Anglo-Saxon poetry
Historical and Cultural Basis
• Various groups and influences on British Isles:
Celts, Romans, Angles & Saxons & Jutes,
Normans
• Division to Unification:
Divided clans governed by a unified force
[Roman Empire & King Alfred (Christianity)]
Eventually solidified under the Norman King,
William the Conqueror, in 1066
o Oral to Written
Literary Concepts & Devices
• The Scop (the poet-singer and later the
Christian monk recording the tale) would have
used various techniques [many of which are
already familiar] to craft the epic tale.
o Epic: meaning what? What are the
constructs of an epic poem?
The Kenning as Variation
• A Kenning is derived from Norse and Anglo-Saxon
poetry. It is a stylistic device and can be defined
as a metaphorical (very often of two words and
may be hyphenated) phrase that replaces a
concrete noun.
– The ring giver = the king
– Whale-road = the sea
• Variation: substitution of different appositives to
reference something that comes before: adds
meaning, develops definition, creates function
Synecdoche & Metonymy
• Synecdoche refers to the whole of a thing by the
name of any one of its parts. For example, “all
hands on deck” is a synecdoche because the
“hands” are part of the person and stands for the
whole human.
• Metonymy, however, is when the word we use to
describe another thing is closely linked to that
particular thing, but is not necessarily a part of it.
For example, “crown” that refers to power or
authority is a metonymy used to replace the
word “king” or “queen,” or “the White House” as
a representation of the U.S. government.
Caesura
• A natural pause in a line of poetry. In A-S
poetry, a caesura tends to divide a four-stress
line in half which provides pacing and rhythm.
Type, Tone, & Theme [motif]
Poetry lends itself to a variety of purposes and
tones. This relies upon subject, occasion,
audience, and purpose.
T P C A S T T
Understanding &
Interpreting
Poetry
• T = title: 1st read; what could it mean
• P = paraphrase: read through; what do you know?
What do you need to know to make meaning?
• C = connotation: diction and ALL poetic devices
• A = attitude: tone; how does the speaker feel
towards the subject(s) / audience
• S = shift: do(es) the subject change? The tone? The
mood? Where? How shown? What is the impact?
• T = title for a 2nd time; relevant change?
• T = theme: what is the universal message conveyed
through this poem about the condition of man?
“The Seafarer”
Translated by
Burton Raffel
[pages 18-25]
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This tale is true, and mine. It tells
How the sea took me, swept me back
And forth in sorrow and fear and pain,
Showed me suffering in a hundred ships,
In a thousand ports, and in me. It tells
Of smashing surf when I sweated in the cold
Of an anxious watch, perched in the bow
As it dashed under cliffs. My feet were cast
In icy bands, bound with frost,
With frozen chains, and hardship groaned
Around my heart. Hunger tore
At my sea-weary soul. No man sheltered
On the quiet fairness of earth can feel
How wretched I was, drifting through winter
On an ice-cold sea, whirled in sorrow,
Alone in a world blown clear of love,
Hung with icicles . The hailstorms flew.
The only sound was the roaring sea,
The freezing waves. The song of the swan
Might serve for pleasure, the cry of the sea-fowl,
The death-noise of birds instead of laughter,
The mewing of gulls instead of mead.
Storms beat on the rocky cliffs and were echoed
By icy-feathered terns and the eagle’s screams;
No kinsman could offer comfort there,
To a soul left drowning in desolation.
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35
40
And who could believe, knowing but
The passion of cities, swelled proud with wine
And no taste of misfortune, how often, how wearily,
I put myself back on the paths of the sea.
Night would blacken; it would snow from the north;
Frost bound the earth and hail would fall,
The coldest seeds. And how my heart
Would begin to beat, knowing once more
The salt waves tossing and the towering sea!
The time for journeys would come and my soul
Called me eagerly out, sent me over
The horizon, seeking foreigners’ homes.
