Gareth Wilson

Art and the Sacred

David Bernstein

May 13, 2004

Anglo-Saxon Pattern and Design in Art, Artifacts and Beowulf

The pre-Christian and Christian eras of Anglo-Saxon art are quite distinct periods, marked by different means of artistic expression. And yet these periods both share important aesthetic and cultural values. In the early pagan days of heroism and plunder, as described in the epic poem Beowulf, objects such as swords and jewelry were highly valued, serving as the primary means of artistic expression. The pagans loved to bury their dead with prized relics and treasure that they had collected; much of the artifacts we have today from this period come from the magnificent ship burial found at Sutton Hoo. Of these objects, particularly magnificent are the shoulder clasps, which almost look like Persian rugs made of stone and medal, and the ceramic hanging bowls, which shows a wide range of influences, from Celtic to Asian. The ideals of the pagans, and their fascination with pattern, particularly swirling ribbons and animal-head motifs, continued well into the Christian age, despite a shift in the form of expression. In the Christian age, illuminated manuscripts, such as the Book of Durrow and the Lindisfarne Gospels, took the forefront, continuing long standing traditions and, in turn, starting brand new traditions. Likewise, just as extravagant patterns played an important role in Christian and pre-Christian Anglo-Saxon artwork, pattern is an integral part of Beowulf, both because of its abstract, non-linear structure, and because it is a patchwork of values and ideals.

Our knowledge of pre-Christian Anglo-Saxon art is by no means complete. David Wilson stresses how our understanding of the times is shaped by the relatively small amount of artifacts that have survived: “The ravage of pirates, the rapaciousness of kings, the destructive zeal of architects, fire, the piety of clerics, ransom payments and many other causes have reduced the enormous wealth of English art in this period to a very low level.” [1] But we should not be discouraged from using the information we have to the best of our ability, for there’s quite a bit we can learn. Though a lot is missing, we do have a range of remarkable artifacts, which help us to better understand these often mysterious people. Before the mid-twentieth century, historians had to make due with scattered relics, often in poor condition. But, in 1938, architects discovered the burial site at Sutton Hoo, which contained, among other things, a giant ship, jewelry, helmets, swords, coins and hanging bowls. This was a milestone in the study of Anglo-Saxon culture.

Another important source of information on the period is the epic poem Beowulf, which looks at the pre-Christian era from a later, presumably Christian viewpoint. We don’t know who wrote Beowulf, and we don’t even have a clear sense of when it was written (historians and critics alike have wildly varying guesses—it might be as early as 700 or as late as 1000 A.D.). Regardless of the exact date, we know that the poem was written in England after the spread of Christianity, though we’d hardly know this just from reading the poem. The poet makes it clear he is looking back on the past, but there is little Christian commentary. There are several Biblical references (for example, we’re told Grendel is a descendent of Caine), but not once is Christ’s name uttered, and no reference is made to the New Testament. As John R. Clark Hall commented on the supposedly Christian references in the poem, “A pious Jew would have no difficulty in assenting to them all.”[2] Of course, the Beowulf poet was not Jewish, and such a comment is only half-serious, but it serves to underscore the fact that this is not necessarily an explicitly Christian poem. Language referring to sin and wickedness may suggest Christ’s suffering to some, but, on the whole, Christianity is a minor theme in the poem, if it is, indeed, a theme at all. Beowulf is much more notable for its examination of the past.

Even J.R.R. Tolkien, who stressed Beowulf’s merits as a literary text above all, also acknowledged its importance as an historical document. Tolkien makes a major point in his pivotal essay, “The Monsters and the Critics,” that the historical merits of Beowulf, great as they may be, should not overshadow the merits of the poem itself. He says, “Beowulfiana is, while rich in many departments, specially poor in one. It is poor in criticism, criticism that is directed to the understanding of a poem as poem.”[3] Tolkien’s feelings were perhaps highly relevant at the time but, more recently, I believe the exact opposite is the case. Beowulf has taken on such a massive cult following in literary circles that its historical significance has now taken the backseat position.

