Intl Journal of Public Administration, 28: 503–516, 2005 Copyright © Taylor & Francis Inc. ISSN 0190-0692 print / 1532-4265 online DOI: 10.1081/PAD-200055208 Napierkowski 503 Beowulf: The Heroic, The Monstrous, and Anglo-Saxon Concepts of Leadership Thomas J. Napierkowski Professor of English, University of Colorado at Colorado Springs, Colorado Springs, CO, USA Abstract: The poem Beowulf highlights the leader’s heroic role, and is one of the premier examples of literature as a form of leadership instruction. The heroic ideal is one in which leaders are defined by their ability to live in harmony with both the laws and noble norms of society, to overcome opposition, and to demonstrate the acquisition of virtue by the way the live. They are readily recognized as a contrast to the evils they oppose. At the same time, heroic leaders are exemplars for their followers, and receive much of their power by personifying the virtues to which both they and their followers are committed. Leadership thus unfolds in a net of shared expectations, well-defined and noble ideals, and demonstrated accomplishments. In this, the medieval and Anglo-Saxon ideals are wondrously modern. He led them to the right of the dancing trees—whether they were still dancing nobody knew, for Lucy had her eyes on the Lion and the rest had their eyes on Lucy.[1] The simple quotation above, taken from C.S. Lewis’s Prince Caspian, goes a long way toward defining not only this notable author and literary critic’s ideas about leadership but also about the manner in which literature itself— and medieval literature in particular—addresses the discussion and promotion of leadership. This paper will analyze one particular ideal of leadership which dominates early medieval literature and will suggest a significant way in which that ideal differs from many contemporary theories. All societies and cultures in the history of the world, even in their earliest stages, have, to the best of our knowledge, produced literature. The reasons for this are both simple and profound: literature gives pleasure while it instructs. In every society, but perhaps most importantly in early societies, the instruction provided by literature ranges from information on the planting and Napierkowski 504 harvesting of crops to a reiteration of the history and values of the society. Almost exclusively this function of literature is achieved through storytelling and example, a form of instruction which, even today, is more powerful and pervasive than most realize; indeed, most of our behavior is a form of modeling. Some of the most fundamental lessons of literature address the concepts of leadership and responsibility in society. In stories of prose and poetry, literature defines, models, and fosters the concepts of leaders and followers for readers and listeners alike. A study of medieval examples of such literature can provide valuable insights into the praxis between literature and leadership and into concepts of leadership that have been neglected or lost in the recent centuries. In other words, such a study rewards one with a better understanding of the content of the literature under review and with an alterity of vision on theories of leadership. In the early Middle Ages of northwestern Europe, literary discussions of leadership are found primarily within the context of the heroic tradition. The Germanic tribesmen who occupied these regions had limited contact with Mediterranean civilization and were, first and foremost, warriors. They worshipped rugged and often angry war gods like Woden and Thor; and their religion was marked by a cold gloom. The virtues promoted by this religion were military in nature, stressing bravery, strength, and obedience; and whatever hope there was for even a brief life after death was reserved for those killed in battle. Such heroes, it was believed, were carried away to Valhalla, the palace of Woden, where they feasted with the gods, who were themselves mortal, until the Gotterdammerung, or the twilight of the gods. These Germanic warriors were organized into tribe-like units, which the Roman historian Tacitus in his study of the people and region, the Germania, termed the comitatus. The leader of the comitatus was the group’s most accomplished warrior, the cyning (the source of the English word “king”). Chosen exclusively for his prowess as a leader and warrior, the cyning had two great responsibilities. Put as simply as possible, in times of war, he was expected to lead his warriors into battle regardless of dangers or odds. Tacitus says: “When the battlefield is reached it is a reproach for a chief to be surpassed in prowess.”