But there isn’t a man on earth so proud,
So born to greatness, so bold with his youth,
Grown so brave, or so graced by God,
That he feels no fear as the sails unfurl,
Wondering what Fate has willed and will do.
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50
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60
No harps ring in his heart, no rewards,
No passion for women, no worldly pleasures,
Nothing, only the ocean’s heave;
But longing wraps itself around him.
Orchards blossom, the towns bloom,
Fields grow lovely as the world springs fresh,
And all these admonish that willing mind
Leaping to journeys, always set
In thoughts traveling on a quickening tide.
So summer’s sentinel, the cuckoo, sings
In his murmuring voice, and our hearts mourn
As he urges. Who could understand,
In ignorant ease, what we others suffer
As the paths of exile stretch endlessly on?
And yet my heart wanders away,
My soul roams with the sea, the whales’
Home, wandering to the widest corners
Of the world, returning ravenous with desire,
Flying solitary, screaming, exciting me
To the open ocean, breaking oaths
On the curve of a wave.
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70
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Thus the joys of God
Are fervent with life, where life itself
Fades quickly into the earth. The wealth
Of the world neither reaches to Heaven nor remains.
No man has ever faced the dawn
Certain which of Fate’s three threats
Would fall: illness, or age, or an enemy’s
Sword, snatching the life from his soul.
The praise the living pour on the dead
Flowers from reputation: plant
An earthly life of profit reaped
Even from hatred and rancor, of bravery
Flung in the devil’s face, and death
Can only bring you earthly praise
And a song to celebrate a place
With the angels, life eternally blessed
In the hosts of Heaven.
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The days are gone
When the kingdoms of earth flourished in glory;
Now there are no rulers, no emperors,
No givers of gold, as once there were,
When wonderful things were worked among them
And they lived in lordly magnificence.
Those powers have vanished, those pleasures are dead.
The weakest survives and the world continues,
Kept spinning by toil. All glory is tarnished.
The world’s honor ages and shrinks.
Bent like the men who mould it. Their faces
Blanch as time advances, their beards
Wither and they mourn the memory of friends.
The sons of princes, sown in the dust.
The soul stripped of its flesh knows nothing
Of sweetness or sour, feels no pain,
Bends neither its hand nor its brain. A brother
Opens his palms and pours down gold
On his kinsman’s grave, strewing his coffin
With treasures intended for Heaven, but nothing
Golden shakes the wrath of God
For a soul overflowing with sin, and nothing
Hidden on earth rises to Heaven.
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We all fear God. He turns the earth,
He set it swinging firmly in space,
Gave life to the world and light to the sky.
Death leaps at the fools who forget their God.
He who lives humbly has angels from Heaven
To carry him courage and strength and belief.
A man must conquer pride, not kill it,
Be firm with his fellows, chaste for himself,
Treat all the world as the world deserves,
With love or with hate but never with harm,
Though an enemy seek to scorch him in hell,
Or set the flames of a funeral pyre
Under his lord. Fate is stronger
And God mightier than any man’s mind.
Our thoughts should turn to where our home is,
Consider the ways of coming there,
Then strive for sure permission for us
To rise to that eternal joy,
That life born in the love of God
And the hope of Heaven. Praise the Holy
Grace of Him who honored us,
Eternal, unchanging creator of earth. Amen.
Comprehension Questions
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Making Meanings
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First Thoughts
1. What is your first impression of the speaker in this poem? What is his life like?
What does he believe in and hope for?
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Shaping Interpretations
2. What passages in the poem explain why the seafarer seeks the rigors of the sea
rather than the delights of the land? Does he find what he looked for at sea?
3. Lines 58–64 suggest that the poet is beginning to talk about the glories of
adventuring at sea, but then he changes direction. What does he turn his attention
to over the next sixteen lines?
4. In line 80, the speaker begins to talk about the present state of the world—what
does he think of it? How do these thoughts contribute to the poem’s elegiac
tone?
