By the Gods!
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Beowulf Vs. the Dragon
Beowulf’s next big fight takes place fifty years after he’s uprooted the Grendel family tree, and our favourite Anglo-Saxon-Written-Swede has returned home and become king of the Geats in his own land. Everything is going great for him until a slave steals a shiny goblet from the lair of a local unnamed dragon. For those of you who don’t have much experience with dragons, here’s a general tip to avoid incurring their fiery wrath: Don’t steal their sh*t.
The dragon (predictably) flips out after finding his treasure hoard invaded, and sets fire to the countryside. A significantly older Beowulf gathers his men to once more slay a monster for the good of his people, and as usual he asks his soldiers to stay back so that he might further increase his fame and renown (a lifetime of slaying “un-killable” monsters does that to one’s ego).
This time, however, Beowulf finds himself outmatched by the dragon and desperately defends himself with a rapidly-melting shield, thanks to the dragon’s fire. Seeing their lord in dire need, most of his soldiers heroically retreat to the woods, but one man, Wiglaf, remembers his oaths and rushes to his king’s aid.
Beowulf has recurring trouble with swords; he is described as simply too strong to use them properly, and his super manly grip breaks the blade uselessly on the dragon’s scaly hide. Luckily, Wiglaf doesn’t have this problem and is able to stab into the beast’s belly, thus bleeding out the fire that had been roasting his lord. This allowed Beowulf get good and close to the dread lizard and stab it in the face (for some reason, his dagger isn’t susceptible to his sword-breaking problem).
The two are victorious, but not without cost: Beowulf’s armour could not withstand the power of the dragon and he lay mortally wounded in Wiglaf’s arms. Beowulf reassures his distressed thane, tells him to have courage in the coming days, and then dies like a champ. He is buried with all the treasures of the dragon’s hoard, and is laid to rest at what scholars suspect is now the barrow of Skalunda. Beowulf is remembered as “most gracious and fair-minded, kindest to his people and keenest to win fame.” Rest in Peace, you magnificent bastard.
Beowulf vs. Grendel’s Mother
The celebration of Beowulf’s victory against Grendel was like an Anglo-Saxon rock star: it partied incredibly hard and died young.
The very next night, after Hrothgar’s people and Beowulf’s thanes went to sleep in Herot, Grendel’s mother crept in and slaughtered a good portion of the partygoers. After all the rewards that had been heaped on Beowulf for slaying Grendel, he felt obligated to help Hrothgar again, and in the morning everyone who could hold a sword set out to track Grendel’s mother to her lair.
Beowulf and the Geats and Hrothgar and his Danes followed her tracks to the water, frothing red with blood, and filled to the brim with monsters. Hrothgar himself shot and killed one aquatic-beast with an arrow, but no one was especially eager to follow Grendel’s mother into her wet home. Luckily, “bloody and full of monsters” is exactly how Beowulf gets his bath-time on. In he jumped, thrashing about with an ancestral sword lent him by one of Hrothgar’s men. His armour protected him from the claws and tusks of the sea-beasts, but once Grendel’s mother grappled him and dragged him into her own monstrous hall the game changed entirely; the gifted sword broke against her magic hide, and she hit him hard enough to send the hero sprawling.
From his new vantage point on the ground, Beowulf spotted a magic sword among the hoarded treasure splayed around the hall. Lose one enchanted blade, find another; the universe never closes a door without opening a window, I guess. It was an ancient sword of the Eotens (giants) that Beowulf managed to lift with his vast strength, and in one mighty swing he finished the fight by decapitating his foe. His blade melted like ice under her corrupted blood, so Beowulf returned victorious with her head as his only trophy. In fact, it was a two-for-one head sale that day: the corpse of Grendel had been displayed by the late Grendel’s Mom in her cavernous abode as an attempt to brighten up the place, and it was just begging to have its head removed.
So finally, up comes Beowulf after nine hours to at last celebrate his victory and the safety of the Danes. There aren’t words in the English language to accurately describe how much mead was consumed that night, but most scholars estimate is was close to “a buttload.”
Beowulf vs. Grendel
Before we start in on one of written history’s oldest badasses, it’s important to note issues with the source material. There isn’t one complete manuscript of Beowulf’s story, and the ones we have face many translation issues. On top of that, the people capable of transposing the oral story told by the scops (bards) were men of the cloth, resulting in many Christian overtones attached that alter the themes and characters of the story as well.
Enough with the disclaimer, let’s get to what the audience wants: barehanded monster wrestling.
The story begins with Beowulf and a boat full of his buddies coming to Denmark to aid King Hrothgar who, to put it mildly, has hospitality issues. Hrothgar had built a mighty mead hall called Herot described as “splendid and decorated with gold” and “foremost of halls under heaven”, and the parties there were awesome. The downside was that the merrymaking held therein enraged a local monster Grendel, who had a nasty habit of eating the guests after they inevitably passed out. And they would always pass out; if you don’t drink enough mead at Herot to black out, you’re being an Anglo-Saxon wrong.
But this horrible man-eating monster didn’t scare Beowulf. He and his thanes agreed to stand watch in the night over Herot and slay Grendel. Beowulf also declares that since Grendel is a monster that has horrible claws and supernatural strength, there’s no way he knows how to use a sword. Therefore the only sporting thing to do is fight Grendel with nothing but his fists. Anglo-Saxons are not remembered as great logicians.
So Grendel shows up, kicks in the door and eats the first Geat he sees. Beowulf lets it happen, and pretends to be asleep—cunning strategy. Still hungry, Grendel reaches out to snack on another tasty human, except this time he grabs for Beowulf, who responds by putting him in the mother of all arm-bars. There is a great struggle, but Beowulf’s heroic strength holds, and tears Grendel’s arm and shoulder clear off. Fatally wounded, he retreats back to his lair leaving Beowulf with a grotesque trophy and another excuse to party.
But even with the monster slain, something is rotten in the state of Denmark. More on that next time in “Grudge match: Beowulf vs. Grendel’s mom”.
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