An Old Norse Saga Guide to Surviving the Holidays

Christmas is the most wonderful time of the year, but between treacherous weather, family politics, and dietary decisions, it can also be a tricky time to navigate. To help you get through the season, here are some top tips from the Old Norse sagas on surviving the holidays.

Drinking with the Devil. Reykjavík, Stofnun Árna Magnússonar í íslenskum fræðum, AM 673 a III 4to (Teiknibók), 18v. Image from handrit.is

Pick the right day to celebrate

If you lived in the Middle Ages, deciding when to host your winter festivities could be tricky. For a long time, as Scandinavia gradually converted to Christianity, the winter months saw the coexistence of two different Yule festivals: Christian Christmas and pagan Jól. The latter was likely celebrated differently across the region but said in one king’s saga, Hákonar saga góða, to begin on midwinter night and continue for three nights. These diverging celebrations became a point of friction during the conversion process so, around the middle of the tenth century, the Christian Norwegian king, Hákon the Good, attempted to consolidate the two. According to his saga, he decreed that ‘observance of Yule should begin at the same time as Christian people observed Christmas’ (97).

Although not without its challenges, this was a clever move. We can see its legacy several decades later in Óláfs saga helga, which describes the changing customs of a man named Sigurðr:

During the pagan period, he was accustomed to hold three sacrificial banquets every year, one at the winter nights, the second at midwinter, the third in the summer. And when he accepted Christianity, he still kept up his established custom with the banquets. Then, in the autumn he held a great party for his friends, and also a Yule feast in the winter and then again invited many people; a third banquet he held at Easter. (127)

Once you’ve settled on a date to celebrate, make sure you invite the right people – and if you get an invitation to someone else’s Yule-feast, it’s bad form to not show up. Some time after Sigurðr’s death, his brother Þórir invited his son Ásbjǫrn to a Yule feast, but Ásbjǫrn refused the invitation. Þórir took this as a personal slight and in return made such great mockery of Ásbjǫrn and his expeditions that Ásbjǫrn sullenly ‘stayed at home during the winter and went to no parties’ (131). A sad fate indeed.

Choose the perfect gifts

To be a powerful king in medieval Scandinavia, you had to surround yourself with groups of loyal retainers who would feast with you, fight for you, and uphold your rules. This loyalty needed to be rewarded, and Yule was the perfect time for kings and other powerful men to shower their best retainers with gifts. There’s even a term for gifts given in this season: ‘jólagjǫf’. In Óláfs saga helga, for instance, it is said that the king had a custom of ‘making great preparations, […] gathering together his treasures to give friendly gifts on the eighth evening of Yule’ (199). One of these gifts was a beautiful gold-adorned sword, given to his skald Sigvatr. This was said to be a fine, enviable treasure, though perhaps not as enviable as Óláfr’s earlier gift to Brynjólfr, which he received with a rather unimaginative verse:

Bragningr gaf mér
brand ok Vettaland.

The ruler gave me a sword and Vettaland (an important estate). (51)

Yule-gifts were also an important way to cement friendships and alliances in Scandinavian and Icelandic society, for which clothes appear to have been a popular choice. According to Laxdæla saga, King Haraldr Fairhair once gifted Óláfr Peacock ‘an entire suit of clothes made from scarlet’ (30). Even more impressive is a set of Yule-gifts exchanged between the Norwegian Arinbjǫrn and the Icelander Egill in Egils saga:

As a customary Yuletide gift, [Arinbjorn] gave Egil a silk gown with ornate gold embroidery and gold buttons all the way down, which was cut especially to fit Egil’s frame. He also gave him a complete set of clothes, cut from English cloth in many colours. Arinbjorn gave all manner of tokens of friendship at Yuletide to the people who visited him, since he was exceptionally generous and firm of character. (134)

Of course, before you splash out on expensive swords or clothes, you need to make sure the receiver is worthy of your gift. This is what King Raknarr did on the eve before Yule in the semi-legendary Bárðar saga snæfellsáss, entering the hall of King Óláfr Tryggvason, decked out with armour, helmet, sword, gold necklace, and gold ring. After going round the room to no response, he finally announces scathingly: “Here have I come and nothing at all has been offered to me by this great figure. I shall be more generous for I shall offer to award those treasures that I have here now to that man who dares to take them from me — but there is no one like that here.” (261)

Raknarr’s passive aggressive gifting strategy may not be the best example to follow, particularly as he turns out to be a reanimated corpse who must be slain by the hero Gestr. Instead, why not take inspiration from the troll-woman Hít in the same saga (254), whose Yule party favor for Gestr is a wonderfully loyal dog!

Feast and be merry!

Once you’ve bought and wrapped your presents, the next step is to plan your menu. The sagas are full of Yule feasts, although they rarely provide specific details of what is actually eaten. At one point in Eiríks saga rauða, for example, Eiríkr is hosting a number of voyagers over the winter at his home in Greenland, but starts to become gloomy as Yule approaches for he does not have the resources to throw them all a proper holiday feast. One of the voyagers, Karlsefni, comes to his rescue, offering him use of their provisions:

“[...] We’ve malt and flour and grain aboard our ships, and you may help yourself to them as you will, to prepare a feast worthy of your generous hospitality.”

Eirik accepted this. Preparations for a Yule feast began, which proved to be so bountiful that men could scarcely recall having seen its like. (11)

What exactly was in that grand feast goes entirely unstated, but it clearly involved some kind of malt, flour, and grain.Hákonar saga góða does suggest that horse meat was an important part of pagan Yule and other feasts. One winter, the saga relates, King Hákon attended a Yule feast with a large number of farmers from Þrándheimr, where he was very reluctantly forced to eat a few pieces of horse-liver and ‘drank all the toasts that the farmers poured for him without the sign of the Cross’ (102). It’s never good to offend your hosts — especially when they are armed.

One way to get into the sacred spirit of Christmas in advance of the gluttony to come is to fast in preparation. Indeed, not doing so could have dire consequences. In Grettis saga, the ill-tempered Glámr demanded meat from his wife on the eve of Yule. She tried to dissuade him, saying, “It’s not the Christian custom to eat on this day, because tomorrow is the first day of Christmas. It is our duty to fast today.” (101) Glámr scoffed at this, claiming a preference for the old pagan ways, and tucked into his meat. That very night, he was found dead in the snow and, even worse, eventually rose again to haunt the area.

As Christianity became the dominant religion in Scandinavia, later kings were less accepting of the old customs. One winter, King Óláfr the Holy got word that the farmers of Innþrœndir had been holding forbidden midwinter sacrificial feasts, and summoned a representative to explain themselves. But the quick-thinking man had the perfect excuse:

“We held,” he says, “Yule banquets and in many places in the districts drinking parties. The farmers do not make such scant provision for their Yule banquets that there is not a lot left over, and that was what they were drinking, lord, for a long time afterwards. At Mærin there is a large centre and huge buildings, and extensive settlements round about. People find it good to drink together there for enjoyment in large numbers.” (117)

The king remained suspicious, but could not fault the farmer’s logic. For, if there’s one thing about Christmas that everyone can agree on, it’s the importance of alcohol.

Drink… but not too much

When King Hákon the Good ordered the convergence of Yule and Christmas, he had one condition of how to celebrate: each person was to consume a measure of ale (16.2 litres, according to one estimate) and celebrate for as long as the ale lasted, or else pay a fine (97).

Drinking is a key component of most Yule feasts described across the sagas. Even core principles like seeking vengeance for fallen kin must come second. In Hákonar saga herðibreiðs, for instance, King Ingi relates that he told one man about the killing of another, sure that he would be spurred to vengeance, but ‘those people behaved as if nothing was as important as that Yule drinking feast and it could not be interrupted’ (227).

In fact, throughout the sagas, Yule-drinking (‘jóla-drykkja’) causes all sorts of problems. According to Óláfs saga helga, a Yule drinking competition in Jamtaland naturally led to bickering between Norwegians and Swedes, and the spilling of secrets as ‘the ale spoke through the Jamtr’ (172). In Eyrbyygja saga, Þórólfr bægifótr got his thralls drunk at Yule and convinced them to burn down an enemy’s house (168–69). The troll-woman’s Yule-feast in Bárðar saga Snæfellsáss steadily deteriorated as the drinking got heavier, leading to a rowdy game, a bloody nose, and a long feud (253).

Even without alcohol, Yule became a time of battle and slaughter throughout the sagas of kings. It is only in Magnúss saga blinda ok Haralds gilla that the two titular warring kings accepted a Christmas truce ‘because of the sanctity of the time’, although Magnúss did use this opportunity to fortify his town and ‘no more than three days over Yule were kept sacred so that no work was done’ (175).

This is a good example for academics everywhere: as much as we might feel the need to work over the holidays, there comes a time to put down our books, buy some gifts, and feast with family, friends, and nemeses — even if it is for just three days over Yule. If you manage to do so, you might just make it through the season alive.

Ashley Castelino, DPhil
Public Humanities Postdoctoral Fellow 
Medieval Institute, University of Notre Dame 

Bibliography

Bard’s Saga [Bárðar saga snæfellsáss]. Translated by Sarah M. Anderson. In The Complete Sagas of Icelanders, edited by Viðar Hreinsson. Vol. 2. Leifur Eiríksson, 1997.

Egil’s Saga [Egils saga]. Translated by Bernard Scudder. In The Complete Sagas of Icelanders, edited by Viðar Hreinsson. Vol. 1. Leifur Eiríksson, 1997.

Erik the Red’s Saga [Eiríks saga rauða]. Translated by Keneva Kunz. In The Complete Sagas of Icelanders, edited by Viðar Hreinsson. Vol. 1. Leifur Eiríksson, 1997.

The Saga of Grettir the Strong [Grettis saga]. Translated by Bernard Scudder. In The Complete Sagas of Icelanders, edited by Viðar Hreinsson. Vol. 2. Leifur Eiríksson, 1997.

The Saga of the People of Eyri [Eyrbyggja saga]. Translated by Judy Quinn. In The Complete Sagas of Icelanders, edited by Viðar Hreinsson. Vol. 5. Leifur Eiríksson, 1997.

The Saga of the People of Laxardal [Laxdæla saga]. Translated by Keneva Kunz. In The Complete Sagas of Icelanders, edited by Viðar Hreinsson. Vol. 5. Leifur Eiríksson, 1997.

Snorri Sturluson. Hákonar saga góða. In Heimskringla, translated by Alison Finlay and Anthony Faulkes. Vol. 1. Viking Society for Northern Research, 2011.

Snorri Sturluson. Hákonar saga herðibreiðs. In Heimskringla, translated by Alison Finlay and Anthony Faulkes. Vol. 3. Viking Society for Northern Research, 2015.

Snorri Sturluson. Óláfs saga helga. In Heimskringla, translated by Alison Finlay and Anthony Faulkes. Vol. 2. Viking Society for Northern Research, 2014.

The Riddle of Grendel’s Monstrous Mother: Echoes of Scylla in Beowulf?

Grendel’s mother has long been regarded by scholars as the least monstrous of the three—not being an obvious vampire-cannibal like Grendel nor a fire-breathing dragon. Her vengeful response to the death of her son, and her decision to continue the feud between the Grendelkin has been regarded as ethical (within the broader context of warrior ethos), legal (within the context of early medieval Norse and English laws), and even heroic (aligned with the heroism as depicted in the poem).

Grendel’s mother tries to stab Beowulf. Illustration by J.R. Skelton, 1908.

While I would generally agree with this broad characterization of Grendel’s mother, and there is no doubt that her actions mirror those of any avenging warrior in Beowulf, to erase her monstrosity seems to ignore at least some of the evidence. While I do not find her maternity at all indicative of abject horror (indeed quite the opposite as it is her identity as “mother” that humanizes her in my view), certain terms used to describe her and indeed everything from her association as Caines cynn “Cain’s kin” (107; 1261-65) and the hellish descriptions of her lair suggest some measure of monstrosity embedded in her character. And for this Halloween, we will spend some time unpacking the nature of her monstrosity.

I would contend that the main reason scholars argue about Grendel’s mother’s monstrosity and characterization is because of her enigmatic design. As I point out in my dissertation, riddles encode Beowulf, and, in my opinion, employ riddling rhetorical strategies, especially imitation, equivocation, esotericism and paradox. These obfuscations help account for the many irregularities observed in the poem the scholars have scratched their heads over for more than a century and help explain why often the heroes looks like the monsters—and the monsters like the heroes.  

Grendel’s mother battles Beowulf. Illustration by John Howe, 2006. All rights reserved.

Because of the influence of riddling rhetorical strategies on Beowulf, turning to the Anglo-Latin enigmata tradition is an especially fruitful practice, especially in explorations of monstrosity in the poem. Indeed, monsterized riddles have long been a feature starting with the late classical enigmatist, Symphosius, who establishes the Anglo-Latin tradition, includes numerous riddles on wondrous creatures, such as the phoenix (Enigma 31). Similarly, Aldhelm’s enigmata also feature numerous monsterized riddles, in some cases the solution is a wondrous creature (as with Symphosius’ paradoxical phoenix-riddle), in other cases the mundane is made monstrous through imitation, and the monsterization is another mechanism of obfuscation (as in Aldhelm’s Enigma 97 solved nox). Even Boniface, whose riddles center on vices and virtues, monsterizes his vice-riddles in the mode of Prudentius’ Psychomachia, a popular classroom text in early medieval English which depicts vices as monsters in an allegorical epic.

Ira’s sword shatters on Patientia’s helmet, then the enraged Ira dies by her own blade (c.900, Bern, Burgerbibliothek, Codex 264, p.79).

But what does this have to do with Grendel’s monstrous mother? Let’s start with her introduction and the complex portrait it paints:

Þæt gesyne wearþ,
widcuþ werum,   þætte wrecend þa gyt

lifde æfter laþum,   lange þrage,
æfter guðceare:   Grendles modor.
Ides aglæcwif   yrmþe gemunde,
se þe wæteregesan   wunian scolde,
cealde streamas,   siþðan Cain wearð
to ecgbanan   angan breþer,
fæderenmæge.   He þa fag gewat,
morþre gemearcod,   mandream fleon,
westen warode. 

“That became manifest, widely known to men, that an avenger still lived after the hostile one, for a long time, after war-grief: Grendel’s mother. A lady, a fearsome woman remembered misery, he who must inhabit the terrible-waters, the cold streams because Cain became the edge-slayer to his only brother, kin of the same father. He then went hostile, marked by murder, fled the joys of men, inhabiting the wilderness.”

Beowulf, 1255-65.

