Tolkien's "The Lord of the Rings" and the Shield-Maiden

Nikki Morrell

Shield-Maiden

Critics and readers alike have debated gender roles, specifically the role of women, in J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings.  Though female characters are few, it is neither misogyny nor failure on Tolkien’s part.  The story itself does not lend the appropriate setting for numerous female characters, especially considering its basis as a tale of war and battle.  The story resides in the unification of male characters for a common goal of destroying evil and saving their world.  Even today, wars are fought primarily by men; tales rooted in battle are usually tales about male figures. To consider the implications of the role of women, or even the roles of men, one must remember that “definitions of masculinity or femininity are not universal constructs but dependent upon shifting local, temporal, and cultural specificities” (Horner 6).  Thus, Tolkien’s, or any other author’s, portrayal of a specific gender is primarily an amalgamation of that author’s life experiences.  Readers should remember that it is not as if there are no female characters or as if the ones that exist are weak stereotypes. The female characters that do appear in The Lord of the Rings are worthy women who have great impact on the war with Sauron. 

Nancy Enwright posits that, “The general lack of a female presence…does not imply that female power and presence are unimportant. On the contrary, Tolkien's female characters epitomize his critique of traditional, masculine and worldly power, offering an alternative that can be summed up as the choice of love over pride...” In her article, Enwright quotes various critics who vilify Tolkien for his stereotyping of the female.   Critics such as Catherine Stimpson, as quoted by Donovan, states that Tolkien’s women are built on “the most hackneyed of stereotypes” (Donovan 106).  Candice Fredric and Sam McBride regard Tolkien as “blatantly sexist,” believing that he lumps males into the category of worker-thinker-leader and women into homemaker-nurse-love interest (Enwright). And while these critics may have a few valid arguments, none of them are able to refute the powerful roles that the existing female characters hold.  As Enwright proposes, Tolkien’s use of the female character as an embodiment of the theme of love over pride is central to understanding the novel.   Critic Patrick Curry agrees with Enwright, he states that The Lord of the Rings “would be ‘seriously impoverished’ without its women characters” (Donovan 106).

            Characters such as Arwen, Lobelia Sackville-Baggins, Galadriel, and especially Eowyn are contemporary characters.  Tolkien’s knowledge of Medieval texts, as well as the time period in which he was living, exemplified more traditional stories with women in more traditional roles.  As Shari Horner discusses in her work The Discourse of Enclosure, gender roles are often differentiated by “doing” and “performing”; it is through this classification that the “categories of masculine and feminine” are understood by a culture (7).  Tolkien, in some ways, disregards this notion and creates a doing and performing character in Eowyn.  In refute of most critics’ view of stereotypical female characters, Tolkien actually disregarded the typical female roles and created women who are strong, forceful heroines.  While his work “cannot be expected to reflect contemporary women studies” (Donovan 106) as his life predated the feminist movement, he does somewhat support the feminist approach, specifically with the character of Eowyn.

The character of Eowyn is a reference to the ancient shield-maidens and valkyries of Norse myth.  It is her character that acts as an example of Tolkien’s love of strong female characters.  Though some critics view the character of Eowyn as stereotypical because she chooses to dress as a man in order to reject her feminine role, they fail to realize that it is not rejection of femininity; it is acceptance, and Eowyn is not only a female, she is a shield-maiden—both woman and warrior.  She is a reflection of the Old Norse and Anglo-Saxon skjaldmeyjar, the battle-maiden.  And as Leslie Donovan writes, she is reminiscent of Norse myth, specifically, the “valkyrie in her psychological configuration” (Donovan 122). 

In Jenny Jochens’s book Old Norse Images of Women, she examines the shield-maiden and her place in literature.  By comparing Jochens’s study to the character of Eowyn, the reader can better understand Tolkien’s application of the Norse character of the shield-maiden.  Old Norse literature and myth features many women who choose to fight as professional warriors, many of whom dress as men.  Perhaps the most famous is the character Hervor from the poem Hlǫðskviða (Jochens 97).  In the work, Hervor is described as, “strong as a man, and as soon as she was able to do anything for herself, she would rather learn to use shield and sword than to work with embroidery and tapestry” (Jochens 99).  Similarly, Eowyn is described as “Grave and thoughtful was her glance…stern as steel… fair and cold, like a morning of pale spring that is not yet come to womanhood”  (Tolkien, Two Towers 504).   Like Eowyn, Hervor leaves her home dressed and equipped as one of the men, she joins a group of warriors, and calls herself by a man’s name (Jochens 99).   Interestingly, at the end of Hervor’s journey, when she tires of being a fighter, she doffs her men’s clothing, returns home, takes up womanly duties such as embroidery, and marries a suitor chosen for her (99).  Implied in this story and others presented by Jochens, to be a female warrior, one must give up her femininity and her sexuality; however, Tolkien is able, in Eowyn, to create a woman who is both.  Donovan writes that,

Where some critics view Éowyn’s character as either reflective of the powerlessness inherent in traditional female roles that trap women in their femininity or as indicative of her rejection of femininity through her warrior trappings… instead [she is] simultaneously a woman and a warrior. (Donovan 122)

Her masquerade as Dernhelm is not so that she will be seen as a man, but so that she might not be recognized by Theoden.  More importantly, it is “an effort to fulfill her shield-maiden training and heritage, while maintaining her personal honor” (Donovan 123).  In Tolkien’s first conception of the character of Eowyn, he has her ride into battle at Pelennor Fields with her hair “shorn upon her neck” (Tolkien, C. 1), which would have worked well except that by having her hair shaved like a man’s head might be, Eowyn loses much of her femininity; therefore, it seems as if Tolkien made a very specific choice in allowing Eowyn to look like the female that she is.  The final edition of the book states, “…her bright hair was released from its bonds” (Tolkien, C. 1).  In this small change, Tolkien better utilizes the Hlǫðskviða characterization; Eowyn is both woman and warrior.   

Like the women warriors of Denmark, Eowyn courts the fame that is earned in military feats; so much so, that she forgets that she is a woman.  She dresses as a man and perfectly fits the description of Denmark’s historical warrior females, “Those especially who had forceful personalities or were tall and elegant embarked on this way of life. As if they were forgetful of their true selves they put toughness before allure, aimed at conflicts instead of kisses…(Jochens 103-4).  Eowyn grows up in a culture that values “physical prowess and strength in arms,” and as a result of this she feels devalued because she is a woman (Enwright 294).   Tolkien, in his character of Eowyn, expresses sensitivity to what Eowyn must have experienced as a woman in the Rohirrim culture.  Perhaps it is through the words of Gandalf that Tolkien best articulates those thoughts, “My friend [Eomer]…you had horses, and deeds of arms, and the free fields; but she, born in the body of a maid, had a spirit and courage at least the match of yours.  Yet she was doomed to wait upon an old man…” (Tolkien, Two Towers 17).   Enwright suggests that it is through Eowyn’s battle with the Nazgul that she demonstrates her skill and strength, especially with her reply to the Nazgul that she is no living man.  Eowyn “turns gender expectations on their head” (Enwright 293). It is her feminine qualities, such as love, that gives her the ability to defeat the Nazgul. She is motivated to destroy the Nazgul by her love and compassion for Theoden and her people.

