especially positive. The pagan Danes and Geats are drunken louts prone to ready sex and even readier violence. Beowulf himself, though a cut above his thanes, is not entirely reliable in word or deed despite being a hero.

The only fully admirable character in the entire story is Wealtheow, who falls for Beowulf and becomes his wife. In the latter part of the film, she has apparently converted to Christianity, for she wears a small but prominantly displayed golden cross about her neck and serves as Beowulf's conscience.

Not that this redeems the film, which remains flawed, but on the evidence, I can't say that the movie was intended as anti-Christian.

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Sunday, November 25, 2007

"I am Beowulf!" Not.

"I am Beowulf!"
Sort of...
(Image from Wikipedia)

Yesterday, I saw Beowulf.

I know that the man was Beowulf because he reminded me repeatedly, in case I should possibly forget, that he was Beowulf.

He shouted, "I am Beowulf!"

He announced it to the audience. He announced it to sea monsters. He announced it to King Hrothgar, whose realm was under attack by the monster Grendel. He announced it one time too many when he repeated it to the mysteriously-acute-of-hearing Grendel just as he was ripping off Grendel's arm. Grendel left his arm with Beowulf but took the name back to his monstrous mother, who decided that Beowulf was precisely the man whom she'd been waiting for:
"Beowulf tore off my son's arm! Wow! What a man! Gotta have him!"
Women. Who can understand them?

Anyway, Grendel's mother gets her man and bears him a mandragon, a word that I've just coined and that means either a man who is a dragon or a dragon that is a man. Anyway, this mandragon grows up surrounded by his mother's primal hoard, and in the year that marks his coming of age -- about 50, I presume -- he wings forth to slay Beowulf his father.

The 3D special effects were absolutely spectacular.

Or so I'm told. The Korean cinema where I watched the film Beowulf didn't supply the special glasses that one would need for perceiving 3D. So I sat there in my seat observing, "Oh, that would look great in 3D."

But it didn't look so great in 2D. The digital motion capture technology works better in Beowulf than it did in The Polar Express, but it doesn't yet capture emotion. The faces didn't look quite real but more like Madame Tussauds' wax images of well-known actors. In a few years, we'll all laugh at this technology's primitive state.

But since we never know when our time is coming, I've decided to laugh now.

Yet, not everything about the film is ridiculable. Some critics have faulted the movie Beowulf for not staying true to the poem Beowulf. I differ from those critics. I think that the movie takes the poem seriously but deconstructs it by suggesting that the poem was a cover-up. Yes, admits the movie, Beowulf was a hero, but those old Germanic heroes were boastful men who were not above exaggerating their genuine exploits to make them sound even more impressive. Beowulf lied in claiming to have killed Grendel's mother by piercing her repeatedly with his 'sword', though there was a real piercing and perhaps a similitude of dying ... offscreen, for the film leaves that scene to our multidimensional imagination.

Beowulf's lies haunt him and return in monstrous form -- not a mantroll this time but a mandragon, for Hrothgar, who had similarly succumbed to the monstrously beautiful succubus that had borne him Grendel, was a lesser hero than Beowulf, whose offspring was something horribly greater.

Grendel. Grendel's mother. The dragon. Thus are the monsters -- unconnected in the poem -- intimately linked through the movie, a clever reinterpretation that will get a lot of attention in upcoming Medieval conferences.

More grist for the mill...

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Sunday, November 11, 2007

"What! Have we not heard of the glory..."

Kyung Hee University
Of the High Middle Ages
(Image from The Korea Times)

The big hand on the clock has just touched the hour mark, the little hand tells me that the hour is three, and the profound, outer darkness reminds me that this hour is late.

The great MEMESAK international conference has now been over for nine hours, although we participants -- having spent two days "fighting dragons and crossing swords" -- retired to the mead hall and, until only a couple of hours ago, jubilantly celebrated our victory over the forces of darkness that "from the moor under the misty slopes came."
What! Have ye not heard of the glory
Of we Medieval scholars, warriors of golden days --
How we wrought works of valor?
Sorry. I'm waxing Medieval. My excuse? This. I had the privilege of hearing passages from a new Beowulf translation, which opens with these lines:
What! Have we not heard of the glory
Of the Spear-Danes' kings in olden days --
How the princes performed deeds of valor?
Not a few times Scyld Scefing seized
The seats of banquet from many a tribe,
Mighty opponents, and terrified the earls.
Since the time when he was found a deserted infant,
He grew up in tender care, soared to the sky,
And prospered with unparalleled honor, till
All neighboring nations over the sea came
To obey and pay tribute to him: a good king he was!
These words flowed from the lips of Professor Sung-Il Lee, of Yonsei University, who has translated the entirety of that Old English epic. Over a cup of mead (or perhaps soju), I asked him how he had managed to outdo Seamus Heaney's translation:
So. The Spear-Danes in days gone by,
and the kings who ruled them had courage and greatness.
We have heard of those princes' heroic campaigns.
There was Shield Sheafson, scourge of many tribes,
a wrecker of mead-benches, rampaging among foes.
This terror of the hall-troops had come far.
A foundling to start with, he would flourish later on
as his powers waxed and his worth was proved.
In the end each clan on the outlying coasts
beyond the whale-road had to yield to him
and begin to pay tribute. That was one good king.
So much for Mr. Heaney. In case you're wondering, the original Anglo-Saxon lines ran as follows:
Hwæt! Wé Gárdena in géardagum
þéodcyninga þrym gefrúnon·
hú ðá æþelingas ellen fremedon.
Oft Scyld Scéfing sceaþena þréatum
monegum maégþum meodosetla oftéah·
egsode Eorle syððan aérest wearð
féasceaft funden hé þæs frófre gebád·
wéox under wolcnum· weorðmyndum þáh
oð þæt him aéghwylc þára ymbsittendra
ofer hronráde hýran scolde,
gomban gyldan· þæt wæs gód cyning.
I've borrowed this original text from Benjamin Slade's great website Beowulf in Steorarume.

But you're still wondering how Professor Lee managed to render the Old English into excellent, modern lines of epic poetry that -- in my opinion -- far outdo Heaney's version. Over that cup of aforementioned sojumead, Lee explained that he had used the old dictionaries and critical texts of bygone scholars to ensure that he had clearly understood the original verse, and once he had done that for a few lines, he had "let the text possess" him and had proceeded to translate it. He had spent four-and-one-half months working from early morning till late at night without a break last fall and winter in this endeavor, and when he finished the last line at three in the morning in late February 2007, he opened for himself a bottle of soju, drank it all down, and literally "howled at the moon!"

That sounded a bit more like Grendel than Beowulf, but I toasted Professor Lee's admirable achievement, and he promised me a copy of the published text.

As for my own light-hearted presentation, which I had titled "Finding Myself Lost in Translation," people seemed to enjoy it, for they laughed a lot. I took that as a good sign, though they may simply have been laughing at me.

I should add -- last but not at all least -- that I finally met Mr. Gord Sellar, a man to whom I've been indebted ever since he came to my rescue online one fine day last year when an anonymous troll was plaguing these blog entries. Gord called the troll a "twit" and thereby helped rid Gypsy Scholar of an unwanted, gryndelig presence.

Gord can perhaps confirm whether the preposition "with" or "at" best describes how people were laughing during my presentation. Either way, thanks to Gord for his moral support during the conference and his immoral support during the postconference drinking...

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Tuesday, June 19, 2007

Christianity as Dressed-Up Paganism?

Speaking of Dressed Up...

A couple of weeks ago, as some will recall, I was invited to dinner with Park Wan-suh and her two translators because I had proofread and reviewed the English translation of her book Who Ate Up All Those Singa?