The first term used to describe Grendel’s mother emphasizes her desire for vengeance. The narrator names her a wrecend “avenger” (1256) —an appropriate title considering her entire characterization is framed by revenge and feuding—and her motive is thrice repeated almost verbatim and with language that could apply equally to avenging heroes in the poem (1276-78, 1339-1340, 1546). Moreover, Grendel’s mother’s is thrice described as wif “woman” (1259, 1519, 2120,) and even twice as an ides “lady” (1259, 1351) establishing gender as one of the pillars of her characterization, alongside her roles as avenger and mother. Kinship ties are further emphasized when Grendel’s mother is described as Grendles maga “Grendel’s female relative” (1391) and twice as Grendles mæg “Grendel’s kinsman” (2006, 2353), which account for her desire for revenge in upholding the warrior ethics and continuing the feud between the Danes and the Grendelkin.

Beowulf fights Grendels mother Gareth Hinds
Beowulf fights Grendel’s mother. Illustration fromm Gareth Hinds graphic novel, Beowulf (2007). All rights reserved.

Moreover, like the monstrous vices in Prudentius’ Psychomachia and Boniface’s Enigmata, the avenger—Grendel’s mother—is clearly wondrous and monstrous in certain descriptions of her. She and her lake monsters are wæteregesa “water-terrors” (1260). Grendel’s mother is called se broga “the terror” (1260), and together with her son, she is described as mihitig manscaða “man-slayer” (1339), micle mearcstapa “great marked-wanderer” (1348), dyrna gast “secret spirit” (1357), ælwiht “alien thing” (1518), thrice as ellorgæst “foreign spirit” (1349, 1617, 1621) and even deofol “devil” (1680). She is even described as a merewif mihtig “mighty mermaid” (1519), aglæcwif “fearsome warrior woman” (1259) or wif unhyre “untamed woman” (2120), grundwyrgenne “ground wolf” (1518) and twice is characterized with the compound a brimwulf “sea-wolf” (1506, 1599).

It is my contention that descriptions of Scylla—a classical monster, famously featured in the Odyssey and popular in Anglo-Latin literature contemporary with Beowulf—likely influence the characterization of Grendel’s mother, a riddle embedded in the poetic compounds used to describe her and in the depiction of her monstrous lair.

Scylla as a maiden with a kētos tail and dog heads sprouting from her body. Detail from a red-figure bell-crater in the Louvre, 450–425 BC. This form of Scylla was prevalent in ancient depictions.

Scylla is a monstrous sea creature from Greek mythology, known for inhabiting a narrow strait opposite the whirlpool Charybdis. She often has multiple heads with each head bearing a set of sharp, ravenous teeth. Scylla’s body is a woman’s often combining serpentine, aquatic and canine features. She emerges from a rocky cliffside and narrow passage where she lives. She preys on passing sailors, snatching them from ships with her many heads and her “sea dogs” which accompany her. Once a beautiful nymph, she becomes cursed and exiled.

Scylla is the riddle-subject of Aldhelm’s Enigma 95 (solved Scilla) and is featured in his prose De uirginitate (X). Aldhelm’s Enigma 95 describes Scylla as follows:

Ecce, molosorum nomen mihi fata dederunt
(Argolicae gentis sic promit lingua loquelis),
Ex quo me dirae fallebant carmina Circae,
Quae fontis liquidi maculabat flumina uerbis;
Femora cum cruribus, suras cum poplite bino
Abstulit immiscens crudelis uerba uirago.
Pignora nunc pauidi refereunt ululantia nautae,
Tonsis dum trudunt classes et caerula findunt.
Uastos uerrentes fluctus grassante procella,
Palmula qua remis succurrit panda per undas,
Auscultare procul quae latrant inguina circum.
Sic me pellexit dudum Titania proles,
Ut merito vivam salsis in fluctibus exul.

“Look, the Fates gave me the name of dogs—thus does the language of the Greeks render it in words—ever since the incantations of dread Circe, who stained the waters of the flowing mountains with her words, deceived me. Weaving words, the cruel witch deprived me of thighs together with shins, and calves, together with knees. Terrified mariners relate that, as they impel their ships with oars and cleave the sea, sweeping along the mighty wave while the tempest rages, where the broad blade of howling offspring that bark about my loins. Thus the daughter Titan [scil. Circe] once tricked me, so that I should live as an exile—deservedly—in the salty waves.”

Lapidge and Rossier, Aldhelm: The Poetic Works, 91.

In this riddle, solved Scylla (Scilla), Aldhelm emphasizes her canine connection, and gives a reference to her origin in Greek mythology and her transformation at the hands of the witch, Circe. There is also mention of the danger she poses to any who sail by her watery abode, alongside her “howling offspring that bark” about her an further threaten wayward travelers.

Scylla and Glaucus by Peter Paul Rubens (ca. 1636)
Scylla and Glaucus by Peter Paul Rubens (ca. 1636). Musée Bonnat-Helleu.