[2] In times of peace, the cyning was to care for his people, especially his warriors or thanes, generously and wisely. The locus of the cyning’s authority was his mead hall. Here, he provided his band of followers with food and drink, bestowed various gifts upon them, and administered justice. For their part, the warriors of the comitatus, the thanes, repaid the cyning’s generosity with unwavering loyalty. Here again, Tacitus accurately describes the nature of the relationship: . . . it is a reproach for his [the cyning’s] retinue not to equal the prowess of its chief: but to have left the field and survived one’s chief, this means lifelong infamy and shame: to protect and defend him, to devote one’s own feats even to his glorification, this is the gist of their allegiance: the chief fights for victory, but the retainers for the chief.[3] Napierkowski 505 Beowulf: Concepts of Leadership The cyning’s bestowal of gifts on his thanes and his feasting with them acknowledged their worth and his own generosity; the thanes’ acceptance of the cyning’s graciousness constituted their pledge of loyalty to him. Thus, the ties of the comitatus were presented and understood primarily in martial terms; but, in truth, the bonds established within the comitatus not only extended into times of peace; they were aimed at insuring peace, tranquility, and well-being. Perhaps no other piece of early medieval literature illustrates the Anglo-Saxon ideal of the comitatus and, consequently, of leadership, better than Beowulf, the Old English epic composed about the year 725. So great is the power of this poem that even today it commands the attention of readers. When Seamus Heaney, the Irish Nobel Laureate, recently translated the poem into Modern English, his version climbed into the best sellers list on both sides of the Atlantic. It further shocked both the public and the literary establishment by winning the coveted Whitbread Prize, one of the longest running and most coveted book awards in the United Kingdom, outstripping even the enormously popular and best-selling Harry Potter novels. For the purpose of these remarks, Beowulf is a particularly illuminating piece of literature for several reasons. For one thing, it illustrates not only the Anglo-Saxon ideal of leadership as embodied in a legendary hero, Beowulf; it also models, in the person of Beowulf as a thane, the duties of the ideal Anglo-Saxon follower. This in itself is an important consideration; for the medieval world seems to have believed that leadership could not even be discussed intelligently without addressing in the same breath the obligations, duties, and privileges of followers. Surely, the achievements of leaders are best measured by the responses of their followers; and these achievements, in turn, are clarified by a better appreciation of the expectations and rewards of their followers. At another level, Beowulf is also ideal for a study of one of the important ideas of leadership in the Middle Ages because, unlike most works of literature, it also defines, in the adversaries that Beowulf must conquer, the Anglo-Saxon understanding of the monstrous—the model of the anti-hero and the antithesis of the good leader. Such presentations of the monstrous are embodied primarily in Grendel and Grendel’s dam, Beowulf’s chief opponents in the first half of the poem who are at least quasi-supernatural in nature and origin; but they also are revealed in allusions to bad cynings such as Heremod. A closer examination of the poem should clarify these points. First, however, a brief synopsis of the poem is in order. The story of the poem is simple enough. A Geatish (the area of southern Scandinavia) hero named Beowulf takes on three mortal challenges. Although a thane of the Geatish court, Beowulf seeks out the first two adventures in order to rescue the Danish king Hrothgar and his people from the unrelenting attacks of the trolllike monster Grendel. After repulsing Grendel’s attack on the Danish court and mortally wounding Grendel in battle, Beowulf then delivers the Danes from the revenge of Grendel’s dam. Years later, an elderly Beowulf, now himself king of the Geats, defends his own people from the attacks of a Napierkowski 506 fire-breathing dragon; and although successful in killing the dragon, Beowulf is himself fatally wounded in the encounter. Here, it would seem, is the matter of fairy tales, not epic poetry and sophisticated culture; yet the experience of the poem throughout the centuries—its organic, indeed synergistic, union of theme, style, and language (what Seamus Heaney has described as the “the cadence and force of earned wisdom”)—belies such a conclusion. As the above summary suggests, structurally Beowulf consists of two sections. The first section of the poem, approximately up to line 2200, presents Beowulf the young man—Beowulf the thane—in his first two adventures. The remainder of the poem presents Beowulf the old man, Beowulf the cyning. Thus, the poem models for its audience in its hero, Beowulf, both sides of the comitatus ideal: the identity and duties of