In addition to the female warriors of Denmark, the character of Eowyn also embodies the characteristics of the Norse valkyrie. Characteristics of the valkyrie include: divine origins or ancestry, noble status among her peers, superior wisdom, and above-average beauty (Donovan 110-1).  From the time Eowyn was a young girl, she was given the knowledge of battle and fighting.  Her arms are presented to her by King Thoeden.  “Eowyn knelt before him [Theoden] and received from him a sword and fair corslet” (Tolkien, Two Towers 512).  And it is in acceptance of these gifts that Eowyn also takes on the obligation of ruling and defending her people in the king’s absence.  “This valkyrie-like obligation is evident as the warband sets off…in the image of Eowyn standing outside the doors with a sword ‘set before her, and her hands…laid upon the hilt’” (Donovan 122).  She is often seen in a helm, warrior’s clothes, and fitted with a sword much like Brynhild, the famous valkyrie (122). 

It is Eowyn’s reaction to being left behind to mind the kingdom that best parallels the valkyries and shield-maidens.   She tells Theoden, “then let me ride in your following.  For I am weary of skulking in the hills and wish to face peril and battle,” to which his reply is to remind her of her duty (Tolkien, Return of the King 767).  She asks him, “Am I not…a shieldmaiden and not a dry-nurse?...May I not now spend my life as I will?...Shall I always be left behind when the Riders depart, to mind the house while they win renown?” (767).  And though Theoden’s reply is a logical one, Eowyn is unable to see past the implications of her femininity:  “All your words are but to say: you are a woman, and your part is in the house” (767).

Perhaps one of the most valkyrie-like actions of Eowyn is when she forsakes her post with her people to ride into battle.   She fears that she will never receive the acclaim that comes from victory in battle and that she will remain as if within a cage until she is too old to win that renown. Her fear as described to Theoden is “A cage…to stay behind bars, until use and old age accept them and all chance of doing great deeds is gone beyond recall or desire” (Tolkien, Return of the King 767).

The character of Eowyn acts as an outlet for Tolkien to present a female character that embodies the strength and martial aptitude of the Norse shield-maidens and valkyries, yet, instead of simply copying, Tolkien adapts Eowyn’s character.  She is not simply defined by her warlike skills; she is also demarcated by her feminine nature.  She is molded to shape Tolkien’s wishes, as well as reflective of his contemporaries. 

Works Cited

Donovan, Leslie A. "The Valkyrie Reflex in J. R. R. Tolkien’s the Lord of the Rings." Tolkien the Medievalist. Ed. Jane Chance. London: Routledge, 2002. 106-132. Questia. 25 July 2009 <http://www.questia.com/PM.qst?a=o&d=102739497>.

Chance, Jane, ed. Tolkien the Medievalist. London: Routledge, 2002. Questia. 25 July 2009 <http://www.questia.com/PM.qst?a=o&d=102739354>.

Enright, Nancy. "Tolkien's Females and the Defining of Power." Renascence: Essays on Values in Literature 59.2 (2007): 93+. Questia. 25 July 2009 <http://www.questia.com/PM.qst?a=o&d=5020676662>.

Horner, Shari.  The Discourse of Enclosure: Representing Women in Old English Literature.  Ed. Paul E. Szarmach. Electronic edition provided by James McNelis, Tiffin University.

Jochens, Jenny. Old Norse Images of Women. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1996. Questia. 25 July 2009 <http://www.questia.com/PM.qst?a=o&d=14462789>.

Tolkien, Christopher.  The History of Middle Earth.  Electronic edition provided by James McNelis, Tiffin University.

Tolkien, J.R.R.  The Return of the King.  New York: Houghton Mifflin, 1994.

Tolkien, J.R.R.  The Two Towers. New York: Houghton Mifflin, 1994.

The Ever-Changing Vampire Archetype

Nikki Morrell

The Ever-Changing Vampire Archetype

Every age embraces the vampire it needs—Nina Auerbach, Our Vampires, Ourselves

As man changes so do his stories.  From culture to culture and place to place, myths evolve along with the times.   One mythic creature, which has maintained its notoriety and infamy over the centuries, is the vampire.  This creature’s renown persists because it is able to adjust to social and environmental conditions.  Jennifer Fountain, in her article “The Vampire in Modern American Media,” writes, “Vampire lore has always been remarkable and adaptable, which has allowed the concept of the vampire to survive times of war, plague, and religious crusade” (3).  And while this is true, the most extraordinary thing about the vampire is how it accurately reflects a specific culture’s fears, supporting Carl Jung’s theory that vampires are a Shadow archetype that man projects. As a society changes, so do the myths of the vampire; as a projection of The Shadow, the creature that once represented true evil, now symbolizes the internal struggle between good and evil.

Though some critics may argue that the vampire is nothing more than a superstitious being imagined by tribal peoples who were attempting to come to terms with the mysteries of contagious disease or untimely death, the creatures are, in Jung’s opinion, an archetype which has “haunted mankind since the dawn of time in [his] collective unconscious (Hort 3).  The collective unconscious, which connects all of mankind, contains within it various archetypes, and the vampire is but one of these.    Jung writes that when an archetype is activated in a culture’s psyche, the image will appear in that group’s myths, folktales, and stories.  From a Jungian perspective, the vampire is simply a shape which man has developed to describe a specific human experience (Hort 6), or the projection of his own fears about himself: The Shadow. 

In describing Jung’s archetype of The Shadow, Tony Crisp writes that when a society or individual dislikes something that it sees within itself, it may reject that trait and, therefore, not allow it expression, and that “we may so dislike aspects of our nature we fail to see them altogether and instead see them in other people and criticise [sic] them” (1).  The vampire may be the projection of what man dislikes about himself; therefore, logically, as society and culture change, so does the image of the vampire.  

While many other creatures of legend and nightmare have faded into nonexistence, the vampire has managed to “retain its grasp on the human psyche” (Fountain 3).  As Anne Rice’s vampire Lestat states,

            If [the vampire] wields any lovely power upon the minds of men, it is only because the human imagination is a secret place of primitive memories and unconfessed desires.  The mind of each man is a Savage Garden…in which all manner of creatures rise and fall, and anthems are sung and things imagined that may finally be condemned and disavowed. (Rice 465)

Perhaps it is because of the creature’s resilience and adaptability, that the vampire has maintained a place in our literature and film. Frost, in his The Monster With A Thousand Faces, surmises that “The vampire theme—far from being narrow and stilted— is extremely plastic, and has been productive of more variations than any other motif in weird fiction” (24).  Thus, to understand the changing vampire archetype, one must first acknowledge the ancient vampires from legend.

One of the first vampires mentioned in literature is from Indian myth. The vetalas, vampires, are almost god-like.  They are benevolent and do not harm the innocent, only the guilty.  Mysterious creatures, and troublemakers, they are much like Shakespeare’s Puck or Ariel (Heldreth and Pharr  45).  Legend states that the vetalas follow the laws of karma; the spirits of the dead do not perish, but change bodies or wander the Earth.  “The Indian vampires, are spirits, especially of the dead, seeking final release from the law of karma”  (Heldreth and Pharr 43).   The ancient Indian peoples feared a final death, and by projecting this fear of the ultimate end of existence, the vetalas are not creatures to be feared, but men who seek to be liberated from their journey.  The concept of the vetalas is similar to the gods of Greek, Christian, and Buddhist pantheons.  The vampire is “awe-inspiring and love-inviting, strong and tender, stern and gentle, tyrannical and benevolent.  The religious person’s experience with [this creature] involves trembling and fascination, fear and love, worship and communion” (Heldreth and Pharr 43).  The Indians did project their fear of a final death upon this creature of the night; however, they did not create, within the mythic being, a fearsome monster that drains the living of their life-force.

In contrast to the Indian vetalas, the vampires of the ancient Syrian, Babylonian, and Hellenic world were the bête noir of society. The Syrian and Babylonian perceptions of the creatures can best be witnessed in the following lines from a document written in cuneiform.  “They rage against mankind; They spill blood like rain, devouring their flesh (and) sucking their veins…” (Frost 6).   These nightmarish creatures were reflective of the fears of the people for which the myths were written.  Projected onto the vampire was not only their fear of death, but a bloody, cruel death.