Scylla also appears twice in the Liber monstrorum (I.14, II.19), where she is described in detail. This first mention from Liber monstrorum I.14 in the section on humaniod monsters is as follows:

Scylla monstrum nautis inimicissimum in eo freto quod Italiam et Siciliam interluit fuisse perhibetur capite quidem et pectore uirginali sicut sirenae, sed luporum uterum et caudas delfinorum habuit. Et hoc sirenarum et Scyllae distinguit naturam quod ipsae morifero carmine mauigantes decipiunt et illa per uim fortitudinis marinis succinta canibus miserorum fertur lacerasse naufragia.

“It is reckoned that Scylla has been the monster most hostile to sailors in that channel which washes between Italy and Sicily, having indeed the head and chest of a maiden (like the sirens), but the belly of a wolf and the tail of dolphins. And what distinguishes the nature of the sirens from Scylla is that they deceive seamen by their deadly song, whilst she with the strength of her force, girt about with sea-dogs, is said to have mangled the wrecks of the unfortunate .”

Orchard, Pride and Prodigies, 266-67.

This description emphasizes her superlative hostility [inimicissimum]—similar to Grendel’s mother’s characterization as an aglæcwif “fearsome warrior woman” (1259) or wif unhyre “untamed woman” (2120). Emphasis on the narrow channel where Scylla resides shifts to her hybrid representation with “the head and chest of a maiden (like sirens) but the belly of a wolf and the tail of a dolphins” (fuisse perhibetur capite quidem et pectore uirginali sicut sirenae, sed luporum uterum et caudas delfinorum habuit). This establishes Scylla as a woman-canine-marine creature, combining “maiden” (virgo), “wolf” (lupus), and “dolphin” (delphinus) parts. Moreover, she is twice compared to the treacherous sirens, while explaining that unlike the sirens, who use song to ensnare their victims, Scylla uses force, violence and her mighty strength, with her “sea-dogs” (marinis canibus) to take down unfortunate sailors who enter her domain.

Scylla, relief sculpture on a pair of terracotta plaques with glass inlays, late 4th century BCE; in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City, Sandra Brue Gift, 1998 (accession no. 1998.210.1, .2); www.metmuseum.org.

In the second section, centered on bestial monsters, there is an entry on the sea-beasts of Scylla. Liber monstrorum II.19 reads as follows:

fingunt quoque poetae inmari Tyrrheno ceruleos esse canes, qui posteriorem corporis partem cum piscibus habent commune. Ipsis quoque Scyllam ratem Ulixis lacerans marinis succincta canibus describitur.

“the poets also image that there are azure dogs in the Mediterranean, the hind parts of whose bodies they share with fish; also girt round with these same sea-dogs Scylla is described tearing apart the ship of Ulysses”

Orchard, Pride and Prodigies, 266-67.

This entry focuses on the “azure dog” (ceruleos canes) or “sea dogs” (marinis canibus) of Scylla, which are described as featuring canine heads and legs, but “the hind parts of whose bodies they share with fish” (qui posteriorem corporis partem cum piscibus habent commune) making them a canine-marine hybrid creature. Scylla is directly mentioned in connection with her accompanying sea-monsters, and the passage directly references the struggles of Odysseus [i.e. Ulysses] when he encounters Scylla on his epic journey home.

Asteas - Europa on the bull - Dionysos with satyrs and maenads and Pan - Montesarchio
Paestan red figure calyx-crater showing Scylla wielding a trident (ca. 350 BCE). Museo Archeologico Nazionale del Sannio Caudino, Montesarchio. 

The key features of Scylla’s narrow channel are present also in the monster-mere found in Beowulf which is the home and hall of the Grendelkin. Grendel’s Mother’s lair is described in the poem as follows:

Hie dygel lond
warigeað, wulfhleoþu,   windige næssas,
frecne fengelad,   ðær fyrgenstream
under næssa genipu   niþer gewiteð,
flod under foldan
.

“They [Grendelkin] inhabit the secret land, the wolf-slopes, the windy narrows, the dangerous fen-path, where the mountain stream cascades downward under the cover of cliffs, the flood under the land.”

Beowulf, 1357-61.

This description emphasizes the dangerous narrows and the crafty cliffs surrounding the monstrous abode and in this way echoes Scylla’s watery domain. In this passage are numerous references to the steep and narrow geography, especially in descriptions of the wulfhleoþu windige næssas “wolf-slopes (and) windy narrows” (1358), and fyrgenstream under næssa genipu, “a mountain river under the cover of cliffs” (1359-60). As Beowulf enters the waves, he finds himself, like those caught by Scylla in the Odyssey, in a violent struggle for his life at the hands of a ferocious woman who pulls him to the depths of her haunted lake. The narrator explains how:

Bær þa seo brimwylf,   þa heo to botme com,
hringa þengel         to hofe sinum,
swa he ne mihte,         no he þæs modig wæs,
wæpna gewealdan,   ac hine wundra þæs fela
swencte on sunde,         sædeor monig
hildetuxum         heresyrcan bræc,
ehton aglæcan.         ða se eorl ongeat
þæt he in niðsele         nathwylcum wæs,
þær him nænig wæter         wihte ne sceþede,
ne him for hrofsele         hrinan ne mehte
færgripe flodes;         fyrleoht geseah,
blacne leoman,         beorhte scinan.
Ongeat þa se goda         grundwyrgenne,
merewif mihtig .