the thane and the identity and duties of the cyning, plus the general responsibilities of youth versus those of old age. This, however, does not do justice to the complexity and sophistication of the work. In the first section of the poem, other contrasts are also presented to rein reinforce the message of the poem, the heroic ideal, and the Anglo-Saxon model of leadership. Thus, for example, although the primary focus of the poem in this section is on Beowulf the thane, the concept of kingship is addressed in the persons of Hrothgar, the good but ineffective elderly king of the Danes, and of Hygelac, Beowulf’s lord and king of the Geats. Thus, we find examples of kings who build great halls in which they host and reward their thanes and where they dispense their God-given goods to their thanes as an indication of the merit and worthiness of these followers: 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; 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.[4] Such kings treat thanes with great respect and keep their promises. In these ways, they inspire their thanes and produce loyal followers like Beowulf the young retainer. Early in the poem, the idea is stated quite succinctly: “Behavior that’s admired / is the path to power among people everywhere.”[5] In this same section of the poem, negative examples also define the heroic ideal. At the level of the thane, we find in Hrothgar’s court a thane named Unferth who, before the confrontation of Beowulf with Grendel, attacks the achievements of Bewoulf’s youth but who himself does not dare to face Grendel. As Beowulf points out in his response to Unferth: Napierkowski 507 “The fact is, Unferth, if you were truly as keen or courageous as you claim to be Grendel would never have got away with such unchecked atrocity, attacks on your king, havoc in Heorot and horrors everywhere.”[6] Even more disgraceful is Unferth’s conduct toward his own companions: You killed your own kith and kin, so for all your cleverness and quick tongue, you will suffer damnation in the depths of hell.[7] Although the Anglo-Saxons lived in a warrior society, frivolous bloodshed Although the AngloSaxons lived in a warrior society, frivolous bloodshed was not heroic; and in many respects, the wanton killing of one’s own blood was the ultimate taboo within the comitatus. Such conduct contrasts markedly with that of Beowulf, who models the perfect thane. The description of his determination to assist Hrothgar establishes both Beowulf’s motive and his credentials: When he heard about Grendel, Hygelac’s thane was on home ground, over in Geatland. There was no one else like him alive. In his days, he was the mightiest man on earth, highborn and powerful. He ordered a boat that would ply the waves. He announced his plan: to sail the swan’s road and seek out that king, the famous prince who needed defenders.[8] As one might expect, Beowulf is mighty and powerful; but such gifts are not enough to qualify him as a hero. Even gifts of might and power must be employed, as they are in this case, to assist others and in the service of good. As Beowulf concludes his trip to the Hrothgar’s court, the poet stresses this point again: Thus Beowulf bore himself with valour; he was formidable in battle yet behaved with honour and took no advantage; never cut down a comrade who was drunk, kept his temper and, warrior that he was, watched and controlled his God-sent strength and his outstanding natural powers.[9] Additionally, Beowulf undertakes the challenge of Grendel not for his own glory but “to heighten Hylgelac’s fame.”[10] Perhaps the clearest description of Beowulf’s heroic credentials comes from Hrothgar himself in response to Beowulf’s offer of continued assistance if it is needed: Napierkowski 508 “The Lord in his wisdom sent you those words and they came from the heart. I have never heard so young a man make truer observations. You are strong in body and mature in mind, impressive in speech.”[11] It is, however, in contrast to the monstrous that the fullest sense of Beowulf’s heroic stature is established. In a speech of gratitude and guidance, Hrothgar presents a negative lesson on the heroic by comparing and contrasting Beowulf with Heremod, a Dane who betrayed the gifts with which he was blessed: Forever you will be your people’s mainstay and your own warriors’ helping hand. Heremod was different, the way he behaved to Ecgwela’s sons. His rise in the world brought little joy to the Danish people, only death and destruction. He vented his rage on men he caroused with, killed his own comrades, a pariah king who cut himself off from his own kind, even though Almighty God had made him eminent and powerful and marked him from the start for a happy life. But a change happened, he grew bloodthirsty, gave no more rings to honor the Danes. He suffered in the end for having plagued his people for so long: his life lost happiness. So learn from this and understand true values.