5. The poem ends with a statement of the poet’s beliefs. What are they?
6. This short lyric is full of striking metaphors—for example, “frozen chains” in line
10. Select three of these metaphors, and explain what is being compared in each
one. What emotional effect does each metaphor create?
7. What do you think the seafarer is searching for?
• Connecting with the Text
• 8. In line 88, the poem’s speaker says, “All glory is
tarnished.” Do you think this idea also applies to
today’s heroes and to present-day life? Explain
your response.
• Extending the Text
• 9. Could the sentiments expressed in this poem
be applied to the homeless today? Find passages
in the poem to support your answer.
from Beowulf
As Translated by
Seamus Heaney
Beowulf
Translation by Seamus Heaney
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.
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Afterwards a boy-child was born to Shield,
A cub in the yard, a comfort sent
By God to that nation. He knew what they had tholed,
The long times and troubles they’d come through
Without a leader; so the Lord of Life,
The glorious Almighty, made this man renowned.
Shield had fathered a famous son:
Beow’s name was known through the north.
And a young prince must be prudent like that,
Giving freely while his father lives
So that afterwards in age when fighting starts
Steadfast companions will stand beside him
And hold the line. Behavior that’s admired
Is the path to power among people everywhere.
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Shield was still thriving when his time came
And he crossed over into the Lord’s keeping.
His warrior band did what he bade them
When he laid down the law among the Danes:
They shouldered him out to the sea’s flood,
The chief they revered who had long ruled them.
A ring-whorled prow rode in the harbour,
Ice-clad, outbound, a craft for a prince.
They stretched their beloved lord in his boat,
Laid out by the mast, amidships,
The great ring-giver. Far-fetched treasures
Were piled upon him, and precious gear.
I never heard before of a ship so well furbished
With battle tackle, bladed weapons
And coats of mail.
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The massed treasure
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Was loaded on top of him: it would travel far
On out into the ocean’s sway.
They decked his body no less bountifully
With offerings than those first ones did
Who cast him away when he was a child
And launched him alone out over the waves.
And they set a gold standard up
High above his head and let him drift
To wind and tide, bewailing him
And mourning their loss. No man can tell,
No wise man in hall or weathered veteran
Knows for certain who salvaged that load.
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Then it fell to Beow to keep the forts.
He was well regarded and ruled the Danes
For a long time after his father took leave
Of his life on earth. And then his heir,
The great Halfdane, held sway
For as long as he lived, their elder and warlord.
He was four times a father, this fighter prince:
One by one they entered the world,
Heorogar, Hrothgar, the good Halga
And a daughter, I have heard, who was Onela’s queen,
A balm in bed to the battle-scarred Swede.
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The fortunes of war favored Hrothgar.
Friends and kinsmen flocked to his ranks,
Young followers, a force that grew
To be a mighty army. So his mind turned
To hall-building: he handed down orders
For men to work on a great mead-hall
Meant to be a wonder of the world forever;
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It would be his throne-room and there he would dispense
His God-given goods to young and old--But not the common land or people’s lives.
Far and wide through the world, I have heard,
Orders for work to adorn that wall stead
Were sent to many peoples. And soon it stood there,
Finished and ready, in full view,
The hall of halls. Heorot was the name
He had settled on it, whose utterance was law.
Nor did he renege, but doled out rings
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And torques at the table. The hall towered,
Its gables wide and high and awaiting
A barbarous burning. That doom abided,
But in time it would come: the killer instinct
Unleashed among in-laws, the blood-lust rampant.
Herot Attacked
Then a powerful demon, a prowler through the dark,
Nursed a hard grievance. It harrowed him
To hear the din of the loud banquet
Every day in the hall, the harp being struck
And the clear song of a skilled poet
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Telling with mastery of man’s beginnings,
How the Almighty had made the earth
A gleaming plain girdled with waters;
In His splendor He set the sun and moon
To be earth’s lamplight, lanterns for men,
And filled the broad lap of the world
With branches and leaves; and quickened life
In every other thing that moved.