One of the translators, Yu Young-nan, gave me a book, Lee Dong-ha's Toy City, which Young-nan's daughter Kim Chi-young has translated and which Koryo Press has just published. Like Park's Singa book, Lee's Toy City is an autobiographical novel set in the poverty-stricken period following liberation from Japanese rule when the Americans and Russians defeated the Japanese.

One of the things that interested me is Lee Dong-ha's depiction of Christianity's role in South Korea during the 1950s. For some Koreans of the time, survival was possible only because the Protestant and Catholic churches provided a bit of food. But the fare was thin, as was also, at times, the spiritual nourishment, which could occasionally appear hardly Christian, as in the piety of one character, Reverend Cha, who dispenses some intriguing advice on prayer when the main character's grieving, pregnant mother inquires how to pray to Jesus:
"Reverend, will my boy's father and sister be able to come home if I believe in Jesus?" This was her last wish.

I clearly heard Reverend Cha's easy answer. "Yes. Just pray to Jesus. Then the day will come when the entire family can live together."

Mother asked again, cautiously, "How does one pray, Reverend?"

Reverend Cha replied breezily, "Do it like you would to the Wise Old Goddess of Maternity." (Lee Dong-ha, Toy City, page 136)
A fascinating reply, for it not only assumes that the mother will know exactly what this means but that such a pagan prayer to a goddess can provide an appropriate model for a Christian prayer to Jesus.

Perhaps this is the Shamanism just under the surface of Korean Christianity that many observers have claimed to glimpse.

Yet, in the history of Christianity throughout the world, this is nothing unusual -- even in its European development as Christians evangelized, for instance, the Anglo-Saxon tribes of England. Here's something that I wrote about this in my article "Praeparatio Evangelium: Beowulf as Antetype of Christ" (Journal of The Medieval and Early Modern English Studies Association of Korea, Volume 12, Number 2 (2004)):
In his History of the English Church and People, Book I, chapter 30, Bede cites the instructions that Pope Gregory the Great gave in A.D. 601 to Abbot Melitus for missionary work in England:
[T]he temples of the idols in that nation ought not to be destroyed; but let the idols that are in them be destroyed; let water be consecrated and sprinkled in the said temples, let altars be erected, and relics placed there. For if those temples are well built, it is requisite that they be converted from the worship of devils to the service of the true God; that the nation, seeing that their temples are not destroyed, may remove error from their hearts, and knowing and adoring the true God, may the more freely resort to the places to which they have been accustomed. And because they are used to slaughter many oxen in sacrifice to devils, some solemnity must be given them in exchange for this, as that on the day of the dedication, or the nativities of the holy martyrs, whose relics are there deposited, they should build themselves huts of the boughs of trees about those churches which have been turned to that use from being temples, and celebrate the solemnity with religious feasting, and no more offer animals to the Devil, but kill cattle and glorify God in their feast, and return thanks to the Giver of all things for their abundance; to the end that, whilst some outward gratifications are retained, they may the more easily consent to the inward joys. For there is no doubt that it is impossible to cut off every thing at once from their rude natures; because he who endeavours to ascend to the highest place rises by degrees or steps, and not by leaps. Thus the Lord made Himself known to the people of Israel in Egypt; and yet He allowed them the use, in His own worship, of the sacrifices which they were wont to offer to the Devil, commanding them in His sacrifice to kill animals, to the end that, with changed hearts, they might lay aside one part of the sacrifice, whilst they retained another; and although the animals were the same as those which they were wont to offer, they should offer them to the true God, and not to idols; and thus they would no longer be the same sacrifices. This then, dearly beloved, it behoves you to communicate to our aforesaid brother, that he, being placed where he is at present, may consider how he is to order all things. God preserve you in safety, most beloved son (A. M. Sellar, tr., Bede's Ecclesiastical History of England, A Revised Translation (London: George Bell and Sons, 1907), Book 1, Chapter 30).
As in Beowulf, the 'gods' are suppressed and demonized, and new content is added, but the old forms and much of the familiar world remains. Interesting in this context are Bede's remarks elsewhere about the origin of the Anglo-Saxon term for "Easter," linking it to Eostre/Eastre, an Anglo-Saxon goddess of the rising sun (Venerable Bede, De Temporum Rationale, 1.5). In this instance, the name has been preserved but applied to Christ's resurrection.