Much like the ancient peoples of the Mesopotamian area, the vampire archetype in the Classical world was also a projection of their deepest fears.  The creatures were called empusae.  The majority of empusae were female and plagued only the male population (Frost 6).  The Greeks imagined their vampires to be reanimated corpses, not a disembodied spirit or god-like being.  The empusae were unable to remain in their graves at rest and rose from the crypt to roam the land, preying on the living.  They renew themselves by feeding on the blood of men (Hyde 179-80).  Because of the empusea’s murderous impulses, modern readers can surmise that the ancient Greek peoples feared what became of their physical bodies after their deaths. Similar to the empusea, the Hellenic ekimmu were the evil spirits of the dead who tried to re-obtain their former existence by sucking out the life-force of the living (Frost 6).  The Greeks believed in creatures who could force the life of a man from his body.  If Jung is correct and man projects the aspects of his nature that he dislikes and fails to see (Crisp 1), then, it is possible that his fear of the metaphorical “sucking” of a person’s will could be projected in the form of a creature that literally withdraws a man’s life, his blood.  It is this concept that will follow the vampire throughout the next ten to fifteen centuries.

The Classical world’s view of the empusae and ekimmu is also similar to the Anglo-Saxon and Norse perception of the bloodthirsty demons. These Medieval cultures make mention of creatures who drank the blood of men; however, in copy of these creatures, the Vikings were notoriously known for drinking the blood of their enemies, believing that the blood had magical properties which would strengthen them in battle (Frost 6).   Tony Crisp, a Jungian scholar, writes that, “if you can think of the characteristics you loathe in others, that is a fair picture of what you repress in yourself” (1).   When this theory is applied to the Norse, one may notice that the Norsemen feared a creature who might drink from them, weakening them; however, they were committing just such an act against their own enemies.

Considering the vampiric creatures of the Greek, Babylonian, Anglo-Saxon, Norse, and Syrian cultures, Brian Frost, the author of The Monster with a Thousand Faces : Guises of the Vampire in Myth and Literature, writes,

      For though the terrors of the Ancient World have long been outlawed and set down as products of the unbridled imaginations of our ignorant forebears, the ingrained…need for the stark, purgative stimulation of supernatural terror has not—nor ever will be—winkled out from its impregnable stronghold in the dark chamber of the unconscious.  And it is through the vampire story—in particular those that deal with deep-rooted fears and events which appear.  (23)

By projection, the vampires of the ancient peoples of the European continent were direct results of their fears, insecurities, as well as the summation of their fears regarding death, the after-life, and brutal torture. Though many of these characteristics would remain constant, the vampire archetype would undergo some changes during the Middle Ages.

            While the earliest vampires mostly represented man’s fear of death and disease, the Medieval vampire was a symbol of both the Christian devil and a manifestation of the unfulfilled sexual desires of suppressed Europeans.  It is during the Middle Ages, that the vampire first invades the “sanctity of the Church” (Frost 7), as the Middle Ages were a time of religious devotion.   It is also during this time that the mythical vampire is first reputed to fear the cross, burn when doused with holy water, and is unable to enter a church or walk on holy ground.   Regardless of the idea that men and women of the second century viewed the vampire as a devil’s agent, they were “in reality manifestations of the unconscious, i.e. projection of inner desires in the victims themselves which came to life only when suppressed or violent emotions—usually of a sexual nature—called them into being” (Frost 7).  The new Medieval vampire symbolized a reversal of the Eucharist.  The blood symbolized the life, life-energy, and soul, and when the vampire would consume the blood of a creature, it took that life and soul.   

            It was during the seventeenth century that the vampire “took on another role, that of the ‘undead’ (Frost 7).  The creatures gained superhuman strength and speed, as well as the ability to put their victims into a trance—or to hypnotize them.  This ability was a wonderful addition to the archetype as it allowed the creature to subjugate their victims and prevent them from remembering what happened to them, another example of the sexually metaphorical portrayal of the vampire.

The sexual role of the vampire would remain unchanged, and vampires would no longer be fearsome creatures who truly existed, but fictional literary firgures.  It was during the Romantic Period of literature, which emphasized the supernatural and emotional aspect of humanity, that many writers explored creatures like the vampire.  The emphasis on the supernatural led to the first fictional representation of the vampire archetype.  Books such as Fantasmagoriana, a collection of ghost stories, were printed, and men and women such as Lord Byron, Mary, and Percy Shelley became interested in fantasy and horror as genres.  On the famous night, when Mary Shelley unveiled her short story titled Frankenstein, one of her guests, John Polidori, also introduced his work The Vampyre.  This short story would be the first fictionalized vampire tale from a British writer. Polidori’s tale was first printed in 1819, and follows the gruesome life of Lord Ruthven, an aristocratic vampire.  Ruthven is forced to feed upon the living in order to “live” himself, and is one of the first vampires in literature who appears as a normal man and not a monster. The Vampyre

…was considered quite sensational in its day because its vampire-hero was a nobleman. The real significance of this innovation was that ever since medieval times the vampire had been represented in folklore as an uncouth, disease-ridden peasant, and only with the publication of Polidori's story did the vampire acquire a romantic image. (Heldreth and Pharr 20)         

Polidori’s story “couch[ed] its parasitic motif within images that emphasize the importance of a visual participation in the world.  Lord Ruthven is able to participate in society because he looks and appears as a man”  (Heldreth and Pharr 9-10). Polidori’s vampire characterized that which his contemporaries feared, an unknown creature lurking within their society; one that infiltrated and threatened the caste system.   The vampire had a tremendous effect on society, not because they existed and were to be feared, but because they were a reflection of Britain’s “cultural instability” (Fountain 3).

            The Romantic Era British culture projected onto its vampires a number of worries and beliefs that helped to mold the vampire archetype into what it is today.  They introduced the vampire as a creature who could pass as human and who must drink the blood of man to survive. And just as Gothic Romance stories and novels centered around a tyrannical male who preys upon a weak female, the vampire archetype also adopted this convention.

            The era immediately following the Romantic Period was the Victorian Era, a period in history that focused on civility and proper behavior between men and women.  Sexually, the Victorians were repressed, and the archetype of the vampire represented the much-wanted freedom from societal restraints, especially regarding sexuality.  The most famous of the Victorian vampires, and possibly of all vampires, is Bram Stoker’s Count Dracula (a.k.a Vlad Tepes). The story of “Dracula changed everything…The literary vampire prior to Dracula was either a horror story monster…or otherworldly…(Modern Vampire Myth 1).   Stoker’s vampire is stylized; he is a walking corpse, but one who was once human, a fairly modern convention of the archetype in Stoker’s time. Still today, this character is easily the most recognizable to modern audiences.  The character of Dracula is invincible, immune to disease, a part of the nobility, a shapeshifter, attractive, seductive, and predatory (Modern Vampire Myth 2).  Some of these attributes were fairly new additions to the vampire archetype.  For example, the vampires in Stoker’s world are also bound by religious conventions and are repelled by the cross and burned by holy water.  The method of attack by Dracula in the novel is an obvious symbol for rape, and it is that aspect which has influenced almost every vampiric tale in the last two hundred years.  Vampires since Stoker’s novel enjoy their bloodthirstiness as they would intercourse.  They attack their victim (often by glamouring or hypnotizing them), force the victim to submit, the vampire’s teeth increase in size, and then the creature takes from their victims that which they are unwilling to part with—their life. The “thirst for blood equals sexual function” (Iaccino 61).   The correlation between rape and a vampire attack is no accident; it is partially the projection of the fears of Victorian society and the desire to see themselves freed from the bonds of proper behavior. Stoker’s novel is still the standard against which all modern vampire tales are judged; he is the one vampire that everyone recognizes (Heldreth and Pharr 31). 