“When she came to the bottom, the sea-wolf bore the prince of rings to her hall, so he could not, no matter how brave he was, wield weapons, but so many wonders afflicted him while swimming, many a sea-beast poked the battle-armor with battle-tusks, harassed the fearsome assailant (Beowulf). Then the man perceived that he was in some kind of hostile-hall, where no water could harm them at all, nor could the sudden grasps of the flood touch them because of the roofed-hall.  He saw firelight, pale illumination brightly shining. Then the good one (Beowulf) perceived the bottom-wolf, the mighty sea-woman.”

Beowulf, 1506-1519.

Henry Justice Ford “Beowulf battles with Grendels Mother” (1899).

In reading this passage from the poem, we can observe numerous parallels between Grendel’s mother and Scylla, which I believe suggests that the classical monster, frequently featured in Anglo-Latin texts, may have influenced the depiction and characterization of Grendl’s mother. Just like with Scylla’s channel, the monster-mere in Beowulf includes sea-creatures that attack anyone who enters their watery lair. Both Scylla and Grendel’s mother are ancient, cursed and exiled monsters, the former as a result of a witch’s curse, the latter is prediluvian, cursed and marked as kin of Cain. Grendel’s mother seems to travel with sea-beasts (nicoras) which resemble Scylla’s sea-dogs. Both Scylla and Grendel’s mother are hybrid women monsters—featuring both canine or lupine characteristics (as indicated by her description as brimwulf “sea-wolf” and grundwyrgenne “bottom-wolf”) characteristics and piscine or serpentine characteristics (as indicated by her description as merewif “mermaid”). And, both Scylla and Grendel’s mom occupy a craggy narrow passage that is terrifying and dangerous for sailors or sea-men.

While I would not push so far as to contend that Grendel’s mother is intended as a literal representation of Scylla, and while I agree with others who have observed her ethically complex characterization, it seems plausible—even probable—that the famous Scylla could have influenced her enigmatic monsterization. At the very least, many counted among the learned audiences of Beowulf in early medieval England would likely have discerned the numerous and noteworthy parallels between these two monstrous women.

Richard Fahey, PhD
Medieval Institute
University of Notre Damme

Selected Bibliography

Acker, Paul. “Horror and the Maternal in Beowulf.Publication of the Modern Language Association 121.3 (2006): 702-16.

Aldhelm. Aldhelm: The Poetic Works. Translated by Michael Lapidge and James L. Rosier. Dover, NH: D. S. Brewer, 1985.

—. Aldhelm: The Prose Works. Translated by Michael Lapidge and Michael Herren. Cambridge, UK: D. S. Brewer, 1979.

Fahey, Richard. “Enigmatic Design and Psychomachic Monstrosity in Beowulf.” Dissertation: University of Notre Dame, 2020.

Hennequin, M. Wendy. “We’ve Created a Monster: The Strange Case of Grendel’s Mother.” English Studies 89.5 (2008): 503-23.

Klaeber’s Beowulf, 4th Edition. Edited by Robert D. Fulk, Robert E. Bjork and John D. Niles. Toronto, ON: University of Toronto Press, [reprint] 2009.

Kiernan, Kevin S. “Grendel’s Heroic Mother.” In Geardagum 6 (1984): 13-33.

Lockett, Leslie. “The Role of Grendel’s Arm in Feud, Law, and the Narrative Strategy of Beowulf.” In Latin Learning and English Lore: Studies in Anglo-Saxon Literature for Michael Lapidge (I), edited by Katherine O’Brien O’Keeffe and Andy Orchard, 368-88. Toronto, ON: University of Toronto Press, 2005.

Orchard, Andy. A Critical Companion to Beowulf. Cambridge, UK: D.S. Brewer, 2003.

—. Pride and Prodigies: Studies in the Monsters of the Beowulf-Manuscript. Toronto, ON: University of Toronto Press, 1995.

Sayers, William. “Grendel’s Mother, Icelandic Gryla, and Irish Nechta Scene: Eviscerating Fear.” Proceedings of the Harvard Celtic Colloquium 16 (1996): 256-68.

