Tolkein on Beowulf

D fi
_2 "a
#1\*
..^•atf^SS?5
J. R. R. Tolkien
venture to criticize the critics A sketch nf d,„ I • , c ,
is required. B„, I vrill hm „,,, ,, „, „ ?' ''"T ? "* S"b'M
my view of i, allegoricall, A, i, e,„,' ml T ?I ''"l>ra™
*e modern scwL, A^T S&VSST^T1
it interest the superior culture of rnrW ' A I •* • ,
document
that
it'has
J^ZZ^^t**
iTedi °^t rre ,ancI qr,ity ,of the hist^»™»«*££
embedded in it have changed much since Thorkelin called it /V
Etoonu. RefoMS G fc> thjs has rema.ned " all D
pronouncements this view is explicit In 1Q?<;p r 1 ■ f
Strong
plated
B e W / i n l Te r s e
tZIs^Zt^f.
which
is
^1 ^actus
^ ^ describes
« ^ J The
* * *main
» * »interest
,
o f the tpoem
h e has for
G eusJ S
thusnot^apurely literary interest. Beowulf is an importSl^
I make this preliminary point, because it seems to me that the air
^tive Stitt hne°d °f ft Str°ng' bUt for 0ther -re *
bee asked,
b
a s k e dwhy
w 'should
Y | , we
. approach
* * ^ " ^ rthis,
e s e aorr cindeed
h e r s . any
F t other
m a y poem
well
manly as an historical document? Such an attitude fcS2
firstly, if one is not concerned with poetry at all, but see^uZ fo '
mation wherever it may be found; secondly, if he so ell ed n em
contains in fact no poetry. I am not conceLd w^th the "1^
he his onans search is, of course, perfectly legitimate even if it
does not assist criticism in general at all (for that is not Itsoblct
so long as ,t ,s not mistaken for criticism. To Professor B^ger N t
- section, S rQ^7^7lZZmZPDl" ^T^" "*«'*«*«> - find
of History, Archaeology, I ler,, c U« nd Mv ,Autharship; Beowulf in the Ugh.
there is no section tli, names Poem's ffiofthel '"T !' !' i"1'™™"' ''"'
.deration as Poetry is accorded a, a!?is bn£1 n med S,"C,"dcd Sh"W' S"ch ™""
S = s t ^ ^
such judgements. And i, is in il,c W K ■ ,, ^'"' ""' Se,'dom co»™rncd with
over what the process of d ^csL m ,<cs of' M-'"' ™Ch ™ lhh' that w *«is .he distilled produc. of ResS h Th "1end ' "' ''"^^ "''the exPerts' "™
ten by a man who had (unlike so, e o, her m "•.'""^oyer, is competent, and writwith attention. "'" '""'"" s "' sm"li"- things) read the poem itself
Beowulf-. The Monsters and the Critics 105
man as an historian of Swedish origins Beowulf is doubtless an
important document, but he is not writing a history of English
poetry. Of the second case it may be said that to rate a poem, a thing
at the least in metrical form, as mainly of historical interest should
in a literary survey be equivalent to saying that it has no literary
merits, and little more need in such a survey then be said about it.
But such a judgement on Beowulf is false. So far from being a poem
so poor that only its accidental historical interest can still recom
mend it, Beowulf is in fact so interesting as poetry, in places poetry
so powerful, that this quite overshadows the historical content, and
is largely independent even of the most important facts (such as the
date and identity of Hygelac) that research has discovered. It is
indeed a curious fact that it is one of the peculiar poetic virtues of
Beowulf that has contributed to its own critical misfortunes. The
illusion of historical truth and perspective, that has made Beowulf
seem such an attractive quarry, is largely a product of art. The author
has used an instinctive historical sense—a part indeed of the ancient
English temper (and not unconnected with its reputed melancholy),
of which Beowulf is a supreme expression; but he has used it with a
poetical and not an historical object. The lovers of poetry can safely
study the art, but the seekers after history must beware lest the glam
our of Poesis overcome them.
Nearly all the censure, and most of the praise, that has been'
bestowed on The Beowulf has been due either to the helief that it
was something that it was not—for example, primitive, pagan, Teu
tonic, an allegory (political or mythical), or most often, an epic; or
to disappointment at the discovery that it was itself and not some
thing that the scholar would have liked better—for example, a hea
then heroic lay, a history of Sweden, a manual of Germanic j
antiquities, or a Nordic Summa Tlieolqgica.
I would express the whole industry m yet another allegory. A man
inherited a field in which was an accumulation of old stone, part of
an older hall. Of the old stone some li|ijd already been used in build
ing the house in which he actually livted, not far from the old house
of bis fathers. Of the rest he took some and built a tower. But his
friends coming perceived at once (without troubling to climb the
steps) that these stones had formerly belonged to a more ancient
building. So they pushed the tower over, with no little labour, in
order to look for hidden carvings and inscriptions, or to discover
whence the man's distant forefathers had obtained their building
material. Some suspecting a deposit of coal under the soil began to
dig for it, and forgot even the stones. They all said: This tower is
most interesting.' But they also said (after pushing it over): 'What a
muddle it is in!' And even the man's own descendants, who might
have been expected to consider what he had been about, were heard
wm>
106
J. R. R. Tolkif.in
to.murmur: He is such an odd fellow! Imagine his using these old
sones jus to build a nonsensical tower! Why did not he Ltore the
old house? He had no sense of proportion.' But from the top of that
tower the man had been able to look out upon the sea.
I hope I shall show that that allegory is just-even when we con
sider the more recent and more perceptive critics (whose concern is
Si
r T^over,Jeract
Ure)- T°
reachdecades
theSeofW
e must
Pass
d
flight
the heads
of many
critics.
As we
do soina^pi
conhcting babe mounts up to us, which I can report as something after
\ this fashion.' 'Beowulf is a half-baked native epic the developmen
o which was lulled by Latin learning; it was inspired by emulation
of Virgil, and is, product of the education that came in with Chris
tian^; it ,s feeble and incompetent as a narrative; the rules of narratrve are cleverly observed in the manner of the learned epic; it is
the confused product of a committee of muddle-headed and prob
ably beer-bemused Anglo-Saxons (this is a Gallic voice); it is a string
of pagan lays edited by monks; it is the work of a learned but inac
curate Christian antiquarian; it is a work of genius, rare and surprising m the period, though the genius seems to have been shown
principally m doing something much better left undone (this is a
very recent voice); it is a wild folk-tale (general chorus); it is a poem
or an aristocratic and courtly tradition (same voices); it is a hotch
potch; .t is a sociological, anthropological, archaeological document-
•to*!.
t if*!
*"S».
Jdown
is a mythical
allegory
old voices
generally
shouted
but not so
far out(very
as some
of thethese
newerand
cries);
it is rude
and
rough; ,t is a masterpiece of metrical art; it has no shape at all; it is
singularly weak in construction; it is a clever allegory of contempo
rary politics (old John Earle with some slight support from Mr Giryan only they look to different periods); its architecture is solid- it
is thin and cheap (a solemn voice); it is undeniably weighty (the same
voice); ,t is a national epic; it is a translation from the Danish; it was
imported by Frisian traders; it is a burden to English syllabuses; and
(final universal chorus of all voices) it is worth studying '
It is not surprising that it should now be Felt that a view, a decision
a conviction are imperatively needed. But it is plainly only in the
consideration of Beowulf as a poem, with an inherent poetic signif
icance, that any view or conviction can be reached or steadily held
For it is of their nature that the jabberwocks of historical and anti
quarian research burble in the tulgy wood of conjecture, flitting from
one turn-turn tree to another. Noble animals, whose burbling is on
occasion good to hear; but though their eyes of flame may sometimes
prove searchlights, their range is short.
5. I Include nothing that has no. somewhere heen said by someone, if not in my exnet wordsbeen tTl °f C°UrSC' ^^ t0 'C»™"< M 'hc <*"•• '"" <* oth^TSiS
Beowulf: The Monsters and the Critics
107
None the less, paths of a sort hjpe been opened in the wood.
Slowly with the rolling years the obvious (so often the last revelation
of analytic study) has been discovered: that we have to deal with a
poem by an Englishman using afresh ancient and largely traditional
material. At last then, after inquiring so long whence this material
came, and what its original or aboriginal nature was (questions that
cannot ever be decisively answered), we might also now again inquire
what the poet did with it. If we ask that question, then there is still,
perhaps, something lacking even in the major critics, the learned and
revered masters from whom we humbly derive.
The chief points with which I feel dissatisfied I will now approach
by way of W. P. Ker, whose name and memory I honour. He would
deserve reverence, of course, even if he still lived and had not ellor
gehwotfen on Frean weere6 upon a high mountain in the heart of that
Europe which he loved: a great scholar, as illuminating himself as a
critic, as he was often biting as a critic of the critics. None the less
I cannot help feeling that in approaching Beowulf he was hampered
by the almost inevitable weakness of his greatness: stories and plots
must sometimes have seemed triter to him, the much-read, than they
did to the old poets and their audiences. The dwarf on the spot
sometimes sees things missed by the travelling giant ranging many
countries. In considering a period when literature was narrower in
range and men possessed a less diversified stock of ideas and themes,
one must seek to recapture and esteem the deep pondering and pro
found feeling that they gave to such as they possessed.
In any case Ker has been potent. For his criticism is masterly,
expressed always in words both pungent and weighty, and not least
so when it is (as I occasionally venture to think) itself open to criti
cism. His words and judgements are often quoted, or reappear in
various modifications, digested, their source probably sometimes for
gotten. It is impossible to avoid quotation of the well-known passage
in hisJDarkAges:
A reasonable view of the merit of Beowulf is not impossible,
though rash enthusiasm may have made too much of it, while
a correct and sober taste may have too contemptuously refused
to attend to Grendel or the Fire-drake. The fault of Beowulf is
that therej is nothing much in the story. The hero is occupied
in killing monsters, like Hercules or Theseus. But there are
other things in the lives of Hercules and Theseus besides the
killing of tjie Hydra or of Procrustes. Beowulf has nothing else
to do, wheiii he has killed Grendel and Grendel's mother in DenmarkThe gOes"Borne to his own Qautland, until at last the rolling
years bring\the Fire-drake and his last adventure. It is too sim6. "Turned elsewhere into the Lord's protection." Tolkien's invention, patterned after pas
sages in Beowulf [Editor's translation].