            Though Stoker’s work remained a model for writers, the vampire archetype changed slightly during the period of time between the 1930s and the 1960s.  For the first time, man’s technological and scientific advances spread fear among the masses.  Especially in the time of World War II, scientists’ work with chemicals, specifically chemical warfare, caused mankind to fear advancement in the area of science.   What if man engineered a bacteria or virus that could reanimate the dead, created a pandemic, or generated a super-germ? (Modern Vampire Myth 2).  The author of I am Legend used just such questions to create a vampiric creature which owed its very creation to scientists’ nuclear testing. In the novel, the bacteria, released during an experiment, turns almost every single living man on the Earth into a vampire.  The novel, written by Richard Matheson in 1954, was founded on the anxieties regarding scientific advancement, and once again, these fears were projected onto the archetype of the vampire. No longer was vampirism something that resulted from being damned by God, losing one’s soul, or a result of nature; it could also be an accidental illness created by man.

            Since the 1930s and the days of pulp magazines, the vampire has consistently appeared in novels, comics, and film, “some surpassing even the wildest imaginings of our superstition-oriented ancestors” (Frost 24).  And with each new decade appeared a new trait or habit for the creatures of the night.  Mostly, the new aspects of the undead creatures were a result of a new societal fear or change, resulting in a projection of The Shadow onto the archetype.  For example, the vampires of the late 70s, 80s, and 90s, were most often viewed as diseased, with various explanations as to the cause: sicknesses of the blood, genetic disorders, or even psychological hallucinations (Modern Vampire Myth 5).  Vampires, in some ways, became the next step in human evolution.

            In the 1980s, there was a “spike in cultural anxiety due to malicious elements infiltrating ‘normal’ society” (Modern Vampire Myth 3).  Organized crime, gang violence, child abuse, and even the AIDS epidemic fed into the idea of “the enemy among us” (3).  American culture, specifically, recognized that a neighbor could be a rapist or serial killer, the organist at church might be infected with AIDS, or that neighborhood children could be killed in a drive-by shooting.  The point—anyone could be a monster-- and it is this idea that furthered the “enemy among us” aspect of the archetype. In The Lost Boys, a vampire film that is still a cult favorite, the vampiric creatures spend most of their nights on the boardwalk, prowling the stores, and looking for their next victims.  The creatures are nearly indistinguishable from man; they look the same, they ride motorcycles, go to concerts, and they eat Chinese food.  The only difference is that their behavior is an act meant to amalgamate them into a culture.  Other films and literature adopted the same characteristic.

The changing vampire archetype was not limited to films, however.  Movies were not the only place the vampire began to live again; television producers re-envisioned a role-playing game, Vampire The Masquerade, and created a series called Kindred, in which vampires had infiltrated every class of society.  They were gangsters, businessmen, owners of nightclubs and even newspapers.  Perhaps the interest in, and in some cases, obsession with vampires for modern man is best exemplified by the Role Playing Game Vampire, The Masquerade, which became very popular among gamers in the 1990s.  Sean and Ann Skippers, a couple who actively participated in the game, state that, “ The main concept behind [the game] is that vampires are hiding among humans...and find ways to hunt man without exposing their true selves”  (Skippers and Skippers 1). In the game, the clans of vampires, fight over territories and hunting grounds; the men and women who play the game take on a roles and lives of the characters, while a storyteller guides the action.  “The role-player is given the opportunity to take part in vampire lore” (Skippers and Skippers 1), and this is part of the attraction for the gamers.  Interestingly, what the players have projected onto their vampires is the desire to own, control, and maintain a wealthy, popular, and powerful lifestyle, which demonstrates their fears of poverty, powerlessness, and obscurity. Something to be noted is the willingness of modern society to take on the persona of the vampire.  No longer are the creatures the “monsters” of nightmares; instead, they are powerful, if mythical, supermen. Of course, the gamers also helped continue to foster the concept that the vampire was an “enemy among us.” 

            This modern view of the “enemy among us,” meant that the literary and cinematic vampires had to change; the archetype had to adjust, to incorporate new traits.  To not risk exposure, the changed vampire must be able to kill quickly, no longer revisit victims, and have instantly lethal bites.  The vampire became the perfect serial killer with superhuman speed who can easily hide among society.  The beast of the night finally looked exactly like its prey.

            Over the past forty years, a number of authors have contributed to the vampire archetype.  In the late 70s, Anne Rice wrote Interview with a Vampire and continued to write vampire stories over the next twenty years.  Borrowing from Stoker, she made vampirism a “virus,” where blood must be exchanged in order for a new vampire to be created.  Projected onto her vampires was the panic over resistant bacteria and the AIDS epidemic that was sweeping the country. It was the perfect time for vampirism to become a “medical” issue.

            In the 1990s, Joss Whedon created a television series called Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  With this show, the vampire was reintroduced to modern film.  Not since the appearance of the Kindred series had primetime television taken on the vampire genre, and Whedon’s vampires are excellent examples of the ancient vampire combined with the modern one.  They are quick, have superhuman strength, are hurt by holy water and religious artifacts such as crosses, and most importantly, they can be killed with a stake to the heart.  They are similar to the ancient mythological creature because they are bloodthirsty, inhuman demons, who feed without empathy or regret; however, they are also modern vampires with superhuman strength, a “disease” which they can pass by sharing their blood, and they have the ability to blend in with society—another “enemy among us.” 

            However patterned after Dracula or other ancient vampires, Whedon’s creatures are also able, by magic, to have their soul returned to their body.  In the case of the character Angel, a gypsy curse is placed on him, returning his human soul to his vampire body.  He literally becomes, internally, the battle between good and evil.  He is a symbol of mankind’s struggle with his free will to choose.

            This internalization of the conflict between good and evil is the driving force behind the changing vampire archetype.  Over the past five or six years, there has been another resurgence of vampire stories.  In the young adult section of a local bookstore, one can find over twenty-one new series based on the infamous creatures of the night.  And while some series, such as Marked by P.C. and Kristin Cast, create an entirely new mythology for the creatures, many simply change specific characteristics.  Truly, one of the most recognizable changes is the modern vampires’ possession of free will.  Marked, City of Bones, Twilight, The Vampire Diaries, and various other young adult vampire novels contain vampiric creatures who are given a choice in how they behave.  For example, in Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight series, the vampires are able to satiate their blood-thirst by feeding from animals; thus, Meyer’s Cullen family characters choose to drink only from animals.  And as their saliva is poisonous to humans, they must tiptoe their way through life. An added benefit to the Cullens’ refusal to drink from humans is that they may stay in their home of Forks, WA.  They no longer need to move in order to cover their trail.  Where once the vampire was considered a cursed wanderer, modern novelists, like Meyer, have created a way in which the creature may choose to remain in one place, create a home, have friends; they simply must refrain from drinking from humans.  Unlike the Cullens, there are other vampires in the same series, like the characters James, Victoria, and the Italian vampire family, the Volturi, who choose to give in to their primal instincts; humans are simply fodder, and they, the masters of the food chain. These characters’ actions demonstrate their choice in the internal battle between good and evil, just as the Cullens’ choice reveals theirs. 

            Modern man has faced his own internal battle of choosing between good and evil and projected that onto the ancient creature of the night.  The readers of vampire stories today demand more realism from the authors, and “a number of writers have attempted to update the vampire myth, making their novels more believable by stripping them [the vampires] of most of the supernatural attributes with which they were formerly associated” (Frost 116). 