From Grendelkin to the NorthFolk NightMarket: Storytelling, Wintering and an Immersive Dramatization of Beowulf

My newly formed theater company, FaeGuild Wonders, having successfully organized two RenFaires last year, Enchanted Orchard Renaissance Faire (annual) and Wyndonshire Renaissance Faire (year one), was ready to pursue one of my bucket-list items, an immersive and interactive full scale theatrical production of Beowulf.  We pitched this idea for a winter festival centered on medieval literature to our partnering venue, Red Apple Farm, and the NorthFolk NightMarket was born. This event, to take place February 22-23, 2025 (from 3-9 PM EST), while expanded and redesigned, is in a sense a development of an older project, Grendelkin, which I began to conceive during my graduate studies as the University Notre Dame. With support from the Medieval Institute, Grendelkin debuted at Washington Hall in 2017, bringing together scholars, artists, dancers, musicians and storytellers to create an avant-garde interpretation of Beowulf centered on issues of monstrosity and heroism in the poem.

Al and Nancy Rose, owners of Red Apple Farm, the partnering venue for the NorthFolk NightMarket. Image by Rajuli Fahey (2025).

So far as creative director, I have only done fantasy theatrical medievalism at this scale: the “Wyndonshire Wedding” at Wyndonshire and “Seeds of Wonder” at Enchanted Orchard. And don’t get me wrong, I’ll probably mostly (or always) do fantasy in my theatrical medievalism. But in the NorthFolk NightMarket, I get the opportunity to explore some of my favorite works of medieval literature in a playful, interactive and public facing way. In many ways it’s anachronistic, and as my intention is to follow certain works of literature, the fantastic is imbued into the story and the spirit of the event.

My approach to authentic medievalism expressed in public theatrical events is not to focus on historical accuracy but to bring works of medieval literature to life for modern audiences and ways that are engaging, relevant and exciting. I also feel that the performances and music which is incorporated into the event, add layers to the NorthFolk NightMarket shows. For example, there are two songs included in the Beowulf show, one sung by Frank Walker, and another by Melegie (Melanie Long) that come from my translation or paraphrase of sections of farewell. In particular, the “Lay of Sigmund” is a versification of my translation, while Hildeburh’s song is an abbreviated redaction of her experience versified and accompanied by harp.

The main plot of the NightMarket’s theatrical production is the story of Beowulf, and a dream of mine realized. Beowulf is of course the subject of my dissertation, as well as much of my published scholarship, which centers on the Old English poem and the intersection between Anglo-Latin learning and Germanic lore, as well as tensions between Christian and pre-Christian ethos and worldviews in Beowulf. I composed an original script for the poem, some of which comes directly from my translation of Beowulf, and which imbues some scholarship as well as my own critical reading in this adaptation of the story. I also strove to elicit the humor I perceive in Beowulf, though irony in the poem is a topic of much scholarly debate and discussion. The cast includes the protagonists, Beowulf (Dave Fournier), Hroþgar (Gary Joiner), Wealhþeow (Leanne Blake) and Wiglaf (Mitchell Long), as well as supporting roles and characters from stories within the story, such as Hunferth (Dan Towle), Wulfgar (Devon Barker), Hondscio (Sezo Veniche), Æschere (Bryan Fallens), Hroþulf (Jack Praino), Hildeburh (Melegie: Melanie Long), Modthryth (Sylvia Sandridge), Hygd (Elizabeth Lassy-Glazier) and the Beowulf-burglar (Richard Goulette).

The Green Sash: Sezo Veniche (Hondscio), Gabrielle Emond (Sif), Andrew Hamel (Thor), Gary Joiner (Hroþgar), Christopher Lassy-Glazier (Weland), Brawn Beserker (Tyr), and Sara Hulsberg (Freya). Image by Rajuli Fahey (2025).

The story starts with Hroþgar’s boast and the terror of Grendel, until Beowulf arrives to slay his Danish demon in Act I. Ironically, and unwittingly, the hero performs a handshake exorcism upon the monster, inspiring Grendel to flee and rip off his own arm in his terrified retreat. Grendel’s mother is in Act II, and her story is centered on the horror of maternal experience in the heroic world of Beowulf and the sorrow of mothers within poem, in particular, how Wealhþeow, Hygd, Hildeburh and Grendel‘s mother all lose their sons (or will soon lose their son) throughout the narrative, and this dread and trauma frames the act as a prominent theme in the story. By the time we get to Act III, featuring the Beowulf-burglar’s theft of the treasure-cup and Beowulf’s wrath in the dragon battle, the focus is on hoarding and the plunder economy. In this way, I emphasize my psychomachic reading of Beowulf, especially his encounters with the monsters, into a performance that highlights the ironic comedy that underpins my reading.

The Green Sash, our Viking troop for the NightMarket, celebrating a raid on Orchard Town. Image from Enchanted Orchard (2024).

The NorthFolk NightMarket is about storytelling and wintering—entertainment while holding up in a hall or homestead in the north in order to survive the harsh, cold winter season. As an event designed to become an annual tradition, the plan is to center a different medieval literature every two years, and so we selected a story frame that would be consistent each year: witches from different literary and folkloric contexts, who are together plotting an Imbolc Sabbath while they observe, interact, and tell whatever medieval tale is being told that year.

Mt. Wichusett Witches in front of the Brew Barn at Red Apple Farm. Image from the GALA Music Festival (2024).

