"is this a poem?
oh dear yes but also,
so what indeed darling?!
unfortunately i forgot!
what is thou can be shall,
fall on thouse ravens?
why thou can be so distinguished?
fried pan must be punished.
so dear run from these lands,
where thou which counties could be wastes.,
oh fear, king arthur haven't been dissapeared.
so dear, saint george flout to the polar bear.
heigh, atre, belg, canti, dumno, iceni, parisi! "
This poem, in fact, tells the story of a couple who, amidst the absurdity and chaos, managed to survive the plague during the Middle Ages. It begins with the couple reflecting on the deaths around them, treating the horror almost as if it were a poem. One of them asks, "Is this a poem?" and receives the cryptic yet resigned reply, "Oh dear yes but also," and from that moment on, the poem shifts into surreal imagery and existential questioning.
Alongside this imagery, life itself is dissected and questioned. Then, following the devastating and horrifying events, a heavy, soul-crushing atmosphere sets in one that penetrates the human psyche so deeply that people begin to forget the very idea of what life was.
"Why thou can be so distinguished? Fried pan must be punished."
These two lines are particularly important. At this point, the plague in Europe has just ended, and the poet here begins to criticize the Catholic Church. By saying “fried pan,” he indirectly refers to the Pope and implies that he must be punished. These lines are, in a way, part of the intellectual and spiritual climate that would later inspire Martin Luther’s movement.
"So dear run from these lands, Where thou which counties could be wastes."
In these lines, the woman in the couple urges her partner to flee. She tells him to go anywhere because all lands have become barren and meaningless.
"Oh fear, King Arthur haven't been disappeared. So dear, Saint George flout to the polar bear."
Here, the man responds, declaring that he will not flee. By stating that King Arthur hasn't disappeared, the poet suggests that his spirit still roams the land that courage and the will to stand one’s ground still survive. The image of Saint George soaring with or confronting a polar bear in the desert evokes the impossible, the surreal and yet also the essence of the human soul: to possess everything in the midst of nothingness. That, the poet says, is the spirit.
"heigh, atre, belg, canti, dumno, iceni, parisi!"
is another instance of what the poet refers to as “Sliding Words.” However, this time they take on an even deeper resonance. These are not merely random syllables — they are names (or echoes) of ancient Celtic tribes from pre-Roman Britain: Atrebates, Belgae, Cantii, Dumnonii, Iceni, Parisi. By invoking these names in a chant-like rhythm, the poet is calling forth the ancestral memory of the land.
This act gives profound weight to the man's refusal to flee. When he declares that "King Arthur haven't been disappeared," he isn't just referring to the medieval legend. He is tapping into the foundational spirit of the island, a spirit that precedes the Romans, the Church, and the very civilization that has just been shattered by plague. The chant is the source of his power; he is drawing strength from the deep, soul of the land.
It and his other works on Old English really should be gathered up in a boxed set and reprinted.
I asked for permission to reprint it, and even put together a PDF, but was rebuffed on the grounds that I am a layman, not an academic --- if an academic is reading this and finds it an interesting project, let me know. I keep asking after it, and even got one somewhat interested response, but haven't heard back.....
I was given the advice of someone much smarter than I am that when reading works in pre-modern English, read them aloud. This advice has worked wonders toward my enjoyment of the poems even at the risk of my wife preferring I spend early evenings at a small room on the far side of the house.
I've read them various poems from the Exeter book, but it's never been a success, even when I explain the answer. On the other hand, they're more interested in riddles now, so it might work.
I got them to sit through The Dream of the Rood, and my explanation of it, but it was a real stretch.
So for kids, Beowulf is best.
chairmansteve•2h ago
Jtsummers•2h ago
> You’ll also be able to join the very first Dead Language Society summer book club(!), where we’ll be reading Beowulf together. We’ll compare translations against the original Old English and explore the historical and cultural context of the poem. Along the way, I’ll explain all the deep lore that most readers miss.
That said, there's nothing wrong with including Beowulf in a course teaching Old English. When I studied it in college it was one of many texts that we read, which was helpful because a lot of people had read parts of Beowulf in modern English previously so there was a lot of context in reading it that was absent in some of the other texts.
jfengel•2h ago
But I think that a thoughtfully edited set of Beowulf extracts is a great place to start. It helps that you can start at the beginning, because the prologue is really good.
Another thing I would do is to read it in conjunction with a great translation. I adore Maria Dahvana Headley's new translation: