Book #220 of 2020:
Beowulf: A New Translation by Maria Dahvana Headley
Any new rendition of Beowulf is an achievement, but this modernized and feminist approach to the Old English epic is particularly exciting. Author Maria Dahvana Headley has retained the poetic structures of the original, with its internal rhymes, alliterations, and kennings, but she boldly challenges the preconceptions that most prior translators — almost exclusively men — have brought to the task. As she notes in her introduction, for instance, the figure of Grendel’s mother is typically rendered as a monster like her son, but her only physical descriptions in the surviving tenth-century manuscript are similar to those of Beowulf himself, such that although the Geat is traditionally framed as a champion and she an ogress, the proper term for each is probably something like “formidable.” In Headley’s version, this antagonist is restored to the stature of warrior queen: consumed by rage and set on revenge, but recognizably the swordsman’s equal in humanity.
That mentality of reinterpretation extends throughout the text, bringing a freshness echoed in the writer’s language. Headley uses the full breadth of Modern English to brilliant effect, nestling more archaic expressions alongside the latest slang. Thus she describes one scene as “a banquet unmatched in munificence,” yet elsewhere has her hero spit a verse in Lin-Manuel Miranda style:
“Every elder knew I was the man for you, and blessed
my quest, King Hrothgar, because where I’m from?
I’m the strongest and the boldest, and the bravest and the best.
Yes: I mean—I may have bathed in the blood of beasts,
netted five foul ogres at once, smashed my way into a troll den
and come out swinging, gone skinny-dipping in a sleeping sea
and made sashimi of some sea monsters.”
Or consider the very first word of this saga, the ancient interjection “hwæt,” a call to attention often glossed as “hark,” “listen up,” “behold,” or “so.” In Headley’s hands, it’s more colloquial yet, opening the tale with a plaintive, “Bro! Tell me we still know how to talk about kings!” Such lines encapsulate the poet’s take — faithful and subversive at once, hilarious and heartfelt as ever, carrying the story forward for a contemporary audience without losing sight of its essential nature. If you’ve read other translations of the poem before, it’s a delight to see the contrast here. If you haven’t, this is a great place to start.
★★★★★
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