108
J. R. R. Tolkien
pie. \et the three chief episodes are well wrought and well diver
sified; they are not repetitions, exactly; there is a change of
temper between the wrestling with Grendel in the night at Heorot and the descent under water to encounter Grendel's motherwhile the sentiment of the Dragon is different again. But the
great beauty, the real value, of Beowulf is in its dignity of style
In construction it is curiously weak, in a sense preposterous; for
while the main story is simplicity itself, the merest common
place ol heroic legend, all about it, in the historic allusions
there are revelations of a whole world of tragedy, plots different
in import from that of Beowulf, more like the tragic themes of
Iceland. Yet with this radical defect, a disproportion that puts
the irrelevances in the centre and the serious things on the outer
edges, the poem of Beowulf is undeniably weighty. The thing
itself is cheap; the moral and the spirit of it can only be matched
among the noblest authors.7
§> i»*J||
y
km™
P
I
f **%i»
This passage was written more than thirty years ago, but has hardly
been surpassed. It remains, in this country at any rate, a potent influ
ence. Yet its primary effect is to state a paradox which one feels has
always strained the belief, even of those who accepted it, and has
given to Beowulf the character of an 'enigmatic poem'. The chief
, virtue of the passage (not the one for which it is usually esteemed)
is that it does accord some attention to the monsters, despite correct
and sober taste. But the contrast made between the radical defect
of theme and structure, and at the same time the dignity, loftiness
in converse, and well-wrought finish, has become a commonplace
even of the best criticism, a paradox the strangeness of which has
almost been forgotten in the process of swallowing it upon author
ity.8 We may compare Professor Chambers in his Widsith, p. 79
where he is studying the story of Ingeld, son of Froda, and his feud
with the great Scylding house of Denmark, a story introduced in
Beowulf merely as an allusion.
Nothing [Chambers says] could better show the disproportion
ot Beowulf which 'puts the irrelevances in the centre and the
serious things on the outer edges', than this passing allusion
to the story of Ingeld. For in this conflict between plighted
77ie Dark Ages, pp. 252-3.
JITq^VT Kef m°.difi.ed hln a" J™*0"*"* Particular in English Literature, Medieval,
U' in', hl ^"f^*™* *n different words, vaguer and less incisive/he reS
teL^riT
the story 'ist0'd
thin and
n^ 'poor
HT But
St0ry,iS
we learn
COmm°nP,ace
also at the end of his
and
notice
thcthat.P,a"'Those
is W distracting
>rPtha
allusions to things apart from the chief story make up for their want of proportion They
give the impression of reality and weight; the story is not in the air . . Pjt is part of he
solid world By the admission of so grave an artistic reason for the procedure of the poem
Ker himself began the undermining of his own criticism of its structure. But thTs line o
thought does not seem to have heen further pursued. Possibly it was this very Uuoht
working ,n his mmd, that made Ker', notice of Beoundfin the small later book, his "h ling
shocker, more vague and hesitant in tone, and so of less influence. g
BEOWULF: TflE MONSTERS AND THE CRITICS
109
troth and the duty of revenge we have a situation which the
old heroic poets loved, and would not have sold for a wilder
ness of dragons.
I pass over the fact that the allusion has a dramatic purpose in
Beowulf that is a sufficient defence; toth of its presence and of its
manner. The author of Beowulf cannot be held responsible for the
fact that we now have only his poem and not others dealing primarily
with Ingeld. He was not selling one thing for another, but giving
something new. But let us return to the dragon. 'A wilderness of
dragons.' There is a sting in this Shylockian plural, the sharper for
coming from a critic, who deserves the title of the poet's best friend.
It is in the tradition of the Book of St. Albans, from which the poet
might retort upon his critics: 'Yea, a desserte of Iapwyngs, a shrewednes of apes, a raffull of knaues, and a gagle of gees.'
As for the poem, one dragon, however hot, does not make a sum
mer, or a host; and a man might well exchange for one good dragon
what he would not sell for a wilderness. And dragons, real dragons,
essential both to the machinery and the ideas of a poem or tale, are
actually rare. In northern literature there are only two that are sig
nificant. If we omit from consideration the vast and vague Encircler
of the World, Midgardsormr, the doom of the great gods and no
matter for heroes, we have but the dragon of the Volsungs, Fafnir,
and Beowulf's bane. It is true that both of these are in Beowulf one
in the main story, and the other spoken of by a minstrel praising
Beowulf himself. But this is not a wilderness of dragons. Indeed the
allusion to the more renowned worm killed by the Waelsing is suf
ficient indication that the poet selected a dragon of well-founded
purpose (or saw its significance in the plot as it had reached him),
even as he was careful to compare his hero, Beowulf son of Ecgtheow, to the prince of the heroes of the North, the dragon-slaying
Waelsing. He esteemed dragons, as rare as they are dire, as some do
still. He liked them—as a poet, not as a sober zoologist; and he had
good reason.
But wc meet this kind of criticism again. In Chambers's Beowulf
andtheJieroieAge—the most significant single essay on the poem
that I know^it is still present. The riddle is still unsolved. The folk
tale motive stands still like the spectre of old research, dead but
unquiet in its grave. We are told again that the main story of Beowulf
is a wild folk-tale. Quite true, of course. It is true of the main story
of King Leary unless in that case you would prefer to substitute silly
for wild. But more: we are told that the same sort of stuff is found
in Homer, yet there it is kept in its proper place. 'The folk-tale is a
good servant', Chambers says, and does not perhaps realize the
importance of the admission, made to save the face of Homer and
110
J. R. R. Tolkien
Beowulf: The Monsters and the Critics
to be no aku al VTl "*"■*«*»<&<> epic, ll may .urn oui
discourse Ppo„ " het S S"" C<"""",«S-,'" th« "»" «««
melanchol/oue ,il „aTk t f ,rP|,™rS';0"f<,_,down al"»" •» •
*. wi.,^H„etz,„:u L'iifr/»„t s ::is,n ,'°
judgment there were aH an 1 * JeCt' Wlle" f° °Ur modern
l j , f hand so ma"y greater charo^I ™*U fU
splendour and tragedy of humanirv Lj n largecI w,th the
» *<« IS
y
tie*,'
talent, we are to understand I? n BeoM'»# Yet this poetic
■table theme Is S on £5 bee"sfandered °" «" "nprof-
111
that for that design there is a defence that may still have force, would
seem more probable.
It has been too little observed that all the machinery of 'dignity' is
to be found elsewhere. Cynewulf, or the author of Andreas, or of
Guthlac (most notably), have a command of dignified verse. In them
there is well-wrought language, weighty words, lofty sentiment, pre
cisely that which we are told is the real beauty of Beowulf Yet it
cannot, I think, be disputed, that Beowulf is more beautiful, that
each line there is more significant (even when, as sometimes hap
pens, it is the same line) than in the other long Old English poems.
Where then resides the special virtue of Beowulf if the common
element (which belongs largely to the language itself, and to a literary
tradition) is deducted?. It resides, one might guess, in the theme, and
the spiriohishajs. infuse^ in fact, if there were
a real discrepancy between theme and style, that style Would not be
felt as beautiful but as incongruous or false. And that incongruity is
present in some measure in all the long Old English poems, save
one—Beowujf, The paradoxical contrast that has been drawn
between matter &nd manned in Beowulf has thus an inherent literary
improbability.
Why then have the great critics thought otherwise? I must pass
rather hastily over the answers to this question. The reasons are
various, I think, and would take long to examine. I believe that one
reason is that the shadow of research has lain upon criticism. The
habit, for instance, of pondering a summarized plot of Beowulf
denuded of all that gives it particular force or individual life, has
encouraged the notion that its main story is wild, or trivial, or typical,
even after treatment. Yet all stories, great and small, are one or more
of these three things in such nakedness. The comparison of skeleton
'plots' is simply not a critical literary process at all. It has been favou
red by research in comparative folk-lore, the objects of which are
U remained base o, .ri.ia! „„enP ,,e UW?jftS
, i-
of .he £3 ^tfZ":'n'S C"y """* J6'0" "" ^
-
«
leas,
*.
u,
9. Forw«m* to Strong's translation, p. xxvi: see note 3.
.„
JS^C^S
primarily historical or scientific.1 Another reason is, I think, that the
allusions have attracted curiosity (antiquarian rather than critical)
to their elucidation; and this needs so much study and research that
attention has been diverted from the poem as a whole, and from the
1. It has also been favoured by the rise of'English schools', in whose syllabuses Beowulf has
inevitably some place, and the consequent production of compendious literary histories.
For these cater (in fact, if not in intention) for those seeking knowledge about, and readymade judgements upon, works which they have not the time, or (often enough) the desire,
to know at first hand. The small literary value of such summaries is sometimes recognized
in the acTof giving them. Thus Strong (op. cit.) gives a fairly complete one, but remarks
that 'the short summary does scant justice to the poem'. Ker in E. Lit. {Med.) says: 'So
told, in abstract, it is not a particularly interesting story.' He evidently perceived what
might be the retort, for he attempts to justify the procedure in this case, adding: 'Told in
this way the story of Theseus or Hercules would still have much more in it.' I dissent. But
it does not matter, for the comparison of two plots 'told in this way' is no guide whatever
to the merits of literary versions told in quite different ways. It is not necessarily the best
poem that loses least in precis.