Note that in the quotation above, Gregory the Great cites the Old Testament as providing a precedent for grafting Christianity onto pagan practices, a rhetorical move that allows for a bivalent reading of paganism. (Hodges, "Praeparatio," pages 321-323)
I suppose, therefore, that if one is going to see Korean Christianity as pagan Shamanism in disguise, then one could call European Christianity merely Euro-paganism in disguise, which is precisely what the Protestant Reformers claimed about the Roman Catholic Church. The Reformers, of course, fractured European Christianity into broken parts through their quest for spiritual purity and political power, so there's no little irony that in their mission work throughout the world, the various Protestant groups have largely come to see the necessity of grafting Christianity onto the more 'acceptable' pagan practices that they encounter. Even tiny Bible colleges in the U.S. offer courses on the anthropology of missions that teach future missionaries how to present Christianity in ways that are culturally acceptable to the non-Christians whom they are trying to convert.

Now that Europe is 'post-Christian' -- as some claim, anyway -- and Christians turn to thoughts of re-Christianizing that continent, they face a rising Islam there within the neopagan secularism that otherwise pervades European culture. Faced with a daunting task, they aren't giving up, and they might even gather their courage from Philip Jenkins's recent work, as his article in Foreign Policy, "Europe's Christian Comeback" (June 2007), currently makes clear:
In fact, the rapid decline in the continent’s church attendance over the past 40 years may have done Europe a favor. It has freed churches of trying to operate as national entities that attempt to serve all members of society. Today, no church stands a realistic chance of incorporating everyone. Smaller, more focused bodies, however, can be more passionate, enthusiastic, and rigorously committed to personal holiness. To use a scientific analogy, when a star collapses, it becomes a white dwarf -- smaller in size than it once was, but burning much more intensely. Across Europe, white-dwarf faith communities are growing within the remnants of the old mass church.

Perhaps nowhere is this more true than within European Catholicism, where new religious currents have become a potent force. Examples include movements such as the Focolare, the Emmanuel Community, and the Neocatechumenate Way, all of which are committed to a re-evangelization of Europe. These movements use charismatic styles of worship and devotion that would seem more at home in an American Pentecostal church, but at the same time they are thoroughly Catholic. Though most of these movements originated in Spain and Italy, they have subsequently spread throughout Europe and across the Catholic world. Their influence over the younger clergy and lay leaders who will shape the church in the next generation is surprisingly strong.

Similar trends are at work within the Protestant churches of Northern and Western Europe. The most active sections of the Church of England today are the evangelical and charismatic parishes that have, in effect, become megachurches in their own right. These parishes have been incredibly successful at reaching out to a secular society that no longer knows much of anything about the Christian faith. Holy Trinity Brompton, a megaparish in Knightsbridge, London, that is now one of Britain’s largest churches, is home to the amazingly popular "Alpha Course," a means of recruiting potential converts through systems of informal networking aimed chiefly at young adults and professionals. As with the Catholic movements, the course works because it makes no assumptions about any prior knowledge: Everyone is assumed to be a new recruit in need of basic teaching. Nor does the recruitment technique assume that people live or work in traditional settings of family or employment. The Alpha Course is successfully geared for postmodern believers in a postindustrial economy.