Another method that modern authors use to inject reality into the vampire archetype is to allow the creatures a choice to maintain their humanity.  And just as modern man has lost the religious zeal with which his ancestors lived their every day lives, many of the modern vampires in literature and film are not affected by religious icons or accoutrement, such as crosses and holy water.  “Many religious connections have disappeared and allowed other elements to surface… especially considering the new scientific themes” (Fountain   7).  The new modern vampire is more like an evolution of man instead of a species of its own—vampires are man made more perfect.

A cursory glance at the vampires in Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight or in any of Charlaine Harris’s Sookie Stackhouse novels will exhibit vampires that are conscious of their decisions, who battle their own desire for human blood. In Harris’s novels, the vampires also have a choice; they are able to drink small quantities of blood from willing humans without turning them or irrevocably damaging them.  Many humans allow the vampires to drink from them, believing it to be an honor.  In fact, the vampires have “come out” to the world and admitted their own existence, choosing to live among the common man.  Each vampire in Harris’s world must choose the righteous way—only drink with permission and never drink too much.

Perhaps, we, modern readers, expect a more conflicted human-like vampire so the we can more easily identify with them, or as some believe, the vampire archetype has softened to a point where the creature of the night is almost indistinguishable from man.  In a review of the Stephenie Meyer film Twilight, Chris Nashawaty, from Entertainment Weekly, writes the following about the vampire Edward:

 The problem is that once the pasty teenage Romeo meets his Juliet in science class, the story stalls.  It becomes corny where it should be dangerous.  It’s like The Lost Boys, if…[it] were rewritten by a ninth grader who dots her i’s with hearts…Who knows, maybe this is the kind of Harlequin hooey that young girls are looking for. It may seem obvious, but a film about vampires (the most sexually loaded metaphor in the horror canon, going back to Bram Stoker) should at least offer a hint of transgression.  Otherwise, Pattinson might as well be wearing a pair of plastic novelty fangs.  (53)

Where is the vampiric monster of the past?  When an eighth grade class was polled, by the author, for their opinion of what it means to be a vampire, one boy answered, “They’re just hot guys who sparkle.”  Is this a result of most students’ familiarity with Twilight and young adult novels which have “good” vampires which battle “evil” vampires?  Is it a result of modern American culture’s fascination with the anti-hero? It seems that the vampire archetype has lost its bite partly due to the fact that as man grows used to the fearful experience of the vampire tale, the creature loses some of its ability to frighten (Fountain 3).

However Meyer or Harris may have changed the face of the archetype, it remains to be seen whether or not the archetype will change yet again when society experiences another shift in religion, philosophy, or science.  For now, the archetype is almost split into two: the ancient vampire, ferocious beast and bloodthirsty monster, and the modern more-than-normal man affected with a blood illness. 

To illustrate the latter, one may look to The Modern Vampire Myth, in which the following characteristics are used to demonstrate the difference between the ancient and the modern vampire.  The changing vampire archetype now includes some of the following conventions: 1) A community in which to belong: for centuries, the vampire was a solitary creature, living a life devoid of friendship or love; now, vampires belong to covens and  become a part of a community of creatures just like them. 2) Invincibility:  fear of aging, illness, disfigurement, pain, and death in the modern age is no longer a concern for vampires.  They are immortal, invincible, and diseases such as cancer and AIDS, are of no concern to the creature.  In fact, beauty and charisma are aspects of the archetype. 3) Sexuality without consequences:  the vampire is not susceptible to STDs, AIDS, or HIV; nor must they worry about unwanted pregnancy.  4) Preternatural power: while the archetype no longer includes the mind control and hypnotic abilities, the new addition of superpowers is an acceptable trade.  The idea of having the strength, speed, agility, and imperviousness to harm to escape any bully or gang is intoxicating to twenty-first century audiences (Modern Vampire Myth 5).  It is these five contemporary traits that make the modern vampire such an interesting and engaging subject.  Today’s society’s fears of age, illness, and loneliness have been projected onto the vampire archetype.

Consequently, the vampire is a projection of man’s unconscious shadow side, and thus, it is a creature which has evolved through time and with culture.  From a hideous monster to a man who simply needs to ingest blood to survive, it has changed with each culture’s hopes and fears.  Today’s version “has a strong desire to relate to other humans” both in hope of surviving on their life-force, but also with wishes of creating companions like himself (Iaccino 62).    Modern man sympathizes with this solitary creature; he realizes that the creature will watch “centuries come and go, unable to endure the agony of a damned immortality but also simultaneously incapable of ever destroying itself”  (Iaccino 62). Furthermore, it is impossible for society to ignore their perception of vampires because the creatures are all-pervasive and reflect how man views himself.  What once was a projection of our fear of evil is now a projection of our own internal struggle between good and evil.

            Works Cited

Crisp, Tony.  “The Archetype of the Shadow.”  Dream Hawk.  25 March 2009.  <www.dreamhawk.com/shadow.htm>

Frost, Brian J. The Monster with a Thousand Faces : Guises of the Vampire in Myth and Literature /. Bowling Green, OH: Bowling Green State University Popular Press, 1989. Questia. 26 Mar. 2009 http://www.questia.com/PM.qst?a=o&d=102541320

Fountain, Jennifer A.  The Vampire in Modern American Media.  2000.  Dartmouth University. 29 March 2009.  <http://www.dartmouth.edu/~elektra/thesis.html>

Heldreth, Leonard G., and Mary Pharr, eds. The Blood Is the Life: Vampires in Literature. Bowling Green, OH: Bowling Green State University Popular Press, 1999. Questia. 26 Mar. 2009<http://www.questia.com/PM.qst?a=o&d=101093781>.

Hort, Barbara.  Unholy Hungers.  New York: Shambhala, 1996. 

Hyde, Walter Woodburn.  Greek Religion and Its Survivals.  New York: Cooper Square, 1963.

Iaccino, James F. Psychological Reflections on Cinematic Terror: Jungian Archetypes in Horror Films. Westport, CT: Praeger Publishers, 1994. Questia. 26 Mar. 2009 <http://www.questia.com/PM.qst?a=o&d=85655725>.

“The Modern Vampire Myth.”  Light Unseen Media.  1 Sept. 2007. 25 March 2009.  http://bylightunseen.net/modmyth.htm

Nashawaty, Chris.  “Movies on DVD: Twilight.”  Entertainment Weekly.  27 March 2009: 53.

Skippers, Sean, and Ann Skippers.  Vampire The Masquerade. Unpublished essay.  2009.

Rice, Anne.  The Vampire Lestat.  New York: Ballantine, 1985.

            Hyde, Walter Woodburn. Greek Religion and Its Survivals. New York: Cooper Square Publishers, 1963. Questia. 9 Apr. 2009 <http://www.questia.com/PM.qst?a=o&d=345246>.