\^jv_
112
J. R. R. Tolkien
is Wge.y independent of:u:htvtt!;;rat,0n * *" ""**»
« • b y n a t u r e s u p e r i o r. D o o m i h S l e s T " ^ ^ ^ P ' a n e
proposition seems to have h en paled a ^ thwa^r^ The
at the risk of being he.d in'rle 7^ZtlTZ ^ l™
enter into debate, nor attempt a* Z T i r ' WI" not here
mode of imagination and the if *■ defenCe °f the m^h{^
between mytlfand foVtall ntotnlctth ^^ °f "* C°nfusi°"
have fallen. The myth h« other f ^ JI,dgements aPPea' to
mythical allego^ of natu^rthesmiThe *" ("°W discredi^)
things. The term 'folk ral7;' . ,'• eaSO"S' the sea> and ^ch
^ e c ofu course,
e ^ ^ ^is ^ merelvan ahstr^ ^ the tyPical fo,k"
tale',
existing-do often cTnta^n J C°"CePtlon °f research nowhere
little even pote I. v r ue buTtTev T "* ^ ^ «*"*• W'th
more powerful and thT' l,Y . ° C°ntain much that is far
being derived romlt or capaWe ^ T^ ^ m*h'
that Is of becoming Lgl/sCfianrr iV' ^^ into lfc
y
alysed. The significance of a Zt a, Wh°'e' accePted unarby analytical -^U^^^ * * «*"* °» PaPwho feels rather than makes expidtwlatb S PreSented by * P°Ct
presents it incarnate in the ^Srf^o™ an^T "T^ ^
poet has done. Its defender is thus at a T 7 ^^P^' as our
careful, and speaks in parlbles I e wIIkt .tT f8* Un'eSS he is
vivisection, and he will beTeft^ , a"o ma K " "P*"* **
and what is more, probab. yUh o eZ LiH^t ^ rF3"^?
P
iI **• i»i|wi
is alive at once and in all its nan.: ™,l I- L r For mvth
It is possible, I think to be mn H If* "^ * Can be dissectedmisunderstand he sens.tbn to ^ ^J, °f myth and vet *•
that
is
a.so
present^
^Z^:^^^^
dragons; we then perceive it," mte !,8ent hv,ng P.eople-in ogres and
it hfs de'rived ^fr^^T™1 T ^ °f "" ^ faCt that
unfashionable creatures Even V T"1 ""V* aCtUa"y aboi,t these
2. Ha„,ar(ia, the Aristotelian tern, f„r „ her„.s tragic „aw |&/,w|
Beowulf: The Monsters and the Critics
113
at any rate, on my side: a greater man than most of us. And I cannot
myself perceive a period in the North when one kind alone was
esteemed: there was room for myth and heroic legend, and for blends
of these. As for the dragon: as far as we know anything about these
old poets, we know this: the prince of the heroes of the North,
supremely memorable—hans nafn mun uppi tnedan verbldin
stendr*—was a dragon-slayer. And his most renowned deed, from
which in Norse he derived his title Fafnisbani, was the slaying of the
prince of legendary worms. Although there is plainly considerable
difference between the later Norse and the ancient English form of
the story alluded to in Beowulf, already there it had these two primary
features: the dragon, and the slaying of him as the chief deed of the7
greatest of heroes—he wses wreccena wide maerost.4 A dragon is no
idle fancy. Whatever may be his origins, in fact or invention, the
dragon in legend is a potent creation of men's imagination, richer in
significance than his barrow is in gold. Even to-day (despite the crit
ics) you may find men not ignorant of tragic legend and history, who
have heard of heroes and indeed seen them, who yet have been
caught by the fascination of the worm. More than one poem in
recent years (since Beowulf escaped somewhat from the dominion
of the students of origins to the students of poetry) has been inspired
by the dragon of Beowulf but none that I know of by Ingeld son of
Froda. Indeed, I do not think Chambers very happy in his particular
choice. He gives battle on dubious ground. In so far as we can now
grasp its detail and atmosphere the story of Ingeld the thrice faithless
and easily persuaded is chiefly interesting as an episode in a larger
theme, as part of a tradition that had acquired legendary, and so
dramatically personalized, form concerning moving events in history:
the arising of Denmark, and wars in the islands of the North. In
itself it is not a supremely potent story. But, of course, as with all
tales of any sort, its literary power must have depended mainly upon
how it was handled. A poet may have made a great thing of it. Upon
this chance must be founded the popularity of Ingeld's legend in
England, for which there is some evidence.5 There is no inherent
magical virtue about heroic-tragic stories as such, and apart from the
merits of individual treatments. The same heroic plot can yield good
and bad poems, and good and bad sagas. The recipe for the central
3. "And his [Sigurd's] name will endure while the world remains," ch. 12, The Saga of the
Volsungs, trans.Jesse L. Byock (Berkeley: U of California P, 1990), p. 54 [Editor].
4. "He was the most famous of exiles," Beowulf lines 898-99 [Editor's translation].
5. Namely the use of it in 'Beowulf, both dramatically in depicting the sagacity of Beowulf
the hero, and as an essential part of the traditions concerning the Scylding court, which
is the legendary background against which the rise of the hero is set—as a later age would
have chosen the court of Arthur. Also the probahle allusion in Alcuin's letter to Speratus:
see Chambers's Widsith, p. 78.
114
J. R. R. Tolkien
situations of such stories, studied in the abstract, is after all as 'sim
ple' and as 'typical' as that of folktales. There are in any case many
heroes but very few good dragons. v
Beowulf's dragon, if one wishes really to criticize, is not to be
blamed for being a dragon, but rather for not being dragon enough,
plain pure fairy-story dragon. There are in the poem some vivid
touches of the right kind—as pa se wyrm onwoc, wroht wses geniwad;
stone after staney 22856—in which this dragon is real worm, with a
bestial life and thought of his own, but the conception, none the
less, approaches draconitas rather than draco: a personification of
malice, greed, destruction (the evil side of heroic life), and of the
undiscriminating cruelty of fortune that distinguishes not good or
bad (the evil aspect of all life). But for Beowidf the poem, that is as
it should be. In this poem the balance is nice, but it is preserved.
The large symbolism is near the surface, but it does not break
through, nor become allegory. Something more significant than a
standard hero, a man faced with a foe more evil than any human
enemy of house or realm, is before us, and yet incarnate in time,
walking in heroic history, and treading the named lands of the North!
And this, we are told, is the radical defect of Beowulf that its author,
•f. till »*l 1
y'
% w \
\
*"%,*i'i
\ r. i
1 .iMt
coming in a time rich in the legends of heroic men, has used them
afresh in an original fashion, giving us not just one more, but some
thing akin yet different: a measure and interpretation of them all.
We do not deny the worth of the hero by accepting Grendel and
the dragon. Let us by all means esteem the old heroes: men caught
in the chains of circumstance or of their own character, torn between
duties equally sacred, dying with their backs to the wall. But Beowidf
I fancy, plays a larger part than is recognized in helping us to esteem
them. Heroic lays may have dealt in their own way—we have little
enough to judge by—a way more brief and vigorous, perhaps, though
perhaps also more harsh and noisy (and less thoughtful), with the
actions of heroes caught in circumstances that conformed more or
less to the varied but fundamentally simple recipe for an heroic sit
uation. In these (if we had them) we could see the exaltation of
undefeated will, which receives doctrinal expression in the words of
Byrhtwold at the battle of Maldon.7 But though with sympathy and
patience we might gather, from a line here or a tone there, the back
ground of imagination which gives to this indomitability, this paradox
of defeat inevitable yet unacknowledged, its full significance, it is in
Beowulf that a poet has devoted a whole poem to the theme, and
has drawn the struggle in different proportions, so that we may see
6. "When the dragon awoke, strife was renewed; he sniffed along the stone," lines 2287-88
[Editors translation].
7. This expression may well have been actually used by the eald geneat, but none the less
(or perhaps rather precisely on that account) is probably to be regarded not as new-minted"
but as an ancient and honoured gnome of long descent.
BEOWULF: THE MONSTERS AND THE CRITICS
115
man at war with the hostile world, and his inevitable overthrow in
Time.8 The particular is on the outer edge, the essential in the centre.
Of course, I do not assert that the poet, if questioned, would have
replied in the Anglo-Saxon equivalents of these terms. Had the mat
ter been so explicit to him, his poem would certainly have been the
worse. None the less we may still, against his great scene, hung with
tapestries woven of ancient tales of ruin, see the haeled walk. When
we have read his poem, as a poem, rather than as a collection of
episodes, we perceive that he who wrote haeled under heofenum may
have meant in dictionary terms 'heroes under heaven', or mighty
men upon earth', but he and his hearers were thinking of the eormengrund, the great earth, ringed with garsecg, the shoreless sea,
beneath the sky's inaccessible roof; whereon, as in a little circle of
light about their halls, men with courage as their stay went forward
to that battle with the hostile world and the offspring of the dark
which ends for all, even the kings and champions, in defeat. That
even this geography, once held as a material fact, could now be
classed as a mere folk-tale affects its value very little. It transcends
astronomy. Not that astronomy has done anything to make the island
seem more secure or the outer seas less formidable.
Beowulf is not, then, the hero of an heroic lay, precisely. He has
no enmeshed loyalties, nor hapless love. He is a man, and that for
him and many is sufficient tragedy. It is not an irritating accident that
the tone of the poem is so high and its theme so low. It is the theme
in its deadly seriousness that begets the dignity of tone: lifts laene:
eal scseced leoht and lif somod.9 So deadly and ineluctable is the
underlying thought, that those who in the circle of light, within the
besieged hall, are absorbed in work or talk and do not look to the
battlements, either do not regard it or recoil. Death comes to the
feast, and they say He gibbers: He has no sense of proportion.