Alongside these older Christian communities are hugely energetic immigrant congregations. On a typical Sunday, half of all churchgoers in London are African or Afro-Caribbean. Of Britain’s 10 largest megachurches, four are pastored by Africans. Paris has 250 ethnic Protestant churches, most of them black African. Similar trends are found in Germany. Booming Christian churches in Africa and Asia now focus much of their evangelical attention on Europe. Nigerian and Congolese ministers have been especially successful, but none more so than the Ukraine-based ministry of Nigerian evangelist Sunday Adelaja. He has opened more than 300 churches in 30 countries in the last 12 years and now claims 30,000 (mainly white) followers.
Well, that's certainly interesting, and a different perspective on Europe's religious future than one glimpses from the viewpoints of those many other commentors who see an Islamic future for Europe. Even the secularists are coming around as they come to appreciate Europe's Christian inheritance when faced by the great cultural difference and challenge that Islam presents:
The result has been a rediscovery of the continent’s Christian roots, even among those who have long disregarded it, and a renewed sense of European cultural Christianity. Jürgen Habermas, a veteran leftist German philosopher stunned his admirers not long ago by proclaiming, "Christianity, and nothing else, is the ultimate foundation of liberty, conscience, human rights, and democracy, the benchmarks of Western civilization. To this day, we have no other options [than Christianity]. We continue to nourish ourselves from this source. Everything else is postmodern chatter."
Prompting Jenkins to remark that if a Marxist like Habermas can praise Christianity, then:
Europe may be confronting the dilemmas of a truly multifaith society, but with Christianity poised for a comeback, it is hardly on the verge of becoming an Islamic colony.
Is Jenkins right? Faced by Islam, a culturally contextual re-Christianization of neo-pagan Europe? That would take a miracle!

Sometimes, however, miracles do happen, as in the case of the fortunate Mr. Paul Potts, a mobile phone salesman from South Wales whose dream was to sing opera.

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Monday, November 27, 2006

A pretty decent nonplagiarized essay...

Jesus as Pantokrator
6th-Century Mosaic
Ravenna, Italy
The Christ, but no Christian hero?
(Image from Wikipedia)

... has landed on my desk, and since I bemoan the work of the cheaters, then I ought to praise the work of the honest, especially if it aims high and does well.

This particular essay begins so well that I initially thought that it must indicate yet another instance of plagiarism:
Controversy swept over Christians around the world as the Harry Potter books became international bestsellers. Was it a dangerous book that could influence people, especially young children, to confuse the fundamental beliefs of Christianity with the fictional but pagan ideas from the world of magic? Or was it just a children's fantasy story that didn't deserve such a huge reaction? Even now, as the seventh Harry Potter book is yet to be released, some people claim that it is anti-Christian because it explains the world order in laws of magic that holds no room for Christian doctrines. Others say that it actually promotes Christian values such as love, courage to do what is just, and forgiveness. Similarly, Beowulf is often among heated controversy on whether he is a Christian or pagan hero figure, as there are frequent references to the Bible and acknowledgements of one divine God that rules the earth in the text. In this essay, I will try to prove in a completely textual perspective that Beowulf in Beowulf cannot be identified as a Christian hero in comparison to Gawain in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight because Beowulf dissatisfies the crucial conditions of a Christian hero that are visible in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight.
I'm not sure that one can properly use "dissatisfy" in this impersonal sense. Ordinarily, the word puts emphasis upon the mood of a disappointed individual, not upon an abstract failure to meet criteria, but this provides such a useful extension of the word's semantic range -- by concisely capturing the sense of the wordier phrase "fails to satisfy" -- that I'm nearly willing to accept it.

In fact, I think that I will accept it, and for all I know, my student's usage might even, technically, be correct. Anyway, I'm feeling generous due to the overall good writing and the student's mastery of the engaging introduction.

That said, I don't happen to agree with this student's thesis, and the paper goes on to define "Christian hero" too narrowly as "a hero who is a Christian." As I point out to my student, this definition would exclude King David and every other Old Testament hero, who are -- admittedly -- not themselves Christian but who are certainly heros to Christians. It would even exclude that greatest of heros revered by Christians: Jesus himself. He may have been the Christ, but he was no Christian.

Ultimately, this narrow definition detracts from the student's otherwise fine effort because it makes the analytical job too easy. All that one need do is show that the hero Beowulf is not a Christian, and one has proved that he is not a Christian hero.