Beowulf and A Nation’s Need for a Common Identity

Beowulf and A Nation’s Need for a Common Identity

The Anglo-Saxon culture is a mysterious one, partly due to the lack of historical documents and literature from that period of time.  There are few sources which can be used to study the Germanic peoples, and the most famous, Beowulf, is not actually a historical document; it is a fictional account of a Scandinavian culture.  So why do scholars tout it as the best example of Anglo-Saxon culture?  The answer is a simple one.  Beowulf might be a Scandinavian tale translated by the newly arrived Germanic peoples, but it is also a tale of the early the early Anglo-Saxons.  Much of the Anglo-Saxon cultural expectations would remain visible in their descendants, and Beowulf is an example of their culture, belief systems, and social structure.  As Barbara Yorke states in her Kings and Kingdoms of Early Anglo-Saxon England,

The value of Beowulf and other heroic poems to the historian is that they are virtually the only guide to the mentality of the secular aristocracy. Beowulf, which for all its dragons and sea-monsters has a strong Christian content, not only shows the secular values of lordship, but also how the vocabulary and morality of the institution was adapted by the church to convert the Anglo-Saxon aristocracy though not without some distortion of its basic message. (Yorke 22)

But the poem acts as more than a simple “guide to…the secular aristocracy”; it is also illustrative of Britain’s need for a common identity.  It is likely that Beowulf may have provided a vehicle for political change during a time when the people of Britain, especially those south of Hadrian’s Wall were “being assimilated into an emergent English nation…and the text…is a significant result of that national consciousness at and at the same time, a significant contribution toward it” (Richards 62).  Furthermore, Beowulf functions as an allegory for Britain’s need for a common identity among a diverse population, as well as an inspiration for the unification of the nation’s peoples.

            Echoing this inspiration for unification, Beowulf highlights various amalgamations.  First, it illustrates the mingling of both the Christian and pagan cultures of the Germanic tribes and the remaining Romans, while also demonstrating the combination of the native languages of these people and how the languages created a pidgin language which would eventually become English.  The work also illustrates the mixture of the Scandinavians’ mythological and legendary pasts with the Roman Christians’ belief system, and finally, how the characters represented in Beowulf act as representatives of Anglo-Saxon man.

            The poem is a document in which various significant cultural issues are contested.  It is the combination of two dissimilar societies: the martial, tribal culture of the Germanic tribes and the learned Latin culture, part of which remained from the Roman occupation of Britain joined by the missionaries who were introducing Christianity (Fulk, et al 2).  Historically, the Anglo-Saxon invasions began around 197 A.D. when the Roman governor removed troops from England in order to declare himself emperor, and by the late fourth century, the Roman Empire went into decline as the government lost control of one area of Britain after another and Roman forces were needed elsewhere (Lehmberg 15).  As the troops abandoned Britain, many Roman citizens remained behind and attempted to maintain their cultural beliefs and practices as the Picts and Celts continued to attack from Scotland and Ireland.  Eventually, according to Geoffrey of Monmouth, King Vortigern invited Hengist and Horsa from Saxony to help protect the Britons, and instead, they brought hundreds of men from the Germanic tribes to invade and occupy Britain.  At this time, the Anglo-Saxons began taking over much of Britain; there was no unified government or laws as the men began to establish their own areas of settlement and control.  Eventually there were as many as twelve kingdoms, seven of which lasted and became known as the Heptarchy (Lehmberg 22).  D.M. Wilson, author of The Anglo-Saxons, writes that the presence of a large number of tribal leaders in the early years of the settlement resulted in an “England of numerous royal dynasties” (32).  And to further perpetuate a collision of cultures, St. Augustine began his missionary work.  He shared Christianity in hopes of converting the nation. Thus, early Medieval Britain was made up of Romans, Angles, Jutes, Saxons, Picts, and Celts, who all spoke different languages and dialects, worshipped various deities (pagan and Christian), and held diverse cultural values.   

Critics agree that this diverse ethnical combination is partly the impetus for the copying of the Scandinavian tale of the hero Beowulf into the Anglo-Saxon language. William Lawrence, author of Medieval Story and the Beginnings of the Social Ideals of English-Speaking People, discusses the social climate of early Anglo-Saxon England.  He describes it as “unsettled” with “various peoples wandering restlessly about” in search for new homes and new possessions (Lawrence 32).  The time period was fraught with fighting and conquest, both for treasure and territory.  Peaceful and settled existences were nearly unheard of and the era has been called the Migration Period.  Lawrence also posits that a select few people were able to “develop a national consciousness,” and out of this time of confusion was born the beginnings of government in Britain (32).  The reader must remember that Beowulf was born of this time period—a time when national consciousness was almost nonexistent and tribes spent more time fighting than building; thus, the story of Beowulf is one of tribal roots instead of what modern readers might perceive as a tale from a “society.”  In fact, the epic more accurately depicts the Germanic Tribes as described by Tacitus in his Germania, than it does the period in which was put onto paper (around 1000 A.D.). 

            To discuss the cultural “society” of Beowulf, one must consider the effects of the cultural collision that occurred due to the numerous convergences of various ethnicities.  In Race and Ethnicity, Harris explains, “the possible world of a text demands a distinction between social culture (or the material expression of a people) and literary culture” (33); consequently, ideas such as wergild or comitatus, which permeate the text, do not necessarily “explain the intricacies of military organization in Anglo-Saxon England” (33).   This example serves the reader as a microcosm of the work as a whole.  Simply because some cultural ideas are present in the work does not necessarily mean that this ideas are an accurate picture of all of Britain, though it does give an impression. 

At the time that Beowulf was written, the Anglo-Saxons were not producing much in the way of written literature.  In fact, Beowulf is the only surviving epic poem of its length that remains.  Furthermore, there are no other surviving poems that speak of nationalism or patriotism as Beowulf does.  Lawrence attributes this to the Anglo-Saxon’s lack of “political solidarity.” They had not yet come to think of themselves as a single people, united by common interests and ideals; they were still in an unsettled condition, governed by various petty kings, and continually warring against each other” (31).  But at the time of Beowulf’s recording onto paper, a merging of tribes was beginning to occur. 

All that modern scholars know of Beowulf and its author and setting must be taken with a grain of salt.  The poem does not necessarily show a completely accurate depiction of the Anglo-Saxons; however, it can help the reader to understand the culture better.  As mentioned earlier, it cannot be relied upon to explain intricacies, but might be used for what it says about generalities.  Perhaps the authors utilized Beowulf for a purpose: to illustrate to the Anglo-Saxon people the need for them to unite, to create a common identity.  Harris writes that, “Anglo-Saxon stories sought to redefine their own ethnic tradition by appealing to a sense of inherited, historical kingship and kinship” (132).  Hence, the author of Beowulf might have also sought to use his work as an appeal for unification by appealing to the peoples’ sense of inherited kinship. 

One manner in which Beowulf functions as a medium for the merging of the Anglo-Saxon cultures is through the poets use of Old English, which is an amalgamation of the Germanic tribes’ tongues, Latin, and a bit of the Celtic languages.  By utilizing the language of the common people, it makes the work accessible in ways that other stories had not been before.  Latin was the language of the educated, usually priests and men connected with the church, while the Anglo-Saxon dialects were the language of the common man; thus, Beowulf was a story for all, not only the elite.  In Janet Thormann’s

The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle Poems and the Making of the English Nation, she posits that,

“A Common language undoubtedly provides a population speaking that language with an idea of community.  It may motivate an idea of common nationality, as well”  (62).   While a common language may not necessarily build a nation on its own, it will foster a sense of community amongst those who speak the language, and having popular literature written in that same language, or told orally in the language, will also inspire the idea of a shared culture.  Thormann continues with this idea by quoting John D. Niles, the editor of the book in which her article is published,

Niles describes a "tenth century renaissance" in vernacular culture as a vehicle for a developing nationalism, so that as early as "Athelstan's reign, for the first time, it is possible to speak of an English nation." According to this line of reasoning, the text of Beowulf is a significant result of that national consciousness and, at the same time, a significant contribution toward it. (Thormann 62)

Furthermore, an interesting concept to consider is that the poet of the work was most likely a religious man educated in Latin and of Roman descent. In most cases, these monks and men of the church would use the “artless poetry of his vernacular; and in the hands of the monk lay all destiny of letters” (Gummere 8).  Francis Gummere, in his book Germanic Origins has much to say regarding the copying down of the Scandinavian tale of Beowulf.  He believed that it was the Christian leaders who decided which tales were kept and cherished and which were dismissed or destroyed.  He writes, “Patriotic monks were here and there found who would set down the songs and legends of the fatherland, notwithstanding occasional survivals of heathendom which crept between the lines,--so we have a Beowulf” (Gummere 8-9).  Many songs and lais were lost because of the pagan nature of the works.  The Germanic tribes were torn between their old civilization and customs and their new experiences in Britain, something that the men of the church must have also experienced.  Language was one way in which to bring the newness of Britain into the tales of their homelands.