I would suggest, then, that the monsters are not an inexplicable
blunder of taste; they are essential, fundamentally allied to the
underlying ideas of the poem, which give it its lofty tone and high
seriousness. The key to the fusion-point of imagination that pro
duced this poem lies, therefore, in those very references to Cain
which have often been used as a stick to beat an ass—taken as an
evident sign (were any needed) of the muddled heads of early AngloSaxons. They could not, it was said, keep Scandinavian bogie and
the Scriptures separate in their puzzled brains. The New Testament
8. For the words hige sceal fre heardra, heorte Ipe cenre, mod sceal [>e mare \te ure msegen
lytlad are not, of course, an exhortation to simple courage. They are not reminders that
fortune favours the brave, or that victory may be snatched from defeat by the stubborn.
(Such thoughts were familiar, but otherwise expressed: wyrd oft nered unfsegne eorl, \>onne
his ellen dealt.) The words of Byrhtwold were made for a man's last and hopeless day.
9. "Life is transitory: all light and life departs together." Tolkien's invention, patterned after
Old English gnomic verse [Editor's translation].
116
J. R. R. loLKIEN
was beyond their comprehension. I am „ot, as I have confessed a
man so d.hgent as duly to read all the books about BeZ^Ztl
far as I am aware the most suggestive approach to this point appears
referred.1 I will quote a small part of it. y
t'han'thTof GreBee0m'-f " "l™ ** more wM a"d Primit"e
S h fthe
Q Sermon
• * b r o uon
g hthe
t i nMount,
t o t o uVith
c h Catholic
w i t h C htheology
r i s t e n d oand
m
wtth
deas of Heaven and Hell. We see the difference, if we cornpare
the wdder thmgs-the folk-tale element-in Beowulf wiZh"
wilder things of Homer. Take for example the tale of Odysseus
and the Cyclops-the No-man trick. Odysseus is strugghng wkh
a monstrous and wicked foe, but he is not exactly thought 0fas
trugglmg with the powers of darkness. Polyphemus, bydevour
•ng his guests, acts in a way which is hateful to Zeus and the
other gods: yet the Cyclops is himself god-begotten and under
divine protection, and the fact that OdysseuAas maimeu him
s a wrong which Poseidon is slow to forgive. But the glan7c
gZ tZe?l ^A t0 "1eet arC ide"'fied With ^^ of
t It l which
U thC,s drag°n
constantly
referred
to in with
lan
guage
meant toare
recall
the powers
of darkness
are't.ie
are
the inmates
WT ofTh"
Hell', ^'adversaries
tlrSdVeS
of God1,
l° be
'offspring
~P-sed
of Cain'
T^
str:rB:owrnk,nd\Consec,uent,y-the
°f t>- from
™i
story or Beowulf, monstrous as it is, is not so <-«far removed
common mediaeval experience as it seems to us to be fro JTour
own . Grendel hardly differs-' from the fiends of the pit who
3 t7ufor
lu r.bUSh
t0 Waylay
righteoUS
And «oHeroic
Beo
wulf,
all that he
moves inathe
world of ma»the primitive
Age of the Germans, nevertheless is almost a Christian knight"
There are some hints here which are, I think, worth pursuing further
SrX of" God't0 r't h°W 3nd Why tHe --ers8become
adversaries o God, and so begin to symbolize (and ultimately to
become identified with) the powers of evil, even while the" emain
as they do st.ll remain in Beonndf, mortal denizens of the maTerS
world, m ,t and of it I accept without argument throughout the
attribution of Beowulf to the 'age of Bede'-lone of the firmer Un
clus.ons of a department of research most clearly serviceab^^ critcsm: mquiry mto the probable date of the effective composition of
the poem as we have it. So regarded Beowulf is, of course, an his1. ForexvmJ [„ Strongs translation, p. xxviii. See note 3
2' «^Tja,K5i!r iS ""' ■*«-■•»'- -'• — which are app.ied to
3. He differs in important points, referred to later.
BEOWULF: THE MONSTERS AND THE CRITICS
117
torical document of the first order for the study of the mood and
thought of the period and one perhaps too little used for the purpose
"By professed historians.5 But it is the mood of the author, the essen
tial cast of his imaginative apprehension of the world, that is my
concern, not history for its own sake; I am interested in that time of
fusion only as it may help us to understand the poem. And in the
poem I think we may observe not confusion, a half-hearted or a
muddled business, but a fusion that has occurred at a given point
of contact between old and new, a product of thought and deep
emotion.
One of the most potent elements in that fusion is the Northern
courage: the theory of courage, which is the great contribution of
early Northern literature. This is not a military judgement. I am not
asserting that, if the Trojans could have employed a Northern king
and his companions, they would have driven Agamemnon and Achil
les into the sea, more decisively than the Greek hexameter routs the
alliterative line—though it is not improbable. I refer rather to the
central position the creed of unyielding will holds in the North. With
due reserve we may turn to the tradition of pagan imagination as it
survived in Icelandic. Of English pre-Christian mythology we know
practically nothing. But the fundamentally similar heroic temper of
ancient England and Scandinavia cannot have been founded on (or
perhaps rather, cannot have generated) mythologies divergent on
this essential point. The Northern Gods', Ker said, 'have an exultant
extravagance in their warfare which makes them more like Titans
than Olympians; only they are on the right side, though it is not the
side that wins. The winning side is Chaos and Unreason*—mythologically, the monsters—'but the gods, who are defeated, think that defeat
no refutation'.6 And in their war men are their chosen allies, able
when heroic to share in this 'absolute resistance, perfect because
without hope'. At least in this vision of the final defeat of the humane
(and of the divine made in its image), and in the essential hostility
of the gods and heroes on the one hand and the monsters on the
other, we may suppose that pagan English and Norse imagination
agreed.
But in England this imagination was brought into touch with
Christendom, and with the Scriptures. The process of 'conversioiV
was a long one, but some of its effects were doubtless immediate: an
alchemy of change (producing ultimately the mediaeval) was at once
at work. One does not have to wait until all the native traditions of
the older world have been replaced or forgotten; for the minds which
5. It is, for instance, dismissed cursorily, and somewhat contemptuously in the recent (some
what contemptuous) essay of Dr. Watson, Thej\ge^of Bede in Bede, His Life, Times, and
Writings, ed. A. Hamilton Thompson, 1935.
6. The Dark Ages, p. 57.
-3 g O — £
Ix'g
& o> vfi>-o .2 cj
.a „ u
2-5-3
•=.£
I 11p
CD -a y_s CJ 3 cj
CL c DCTj
£ .5 '35 ra
>^ ^
^
*.s £c£
s- ex; ~
^^^
cu
TJ E
^d
CO
cj o
^ -a
5 cC D"5C S
< .S
u*
~3 0)
CU <U "3
3-°
o -a
o o
-
z
c
W
Si
ft
I- cu
CU Xrf 0) r
c
o
C
C>-3
CD
^ S © Sol
>
-r>a
o ^ ojo
ft
*
u
w
>
2
C8
^
CJ cl C
c a -5 S «-^
R co
c 2cd otL.
o
. cd <u
o
,o> **
4-1 Um n
^
cd . O
C
D
d
-s -a cis
&
r^
^
—
CC
C
D
CD
D
CX
O
^
U
*J
«
C
^
cd O
-Ci,
o
s
E .S-5
^3 ^
""
S E
CD Cv w
cd „c
CL CU
C
C^
cd ^
-=
J5
cd
JC
»- CU
cd
f5
CL c
_
§I
o cu
C "cd
cu cu
cd ^
4-J
cu Ot -
c
u
3
C
j
t
i
>
,
—
ft
4^
CL
«
"3
C
—
wj
cu ^S
00
33
CL rj
a
CL §
«
_.
«
CL^ft
:s^ cr-=_a
D
cc
^
w
>
^
o cd
■c-5
o
* :-* i
u CU
r^ c ^
H •= -C
I? ^cu
o *+
-fa cu*
cc u
CL C
or> ;CC
CU 4J.
cc
cu M O
uc
!,
*W5
^
^
ja 55
cu
O _g^
c^ ft -"
3 -H W
C o «
o q; - fc^ E
j c "53 i2
cd "2■C *S
^
c -a £
J3
cu> cc>
4^
T3
O
"T3
'
o >, c
c/i O ^
U
U
W
4-»
^
U-
ccu cc
c ^^
> O ^3 • CU
3
CJ
•pis s « g£s" &a a„ ws
^ r 24 - ^^
ft-f
6|S-3S
S ^ o S 5r
K P
c ^ *?: *n cj
3
.5 S g 5 •«
z 5;
§
2 C
C U sC c3
^ -I
^°J ■£
- ig ^ ^ o 8
«"5 ^^5 ^£ Si ct
^.st?
C
>^"^
cc
j^ j - c ' E x , uf_t - aw c u I^ I^ r ; I^
^
--3
C cu
£-£
-c
~ . -3
4J
r
cj Cj
C l T:
cc ju e c—T ~
C~
J;
B
i;
>
»
SL.X
w
^
«c
f|:--gy--|^||.|g|^||
4V CJ , ft cc cu
>2
w
P = ? r X " X c >—- f rN
f
■•£.£*" ~ c c 2 « -Si
cr CU
CU .— VJ xz
.«
•' "kCL
"2« ■'•=•?=.=
=~c
^ -c¥y
^
re .. — 1_
£ en ^ £ -
"Pcu
. cc o
3"> .2 ^ 3
3 2
u -=v
r ^L^ C
5 C C= rCxU
C
§ «"^H^^
cc
5g^-5
o c fc.
^ c v Z=c^~
v 2 c —'
O —
-. cc - O T 3^ C» ^^^ §k- f ja C5L
li cu.| «^ ^i:j & r"^^^ S-S
CO
ucj^Sx^ftScj^
"U
"4~
t y.
