This is a well-researched and thought-provoking book, which shines a light on some of the cultural origins of our instinctive human fears. Fear of wolves, of snakes and serpents, of dense forests and deep seas, fear of isolation, fear of chaos and disorder. It tells us much about monsters and Anglo Saxons, but also quite a bit about ourselves.
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This book has been written by a full-time Oxford academic with a Doctorate in Anglo-Saxon literature. He presents well researched evidence in a logical sequence, building up towards a reasoned argument. (none of the wild theories and jumping between topics of more amateurish authors). It is accessibly and engagingly written, even humorous, but primarily intended for an academic audience, for whom it will become I hope a standard reference work. A degree of familiarity with Anglo-Saxon English (or at least a passing interest) and the Beowulf poem is assumed, but he does give a summary in the Beowulf chapters for those who do not have that background.
For the non-scholar, it was interesting to see the Germanic / Saxon origins of many words still in common use in English, particularly those representing nuanced ideas. It made me recall that German and Greek are the two languages acknowledged as having the widest vocabulary for expressing ideas, no surprise these are the nations that have produced the greatest philosophers.
The author considers a selection of types of monster and monster habitats in sequence, based on Anglo-Saxon sources, building up a picture of what monsters represent. This culminates with an analysis of the ‘monsters’ in Beowulf and their sometimes blurred line between good and evil; as monsters can be somewhat human, but equally humans can be somewhat monstrous.
I liked the key notion of Germanic order : the monsters are each in their allotted place (e.g. ‘wolves are in the forest’), and those places are where man isn’t. Man is in the civilized places, the monsters are in the uncivilized places, in the wilderness, and the boundary is rarely crossed. When that boundary is crossed, in one direction or the other, trouble ensues.
The author uses language well. His scene setting paints Britain as a freezing, scary, uncivilized island on the very outer edge of the earth; which is pretty much how the Romans also saw us (and their European successors probably still see us), and therefore a natural home of monsters aplenty.
Monster traditions could be a useful deterrent to cultural taboos, such as grave robbing and greed, with the image of the dragon atop his hoard of treasure, jealously guarding both it and the entrance to the underworld. Here you can see the influence of Anglo-Saxon literature on JRR Tolkien and his world of Middle Earth.
Living in East Anglia I could identify with the author’s presentation of the Fens and marshes as prime examples of that wilderness – remote, evil, unhealthy places, home to giants and devils, only broken by little rings of civilization radiating out from a few saints or hermits. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle tapped effectively into that sentiment with the Hound of the Baskervilles.
Christianity ran through everything for the Anglo-Saxons. Monsters were not just evil but actively anti-Christian. Monsters represented chaos whereas Christianity represented the Germanic ideal of order. Cain was evil, so was therefore deemed the ancestor of monsters. The Anglo Saxons were Christians (therefore good) but very aware their hold on civilization was tenuous. They had in oral memory been heathens (evil) and could easily fall back into that state if they were not vigilant.
I was interested in the concept of the outlaw. Outlaws were exiles, not a romantic choice, less ‘Robin Hood and his Merry Men’ dancing in sunlit woodlands, rather the ultimate punishment for the worst crimes against society. Exile meant to be no longer considered human, to have crossed that line of decency, to become a monster through ill deeds. To be cast out from the safety and warmth of the community meant almost certain death amongst the wolves and the giants, even if in reality death came from more prosaic perils such as cold, sickness and starvation.
I found that idea more intriguing than the chapter on the map monsters, many based on real exotic animals encountered by early travellers to the Far East (another remote edge of the world). However some of the descriptions passed down are surprisingly accurate, considering the early authors must have been sorely tempted to exaggerate and elaborate travellers’ accounts with each retelling. The chapter on wolves is also a little over-long, but that perhaps represents the large part wolves play in our culture and legends, quite disproportionate to either their numbers or misdeeds.
The author draws all these concepts together into a concise conclusion about the nature of monsters and men, which applies as much to us as to the Anglo Saxons a thousand years ago.
Returning for a moment to the German philosophers, the author offers a warning from Friedrich Nietzsche : “Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you”.
- Carol Carlile
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