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Post by Hróðbeorht on Apr 23, 2013 17:57:59 GMT
Alright, I suppose this is it. Next text then, and this time I won't be the one to get the ball rolling, k? The second text is The Wanderer. We move away from epics and enter the genre in which, in my opinion, Old English literature shone the most: the elegy. The Wanderer Project: a superb site which contains the original text (including images from the manuscript), a glossary and even a recording of each individual line (of questionable quality, but hey!), as well as four different translations. The Wanderer on Anglo-Saxons.net: original text and line-by-line translation.
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Post by Fródwine on Apr 25, 2013 0:03:47 GMT
After Hroþa has already done his part, I will try to pick up the ball and get it rolling as good as I can.
Concerning The Wanderer
To be honest, I feel quite touched by the poem. Its melancholic feel is most intensive. I have quickly started to empathise with the narrator because he creates an incredibly vivid image of his suffering. Nevertheless despite his focus on loneliness I believe the main theme is fate.
I am not too sure about this but he seems to consider not only his but fate in general as negative. Of course there is also joy (kinsmen etc.) in this world but in the end it does not last.
Apart from this he does actually sound a bit traumatised in my opinion, which would also explain his everything overshadowing sadness.
On a different level this lines are quite interesting regarding the omnipresent idea of medieval fighters being unaffected by violence. (I am still not sure if it is actually possible to socialise a normal mentally sane human in a way that he is able to wound respectively kill without suffering any form of regret or other mental stress (cf. e. g. the Waffen-SS).)
I might be wrong, but I imagine remembering that an important aspect of the Anglo-Saxon culture or at least their zeitgeist was the understanding that inevitably nothing lasts and everything eventually changes which provided them a kind of equanimity maybe even right up to aloofness. Perhaps this state of mind characterises a wise man. Accordingly only people who have gathered actual experiences and seen the world and the way it is ever changing are to be considered truly wise.
There is much more to discuss but with a view to the current time of day this might be enough for now. I am eager to hear of your thoughts concerning the poem.
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Post by Rǽdwulf on Apr 25, 2013 7:54:35 GMT
I did not know this poem before, but I must say it goes a long way to fascinate me. I have to agree with Froda's notions about the importance of fate for the poet. The idea that nothing lasts and everything is subject to change could be interpreted like the idea of "vanitas" so popular in the late medieval and early modern times. In my eyes, this concept of an idle world bound to decay runs strongly throughout the part from “Forþon ic geþencan ne mæg” onwards. In my opinion, there is another idea that seems to be really important to the poet, and this is the idea of deliberate introversion and self-control. Being lonely (and in the context of the later verses indulging in lonely (self-)reflection) seems like a way to “enlightment” Often the solitary one finds grace for himself the mercy of the Lordbut the recflections cannot be shared with others There is none now living to whom I dare clearly speak of my innermost thoughtsand this not just a matter of lacking trust, but in fact, introversion is a cultural technique (“noble custom”) to keep secure one’s own thoughts and mind. that it is in men a noble custom, that one should keep secure his spirit-chest, guard his treasure-chamber, think as he wishes.This reminds me of some 16/17 century Japanese philosophers who taught that speaking out only one sincere inner thought could show your true nature to others and was thus dangerous. (citation can be delivered if someone's interested) In the wanderer, it is even said that shutting down “dreary thoughts” was a premise if you are “eager for glory”. So it seems only the self-controlled and incommunicative can hope to gain high esteem. This importance of self-control (especially concerning the spoken word) is even made clearer in the part about the virtues of the wise man: A wise man must be patient, He must never be too impulsive nor too hasty of speech (etc) This provides some insight into culture and mentality which i find most intriguing.
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Post by Hróðbeorht on May 4, 2013 23:37:13 GMT
Thanks for your comments! Some very interesting insights in there! Indeed. An underlying idea is that the fate of everything on Earth is to perish, and that only through God can men reach permanence, I'd say, although it's not an overly explicit part of the poem. Hehe, yeah. He's actually in such a bad state he's hallucinating or having weird dreams, as in my favourite part, where for a second he thinks the sea birds are his companions: Then the friendless man wakes up again, He sees before him fallow waves Sea birds bathe, preening their feathers, Frost and snow fall, mixed with hail. Then are the heavier the wounds of the heart, grievous with longing for the lord. Sorrow is renewed when the mind surveys the memory of kinsmen; He greets them joyfully, eagerly scans the companions of men; they always swim away. The spirits of seafarers never bring back there much in the way of known speech. (45-55a)
ðonne onwæcneð eft wineleas guma, gesihð him biforan fealwe wegas, baþian brimfuglas, brædan feþra, hreosan hrim ond snaw, hagle gemenged. þonne beoð þy hefigran heortan benne, sare æfter swæsne. Sorg bið geniwad, þonne maga gemynd mod geondhweorfeð; greteð gliwstafum, georne geondsceawað secga geseldan. Swimmað eft on weg! Fleotendra ferð no þær fela bringeð cuðra cwidegiedda.
Very interesting observation! Yeah, the idea of self-control and of the social demand of having that, uh, stiff upper lip attitude is very important. There's certainly an interesting contrast between the social mores dictating that a man should keep his grieving to himself and the way the elegy thrived as a genre. Of course, the majority of Anglo-Saxon poetry is anonymous, so that would make poetry the perfect outlet for this kind of feelings, even more so than in modern times.
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Post by Hróðbeorht on Jun 5, 2013 21:47:31 GMT
I've neglected this thread for too long. Now, for something completely different... Sermo Lupi ad Anglos(Wolf's Sermon to the English)This will be our first prose text, although stylistically it's very refined. It is a homily written by Wulfstan, archbishop of York. The full Latin name is Sermo Lupi ad Anglos, quando Dani maxime persecuti sunt eos quod fuit anno millesimo XIIII ab incarnatione domini nostri Iesu Cristi, "Wolf's sermon to the English, when the Danes were greatly persecuting them, which was in the year 1014 after the Incarnation of our Lord Jesus Christ". The text is, I think, a fascinating look into the mentality of, at the very least, some among the top brass of English society in the early 11th century, and into how they experienced the contemporary Viking predations. This idea of calamity as divine punishment was of course pretty common at the time, and it's still alive and well today, although fortunately in the Western world it's become a fringe view. Lupus was Wulfstan's pen name, because apparently he was a bit of a nerd like us. It must be pointed out that, for everything he said in this sermon, he still worked as an advisor to King Cnut a couple of years later. Original text and translation (click on "Translation" in the left frame)
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