CZ
——
^
I-
K
y- 4 i
. £«
>
CC
—'
T3
w
J y t" c S= ^-^ 3 S -r, «« X -c ^ c
C * ^-.C
. _ co- d Co - ^. S—i JrC r^r ?C " 7_1 =
_
—
-j; C
r ei C° _ r—
e re
j •£ i = 5 r -^ ^ j
^~ ftT"r CC "T tTTT Oj_£T
E- - S v
-B
I-
-C
r=
^4 -
r y ;^ $
'
c
c - 2f t j«!
- C L£ * - ■£
- 3 C^J C»U Si - -s 2 « S^ ? ' £'£ rl.fc ...I" £^~ "
..
^
^
-.
"•
a^5^5"3c ^ x= x't e
^ n-a
CU CJ
cu
O >> r c Xcc
i Xcj cxs
u _"z:
?
4-»
M
r-
.= = ^s,r--cr ^ Ji = ^ •=-« c
i t
C 0w
o c ^c - -« : c^ « 2 c j c c
f- c 2 .
O W
CL
^
C d ^
Cd Cd *J .3 k. o
c ?^ w>
cc 5W 3
■£ ^
ft
^- ^_ „Q "ZJ £• 4-i Or: *-i C
CJ "3 w ,^i «X^ O "^ • t*--
(a
- u^ ^ o S £ *u" gi ^pj * S ^ - — c c c c
CC
cc
13-r13 cai
*> *™
3
X:
cc
cj q; >%-C ^
cu ^ rS
° 3 X T ^cu
> f t3
O*cu
C «- V 4 - »
5
C;
«
I
£
.ti
C
"O
<cc e v> 4 _ j ~ ' - j y C O d
CU >^ O cc ft u -3
£
° - 5/5 IE -S 3 B Cj — c l a ^ f e . a * ? ^ ^
c u I S ^ 0 2 ^^ "3 "£ ft C c X J - i I - L f t i - * ' v « c U
CU <ii |> | ii ~> «*f t.> Ec
-c
I —' S
# . ccX cc w e -^ -S ^
C
0>
L
£
D^
2^ E
cl £
££.£•£
,
ra
CD >
Ij,^ re CO-S S3 ,£
-C cu ■*cd cu
C1oc.E
^
C3
f
.E2
"ft cc '?
c c .a
1-
( 11 ~
cc 4-.
—
??•; —
2 ^ - o
J: c=s
rt c 2 cu t4^
iC S—
c Tw
D o «^ c
uc cc O e 23 .b ^i- S « £ c
O *^ cc
o
r-g CU ..
c
u
c
u
—■<
C
U
g
^
r
e U X T !
&.S j3 «-*-< cu X*
^
4J
^
V3
a •- ccc
cu
C -E X^ j32 13
CL CU
•z:
o
C O^C
3
*-!
cc "*
XuX'-e^S^
^ - - >
>^
4-. ~a
o 3 <
T3 .22 cu
13 -C J5
c ^
CL*?
2 ^ ^. cc
"2 o £ £
O "~
14--
CU </5
cd
o c
— CU
^ >
(4-1 CJj
ae
U
E^ 2
a
CU vm
"O —
cu
o 2 E cu
o ^
4^
DX
s «»
cu O
-T3
o ^ Z2
u c
3
CL Cd
O cd
O cu
ft VCC
^d T NO
EC—
^p c
a;
C
U O
c d ^ c *-
E oi
•«
CD CU O
^ "^
cu
3« ^
u - i - - 3 CO cd *C
•
c
c
0) i
CD
o
2« '£oD
J 3 E-5 - o c
x
cd TJij §O a .a
CO
C
cd
^
cu h
u
.S2 « 4cu
-» <U
E
"
s cu
C cu
55
/
*c 2
Q
> cd
S V
*" CL
I !
£
rin j=* j
c .2u
> cc
£a 5
C L o ^ k.
r "-£
b
uc
2
c
a
q;
cu
-5 u £ 3 -C^
Sd^ .E 3 o
- CU~
X CL 3 & £ </> _
»
u
cc — xi S ?* 3 ~ -*= -g S t5 CI rC, *CTU * j .4 - »ci w C j~CU
O
g
8
S
w
*^
cu
-a
j;
o
^
C
U
c .^-a cu
^C Uu^ cu
J3
o
— cuft «« w r S_
C L - -ft
0 3 i- — O 3
Xj CU '^-' -. ^ *5S 43 C
a cu ^
c
4- CC
■= w .£ to c S .2 ^ s s _C L4, J. f t CcCj
* TJ
.-a
*
Qi ■.E cu^=^
c j
4. , | S 8
S) &
Z
. b - c ^ ^ -a -a — u
c rm
3 C U 3HJS 2 4 - * 3 * - • f t
cs TJ
o—< 3 - ' - C L ^
CC "3
cu U CJ _
cu c; ,S2 ft
8 CCU
P S -r 2
o
uc
J;
a
^
5
.3 CU l> us
x: -fj vs cl.
^
O
O
C
S"S
ws C --3 3 ca CL 3 —
C L O , - , C U «cu
> Xi
*0)
*"
^
CC
cc "5 ^ ro C O " ^ C
J CJ
£ £ o cu
U
.
^ ^. § "a ^ cu
u
CC $
-1- =
^
>
"
•
a
^
g
-o
C
J
c
j
r-^ W J^
*s M JS •ti i; ^
-3 3
9> 3 £•* S S-j:&c-K^"3
x«i x^
_
•-"
ft-(
ft"<
(^A
cd
2
°-
E C D
cd
C
D
si
^2
cd
■5 * H
C5JDCO
6£
. s - s ■■■
W
O
3 c/j
Cy
CU (A
H3 m
CU
d
^3 C
C
cd T 3 C
C
cd c -£
r
CL C
-C I
■£ "cc •£ cc g u_— ccc u "cc
cj vj I
ox - fe S ^ °
o P .5 5 s e * • qS ^ a
?
>HVg
.S E
2 «
'" -a
c
aS «
U
i&» CO "O cu *e ^u c cu c cu
fcj -^ cc
,U
<
§§s
^ E *^ «
—
3
O
c d4 - ,>r ^
C
r— cu ^ -a j2 ,co
~
CC
o ^
c P
H) cc ri '£ ** w
o
CD g
Cd q;
c 13
^ cc^
CD (^
a s .
•£ c ^ - ^
J-l
£1 fl£
1
^
_
C
«
.r: cd £ ^c
*^ CL c *"*
I8
o E
CD !
S■
00 —
_, >
c > -
O -3
•4-J
-5 -£ 2 •-
DC
*3 °
"O cu o OJC
rr .«« cu
"3 -C
^ *- cu .2 '
5 c c ^ i U CU
cu *£ CC cc O E •§ 8 •§
°c c3d 1 2
^2 .£
SEo
CL
c J2
go *
Cl .
P-i-O
4J
cd •"*
(D CD
43 qj a> Er
j5 _c *j 4-» 4-> *j
U
I"
> u*
s § § 8S
C
*
CO
S CD
cu C
T3 ex n -^ S^ td
.a C .. H 3-3 s»
£ 0) cd
c .tp
ft
o E
£ co cu *i
u cu
S" n> C 3
H
CU cu
3
-^
.5 -cu-
CL
Cd >
CD >
iJ?
2 2J} ^« fti
O
O
^_ <U 05 1- "£ *— «J
n
^
y>
-r
.- v.- x~r>
~ >^ cc -a 2
o cc
cu
cc ^
53 .£ Cd.
£ cu 6
CU
CO JC
CU 4-1
cd cd
DC >
C
^
CJ V5
*OJ0 £
^ 9JL U *=< o
P
U3
3 ^
c= u« >f t> ^C 3U
^ o
m
•£ g ^ ■£ .2 ~
C/3
• cj .,1
C > C
S «5 « 1? i © 2J ■5 i *> 3
cu P
o {x c _r
1« *o S§ c23^ go
JZ
^CJU>cCCCCC-0£cCftZ=
^
1c
o
r
ii
?
P
*S
-
-
q;
0)
"t:
£.
"T5
x:
C J —■—
cc<
t>c>
^% «£ o^ ^" or S
• = . -^p C . £ o=
c'5 t: fc =
X |£« p: E
. f^
W
; <._c-o o
^
i
r
■S S - % h w f e £ > ?
JS£;0;1Bc
■l ^ i & J I l s . . K ^ : : , - - F % - :
C! ^ D C ^ "1 ' ' ^i CU' to to >■» *- >-x *\,
--__.^ "^3 2£ SU ccC
8
tt
3
CO cu
.y -3
O
'
0 ) cc <£ to
_ 3 cj
cj 73 -t* ^S • C
f t t oD f t
^>
2 a
3
cj
fc X3
x
£
3 C 3
o «x
cu
?«W
X
« C «5
4-1 "^ ft
W 4) t.2
e^i:^"
-o U CJ=
E-a
>
c « e >..wSi-?
tB.Cwv,*uUO ■—*4J-—
£ --—
i= •
*>
X
P
c
. cC U73j 3 cjc c —«
E
.S;
_- - cu
~ xz 4-»
3 -c 3 S "- > ^ o
r • " t o u x cu cc «-»
„, (A
S 4cC
- > CU
"3
CU
j- *CL
« (; c »
c c -s •: z
4) «5 ■ r;
rO
r ^l
« -O £ 4>
£ re "£•£
8-° ~ c
£5
-£" « g re ^JS-J^
."> « J! c j; re £>c ?
c •£ "^ re
-t: « o
r^
Oft. £ «
u —; ±3 c
at
*
4) u.
re *
C>
/
CC
c
-
3 ▶&.•—v*-<ure
E S «ft*° £ «
o^i^^ 2f'c 5 | «
•5 -• «
-p w w •=
o
z
<
c
11
^ O 4» H
? .re^g £ £ii^
4> T ^ —«
v~t > C w re 5b-S
-f| «c« .2 P.HP
« ^ o
X 4 ) « " r e 0 i > r e ^ : - u .
z
re .£
£ 3
i<! i-
21. £ rE
o
1-1 s
3 .tJ r ciJ 2 r«£ g B ex^r5^^
&
e/5
c^cj.S£
0
***
*-•
tn
O
P"S
Pr—Ift^
^ S
O J
>> o
£ c ° o
,75 a.**- =3
CJ
.cdc^CLcd4Jc3r^T3J2
-
I /~" CJ 2* e £ "*. ,J£
Cd Oj
4J
CU'3
' 3
§<U < t«
* P
£
.^^
c >> c "S
C
cu 3
•P 3 .E g ft cc _g J, rj »
cu P
§ cu
3
.2 cc v jj ^ ^ 3 .a rs •£ 5 3 j= -2 g
^ *-- o
- ^ 2 4 >
3cn 4)
«-
8 ot o U Xcj3
CJ< - X- CC ££ g{ CC
"3 "o J7 to
£
^ X3
Cd C
cc 4-»
3
^
to
cu cu
r* cc
.3
•*-*
-p N.
