Although my reading list is still in flux, I've decided to focus on the major players first—in these early days, I will be reading the texts I know will stay on my reading list. And where better to begin than Beowulf? A canon favorite, Beowulf is one of those texts that students read and reread, and still seem stuck on the basics. I've taught it twice now, and as I'm rereading it for my prelims, I find myself wondering "so what?" So what, Beowulf is still, over a thousand years later, the keystone text for any student of medieval literature. Beowulf is to Old English what The Canterbury Tales is to Middle English, and what Shakespeare is to Early Modern English: the most visible, most highly respected, but also most accessible of a wide range of texts, the majority of which most survey classes won't touch.
While it's certainly not my main focus, I'm interested in the politics of canon-building, especially as a teacher. For the purposes of my prelim exams, I'm forced to think about this text in ways that I generally don't. What about this one particular text—existing today in only one manuscript—makes it so indispensable? There are plenty of other Old English poems that have survived in large quantities (for example, Geoffrey of Monmouth's History of the Kings of Britain survives in over two hundred manuscripts, suggesting its immense popularity) and yet if a non-specialist knows any Old English text, it's inevitably Beowulf they name-drop. Why?
My conclusion is that it contains a bit of everything; from lineage narratives to mythologized history, from monsters to warriors and from celebrations to elegies, Beowulf is the quintessential Old English poem. It's sweeping narrative covers youth and resigned old age, boasting and humility topoi. Furthermore, it has immense value as both a record of cultural mindsets and a work of literary imagination.
One of the most interesting aspects of Beowulf for me is the use of cultural capital—in the case of Beowulf this can be physical (with material wealth like bēagas [rings]) and intangible (with, for example, honor). Cultural capital can be given or taken, bought or earned. In the case of Hrothgar, cultural capital in the form of respect is bought: "Finally I healed the feud by paying:/ I shipped a treasure-trove to the Wulfings,/ and Ecgtheow acknowledged me with oaths of allegiance" (lines 470-2). Hrothgar paid for allegiance instead of winning it through respect or at sword point. While this can be taken as cowardice, this compromise also hints at a shrewd political mind; while there may have been more glory in settling this conflict through further bloodshed, Hrothgar values diplomacy and the lives of his men. Material signifiers of cultural capital are also prevalent, especially in the form of ring-givers and wealth distributed to thanes. As Beowulf prepares to fight Grendel's mother, a foe even more formidable than her son, he asks Hrothgar to protect his men, but also to keep his legacy alive: "... send Hygelac the treasures I received./ Let the lord of the Geats gaze on that gold,/ let Hrethel's son take note of it and see/ that I found a ring-giver of rare magnificence/ and enjoyed the good of his generosity" (1482-7). This public recognition of the favor and benefaction given to him by Hrothgar validates and enhances the renown Beowulf has already achieved amongst the Danes and abroad, even if his final mission is unsuccessful. The transmission of his honor is largely dependent on material goods
While the uses and expressions of cultural capital do not make Beowulf the canonical text it is today, subtle themes and issues such as this act collaboratively, creating a world so different from our own, and yet not very far removed. Ultimately, this is the appeal of the most famous Old English poem: it describes a fantastical world, one not so very much unlike our own.
While the uses and expressions of cultural capital do not make Beowulf the canonical text it is today, subtle themes and issues such as this act collaboratively, creating a world so different from our own, and yet not very far removed. Ultimately, this is the appeal of the most famous Old English poem: it describes a fantastical world, one not so very much unlike our own.
