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Wednesday
In my 2008 book How Beowulf Can Save America: An Epic Hero’s Guide to Defeating the Politics of Rage, I used the poem’s monsters to understand the intense anger that was driving–and that continues to drive–American politics. Beowulf, I believe, provides powerful insights into grief, with both Grendel’s Mother and the Dragon serving as figures for destructive grieving.
We can grieve as much for the death of a cherished ideal as for a person. I believe that rightwingers grieving over an America they thought they were losing—a White, Christian America—fueled Tea Party rage against Barack Obama while leading to the ascendency of birther Donald Trump. Meanwhile, many on the left also thought they were losing their country when it reelected a rapist felon who had attempted a coup. The challenge is to keep such grieving from damaging both others and ourselves.
Grendel’s Mother and the Dragon represent two different kinds of destructive grieving. Grendel’s Mother is its active form. When the troll’s son is killed, she lashes out indiscriminately, assuaging her own hurt by hurting others.
By killing Hrothgar’s best friend Aeschere, she chooses her target well, causing the king to sink into despair. Hrothgar is in danger of becoming a dragon king, moaning, “Rest, what is rest, sorrow has returned.”
Although Hrothgar (with the help of Beowulf) snaps out of it, we encounter numerous kings in the poem who do not. Throughout the poem, there are instances of kings and warriors in the grip of dragon depression, withdrawing into mental caves and abandoning all worldly responsibilities.
One king mentioned in the poem, Hrethel, retreats to his bed and never gets up again after losing his eldest son. There is the “last veteran,” who retreats into a funeral barrow, which becomes a dragon’s lair. Beowulf himself (as I interpret the final battle) is in danger of becoming a dragon king: late in his life, after a long and successful reign, he looks back and sees nothing but one meaningless death after another. In a struggle with his internal dragon, the question becomes whether he will lose to the monster or emerge a king.
In 2008, many on the right became increasingly open to the idea of violence. America saw an explosion of gun sales, along with an unprecedented rise in hate crimes and politically motivated mass shootings. And of course there was January 6.
As I look at Democratic responses to Kamala Harris’s defeat, I see some who are drawn to a Grendel’s Mother response and want to transfer their own hurt to one of their own whom they consider responsible: Harris herself, Joe Biden, Democratic officials, wokism, neoliberalism, etc. As many have noted, such critics often have their pre-set narratives, blaming those who didn’t take their advice in the election.
Note, however, that there’s far less talk of actual violence—and less condoning of actual violence—from angry Democrats, in part because the party comes down harder on hate speech within its ranks than does the GOP. Democrats don’t flirt with the left equivalents of White supremacists, the Proud Boys, the KKK, and modern-day Nazis, nor do they post family Christmas photos of everyone wielding an AK-47. For the most part, Kamala Harris supporters are more likely to suffer from dragon depression than fantasies of troll violence.
In my book I note what it takes for Beowulf to kill the dragon. Notably he can’t do it alone but requires the help of his nephew to defeat the beast. Suffering alone is itself a dragon trait: we think that we can protect ourselves from hurt by pulling into our caves and developing thick, scaly defenses. In reality, these are just cover for raging inner fire and a poison that runs in our veins.
So while our impulse may be to retreat into our disappointment, a healthier response is to find a community and engage in positive action. When we do, as nephew Wiglaf discovers, a cave of wonders opens up.
[Wiglaf] saw beyond the seat
a treasure-trove of astonishing richness,
wall-hangings that were a wonder to behold,
glittering gold spread across the ground,
the old dawn-scorching serpent’s den
packed with goblets and vessels from the past…
And he saw too a standard, entirely of gold,
hanging high over the hoard,
a masterpiece of filigree; it glowed with light
so he could make out the ground at his feet
and inspect the valuables.
Although Kamala Harris’s campaign came up short, it revealed that millions of Americans—close to half of those who voted–are hungry to celebrate freedom and joy. Reliving those moments and building on them is better than snarling bitterly in a dark and lonely place.