[12] Heremod, like Beowulf, has been blessed by God with all the gifts necessary to become a hero; but, unlike Beowulf, he misuses these gifts and becomes, instead, an anti-hero and a failure as a leader. He not only fails to bring joy to his people; he is a source of “death and destruction.” Furthermore, he has hoarded his treasure, neglecting or refusing to give rings (i.e., ringed armor) “to honor the Danes.” Finally, like Unferth, Heremod has killed his own comrades and, as result, has “cut himself off from his own kind.” Beowulf, on the other hand, will be a “mainstay” to his people and a “helping hand” to his warriors. Thus, talents are not enough; it is the use to which one’s talents are put which establishes one’s identity as a hero. The most dramatic contrast, however, between the heroic and the monstrous is that between Beowulf and Grendel. In a series of subtle but telling contrasts between the Geatish thane and the creature that terrorizes the Danes, Napierkowski 509 the poet gives concrete examples of the differences between the heroic and the monstrous and further defines both. One fundamental contrast between the two is their fathers. When Beowulf and his followers land on the coast of the Shield Danes, they are accosted by one of Hrothgar’s guards, who demands to know their identity and mission: “What kind of men are you who arrive / rigged out for combat in your coats of mail . . . ?”[13] In his response, Beowulf announces that he and his men are Geats who serve Hygelac and identifies his own father as Ecgtheow, in his day “a famous man” and “noble warriorlord.”[14] This is not the boast of a son basking in his father’s glory, but a warrior’s identification of his father in an effort to demonstrate that he has nothing to hide and that he has a history of service to uphold. In contrast, Grendel and his dam are “fatherless creatures,” and “their whole ancestry is hidden in a past / of demons and ghosts.”[15] All that can be said with certainty is that they are descended from Cain. The heroic is open and candid; the monstrous is hidden and deceptive. As a result of their separate histories and actions, Beowulf and Grendel also live very differently. Beowulf is an honored retainer of Hygelac, the Geatish king; and, once he has identified himself, he is welcomed with enthusiasm at the court of Hrothgar, the king of the Shield Danes. Indeed, during his stay among the Danes, Beowulf is honored three times with feasts in Heorot hall, Hrothgar’s mead hall. Grendel, on the other hand, lives apart “among wolves on the hills, on windswept crags / and treacherous keshes, where cold streams / pour down the mountain and disappear under mist and moorland.”[16] Furthermore, Grendel’s visits to Heorot hall, the place where he stages his attacks on the Danes, are the occasions for mayhem and death. In a related matter, it is significant that Beowulf and his companions arrive openly during the light of day; they have no need of stealth or disguise. The Danish guard who inquires as to their business in Hrothgar’s lands comments: I have been stationed as lookout on this coast for a long time. My job is to watch the waves for raiders, any danger to the Danish shore. Never before has a force under arms disembarked so openly . . . [17] Grendel, on the other hand, is known as a “prowler through the dark”[18] because he only approaches Heorot hall at night. His attack during Beowulf’s visit is typical: “Then out of the night / came the shadow-stalker, stealthy and swift.”[19] Here again, the contrast is clear. The heroic stands up to the light of day; it has nothing to hide. The monstrous cloaks its deeds in darkness and deceptions. At a different level, the contrast between Beowulf and Grendel extends to other credentials of the heroic. Beowulf, unlike Grendel, is not only articulate; Napierkowski 510 he is eloquent. On more than one occasion, Beowulf’s addresses elicit the admiration of others (we have already seen Hrothgar’s comment that Beowulf is “impressive in speech” and that his words are wise and come “from the heart”) and demonstrate his skills as speaker. In a wonderful metaphor, the poet refers to Beowulf’s speech as his “word-hord.” Grendel, for his part, never utters a word. Indeed, there is no evidence that he even knows how to speak; he is devoid of the ability to communicate with people, thus reinforcing the separation between him and not only the world of the heroic but the human community. All this seems to suggest that the hero or leader must be articulate and that the anti-hero or monster either is unable or refuses to speak. Articulate speech, however, is not enough. As with all of his other gifts, Beowulf employs his speech in the service of others—another credential of the heroic. On the same level, another quality worth noting is Beowulf’s demeanor. He observes the decorum of Hrothgar’s court and behaves in a respectful manner even when challenged. The poet simply comments that “he knew all the courtesies.”[20] Again, Grendel underscores this quality of the heroic through contrast. We are told directly that “he would never / parley or make peace with any Dane / nor stop his death-dealing nor pay the death-price.”[21] This latter point, the refusal to use Germanic law to settle feuds peacefully, underscores Grendel’s defiant separation, and hence that of the monstrous, from the human community. Finally in this series of contrasts between Beowulf and Grendel, one other feature is so obvious that it is frequently overlooked. The death of Beowulf, in the second half of the poem, is the occasion of great sorrow, gloom, and fear that because the hero is gone, new threats and dangers will arise. Beowulf’s warriors are not only disconsolate; they “wailed aloud for their lord’s decease,”[22] and the description of Beowulf’s funeral ritual reveals the pain of the Geatish people: Then twelve warriors rode around the tomb, chieftain’s sons, champions in battle, all of them distraught, chanting in dirges, mourning his loss as a man and a king. They extolled his heroic nature and exploits and gave thanks for his greatness; which was the proper thing, for a man should praise a prince whom he holds dear and cherish his memory when the moment comes when he has to be convoyed from his bodily home. So the Geat people, his hearth companions, sorrowed for the lord who had been laid low.[23] The death of Grendel is another matter. The poet reports in typical Anglo-Saxon understatement that Grendel’s “fatal departure / was regretted by no one.”[24] The contrast with the heroic could not be stronger. Grendel dies alone, mourned only by his dam; and his death becomes an occasion of great celebration at Heorot hall, the site of his infamous attacks. Napierkowski 511 In the second section of the poem, Beowulf is an old man; and the primary focus is on the heroic ideal presented in the person of Beowulf the cyning. This ideal is presented and defined in both the words and deeds of the aged hero. Beowulf has ruled the Geats for fifty years and has brought his people peace and prosperity. Now, however, a fire-breathing dragon has begun to terrorize his land because an intruder has disturbed the treasure which the dragon has long guarded. King Beowulf takes on the task of rescuing his people from this menace, which is, of course, his duty as king: “I risked my life / often when I was young. Now I am old, / but as king of the people I shall pursue this fight.”[25] So committed is the old king to the comitatus ideal that he regards this battle solely as his responsibility and insists on undertaking this challenge alone: “Men-at-arms, remain here on the barrow, safe in your armor, to see which one of us is better in the end at bearing wounds in a deadly fray. This fight is not yours, nor is it up to any man except me to measure his strength against the monster or to prove his worth. I shall win the gold by my courage, or else mortal combat, doom of battle, will bear your lord away.”[26] Age has not diminished Beowulf’s commitment to his role as leader or to the range of duties which that role requires. In the course of his battle with the dragon, Beowulf is mortally wounded and needs assistance. All but one of his thanes, Wiglaf, run “for their lives / to the safety of the wood,”[27] thus betraying their duty and providing yet another example of the anti-heroic or monstrous. Beowulf, nonetheless, with the help of Wiglaf, slays the dragon. As he lies dying, Beowulf’s assessment of his reign provides valuable insights into the Anglo-Saxon definition of the heroic and of the role of the leader. In the first section of his speech, Beowulf places a high premium on protecting his people; but he also treasures peace and shows a respect for human life: “For fifty years / I ruled this nation. No king of any neighboring clan would dare face me with troops, none had the power to intimidate me. I took what came cared for and stood by things in my keeping, never fomented quarrels, never swore to a lie. All this consoles me, doomed as I am and sickening for death; because of my right ways, the Ruler of mankind need never blame me when the breath leaves my body for murder of kinsmen.”[28] Napierkowski 512 Speaking to Wiglaf, his loyal thane, Beowulf also insists the treasure guarded by the dragon be used for the benefit of the Geatish people: “To the everlasting Lord of all to the King of Glory, I give thanks that I behold this treasure here in front of me, that I have been allowed to leave my people so well endowed on the day I die. Now that I have bartered my last breath to own this fortune, it is up to you to look after their needs.”