-5 ^ cj 5r
o o •■X} ^
jiSc »
Si b,..5 s
cj^a go e
3 > ■£ £ *)
cj
-3
a roCr=^
3
C
_;
^
£ I ■§ i !
"-' 6\ ft* -ft )m
DM
CO
M^
p
o
u
!!'-ltS.
•5 3; ^ - « -o
K
P
CO cj cj XV M> •'
CJ
cu 3" cu c
p ^ _a „ .cj -cu
to
^3
-3
5 TO
22 2 S
fee .g
* -P 5L
cj
cu *~ 4^ -£ x= &cx3
o xl
P
'- to O to X3
P CJ ^ —' CC
£-§
S-£
CU 3 3L" u
"ft* ^^ n^ ft Sr
P- r X3
e s«.1 Z 5f t
C^
r* —
r^cj,
» "ft
-
OJD
CJ
P
"O
c
cc « a "o
CD -ft cc 3
fc- S 41 »-
s3- X3
a #co
w cn
o ,4 4 f t
4-1 CC
C "3 Q P
Pc
cj
2
-^
2
-ft^'Sb
* "3
-3 -9^
3 *5 2 ^
^ cCL
u >,
- £ &0
c
^ ^ c o P 2 P q j . ^120
•E^t-i£jjs^ii:r rfi
ft
j I
£ ^ ^2 *ci
:> Jr E ^
cf t " er
y cc
-1 tftW
■5 ■£ T3
3
.E ^3
U-
£- «_Sf oj f t■=o
< ci= 3
cc
Xj " "O •«
Cu P P X3
>- CU oj ,
>3 T
TCOf^t »- 5 £
—< ^ -X^i^^ v;
| S
3 ^ J£ - - £ - c o *
X f3t f >-^< 4f t | qnl^i c » j- C
c n f t C C L . f t - f t ' X 3 l S
-P
cr
4
1
c
4 " r2 3
u
w;
to
O
'?
^ 4-5
J f^
D ft
O
(U O cc
to CU TJ
S S£ g Si
"re 5 £ 5
?^|e
Cu
d) ft
X3 4^
p
sO
s ^^^
c b c^ co
E
° -c j £„
«
'? P C i •S
w ^5
cu CO
cu ^ C U c j ^ t o " c j
-3 CL OC
cu -2 -o 4J w -2 M--755
OJC CJ 3 .- "X7 V ' - X C r - o P c c P c j
4-i CC
CJ p
c d C L ^ cd
- — X3 X3
c
It—1.
T f cc ~c —^
o S? re J-
C/5 CJ
-3 g X*-3 3
CC
to"
*% §.S Tr- S B-f J S §r-a I
3 ST oex n ej si
^ c > .-■5
~ j: 3 " h - - M «o
ci
cc T5
C L -«
j Xa
=
aCO
cc
41 V
c ^. j: O « 3 -£ •- > x. xE
r e M - c > u - a > ( A a > £ 7 : c c
•£. C •= 5 O C re^ > re C3_c
5P SC EL • ri ^3MJJ f, c ^ ft
^
.a" &-£
fi- S E
"3
3
m - € o O.
>- ft tf)
-S £ §-2
CJ fJH ^ "CL
CL^
to X O
0) CJ ^
2
= l!^2 f t - " |
--a
^>3 a
&C V5 ft-J
3 "^ ft
z
c o .
ii'liffJ:«-N||l*tf
-» E-
"~ c b.a g § * .a p -B & » s a
>
.r•*-**-■*-"<w
- — u rr: <u re «. .t g >-^
fr—- '5
u j,
c
-^
-£
R^yi
i
/
^^ «;•«
c
c
£
fl
- J~- t-"re
£^
'>
O ° 4- u
*3 4 3 o
- CJ .5" fe
<., re c
41 .is •- «^»
_ ^ £ " O ■£
4 .S^ V.
St"— T" r- c-
£ 2 Cr __.
> ^ 5^
K
•■ (- i
4 4 c —'
:ft5 £
-c *: u_ -C ^ C -i
ft ft c u .£ •= -^
tO
_
r/l
¥-5 S,
t d «*-. 2S E
m
c
.
J- R. R. Tolkien
Beowulf.
ancient England, enabled him to draw ,!,ff' .1
respects much closer to the nctu I hi"? Tl^ ""* '" SOme
Beowulf, especially as a voun'T uf u ' *" character of
***** to earn dol and Zo/amonTme ' ,° "^ ^ ^ «* of
d „ j r. l u " 5 a m o n g m e n a n d p o s t e r i t y
Beowulf is not an nr-r.iol „• < n. FubLeruy.
or
Sweden
abou^OO
^U^T
"T^
"
^^
on a general view a self cons f Certai" min°r defects)
d e a r l j t h e m a r k s " J ^ g Ta T t i E S t e T h ^ t T ^ ^
succeeded adrmrably in creatine 17h "§ 7 c t^ mUSt have
poraries the illusion of snrve§ """^ °f the Poet's contemI backward into a dark andqmW sorrow TMs ' ^ T^
is an effect and a justificationof t "mpression of depth
to old tales, mostly da e;'' of episodes and allusions
ground. y ' m°re PaSan' and Asperate than the fore-
choly) in the /W„e J-espec a S " s T"^ (and mdan"
and the S<m,n,, ™Itelll ' !,' '* Aene3S readles Italy
««tefa eaWe u*«m.b Alii fori he Io s ' 7] f^e worhte, xghwxs
*at Virgil knew, and Syus5in 1 main T* am' °'Cl P°CtS
criticism that the important 1 R °f " U™ ^ The
misses this point of X "nd 1 f", PUt °" the °Uter e^
W
w ce m
m aayy Dbee t tnhaannk kt uf u tl h at ht at th et hme o d„ , .Z, !^ ^„ lf ^ 1t o. c^ v "«
preserved by chance (if ,. h r I "^ " tem',er has bee"
The genera structu I o t ^ drag°n of de^ruction.
to percLe v e o k to , ^^ "° ""'"'' * "0t "^ dffi«*
t ' i1n d
e nt,hne 1 ny opt o
fm
S itsrsa, t T
d u, r1see ,g ,f er oCmt
m
i oini t :t h; a
t i/ !t „t, S
„ „ ,/ /T :d^i st m
o fa nc o
or intends to tdl e^uemSXT^ ?T\ *" * ^ a «*
so Klaehe, heads a critiXSi ^on < BuTth^^^ "
not meant to advance steadily or ,,, 7 1 he P°em was
ance, an opposition ofendsaLZZTV'-* ^"^ * bal"
is a contrasted de.^rftL'SSntfu£ * aT hf^ ^ J
between_you_th and.age, first achievement and .final death. It is
divided in consequence into two opposed portions, different in mat
ter, manner, and length: A from I to 2199 (including an exordium
of 52 lines); B from 2200 to 3182 (the end). There is no reason to
cavil at this proportion; in any case, for the purpose and the pro
duction of the required effect, it proves in practice to be right.
This simple and static structure, solid and strong, is in each part
much diversified, and capable of enduring this treatment. In the
conduct of the presentation of Beowulf's rise to fame on the one
hand, and of his kingship and death on the other, criticism can find
things to question, especially if it is captious, but also much to praise,
if it is attentive. But the only serious weakness, or apparent weak
ness, is the long recapitulation: the report of Beowulf to Hygelac.
This recapitulation is well done. Without serious discrepancy5 it
retells rapidly the events in Heorot, and retouches the account; and
it serves to illustrate, since he himself describes his own deeds, yet
more vividly the character of a young man, singled out by destiny,
as he steps suddenly forth in his full powers. Yet this is perhaps not
quite sufficient to justify the repetition. The explanation, if not com
plete justification, is probably to be sought in different directions.
For one thing, the old tale was not first told or invented by this
poet. So much is clear from investigation of the folk-tale analogues.
Even the legendary association of the Scylding court with a maraud
ing monster, and with the arrival from abroad of a champion and
deliverer was probably already old. The plot was not the poet's; and
though he has infused feeling and significance into its crude mate
rial, that plot was not a perfect vehicle of the theme or themes that
came to hidden life in the poet's mind as he worked upon it. Not an
unusual event in literature. For the contrast—youth and death—it
would probably have been better, if we had no journeying. If the
single nation of the Geatas had been the scene, we should have felt
the stage not narrower, but symbolically wider. More plainly should
we have perceived in one people and their hero all mankind and its
heroes. This at any rate I have always myself felt in reading Beowulf;
but I have also felt that this defect is rectified by the bringing of the
tale of Grendel to Geatland. As Beowulf stands in Hygelac's hall and
tells his story, he sets his leet firm again in the land of his own people,
and is no longer in danger of appearing a mere wrecca, an errant
settmg; an elaboration of the ancient and iml^noSng K£
2. "A rare nf S,(..„ i ■ ,
ling themselves bi
;£-«^ftTass£r-'
Jftft*tt3SL-i:.t;iSB-,
of composite authorship, n
a newly invented tale of an
and oft-told tales. The poir
he old way with
(liis edition is, of course, of
Monsters and the Critics
Virgil certainly d<
printed tales, th;
observed to hesit
or discrepancies at any point in the poem. They are no proof
even of incompetent authorship. It is very difficult, even in
ength. to avoid such defects; more so still in rehandling old
that are seized in the study, with a copy that can be indexed
if never read straight through as it was meant to be), are
;capc an author and still more easily his natural audience.
e such faults, even within the limits of a single book. Modern
imably had the advantage of proof-correction, can even be
roine's Christian name.
E ~ jb -S .-
ap.g a* a oj
4
T3
CN
to
tj
P
U
{J
ft
cc
X
H
cc
P
"3
ftP
O ^w
3
cc
3-
<
cj
P
--
«_ 53 > * r.
C
s-
CU
o
■5 o
'I £
3 r°
cd m ~P
- 3
«
O
"P
c
a-
.
c
^
f fi -
-a
CP
cj
-
sj -
SFjd u ■£ ^ « cd t« u
ft-
rx
—
P
^S c5j ^ -^
c
^ *> cu g >. >
^^
C U ^ _ 3w > -f t _Pf t j-«^ c u
w
E
CJ
cc cu ^ O
cu • a -r uP
•■3 t i ° f t
V CJ P -5
^
cj
--
w; CU to
4-. -P CU
5/5 > -P
""
S
^
"^
4- P -S fe *-
—C- P "Q
^ C. fPt V H« f t S" O°
P^
i -- P
p
1 -3
«c d Sc 3" "3f t P=| ♦«<^
ftcjzzjj
c-J
g2
g
t - g S
.c^>C
> <A
^cjca
"cu -g C- cj -3 .*g O
~2 -a cj-tc £ 2 '5
■g
^
^
E
wd
^
.s
3
W
kt
w;
rt
"3
• § . E J f t i r " £ J 3 2CO ^ ° 8
• 5 2 P - S S - c u c j c c ^ c Oj
M
CJ
«
c j gp^ J-J ! J< | ^« P -
gj
o
o «4- .£
1
3
v
ft
b
E
>
p
cu J2 '^ CO -3
CU <
CQ-2
cCPZ!
cc.P
cc
§,-2 iCC ig CC
Oft2
^
n
'
co
-
,
c
Si
?
t
S
4
-
.£
^
g
2
^
£
5
c
c
gP-^
4
-
^
-
£
2
c
p
c
c
:
2 S ^> % p0>P wc c>1
" ° ftP
cu cy^ _ft
ft
3
3P
/
5
c?
^
t£^^og.2?3CQ«i2§.E^
^_ft
CJ
—
"*
>~
>—
p > c ft- a
<L> CC
2 2 - £ p„o co Oft
CJ
^
3
WD
E gft rc O CJ co
■.
ft rS J2 4- -3 P P
3
cj
| l - ^ a . s i r, 2 l - f t . I
p £
^
p gj wd cu
•ft^ jftp^ ^4_,
c 7 -c
c uOi S.sf t "3
=
t - 4 - t Tr t o — " c ' - r t *
§ -3 .a rt wo E e-^a
^ ^ ^ < ^ f t r c ^ - s c C f t j fl J c u - - j
■£
.§
CJ
"3
ft- « ~*fr S cu
««
cu
^
>
cj
to C
) sJ •^$>*. £f t Cn Jj t _o ?^
CJ P ft-< O u ^ &
.a ti W "CO CJ |m
* 4 -i 0j
•
p
ccCo53^^^"3c.cc-°cj-c
U
S
cj
c c . £ - p j o C Q ^ p ^ - - p £ : . t j p . £
CJ c
*
fe
H1
«-C > «
"p
a,-§2 ^ g E
1L *{
a, u
c
to
** gj^ 8,^-2.3,3
' — > " "^ f t ZP>
CJ
o , 0 .2 '5
^gftPWDOcCCJtjgc^
"•s
. 2 3
J3
^ cc "ftj co cc cu
•5 jc
ft
CJ
c- cf tftP
~i 3f t C
2PccCCC'CJ>/rft-3i
,
^
,
!_,
- £ =f tp3O o C
C a CC-4PJ a > X
~- f t fC
P
^
fc
4^-3
3
t i f?t ^- '
f t 4 - fP
t
^f t P
P 3 - " « » * 5 ^ . = ; ^ P ^ u C J £ £3 J 2 ^ JCCJ C C W D
OftP-c j dw>
o
</> CJ
'*s>c ° •= 'EL 1
CJ
-3
O «o .S »ft e ° ^S oc j
o cu
n
a §
2
3 ^ ^ c f - p ^ g f
O ■£ c c o - p - 3
_ft-4-,Epwo~
"teO-Cccccs
cj
C8
CUD
«
«5
E •^a
^ 5 § -g 5 >
CC ft- CC
gs g «
^ C . £
as fea o P, gs s^
cu _ .22
co
o
I J= c3 .5 2 "cc
•s .pj "2 ° o S
C
U
CD u
O CO
Cm P
CJ S
p
u
s^ io?—- ' .a"g»8 |«g ^-2 -II
_!
8 gD^Pft. O
E 2 p" g cu
CJ J-
^
§^| at s gj * 5
nj
0 6 ^3^ p ro
WD
c i 2o p
«
-3
"P2 c c^ P f tP h s t o—> '
E^:^21ft
CJJD > cj -3
- '^ WD t
o
u. pp
cc
«
cd cu
-j
s -2 CO
CJ
§ - *
5 s « 3 a ©
o p ^
3
V
p .ft- ^ 3 - 3
"- o c
cc o cc cu cc g
n --- a c -E «)
^ft- CJ g
-3 ft- 4^
.!£ *
~ " ' o ~p - 3 o
E
b _r ea>
socc j j_g
cu
•=; g: WD £ 9^ .E
t o 35
P
^
s
;
j
_
»
^
^
a
'
t
:
^
c
fti
w
"0
- ' 5" 3 g
f t j p 4 . *2
p ccc c"5- S•- fPJ
t - c-p ccjj o - p p ^ , 6 - - <«
2j
2 > <r ft k.
4- TJ
cc c- 5 .£ jp g «*2 -52 33 W) rt c
CU ^ Pi to U ft- °
- rt3 cc
WD u
COJ
•CJ C
° CJ ft- —
cj -£ •-
I
t
*> "5 w o * w c
__
_J3 ft CO *j 4-1 nj
CJ u
co O
£
- CC .JJ- £ CC
w
WoD- " u _c .j
g
3
3
O
£
cd E
o
ojd
P
~
•£? 3 u «
«
6*0
cu
fch'S
2 «
^ o< "°• f ta f tftp
^J
3
cj
4-1
***
y S E a ^ ^ o ° p
cu
=_
s3
T5 ft9 ^'
2 fr g cj .
^ -P P CU
CQ,
C
cu a ^ a 12
■a i i
2 « *
cj -z; cj 3 -£
4-* CU
to
"3 3
C ,^-
" g o c u c c j P P f tP- ,h Qw Cf t Up
tO frN
^ O CU
cj c J3
fCt C
- c j " C U*
Cd ft3 ."S
3 -
~P
-^
cj
-C
c u f t i s P HH n 3
yu ft •
ft 4-»
C
Z
u
P
- cu cc
wd_o >
E .2
ft!
LL!
c:
of
•
O
3 **^ '5b f
£ ^ ■*
a 2 f l fgt 4
( f .l - 3C gr
S £ - g cc-5
ft-,
P 0)
cd t!
-3 .3
WD -,
U
i0
ft-
*o cc H «
~—' co
P
O
^j3 cd
>
"3
I3 cc -.2< * i - %
- C§
Q
ft
C
D
/
2
WD
3
•WD
j r. c--;•
d cftu WD
- P -ft.
P sr C J - f t c c a . t i ^ • ^
cu o< p •-< jj ft" "5-2 a O cu °- i
*L
?3
c
c
v
4c
c
- t > c C - 5 = ; c j
«c >j
"3
o
cc
-
cd
o
§ 5 c c > v
~° - -3 § -a •-= -3
Z
*" s
ft u
-j ■£
*| 7fI -^_h
|'5| i11111
»
•- I i "i i g J
a
F° ft -
j
cu cj » *>1 •= § ^ftP
i- Ji; 4- to 34-t O cuP3
«
O
<->
J J? - c E 5
cc
2>MC^«
cj
f t Jd
« °
cu -P
PC- cc 3 — j?ro
cu -= IT ftP PC CJ
= P -P „ cj ^ -3
=
4-J
CJ/-3
,t u c Sr e% o r e; = i ; 3 ^ u ^T3
ft^'c^'l
g33fflfti"
—'
E -3
O cc
O
4-i
P
*S
CJ
""
yj
" 's s s § e 1
WD ft CJ to
cc_*°C
o
« °
> tO ft- 4_,
?