That might work -- in a bare, technical sense -- but it ignores as irrelevant all the interesting things that one might otherwise notice concerning Beowulf's status as a symbol of Christ.

Thus, the paper can't quite achieve the highest mark, but it's nonetheless a joy to read.

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Tuesday, October 17, 2006

The Marmot has a bowel movement...

Beowulf Fights the Dragon
Illustration by J. R. Skelton
(New York: E. P. Dutton & Company, 1908)
(Image from Wikipedia)

The Marmot had the living 'sheet' scared out of him in a civil defense drill yesterday. I admit that I was worried myself. Seoul is only about 20 miles from the DMZ, so one of Kim Jong-il's state-of-the-art nuclear boomlets hefted onto a cart and hauled from the North by a donkey could reach Seoul in about seven hours.

So when the sirens started, I figured that I had just about enough time to finish my two afternoon lectures, take the subway home, do my exercises, drink a couple of ice-cold beers, have dinner, and tutor my two kids in English before taking shelter under some protective blankets until morning.

I seem to have survived.

I recall these drills from 1995, so when the sirens started at a little past 2:00 p.m., I knew exactly what was happening. As the sirens wailed on and on, the young students in my Medieval literature course looked around at each other, clueless, so I told them that Kim Jong-il was attacking. That got some nervous laughter. About that time, the screaming jets flew over low, and actual fear crossed some of their faces.

"Those are the missiles," I said, eliciting still more fear.

Then, I laughed and went on teaching ... though I considered reminding them of this heartening statement:

"Wyrd oft nereð unfaégne eorl þonne his ellen déah."

These are Beowulf's words to Unferth after the latter has questioned the hero's ability to defeat the monster Grendel, and they can be found in lines 572b-573 of the manuscript. Translated, they say:
"Fate often spares an undoomed man if his courage endures."
Still ... if the missiles were actually falling all around, then like The Marmot, I just might need a new pair of britches myself.

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Sunday, September 10, 2006

Beowulf as Antetype of Christ: Addendum

(Image from Wikipedia)

In preparing for my lecture in Medieval Literature this week, I re-read the first 661 lines of Beowulf. and noticed something that fits with my typological interpretation of the hero Beowulf as an antetype of Christ.

In lines 86 through 169, the demonic monster Grendel is introduced and described by the narrator as a malignant, God-cursed fiend out of hell who wreaks destruction on the pre-Christian Danes in his hatred against the court poet for singing of the Almighty's great acts in creating the world.

In lines 170-178, the Danes react by taking counsel in their high meetings and even by seeking help at their pagan shrines, which the narrator comments upon in lines 178-188.

Here's the text of lines 170 through 188, borrowed from Benjamin Slade's transcription at Steorarume, along with a translation slightly adapted from the same site -- and note that I use a right slash to indicate the midline caesura of Old English poetry:
170

Þæt wæs wraéc micel / wine Scyldinga,
That was great misery / for the Friend of the Scyldings,

171

módes brecða. / Monig oft gesæt
a breaking of his spirit. / Many often sat

172

ríce tó rúne· / raéd eahtedon·
the mighty at counsel; / pondered a plan,

173

hwæt swíðferhðum / sélest waére
what by strong-minded men / would be best,

174

wið faérgryrum / tó gefremmanne·
against the sudden horror, / to do;

175

hwílum híe gehéton / æt hærgtrafum
sometimes they pledged / at holy temples

176

wígweorþunga· / wordum baédon
sacred honouring, / in words bid

177

þæt him gástbona / géoce gefremede
that them the soul-slayer / would offer succour

178

wið þéodþréaum· / swylc wæs þéaw hyra·
from the plight of the people; / such was their habit:

179

haéþenra hyht· / helle gemundon
the hope of heathens; / on hell they pondered

180

in módsefan· / metod híe ne cúþon
in the depths of their hearts; / the Creator they did not know,

181

daéda démend· / ne wiston híe drihten god
the Judge of deeds, / they were not aware of the Lord God,