[29] It seems that Beowulf regards peace and prosperity as his greatest legacy. As in the first section of the poem, although one side of the comitatus relation is emphasized, the other side is also presented. The failure of all of Beowulf’s thanes but Wiglaf to come to his aid allows the poet to address the thane side of the comitatus bond in both a negative and positive manner. The fleeing thanes are monstrous in their disloyalty, and Wiglaf exemplifies the role of a heroic retainer. Furthermore, his speech of admonition to his cowardly companions defines the duties of loyal thanes, documents the conduct of a good cyning, and demonstrates that eloquence is a virtue prized by both sides in the comitatus relationship. As the poet himself comments, Wiglaf’s words are “wise and fluent”: “I remember that time when mead was flowing, how we pledged loyalty to our lord in the hall, promised our ring-giver we would be worth our price, make good the gift of the war-gear, those swords and helmets, as and when his need required it. He picked us out from the army deliberately, honoured us and judged us fit for this action, made me these lavish gifts— and all because he considered us the best of his arms-bearing thanes. And now, although he wanted this challenge to be one he’d face by himself alone—the shepherd of our land, a man unequalled in the quest for glory and a name for daring—now the day has come when this lord we serve needs sound men to give him their support. Let us go to him, help our leader through the hot flame and dread of the fire. As God is my witness, Napierkowski 513 I would rather my body were robed in the same burning blaze as my gold-giver’s body than go back home bearing arms. That is unthinkable, unless we have first slain the foe and defended the life of the prince of the Weather-Geats. I well know the things he has done for us deserve better. Why should he alone be left exposed to fall in battle? We must bond together, shield and helmet, mail-shirt and sword.”[30] Wiglaf’s remarks directly define the thane’s role in the comitatus relationship and indirectly sketch the role of the cyning. In a subsequent speech, he warns of dire consequences which will follow as a result of the behavior of his companions: “So it is good-bye now to all you know and love on your home ground, the open-handedness, and giving of war-swords. Every one of you with freeholds of land, our whole nation, will be dispossessed, once princes from beyond get tidings of how you turned and fled and disgraced yourselves. A warrior will sooner die than live a life of shame.”[31] The speeches of Beowulf and Wiglaf establish the intimate and synergistic link which binds not only the cyning and his thanes but any leader and his followers; the former cannot exist without an ethic on the part of the latter which binds them to the leader. Finally, no analysis of Beowulf for Anglo-Saxon ideals of the heroic and of leadership would be complete without an examination of the religious dimensions of the poem; and it is this aspect of the piece that provides the most significant source of alterity between medieval concepts of leadership and, incidentally, of government and modern theories. Although the religious dimensions of Beowulf are subtle and require some background, they are central to the work and to an understanding of medieval views of leadership. The author of the poem was almost certainly a well-educated Christian monk writing in the early part of the eighth century in the Anglo-Saxon kingdom of Mercia. The poem, on the other hand, is set in a pagan time and place, approximately the year 525 in Southern Sweden and the Danish Peninsula; and none of characters is a Christian or seems to know of Christianity. Despite its setting, the world of Beowulf has been modified to reflect a Christian perspective. For one the thing, both the narrator and the characters speak of "God" in the singular, whereas the original Anglo-Saxon religion, as noted above, was polytheistic. Beyond that, God is regularly presented as a Napierkowski 514 creator, a guardian, and a judge—also Christian accommodations. Furthermore, there is at least one Biblical reference, the identification of Grendel as a descendant of Cain, which is unequivocal. Other major actions and incidental details also create associations between Beowulf and Christ: Beowulf’s willingness to sacrifice himself for others, even for strangers; the loss of one of his followers during the Danish expedition; his visit to the underworld to battle Grendel’s dam; the twelve riders who circle his pyre; and the lone Geatish woman who bewails Beowulf’s death. For the sake of these remarks, however, it is the insistence that the heroic resides in the correct use of God-given gifts that is most important. That the attributes of the heroic—not just strength, power, rank, and goods, but also eloquence and wisdom—are from God should be clear from the many of the passages already cited. What bears reiteration here is that the poet insists that these gifts are to be shared and used for the benefit of one’s followers and people. Uncharacteristically, Beowulf falls into turmoil as he worries that the dragon’s attack is the result of his failure to conduct himself properly and to use his gifts well: “It threw the hero / into deep anguish and darkened his mood: / the wise man thought he must have thwarted / ancient ordinance of the eternal Lord, / broken His commandment.”