«2
CC
^
^^E
g E « cc - 2
fr-v*
P
Cm
1^ / ^ -sr I
1
ft
IE
c
V ■£
=- «
3
O
a—/
3
£
SrT ^ X & 5 JP o
IftiJ.-iss fe
?
a - - 54 r s-x
= ; X ! fox
t " ^ f t ^^
K
-p "" 1 Z= ~^= ft^^ cd ed c-g-5
^C J ^ . ^p^P f^t f-=
t - < -2
> Tja
3
O -^ cj .=: w > P
^ S R. S)-P ^ ^
is g ^ cc p b _
»
^'
«ftt=
co
Tp ft- —-" CC to Tj
*->
tec
fc
~ v. c ? j f c 2 = ^
§* ^ fc s I ! S '"
S c > - £ . 3 «■
^ S > « ws aT S? .c
-—;
g—
dS
«^
c w
-£
3 a; li t .C ft-
■:* *_ rmi 1
•
cj
>n
cj
c
cj u-t> tr o h
O cd, J^ jo co
&H CP 4-^J=
« Oft a gi-a
&<? |-J £ "2
o
til
CQ
op
ft.
o
:cp
wd E cd u „
o WD Cdi "3
c nd 5
£ UJ CJ *
g 64- -P «'
* ° Si ft
ift
c
b-3
^
Oft-
Cm^
§-"2 cj B o
w o o
^>
y
4—
CO
ft
O
D
H
U
CJ
ftl
u
CJ
•r; cu "3 2 cj
6 0 -
C4-
O
C J
§ J- WD CJ >>
u
,-, °° <u wd pr o
i to J- O C7
ft ' 4—
4
H
Z
ftl
X
H
CO
CJ
'
CJ
U
ftP
!> , CO : O
en ! CU to
• • S i "■
co co
CO -ft
^
c o
4OiJg OjJS]
w jo ^-j
1 "co cu CTS "cL to .§ icj cj .SP--S
: ? -= • t«' cu co co
-
P
•-ft- .S-C-jp ^<-5-3
j£
Jm
>
g—:«»-- g 0 co
S
cC
d d t too ; q ; > ^ q ^ cj
ft
^
ft
0
4-
^
£
tO
.ft—
CU
.
>
CJ
c
C
r oO
-j.
-T p
3
3
C3
J
to
p
-
.WD ry>
cu Jzi
CU
r
to
CJ
S>l^X b S3 fe 1 i i
-3
"3 o x
cj CQ --C P
r ^ . S o ^ C f c w r f t C / J O C L O F
3 s t2 Ji c S S 3 ^> -SP . - j n 3
cu J2
c j 0 J D - 3 5 2 P w O U PP - ^ ^ * 3 J3 iWD
ft.—1
rnZP
Cua_»
—ZT*
5 u . f t " J : c j^ .Cs- gf t-* ^ pCOpCJc a,;p
cL—
C
m ^ .«- , .Si-a
j c O C«J -.3
S ^
C Jftp
- 5 -2 «
4- TO
O C . cS j a: S£ P c
P -co; r - c o o j z
"±3 tut!
'COtOft^np;^
u c - o s . u
;c co u u
« -S
5P
^ tc M
o
rjft^^ft
CJ
E K
If^s^'^-i^ftl
511 S^ll-1111^1
O cu
o^JS o« Cu- cB «
£t£Sftft..S<0-1ftlft.
N
q Lc
4-»
fti
-J
z
X
o
^ ^ £ c j ^ " g g P ^
?*='JE.£5ocjCft
cc
w
S
"
CJ
cu
fCO
t v,_-f t-o
P
-—3 1 41- -o.
cu
cu
J
cu C
p u
P c u c o C 4 - , _ ^ c U ^ P
cu u ^ P - S J U P P ^ * &
4-*
i-g
c S^^ 1 § 2
- coPicc^ 2--j: 7*
u r C C •
r C flo j) .. f—
t _i _
f tfttot o
<.«
C
n S
cun.
u ^.ti J uP cw «
3Jr:>o2^co^ftP
<S S S •« 2 S 1 -2 ^
ccj^2j2ft-^-E?
^c u .- ..3p j ' ^- ^-- °0 8 . 8 * «
3 —
-
W
-ft
4-
w
-
S.-3 "S "S « cz>-4- is a
3 -P t^ ^ g .£ E
S -"52 ' *-, o g E ^ cu
a «>..
_ -- T CJ
Cd CC CJ -5 ft
4-. -t J 4-> T3 m
z
ft
i -- P IS a ° e S
• ^ j S P p i - C O ^ - c o C f t
~ s I ~ ~ 1 g t. > .
O
OJD-^
Cw
o. O
f t Of t ^co
S 3
P zP. .pj
~
CJ
ftp
C cu u
cj jc cj
-ft" cj *J
S aC ->^;
-P
cu
^ CO -2'
JS -3 -P
"*- p t*-
Sh
CU
U
CO
o w-3
o £ ftp
E o"2 E c
3
ft.*
-4ft)
C
D
O
-2
0)
cu
O
to
^" i~ ^"■«- g..a
S E«"B
g 2
3 «^
CO
4-»
to
-C
J-
■- *
j-
Q
ft
cj
±3
cu js q; o ^ cj ^
.s s. ='
E wi!=1J
^S^2.lo
- — ft- -ft a
"I=S cu.
1/5—
ft3
CU
CO
ft
CO
- 3
co
*-
- 'cc -3
1s
CO CJ
CJ J-
o .<£/.£ -o
' s-i,
? c
|v B D
cu
cc-c
p
ftp
if "2 =>,
tP "C
cj
CJ
c
5 .2
CJ
u-
I Oft -
"•—
f c -cu
f t ^£ Z- . JJ^ ju cc
5
ft; - £ OS .> ^ P
b
^ .ft
o
ft --,
.2 £ ftP
O JJ SS c j f t
w
H H -a 5
-4^9,
«
1
C « ft- CU
'^ ^
-3
p
.£ u -c J3 -. DC >>
w l S ? f t J f fl p ^ - 0
0=^
C rC '
CC p- C cc
«J =" « E^ Z 5
8S
p
^^ft^ g
CVD
aO.
rt
Jp p
o JSco cj
«« ft) V—' ^
2 p t> o 0^0
«- P cc
-£
*J
—
^
qj
- 2to
^ tfJP
er t p^^3 g «
^ w
c- x o . a o
oc - -Si
c cc —
■gH
WD
*>cc
cj **-»
tcu
^ ___ 0*- >--, O
P -. T
co"
r
-ST*=
.E -
Z < < cd <
>-
S o
wd cj £
u f fl L ' S p b i o B
>
1-
§ ^ftp
S
-^ _- >^ cc JC
.4CCfeftCJP
in
•|ftiO
-ft
" ^ ^ p--^
-p
cP 5
cd £
-p p ^ > ~
j-Ccj^UQft-XSJS
CO^-UtO
"3 "3
- « I1 £ S- -g■ gi3g- 1fen^-"
«P cXj
_C
CO
E 2 Pftp-- cj:.2li
?
1c= c^ 43- . -^ pc u 5
" 2 t i Pc
*cu -3
C 3 n ttj g o
O ^
CJ
CJ
CJ
> sy
- - ( " X c j c a ^ c o c c P
QU
CD
CJ
JiJ
-3
^ftu.c
«oCC
^
ft" c £
y
X
£ ~3 P 3.ft tO.S _--3
re
cu
•" « ao-S~ $-S.«>
S .ti ft,. « ^ p — TOO
c:
oi
5
5/ s
3 .2
CO^
C J » - f t * > c j S P 4-1 ^^
>PH3CCj>PCJ
^
C C c ^ P i - C C c U ^ O O
_3
CO
CJ
4—
'^J
r*
:-£o
P
.-, cu cu r£
bt^^
v WD
to
P CO
cj 43
- PP ^ U- •
t^ CO WD O .
M- O -P P ,~
o
ft^li a-
CJ CJ
CO
S-'S ft^
"^ t>
=sz^^rs
m
i S« '8to8sP28SSsi§sJ?
cj
3^*t4^
cq
«
fe C 3 i/5
CJ x—v 4-1
*J
co
n*r ft
uO mo; ^--c:"5
I pZa
^
J- -3
"" c
«
^
g p « wd-2 f x 5 cj
■ft * ™ W 4J * I>ftP
cd g-o=tc^^3 cuU
>
■
S«1
< S CT v .- rx «*- ^C^ j, v x ""
..qq= cuf5'*~'—:© c»c _x ft
- a > " i i T ; t * - « « - o
"to .a
£
Pftp g '.E Jc S-2J2
CJ.P4- §:^ 4J CHPl;
.2 ."g p wd?s c*- ^ a »P;
cu _P
2 cu
•5 ~e SEp S ? .E g
13 co 4- co •^
Icu S "S. ~ 2
;a *fc
-s js
<uco2 >E
» §ft-:ftP Jp I .2 j2
5/5 -_ WD .5 CU CJ S E f ^ t i p
o .£
£1 .^ ° Et o co
t { CuJ
4- CUiftJ
"3
2 C
cj P
£ "^
p -C
§
E ~; co
•-P
o
2
t JCU ^tti ft c j c j _ - \ U ftP -O C <u
ftl
tu
CO
cd -- +* i.y
os
a;
% |-5
— ft= X qj ^^r
—— ft*1 CO en j£ •— u i
O «q~2X CJ^O—TCJn
cto-
.ft
_. CO "P:
35 cj cj « —
3 'ftp C J > "icu
JC .Tp fe cj
C J c j "3 -* co «© -3
p
CO, P
<
ftl
O
C
—■
> -1-
"5
-i^S^ _S -= -S >
P« .co C no CO
0 *C O fc CO
ni
v5 -JS
-3
W
< .00 o **> _: ft* •«• ri
B * 2 £ -5 ■
j3
U K!
<:«•£•§ c c^vo
>x
•
p;
WD£.2 ~pP cu
W
2-:
I .
^~ *»2IS§-£"§
"S w <4XO
cc
^
>4»
-°C-ft «JJ w
^-i o "ts jr 2 «/T
.^ -* •- g •—> cc *k
©
2- o^rS
o p». "P- - ^ cou t! £5 ^E|
2 B -~ w
a £ 5 Z .2 -3 . ' T x i c u - g
—
IIId
^
S -5 "3 £ .Sf >
§ £ S -a £ «
a' ° cj a -p -^
-g^ ^cr-ft S g
^i 'E §.£ « J3
.j ^c
—'
iC •=
> Cy
-c DC
cu "*I c"
£
-^3---
E"ft