            Like the combination of languages, the combination of the Anglo-Saxons’ native gods and the newly introduced religion of Christianity also helped to forge a British nation and inspire a sense of community among the tribes.  Harris posits, “Tribal laws, myths, and traditions seem to have melded with Christian ones very early on—in the Gothic and Burgundian kingdoms at least by the sixth century. No lodestone is capable of turning the lead of recorded medieval history into the gold of autonomous Germanic tribal identity, were such a thing to exist” (40).  Thus, it is both the mythological and the Christian ideals that combine to create Beowulf.  It should be mentioned again that the author-poet was most probably a man from a holy order; thus, the Christian ideas and allusions that permeate the poem are mostly veneer that has been placed over the original pagan work that the Anglo-Saxons brought with them from their homelands.  This author most likely utilized the true historical and legendary qualities, but he is not the true author of the tale, which probably began as legend.  As most critics agree, it is an impossible task to separate the Christian veneer from the work on which it is placed.  Fulk writes that the Germanic tribes

…retained a sense of community with the rest of the Germanic world, even as the form of English society grew ever more different from it; [it] is shown in a variety of ways, but most clearly in the fact that even as late as the dawn of the 11^th century, heroic verse dealing with legends set in Scandinavia and on the continent, like Beowulf, with no explicit connection to England continued to be copied in English manuscript. (5)

It is the adherence to the old stories and myths that brought us Beowulf, a combination of the mythological Germanic past with the new Christian Anglo-Saxon Britain community.  Lawrence, when discussing Beowulf, writes the there are two Germanic elements that go into the tale—an element of the old tales of Scandinavian heroes, who slay mythological creatures, and their culture’s historical and literary past, which acts as a background for the story (36). 

Though many authors have attempted to prove Beowulf’s Scandinavian beginnings, they have failed to produce any specific reference to just one myth or legend. In fact, it is peculiar that Beowulf holds no true “Scandinavianisms,” though it does, however, have some connection to the Grettis Saga (Bjork 130-1).  As Lawrence speculates, the story of a man who battles demons which terrorize a people and their hall is extremely common in Europe during this time period.  The story can be linked to stories from all over Europe and even other continents (Lawrence 39).  The tale of Beowulf and his battles is simply an archetypal story which has been given a historical setting within the Danish and Geatish nations, and the reason it rings true and affects the Anglo-Saxons and other tribes in Britain is party that it is archetypal and speaks to the nation’s collective unconscious.  The figures, the themes, the ideals are also recognizable from each culture’s own stories and legends.  The similarities help bridge the gap between cultures and help to unite a no-longer Scandinavian people with the rest of the tribes in Britain.  Lawrence writes that the only true place history has in the tale is in “making the story seem real” (40).  He expresses that myth may seem like fact when it combines with believable and recognizable history.  That is why many of the historical figures mentioned in Beowulf are utilized. 

Wilson, in Anglo-Saxon Poetry, concludes that many of Beowulf’s characters are based on historical figures.  For example, Hygelac ruled the Geats between 512 and 520 A.D. in what is now considered southern Sweden (Wilson 1).  Wilson writes that the kings, Eadgils, Onela, Ohtere, and Ongentheow, were also historical figures (1).  “The Danish king Healfdene [Halfdane] and his descendants are also probably historical, and their great hall Heorot almost certainly stood at Leire in the island of Seeland” (Wilson 1).  Lawrence, in addition to Wilson’s list of historical figures to which he assents truly existed, also lists Hrothgar and his hall in Demark as plausible historical fact (41). 

But Beowulf is valuable as more than a record of past historical occurrences of the Scandinavian people; it also functions as a record of ancient myths and legends of the early Anglo-Saxon peoples.  For example, Bjork, in The Beowulf Handbook, posits that the story “does follow the tradition of Old Icelandic heroes” (134), and that Beowulf may have done more than simply repeat myths.  It might also have “affect[ed] the culture by projecting a current ideology onto the past and its founding figures; in fact, he writes that, “Beowulf may have provided the Anglo-Saxons with a model for current institutions of kingship and thaneship, a means of validating power relations among Saxon, Mercians, Danes, and other groups” (230).  Again, a combination of myth and history might have affected the common identity of the cultures living in Britain.  In agreement with Bjork, Harris writes that the Anglo-Saxons could have been attempting to redefine their own ethnic tradition by appealing to a sense of inherited, historical kingship and kinship, thus drawing mythical origins into historical time” (132). 

One famous piece of ancient Germanic legend that is similar to Beowulf is the Grettis Saga, previously mentioned, and critics also claim that the creature Grendel is a mythical creature.  Fulk, in his critique, mentions that the building of Heorot and Grendel’s attempted destruction of it is an archetypal plot.  Mythically, the building of hall or meeting place for a culture inevitably brings the destruction of its peoples—like the Egyptians and the pyramids and Solomon and the temple (Fulk 101); thus, the mead-hall is symbolic of sloth and the apathetic decline of society, just as Heorot is symbolic of Hrothgar’s peace and the decline of his culture.  Beowulf must attend Hrothgar in order to destroy Grendel and restore peace to the Danes.  This idea and theme would have been familiar to the Germanic tribes.   And the poet, by utilizing familiar themes and ideals would be able to connect with his readers, especially those of Germanic origins. 

Other than the mythological and legendary allusions and patterns found in Beowulf, Christianity plays an important role in the work.  And while the work is fundamentally pagan, the Christian veneer is so deeply attached to the story that it is impossible to separate the two.  This is probably due to the poet’s desire to create a more modern tale from an ancient legendary story.  One example of this idea is that Grendel is the progeny of the biblical Cain, who murdered his brother Abel in jealousy and was cursed and marked by God to suffer through eternity.  By alluding to Grendel’s biblical ancestor, the author is able to combine the mythological and supernatural with what the newly converted Anglo-Saxons would be doubly familiar with—the story of Cain and Abel as well as the supernatural beast of myth that ravaged the Germanic peoples.  Another example of the amalgamation of Christianity and paganism is in Hrothgar’s rewarding of Beowulf with “wealth as a kind of social sacrament,” yet at the same time lecturing Beowulf, invoking the Christian God, on the dangers of hubris (Damrosch, et al 27).  This veneer of Christianity demonstrates a division in the epic.  The author and his audience are Christians who are remembering their pagan ancestors and attempting to “reconcile the two” (27). 

While these examples of the mishmash of Christianity and paganism work well, the reader must also acknowledge that some of the combinations are not as successful.  Lawrence uses Beowulf as an example of failure; he posits that while Beowulf spouts Christian ideals and praise to the Christian God, he also behaves in a heathen manner.  “He forgets his new religion frequently, after the manner of other newly converted savages, sometimes attributing death and destruction to Wyrd, the heathen goddess, and neglecting God completely in his reflections as to the way in which the universe is ruled (Lawrence 48-9).  While Lawrence finds fault in this combination, others disagree.  The editors of The Longman Anthology write that “Beowulf offers and extraordinary double perspective…for its acceptance of the values of the pagan heroic code…[and that] it also refers to Christian concepts that in many cases conflict with them” (Damrosch, et al 27).    The editors elaborate by stating that,

This rich division of emotional loyalty probably arises from a poet and audience of Christians who look back at their pagan ancestors with both pride and grief, stressing the intersection of pagan and Christian values in effort to reconcile the two.  (27)

Perhaps the church, with purpose, established “a neutral ground on which classics and barbarism could in some manner join hands and so save what was best in each” (Gummere 9).