Beowulf is certainly not a straightforward historical account, as some might wish to think, but, as Roberta Frank points out, the poet clearly took great pains to ensure historical accuracy. The poet’s “reconstruction of a Northern heroic age is chronologically sophisticated, rich in local color and fitting speeches.”[4] History as a whole was not given much thought by the Anglo-Saxons, and there are few true historical accounts from the time, so any meager scrap we can find is quite helpful. Beowulf is not just a meager scrap, it is a full serving of information, besides being a creative and imaginative poem. We should not always take the Beowulf poet on his word as an historian, but we can use his descriptions in combination with other sources to get a quite vivid picture of a period. The poet does not paint a literal portrait of life in the fourth century. But though the world of Beowulf is a world of dragons and monsters, it is an accurate description in many ways; in fact, his use of monsters might be taken as a metaphor for the very real threat of war.

The poem makes reference to its pseudo-historical nature from the beginning. Even its tone harkens back to the attitude of the period. “Hear me!” the poet triumphantly proclaims in the first line, “We’ve heard of Danish heroes/Ancient kings and the glory they cut/For themselves, swinging mighty swords!”[5] Immediately, this description conjures a proud picture of the Germanic past. The poet takes the tone of a somewhat belligerent historian, determined to set the record straight. He acknowledges readers may have preconceived ideas of these times, and he wants them to know the period was every bit as grand as they might imagine. He writes a fanciful tale about monsters and dragons, and yet the focus is on men and their noble traditions, particularly Beowulf, “that mighty protector of men.”[6] Taken together with our knowledge of the times from art and artifacts, we can learn quite a bit about this ‘noble’ era.

Applying our knowledge of Sutton Hoo to Beowulf (and vise-versa) can be very beneficial. Beowulf and the burial site at Sutton Hoo provide insight into a fascinating culture which loved treasure and tradition. From these two indispensable sources, we can learn about the fascinating burial practices of the time, and about the values of Anglo-Saxon society as a whole. But, though these two sources compliment each other quite well, the connection should not be overemphasized. Roberta Frank gives an analogy that illustrates the nature of the relationship between Beowulf and Sutton Hoo. She tells of a man who offers to help a stranger looking for a lost object under a streetlight: ‘Are you sure this is the spot?’ he asked. ‘No’ came the answer, ‘but this is where the light is.”[7] This story is a perfect analogy because it emphasizes the element of chance that is responsible for the information we have today. Beowulf and Sutton Hoo are bright lights, but quite a bit remains in the dark.

Sutton Hoo is a literal treasure trove, as well as a treasure trove of priceless information. It gives us a very similar insight into Anglo-Saxon life as Beowulf. Martin Carver goes so far as to describe the Sutton Hoo burial in the language of a poem: “Burials are poems written with material culture; so that the choice of burial rite and the choice of what is put into the grave are choices referring to what was known or feared or loved by the mourners.”[8] As Carver goes on to explain, much like Beowulf, Sutton Hoo is not a literal representation of life, though it’s an invaluable indication of what these people found important. Of course, the information that is missing can sometimes almost overshadow what we do have. The body, which historians believe was a king or a wealthy landowner, was not found, probably because the acid in the soil completely decomposed the remains.[9] There is some debate as to whose body once lay in this magnificent shrine; it may have been Raedwald, king of east Anglia, or maybe Sigeberht or Eorpwald. But, as Wilson points out, “the matter is, from the art-historical point of view, of minimal importance.”[10]

Regardless of who was buried at the site, there is certainly a striking similarity between the reality discovered at Sutton Hoo and the description in Beowulf. The burial in Beowulf is described in this way: “Next to the noble corpse/They heaped up treasures, jeweled helmets/Hooked swords and coats of mail, armor/Carried from the ends of the earth.”[11] Later, we get a quite similar description of Beowulf’s funeral: “Then silver/and gold and precious jewels were put/on a wagon, with Beowulf’s body, and brought/Down the jutting sand, where the pyre waited.”[12] I can only imagine the thrill it must have given the archeologists who first discovered Sutton Hoo to see this majestic description come alive.

            As I have mentioned, the precise date is not know, but Beowulf was probably written around 800 A.D., though it is set around 600 A.D, roughly the time of Sutton Hoo.[13] The poem fondly examines a period that was recent enough to still be part of the national consciousness. This was a time of gallantry and bravery, when warriors were admired about above all else. Since war was so important to these people, it’s not surprising that they chose to bury their dead with all the accoutrements of battle: helmets, swords, and sometimes even their trusty horses (often killed to be buried along with their owners). In the artifacts, as in Beowulf, we clearly see a fascination with war. The helmets found at Sutton Hoo, with their large eye sockets and jagged sides, have a threatening appearance, suggesting a society that wanted to appear menacing in battle. On a deeper level, the art shows a fascination with abstract design (while representations of people—common, but not perfected, in the early Christian period—is much more rare). Pattern is probably the most noticeable theme in Anglo-Saxon art. Prominent in jewelry and other artifacts, as well as the later Christian paintings, patterns are a constant presence.

Many references are made to such magnificent, intricately constructed objects in Beowulf. Much is made of Beowulf’s helmet, his woven mail shirt, as well as the “mighty old sword” that he uses to kill Grendel. The description of the sword sounds remarkably like many objects found at Sutton Hoo. The poet describes it as having “runic letters clearly carved in that shining hilt/spelling its original owner’s name/he for whom it was made, with its twisted/ handle and snakelike carvings.”[14] This description quite accurately matches several swords found at Sutton Hoo, which have similarly elaborate engravings. The description of “snakelike carvings” particularly stands out, since this is such a common motif in Anglo-Saxon artwork, in both the pagan era and well into the Christian era.

The shoulder clasps found at Sutton Hoo are a truly remarkable example of pattern-work[15]. These clasps seem to foreshadow the carpet pages of the illuminated manuscripts in that both resemble Persian rugs, showing an apparent Middle Eastern inspiration. The technique used on these claps may have been a direct influence on the design of the later carpet pages.[16] But, whereas the carpet pages are painted, the jewelry manufacturer used gold, glass and precious stones to craft his work, which makes the finished product all the more remarkable. David Wilson calls these shoulder claps “the most perfectly composed objects in the find” of Sutton Hoo”.[17] Indeed, the detail of the work is truly remarkable. Two nearly identical clasps, one for each shoulder, are joined by a hinge, which can be separated by removing a gold pin. Even the pin is highly elaborate—chained to the side of the clasp, it is decorated with an animal head. The clasps have a red background, with gold contours outlining shapes and holding the glass and stone in place. Blue and white is used sparingly to compliment and contrast with the red. Each clasp is rectangular in shape, with a half oval attached to the side.

In these panels, outlined with ribbon-like contours, are two boars. The unnatural way in which the animals crisscross is a clever skewing of perspective, and the image is almost like an inkblot in its abstractness: it’s hard to identify at first, but is clear when pointed out. The hips of the animal are filled with a checkered pattern of blue and white glass, while the rest of the body is filled with garnets. The main field of the clasp most resembles a carpet. In the center is a mosaic pattern of five rows, containing three cells, with step-like edges. Every other cell is decorated with blue and white glass. Along the sides is a frame containing inter-weaving ribbons. Embellished with heads with blue eyes, the ribbons appear serpent-like and suggest Germanic and Scandinavian influences.[18]

            As we can see from this one object, the diversity of sources that influenced Anglo-Saxon art is truly remarkable. Just as Beowulf is a pastiche of different cultures, the varied influences of early Anglo-Saxon artifacts are like a rich tapestry. Objects found at Sutton Hoo include relics from all over the Europe: vessels from the Mediterranean, a shield from Sweden, and coins from Merovingian Gaul.[19] The Anglo-Saxons were active traders with many cultures. They clearly valued foreign artifacts, and incorporated multi-cultural styles in their own work.

The Asian influence, while apparently just as prevalent as the European, is a somewhat hotly debated subject.[20] Many historians claim oriental influence was not prominent in Anglo-Saxon work until after Sutton-Hoo. But, from merely looking at the relics, it seems clear that an Asian and Eastern-European influence was an essential part of the Anglo-Saxon tradition from the beginning. Geselowitz elegantly points out that, “Germanic art did not arise, as was once believed, out of the cultural ashes of post-Classical Europe. Because of the intensity of Asian and European contact throughout time, it is fruitless to discuss the origins of Anglo-Saxon or any European culture without consideration of the time depth of the cultures in both areas.”[21] We can see many Asian motifs in objects at Sutton Hoo, including the use of spirals, animal symbolism, peltas (which resemble the shape of a shield), and triskeles (which show three arms coming from a center).[22] Some might believe that Anglo-Saxons, as relatively simple people, had little or no cultural consciousness and, essentially, ‘started from scratch.’ But, while some of the old world sophistication was lost by this time, many new, equally important influences were gained.

In the hanging bowls found at Sutton Hoo, we see a range of influences. There is some debate as to the origin of these bowls, although many believe they are of Irish derivation.[23] At the time of the burial, they were probably already old, treasured objects. The bowls, made with enamel and millefiori, rather than the cloisonné more popular in Germanic art, are more typically Celtic than Anglo-Saxon.[24] However, the Germanic influence is also apparent, as is the Eastern inspiration, shown by the style of pattern and the use of an animal motif. One of the three bowels has a red enamel surface, with the etched edges serving as a sort of border. In the center of the bowl is a dark millefiori pattern, flanked by foil swastika patterns containing animal heads. The other two bowls are similar, with escutcheons, spirals, and peltas as decoration.

A pectoral cross found in the coffin of St. Cuthbert is made in the style of artifacts found at Sutton Hoo and links pre-Christian craftsmanship to the Christian era. But it is a rare find, as the spread of Christianity ended the practice of treasure burials. The new attitude towards such objects is reflected in Beowulf. The poet, through his characters, critiques the fondness of possessions, one of the more subtle indications of the poet’s Christianity. Hrothgar nobly proclaims there is “no honor, no glory in giving golden rings” and he criticizes those who cling “to the rotting wealth/of this world,” praising instead the “open handed giver of old treasures, who takes no delight in mere gold.”[25] The Christians were somewhat critical of the pagan’s materialistic values.

In addition to this shift in cultural values, there was a major shift in the form of much of the artwork in the Christian era. Instead of craftwork and jewelry, it was the codex that became the means of continuing earlier artistic traditions. The highly decorated gospel books updated thes earlier traditions, ushering in a new age. But, despite the shifts in value and form, many artistic sensibilities remained surprisingly constant. The introduction of the Christian religion does not mark a complete halt to the pagan mentality. In many respects, the Christians embraced and honored England’s pagan past. While rejecting the pagan Gods and some of the materialism, the Christians embraced the earlier people’s artistic style, and, as we have seen, even romanticized some (but not all) of their values in Beowulf. As Carl Nordenfalk explains, “Far from lacking cultural resources of their own, the [pagan] natives possessed a highly accomplished prehistoric art, which was chiefly decorated, and unlike their pagan idols, it was of no evident danger to the new faith.”[26] The Christians weren’t threatened by the notion of using influences from England’s not too distant past and retained many of the pagan’s aesthetic and cultural ideals. Patterns, earlier used mostly in jewelry and other artifacts, became highly important in the manuscripts, which often contain carpet pages, intricate lettering and illustrations. Like the artifacts at Sutton Hoo, a recurring motif is the use of elaborately patterned borders and intertwining, serpent-like lines. The form had changed, but the artistic sensibilities, for the most part, had not.

The new tradition had origins in Ireland, which was converted to Christianity by St. Patrick, and in England, primarily converted by St. Augustine. When St. Augustine came to see the pagan king Aethelberht, he brought with him an image of Christ, thereby helping to introduce the idea of representing figures, and suggesting a connection between figure painting and the new religion.[27] In the early days of Christianity, images of religious figures were prohibited, especially within sacred texts. The Bible tells of God prohibiting heavenly images on earth and, in early times, this prohibition was taken quite seriously. However, by the time of St. Augustine, religious imagery was becoming more acceptable, especially since flashy, attractive paintings were an effective means of enticing potential converts. In the words of Gregory the Great, “For what writing is to the reader, painting is to the uneducated.”[28] Early on, Anglo-Saxon Christian painting was mostly limited to the walls of churches, as in the lost panel-paintings of the Madonna across the central vault of Monkwearmouth. However, the manuscript came to be the most important means of artistic expression, which is fitting, since manuscript were the means by which Christianity first spread as a religion.[29]

As Christianity entered England and Ireland, there was a great demand for religious texts, which were mostly acquired from other Christian countries. Eventually, some of these texts were copied by Irish and Anglo-Saxon scribes, who added their own unique style. The script used in these early documents shows the influence of books such as the St. Augustine Gospels and the Burchard Gospels, which were made in the Latin and Greek tradition. But Celtic influence is also apparent in these early texts, in which we can already see “the elaboration of initial letters which was to become such an important element in Anglo-Saxon manuscript art, together with the trick of diminution, by which a large initial letter is followed by letters of gradually reducing size.”[30] However, besides a few flourishes in the text, these early manuscripts were relatively unadorned.

The Book of Durrow is the earliest fully illuminated manuscript that has survived, though questions abound as to whether the book is of Irish or English origin. Durrow was an Irish monastery, though it’s unclear if this is where the document actually originated.[31] But, at any rate, the Book of Durrow is highly important, as it has all the elements that typify the illuminated manuscript form, including carpet pages and embellished text throughout. But, if The Book of Durrow marked a major turning point in the complexity of the manuscript tradition, the jewel-encrusted, highly adorned Lindisfarne Gospels was a revolution. As Wilson aptly puts it, “its ornament is a monument to the ability of the English artist, rather as the Rolls-Royce is a monument of British industry.”[32] Given the almost abundant decoration, the book might be more comparable to a gaudy sports car than a sleek Rolls-Royce but, at any rate, the Lindisfarne Gospels show Christian Anglo-Saxon art at the peak of its complexity and grandeur. Other important illuminated manuscripts, such as the book of Jarrow and, in the next century, the Book of Kells, carried on the tradition.

These illuminated manuscripts are appropriately named because, as Nordenfalk puts it, they “illuminate the dark ages.”[33] Nordenfalk’s description is so appropriate because these manuscripts shed light on a period often thought of as primitive and dull. Because of such assumptions, many may want to characterize the Anglo-Saxon’s as simple and primitive. Certain aspects of Anglo-Saxon art are, in fact, simple. For example, the figures in Anglo-Saxon paintings are often child-like in the simplicity of their construction, with bold, basic contours, and skewed perspective. Yet, in other respects, Anglo-Saxon painting is fantastically complex. Looking at a page from the Lindisfarne gospels, or other similar illuminated manuscripts, the word simple does not come to mind.

            The image of a lion from The Book of Durrow representing St. John[34] is an example of a deceptively simple image, unlike the highly complex artwork found in Lindisfarne. Though John’s symbol is usually an eagle, this artist uses an earlier symbolism from the pre-Jerome order.[35] Though it’s clear what the image represents, the animal looks very little like an actual lion. The animal lacks the lion’s most noticeable trait, the mane, and doesn’t look particularly ferocious, despite the presence of three large teeth. In fact, with the sagging tongue protruding from its mouth, and the pronounced snout, the animal looks much more like a common dog than anything found in the jungle. The curvy tail and the pointed feet, however, are more majestic and recognizably lion-like. It’s understandable that the Hiberno-Saxons might have had trouble accurately portraying a beast that they almost certainly had never laid eyes upon in real-life.

            Obviously, the color scheme and the pattern on the lion’s coat do not add to the realism. As in most Hiberno-Saxon drawings of humans and animals, the image is highly stylized—the beast almost looks as if it is wearing an elaborate costume. Drawn in profile, with a raised, curving tail, the animal is covered in bright-colored, patterned fur. A ribbon-like, solid yellow outline traces the animal’s stomach, shoulders and chest. The feet, the eyeball, and most of the tail are also solid yellow, while the head and part of the stomach are white, peppered with red dots. This dotted pattern almost gives the impression that these areas have been shaven. The rest of the animal is composed of a red and green, checkered pattern. The checks become progressively smaller going down the leg of the animal, apparently to contort to the available space.

            As in almost all Hiberno-Saxon artwork, a frame encloses the image. In this case, the frame consists of four panels, with the sections at the top and bottom thicker than those on the side. The top and bottom panels contain swirling, overlapping ribbons of red, green and yellow, on a black background. The side panels contain thinner ribbons of green, yellow and white with red dots, also on a black background. Right in front of the animal, the frame, in a sense, opens up by changing in color from red to green. The dotted ribbon in the border recalls the pattern on the animal’s head and stomach, the swirling yellow ribbons resemble the animal’s tail, and the little white triangles scattered throughout resemble the animal’s teeth.

Interestingly, the lion only takes up about a third of the page. In Hiberno-Saxon paintings, space is a highly prized commodity. Just as most children learn early on to fill the page, the Hiberno-Saxons did not like to waste space. If left with a long and narrow area, many Hiberno-Saxon artists might choose to fill the space with a tall, skinny figure. If left with a short and wide space, they’d likely opt for someone short and fat. If the figure itself could not be manipulated, the frame is often expanded to fill the space. In this case, though the lion’s length does extend to the edge of the frame, the space above and below the creature is simply left blank. While the frame is often one of the more important aspects in Hiberno-Saxon painting, in this case, the lion truly takes precedence. By leaving so much blank space on the page, this artist gives prominence to the central figure.

The lettering in the manuscripts is often as magnificent as the illustrations. As Nordenfalk puts it, “The very process of writing changed from a simple means of communication to something almost talismanic, by being combined with ornament—a totally new and persuasive style of the book.”[36] The lettering, sometimes called “insular majuscule” often contains magnificent swirling patterns and is a work of art in itself. In fact, the lettering is often labyrinth-like in its almost excessive complexity. Punctuation and spaces between words were not yet in standard use, so letters in the page are just one big jumble, though size and variation in placement on the page highlight and accentuate certain key words and phrases.

The letters, varying in size and shape, are regularly adorned with animal heads, snake-like ribbons, and other flourishes. From such pages, it seems abundantly clear that the Anglo-Saxons valued intricacy of design over streamlined simplicity. From a reader’s standpoint, the lettering is quite impractical. The highly ornamented letters—headache inducing in their excessiveness—might have been a bit of a nuisance to anyone attempting to use the text as a reference. But, as Janet Backhouse points out, “the books were not intended for students in a library, but for ceremonial use in Church.”[37] The main purpose of the lavish decoration was to enshrine and elevate the sacred texts. They succeed in their majesty; as art, these pages have an awe-inducing splendor and show true aesthetic inventiveness.

            A page from the Lindisfarne Gospels[38] epitomizes the popular style of ornamented text. The right hand-side and bottom of the page has a border of a non-uniform shape, which contorts itself to the outlines of the lettering. The border, broken into several pieces, is filled with interweaving serpents and ends, at two points, in bird’s heads. Every letter on the page is outlined with red dots, though there is a huge range in the complexity of each individual letter. The “X” that begins the text is probably the most elaborate. Filled with inter-weaving serpents, it extends the border, helping to enclose the rest of the text. Like a vine growing on the side of a building, the twists and turns of its contours seem almost uncontrolled. The next two letters, the P and I, are almost equally elaborate. With the X, they form an abbreviation meaning “Christi” or “Christ.” These three letters blend together, forming a colorful jumble. Scattered blue circles containing inter-locking snakeheads break up the clutter. By making X,P and I the most elaborate letters on the page, the artist emphasizes and draws attention to Christ’s name.

Extending downward, the P and I, vine-like, grow into the next line. The letters on this line are opaque and relatively unadorned, except for the red-dotted outline. Some letters are combined, creating what appear to be non-Roman characters. For example, in the second word, “autem,” the “M” is turned on its side, overlapping with the E, forming one character. With each line, every row of text grows progressively smaller. The lettering on the last three lines has simple black contours, with the exception of one letter, which is opaque, like the letters on the second line. A few of the letters overlap, while, on the third line, we find an E buried in an O. Other than these occasional flourishes, the last three rows of text are relatively uniform in comparison to the first two lines. Green, yellow and purple coloring in the recesses of the letters add a splash of color.

            Just as pattern and artistic flourishes are abundant in Anglo-Saxon art and artifacts, in both the pre-Christian and Christian era, we see a similar style in the structure of Beowulf, which is a magnificent blending of real and imaginary, pagan and Christian, precision and abstraction. Even the structure of the poem does not progress sequentially. Though the poet provides us with highly detailed and vivid accounts, the poem does not take the form of a regular narrative. Instead, it is a collection of loosely connected stories, interwoven like the elaborate patterns that decorate so much Anglo-Saxon art. Instead of a traditional plot, the novel is organized around the theme of good conquering evil and is centered on three main events, which fit into that theme: Beowulf’s conquering of Grendel, Grendel’s mother, and the dragon. The battle scenes are certainly grand and elegantly written. Take for example Beowulf and Wiglaf’s killing of the dragon: “And Beowulf drew/His battle-sharp dagger: the blood-stained old king/Still knew what he was doing. Quickly, he cut/the beast in half, slit it apart./It fell, their courage had killed it.”[39] This is a fast-paced, exciting scene touching on many of the novel’s themes, including glory, courage, and more subtly, aging and weakness. But, even in gruesome battle scenes such as this, the action of the battle, though important, is not necessarily the center of attention.

In fact, if we begin counting lines, we realize that descriptions of battle take up a surprisingly tiny fraction of the poem itself. The majority of the novel is much more leisurely paced, giving many of the characters time to express their philosophies and beliefs. Battles do not make up the majority of the story: instead they are almost like cinder blocks upon which the poem is based. As Burton Raffel says in the introduction to his translation, “Preliminaries—speeches, advice, reminiscences—are fully as important as actual fighting, and take longer in the telling.”[40] Often, Beowulf, Hrothgar and other characters give great orations on important matters. Other times, it is the poet himself who is proselytizing. After the fight with Grendel, the poet says, “God’s dread loom/was woven with defeat for the monster,…who doubts that God in his wisdom and strength holds the earth forever in his hands?”[41] Here, the poet is combing Pagan and Christian sentiments in stating that Grendel’s defeat is part of God’s complex plot. As if to further the intricacy of the sentiment, the poet uses a woven tapestry as a metaphor for the nature of God’s master plan. It’s a fitting choice, given the tapestry-like structure of the poem itself.

As we have seen, pattern is a major theme in Anglo-Saxon art and artifacts, and in Beowulf. From the magnificent items in the find at Sutton Hoo, including shoulder clasps, hanging bowls, swords and helmets, to the highly ornamented illuminated manuscripts of the Christian period, pattern is a constant presence. In the extraordinary objects that we have, common motifs from all periods included mosaic patterns, serpent-shaped ribbons, ornamented lettering, and animal head designs. The presence of such motifs suggests far ranging influences from across Europe and throughout Asia. Both the pagans and the Christians highly valued tradition and culture, which is why they were so adept at weaving together influences from a variety of cultures, both contemporary and long past. The objects that we have from the period give us a fascinating peak at the mindset of these people. Similarly, Beowulf gives us insight as an historical document and as complexly structured work of poetic fiction. Though the Hiberno-Saxons are often thought of as simple people, simplicity does not come to mind when viewing the magnificent work they produced throughout the years.

Annotated Bibliography

Backhouse, Janet. The Lindisfarne Gospels. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1981.

This is a study of one of the most visually striking and elaborate illuminated manuscripts, The Lindisfarne Gospels. This is an excellent reference, and includes a number of full-color illustrations. While not quite as thorough as Brown’s book, it covers many of the same topics.

Bain, George. Celtic Art. New York: Dover, 1973.

This is a fascinating book, not so much from a research point of view, but from an artistic one. I wasn’t able to use much of the information for my paper, but it is an invaluable tool for anyone who is interested in making art in the Celtic (and Anglo-Saxon) tradition. There are many detailed diagrams explaining, for example, how to make elaborate snake-like patterns and ribbons.

Clark Hall, John R., trans. Beowulf and the Finnesburg Fragment: a Translation into Modern English Prose. London: George Allen and Unwin, 1954.

            Another Beowulf translation that I used primarily for the author’s introduction.

Carver, Martin. Sutton Hoo: Burial Ground of Kings? Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1998.

This book was written by a man who has been a part of much of the recent excavations of Sutton Hoo. It’s an interesting study from a unique perspective.

Bloom, Harold (ed.) Modern Critical Interpretation of Beowulf. New York: Chelsea

House, 1987.

Countless criticism has been written on Beowulf in the last century. This book is a quite convenient collection of the best of that criticism, in one compact volume. I didn’t find the introduction by Harold Bloom particularly helpful. However, the essay “The Monsters and the Critics” by J.R.R. is a seminal, early look at Beowulf from a literary (non-historical) point of view. By contrast, Roberta Frank’s look at Beowulf from an historical perspective is also quite interesting.

Brown, Michelle P. The Lindisfarne Gospels: Society, Spirituality and the Scribe.

Toronto: University of Toronto Press: 2003.

A quite recent book, this is, like Backhouse’s volume, an in depth analysis of the Lindisfarne Gospels, with lots of full-color plates. The book covers the historical background of the manuscript, the making of the manuscript (the artwork, the lettering and the binding), and detailed analyses of the art itself. It also includes a CD-Rom with every page of the manuscript (although I could not get the library’s copy of the CD-Rom to work).

Kendall, Calvin B. and Peter S. Wells (eds.) Voyage to Other World: The Legacy of Sutton Hoo. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1992.

This is a collection of essays on many different aspects of the Sutton Hoo ship burial. The article “Sutton Hoo Art” by Gloria Polizotti and Michael Geselowitz is particularly informative, though it might have been better if some photographs of the objects discussed had been provided (though we can use other sources to find such pictures). There are also two quite interesting essays comparing Beowulf and the reality of Sutton Hoo.

Kendrick, T.D. Anglo-Saxon Art to 900 AD. New York: Barnes and Nobel, 1972.

This book was written in 1938 by the curator of British and Medieval Antiquities in the British Museum. That it was written less than a year before the discovery of Sutton Hoo is quite unfortunate, as such a large amount of known art from the period is, therefore, not discussed. This book is quite out of date, whereas, if it had been written in 1939, it would still be fairly relevant. Nevertheless, it is an interesting study of the art available at the time.

Nordenfalk, Carl. Celtic and Anglo-Saxon Paintings. New York: George Braziller, 1977.

This book has many brilliant, full-color plates, which are side by side with Nordenfalk’s well-crafted observations and descriptions. I found the book to be direct and well-organized.

Raffel, Burton (trans.) Beowulf. New York: Mentor, 1963.

This is not a very recent translation, and it is not the most commonly used today (that is probably Seamus Heaney’s). But this 1963, verse translation seems very good at conveying the original poet’s mood and tone. I began my conference work by looking at this translation of Beowulf. The comparisons between Beowulf and Anglo-Saxon art are endless. First of all, we can compare the passages in Beowulf describing Anglo-Saxon burial and tradition to the reality of Sutton Hoo and other finds. On a thematic level, the use of pattern in Beowulf suggests the Anglo-Saxon’s highly patterned art and artifacts.

Wilson, David. Anglo-Saxon Art: From the Seventh Century to the Norman Conquest.

London: Thames and Hudson: 1984

An excellent look of early Anglo-Saxon art, with many great full color photographs. Wilson gives a clear and precise overview of the facts, and his opinions are wise, well thought out and highly informed.