[32] On the other hand, as we have also seen, his greatest consolation as he lies dying is that he is at peace with God: “because of my right ways, the Ruler of mankind / need never blame me when the breath leaves my body.”[33] As is typical in the poem, the poet also stresses this with negative examples, human and monstrous, that have failed to use their gifts well. Heremod is one example: “Almighty God had made him / eminent and powerful and marked him from the start / for a happy life.”[34] Unlike Beowulf, however, Heremod betrays these gifts by surrendering to violence and hoarding his treasure: “But a change happened, / he grew bloodthirsty, gave no more rings / to honor the Danes.”[35] In a similar fashion, Grendel and other monsters face the curse of exile because they “strove with God.”[36] Such an understanding, commonplace though it seems, signals a profound difference from many modern approaches to the heroic, to leadership, and even to government. There is nothing “absolute” about any of these concepts in the Anglo-Saxon world. They do not enjoy the prerogative to act as they please, and they are most emphatically not above the law. In a striking difference from modern assumptions, none of the above is even free to legislate as it pleases— not even, one might add, a democratic state or popularly chosen leaders. In the Anglo-Saxon view, indeed in the medieval view in general and is that of most of the classical world, leaders and governments must “administer pre-existing law.” Such law is variously understood as the law of God, eternal verities, natural law, or even custom (in the American legal system, we would say “precedent”). The hero, the leader, and the government do not create such laws; they are created by them. Expanding the words of C.S. Lewis, the author and critic whose words opened these comments, from the medieval concept of sovereignty to medieval understandings of the heroic and of leadership, Napierkowski 515 we encounter a different vision of these topics: “Its business is to enforce something that is already there, something given in the divine reason or in the existing custom. By its fidelity in reproducing that model it is to be judged. If it tries to be original, to produce new wrongs and rights in independence of the archetype, it becomes unjust and forfeits its claim to obedience.”[37] Such an understanding will, no doubt, resonate with some moderns and appall others; its alterity is certainly provocative. Less challenging is the touching final tribute of the Geatish people to their fallen leader Beowulf: They said that of all the kings upon earth he was the man most gracious and fair-minded, kindest to his people and keenest to win fame.[38] Here is perhaps the poem’s ultimate test for the heroic and for leadership, one by which all leaders, medieval and modern, can be measured. REFERENCES 1. Lewis, C.S. Prince Caspian; Collier/Macmillan: New York, 1970, 144. 2. Tacitus. Germania. Hutton, M., Trans. In Tacitus: Dialogus, Agricola, Germania; Page, T., Capps, E., Ruse, W., Post, L., Warmington, E., Eds., Harvard University Press: Cambridge, MA, 1963; 283, 285. 3. Ibid., 285. 4. Beowulf. Heaney, S., Trans. Farrar, Straus and Giroux: New York, 2000; 7, ll. 64–73. 5. Ibid., 7, ll. 24–25. 6. Ibid., 41, ll. 590–594. 7. Ibid., 41, ll. 587–589. 8. Ibid., 14, ll. 194–201. 9. Ibid., 149, ll. 2177–2183. 10. Ibid., 3, l. 435. 11. Ibid., 127, ll. 1841–1845. 12. Ibid., 117, 119, ll. 1707–1723. 13. Ibid., 17, ll. 237–238. 14. Ibid., 19, ll. 262, 263. 15. Ibid., 95, ll. 1355–1357. 16. Ibid., 95, ll. 1358–1361. 17. Ibid., 17, 19, ll. 240–245. 18. Ibid., 9, l. 86. 19. Ibid., 47, ll. 702–703. 20. Ibid., 25, l. 359. 21. Ibid., 13, ll. 154–156. 22. Ibid., 211, l. 3149. 23. Ibid., 213, ll. 3169–3179. 24. Ibid., 57, ll. 840–841. 25. Ibid., 169, 171, ll. 2511–2513. 26. Ibid., 171, ll. 2529–2537. 27. Ibid., 175, ll. 2598–2599. 28. Ibid., 185, ll. 2732–2743. 29. Ibid., 189, ll. 2794–2801. 30. Ibid., 177, 179, ll. 2633–2660. 31. Ibid., 195, ll. 2884–2890. 32. Ibid., 159, ll. 2327–2331. 33. Ibid., 185, ll. 2741–2742. 34. Ibid., 119, ll. 1716–1718. 35. Ibid., ll. 1718–1720. 36. Ibid., 9, l. 113. 37. Lewis, C.S. English Literature in the Sixteenth Century Excluding Drama; Oxford University Press: New York, 1954; 48. 38. Beowulf, 213, ll. 3180–3182. Napierkowski 516