182

né híe húru heofena helm / herian ne cúþon
nor yet they the Helm of the Heavens / were able to honour,

183

wuldres waldend. / Wá bið þaém ðe sceal
Glory's Wielder. / Woe be to him who must,

184

þurh slíðne níð / sáwle bescúfan
through dire terror, / thrust his soul

185

in fýres fæþm, / frófre ne wénan,
into fire's embrace; / hope not for relief,

186

wihte gewendan· / wél bið þaém þe mót
or to change at all; / well be he who may

187

æfter déaðdæge / drihten sécean
after death-day / seek the Lord

188

ond tó fæder fæþmum / freoðo wilnian.
and in his Father's arms / desire peace.
Borrowing from the online Old English dictionary of Bosworth and Toller, I've altered Slade's translation a bit. In line 177, he translates "gástbona" as "demon-slayer," by which I suppose that he means "one who slays demons" (though he might mean "demon that slays"). I take "gástbona" to mean "soul-slayer." More oddly, Slade translates "freoðo wilnian" in line 188 as "yearn towards Nirvana," a rendering that must be part of Slade's attempt to find Indogermanic parallels to Hindu beliefs. I translate "freoðo wilnian" as "desire peace."

Anyway, what I find interesting -- for my Beowulf as Christ-antetype -- is that after the poem's description of Grendel as a fiend from hell who attacks the Danes after hearing their song about the Almighty's creative acts, after the Danes' despair and attempts to placate Satan, after the narrator's promise that those who seek the Father will find peace, the hero Beowulf enters the poem in lines 194 and following, intent upon finding, fighting, and defeating Grendel.

As Grendel is a type of Satan, so is Beowulf a type of Christ.

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Thursday, August 10, 2006

Still spinning my wheels...

A Breaking Wheel
College Shield
(Your Wheel O'Fortune Spun at Wikipedia)

A form that I'm filling out requires that I also detail the fortunes of my future research ... a request that seems odd to me since I haven't done that research yet. It's future, dammit.

So I've explained to the fine people who formulate forms that I will note some of my recent research and indicate how themes broached in that research will be explored further. I hope that this spin on a response satisfies them. What follows is the section in which I describe some work on the Old English epic Beowulf.

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In December 2004, I published an article on Beowulf titled "Praeparatio Evangelium: Beowulf as Antetype of Christ" in the journal Medieval and Early Modern English Studies (Vol. 12, No. 2), in which I disputed Harold Bloom's claim in his introduction to Beowulf: Modern Critical Interpretations (New York: Chelsea House, 1987) that "No one reading the poem would find Beowulf to be a particularly Christian hero" and demonstrated that Beowulf is indeed a Christian hero because he serves in the poem as an antetype of Christ.

A summary of my article is forthcoming in Craig R. Davis, "The Year's Work in Old English Studies 2004," Old English Newsletter 39.2 (2007). Among other points, Davis states:
Hodges notes typological foreshadowings of the Passion in the dragon-fight episode: (1) the hero approaches the barrow with eleven followers, the twelfth being the Judas-like "thief" (line 2219a) who provoked the dragon's attack; and (2) the hero is aided by his leofa 'beloved' retainer Wiglaf (line 2745a), recalling the similarly agapa 'beloved' disciple John (John 13.23, 19.26, and 21.20) who stands by his lord until his death on the cross.
I cite Davis's words here because they indicate a line of research to follow up, namely, the parallels between Beowulf's dragon fight and Christ's passion. My article noted these points, but more research could be done on the identical number of men who accompany Beowulf and Christ toward their confrontations with death and on the similar words leofa and agapa, respectively, for describing Wiglaf and John. Research on these would entail comparing narrative structures, character functions, and lexical terms.
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I've spent my entire summer tortuously spinning my wheels on things like this and still haven't found the time to do my own research! I had planned to write two articles before the semester begins, one on Milton and the other on ... on something or other...

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