Another manner in which the text of Beowulf acts as a vehicle for establishing a common identity is in the readers’ understanding of how a fictional work concerning a Scandinavian hero might work as an allegory for the Anglo-Saxon people.  What the reader must recognize is that Beowulf and the monsters that he fights act as symbols of Anglo-Saxon man’s confrontations with life; thus, the Kings—Shield, Hrothgar, and Beowulf—do much in the way of unifying the peoples of their land, and perhaps the poet uses this as a statement to his readers and listeners about uniting, an early form of propaganda.  In the first two stanzas of the poem, the poet describes Shield Sheafson,

Scourge of many tribes,

A wrecker of mead-benches, rampaging among foes.

This terror of the hall-troops had come far…

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.  (Heaney 3)

In these lines, Shield Sheafson is described as a “good king,” mostly because he was able to conquer neighboring foes and unite them with his own people.  Each clan eventually yielded to Shield and paid tribute; by this process, they become citizens of his culture and are unified under his laws.  This is extremely similar to what was occurring in Britain.  With the Heptarchy, and seven ruling kings, eventually one king was chosen from them to become the bretwalda, or high king of Britain (Lehmberg 22).   This shift from numerous tribes with numerous kings to larger kingdoms under the dominion of a bretwalda helped to encourage a common identity among the Britons.  With Aethelberht as high king, many changes occurred.  Aethelberht was converted to Christianity by St. Augustine, and, therefore, many of his people converted as well.  Richards writes that “Aethelberht’s choice of English for laws helped to enable Germanic legal traditions. It’s these new-found Christianity that forms the basis of Anglo-Saxonism as expressed in the laws”  (40).  In other words, Aethelberht, perhaps like the poet of Beowulf, saw a need to unite the peoples of Britain through common laws and common language.  

An example of the Germanic tribes’ beliefs in uniting a people through affairs of state can be seen in Beowulf.  The poet’s use of the mead-bench as a metaphor for a common identity is echoed in Shield’s descendant’s building of a mead-hall.  Hrothgar desires to build the mead-hall, in a time of peace, to bring together his people.  The mead-hall was a place for Hrothgar to dole out rings, a common practice among kings, to share drink and food, as well as a place for the recitation of verse.  And perhaps the poet is speaking to his audience with this idea of a mead-bench where everyone comes together to share in the tradition of story telling.

            Hrothgar’s generosity and ability to unite nations is further exemplified in his speech to Beowulf upon his leave-taking. 

My liking for you

Deepens with time, dear Beowulf.

What you have done is to draw two peoples,

The Geat nation and us neighboring Danes,

Into shared peace and a pact of friendship

In spite of hatred we have harboured in the past.

For as long as I rule this far-flung land

Treasures will change hands and each side will treat

 The other with gifts...  (Heaney 127)

Much like his ancestor, Shield, Hrothgar wishes to build strong bonds with neighboring cultures and to create peaceful, reciprocal relationships.  He praises Beowulf for his ability to begin this type of association between the Geats and Danes.  It is uncanny how much these words could have easily been spoken by an Anglo-Saxon king, such as Aethelberht, in hopes of uniting the ever-growing, ever-warring tribes in Britain.

Beowulf’s own words to Hrothgar reiterate the need for this alliance. 

If there is any favor on earth that I can perform…

Anything that would merit your affections more,

I shall act, my lord, with alacrity.

If ever I hear from across the ocean

That your borders are threatening battle…

I shall land with a thousand thanes at my back

To help your cause. (Heaney 125)

Again, in Beowulf’s speech to his own king, Hygelac, he mentions Hrothgar’s generosity and willingness to treat Beowulf and his men as his own, as well as his pledge of alliance between the two nations.  Beowulf goes on to describe Wealtheow, Hrothgar’s wife, as a “peace-pledge between nations,” (Heaney 138) and he relates the news of Hrothgar’s daughter, Freawaru, and her upcoming marriage to a man from a different nation.  Hrothgar’s hope is that it will “heal old wounds and grievous feuds” (Heaney139).  This further echoes the importance of peaceful agreements between clashing cultures. 

            The Anglo-Saxons, for a number of couple of reasons, easily accepted the story of Beowulf and his great feats.  First, as Lawrence posits, the story “had been in their possession for some time before it assumed its present shape” and it was more than likely a translation from a Germanic tongue (30).  Lawrence further mentions that the epic centers around a hero who traveled to seek his fortune, a common occurrence in those times, and the Germanic tribes would have appreciated a tale of a man journeying past “restricted horizons” to achieve glory (33). 

 In a way, the tale of Beowulf allowed the Anglo-Saxon peoples a way to remember their homelands, a connection to their past, while at the same time bridging the gap between their current culture and the culture of their ancestors.  As J.R.R. Tolkien writes, in his famous work Beowulf and the Critics, “To judge of Beowulf, to try indeed to form any conception of it at all…is to attempt an estimate of a great man from his skeleton” (83).  But when little information is available, the student must derive the best possible account, a circumstantial supposition.  Beowulf, as one of the only surviving works of art, must also be viewed as a document that gives historical insight, a document which illustrates a blend of the Scandinavian past with the Anglo-Saxon present for its readers, a document that, as propaganda, works to encourage the tribes in Britain to unite together for the improvement of the nation.

           

Works Cited

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Harris, Stephen J. Race and Ethnicity in Anglo-Saxon Literature. New York: Routledge, 2003. Questia. 8 Aug. 2009 <http://www.questia.com/PM.qst?a=o&d=107704885>.

Lees, Clare A. Tradition and Belief: Religious Writing in Late Anglo-Saxon England. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1999. Questia. 8 Aug. 2009 <http://www.questia.com/PM.qst?a=o&d=109759104>.

Wilson, D. M. The Anglo-Saxons. New York: Praeger, 1960. Questia. 8 Aug. 2009 <http://www.questia.com/PM.qst?a=o&d=89176593>.

Gummere, Francis B. Germanic Origins: A Study in Primitive Culture. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1892. Questia. 8 Aug. 2009 <http://www.questia.com/PM.qst?a=o&d=11355179>.

Heaney, Seamus.  Beowulf.  New York:  W.W. Norton, 2000.

Lawrence, William Witherle. Medieval Story and the Beginnings of the Social Ideals of English-Speaking People. New York: Columbia University Press, 1911. Questia. 8 Aug. 2009 <http://www.questia.com/PM.qst?a=o&d=5872182>.

Tolkien, J. R. R. Beowulf and the Critics. Ed. Michael D. C. Drout. Tempe, AZ: Arizona Center for Medieval and Renaissance Studies, 2002. Questia. 8 Aug. 2009 <http://www.questia.com/PM.qst?a=o&d=111554559>.

Yorke, Barbara. Kings and Kingdoms of Early Anglo-Saxon England. London: Routledge, 1997. Questia. 8 Aug. 2009 <http://www.questia.com/PM.qst?a=o&d=103491046>.

Fulk, Robert, et al.  A History of Old English Literature.  New Jersey: Wiley Blackwell, 2003.

Thormann, Janet.  “The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle Poems and the Making of the English Nation.”  Anglo-Saxonism and the Construction of Social Identity. Ed. Allen J. Frantzen and John D. Niles. Gainesville, FL: University Press of Florida, 1997. 111-125. Questia. 8 Aug. 2009