The Witches’ Sabbath includes well-known magic women from myth and legend, including Baba Yaga (Jessa Funa), Gryla (Katharine Taylor), Befana (Kellie Carter), Grimhild (Davyn Walsh), Morrigan (Chelsea Patriss), Medea (Lauren Robinson) and the Norns (Siobhan Doherty, Chrissy Brady & Kate Saab). The story frame is the organization of the Sabbath, and especially the tensions between these witches, who wish to invoke spring, and the Snow Queen (Jen Knight) and her frost fairy court, who wish to preserve the winter. In addition to our cast of character actor witches, a local performance group is also integrated into the theatrical show, the Mt. Wichusett Witches, and they have organized two dances for the Sabbath at the end of each day, which is Act IV, the final scripted act of the event.

Nikolaus Chagnon-Brauer, assistant playwright who scripted and organized the Yule Lad skits. Image from Enchanted Orchard (2024).

Accompanying Gryla are the Yule lads, from Icelandic folklore and cultural tradition, who promise to bring a bit humor to the event. This group has a number of immersive skits right in Red Apple Farm’s store, and a high school student and my assistant playwright for the event, Nikolaus Chagnon-Brauer, has taken lead on scripting these scenes. One of the joys of organizing this event has been collaborating with Nikolaus on this aspect of the winter festival, as doing so has allowed FaeGuild to carry out part of its mission to engage young people creatively and to build a team that is multigenerational.

Skeleton Crew Theater with a green dragon. Image from Enchanted Orchard (2024).

In addition to wandering witches, fairies and Yule lads, there will be marauding trolls, thanks to the puppetry of Skeleton Crew Theater another local partnering theatre company, as well as the Celtic goddess-made-saint, Brigid (Micayla Sullivan), the German demon Krampus (Sasha Khetarpal-Vasser), and Old Norse gods and goddess, including Odin (Richard Fahey), Freya (Sara Hulsberg), Tyr (Brawn Beserker), Thor (Andrew Hamel), Sif (Gabrielle Emond ), Loki (Tom Fahey), Bjorn (Lee Mumford), Weland (Christopher Lassy-Glazier) and Hel (Kerri Plouffe), many played by members of the live theater group the Green Sash.

Our Art Team for this event, led by Art Director Rajuli Fahey, and including Sylvia Sandridge (Costume Coordinator), Micayla Sullivan (Stagecraft Coordinator), Dave Fournier (Groundskeeper), and Gary Joiner, has endeavored to construct a world derived primarily from Beowulf and folklore. There will be the mead hall of Heorot, a haunted barrow, a path of exile, a monster mere, snow queen court and a witches’ den, in addition to many other set pieces based on myths and legends surrounding characters featured at the event.

Music Director Leanne Blake (front) with FaeGuild singers (Alex Deschenes, Chelsea Patriss, Sylvia Sandrige). Image from Wyndonshire Renaissance Faire (2024).

The NorthFolk NightMarket, as with Enchanted Orchard Renaissance Faire and the first year of Wyndonshire Renaissance Faire, has been a community effort. We are blessed to have so many exceptional and creative organizers as part of the FaeGuild Wonders team. One example is our Music Director, Leanne Blake, and the FaeGuild singers, who have put organized an incredible show that weaves together all the threads of the NightMarket, and which is sure to be a highlight of the events.

Immersive Director, Michael Barbosa-MacLean, who organized the FaeGuild Players, with Jack Praino (Hroþulf) and Ayden Mel (Yule Lad: Sheepcote Clod). Image from Enchanted Orchard (2024).

Additionally, for this event, we have added a new component, organized by our Immersive Director, Michael Barbosa-MacLean and the FaeGuild players, who will be on the streets of the NightMarket to bring patrons directly into the world of the faire. Other event organizers include our Jessa Funa (Community Coordinator), Amy Boscho (Fairy Court Coordinator), Tom Fahey (Sound Manager), Tal Good (Administrative Assistant) and Siobhan Doherty (Administrative Assistant). Without such an incredible team of creative partners, this inaugural event would not be possible.

The Harlot Queens, who will be performing as Danish Women in Heorot at the NorthFolk NightMarket. Image by Harlot Queens (2024).

The NorthFolk NightMarket features a market of artisan vendors, and an array of other performers including the Harlot Queens, Shank Painters, Winds of Alluria, Dead Gods Are the New Gods, the Iconic Daring Divas, the Phoenix Swords, the Warlock Wondershow, fire spinners and more. Additionally, there will be several historical demonstrations, including two historical combat groups, Historical European Martial Arts (HEMA) and Bayt Al-Asad: Middle Eastern Combat Arts (House of the Lion), which will educate festival goers on different historical sword-fighting traditions. There will also be specialty ciders, historical cooking and blacksmith demonstrations as part of the event.

Map made with Inkarnate, designed by Rajuli Fahey (2025).

In carrying on our tradition from previous faires, our focus is on community building and sustaining the arts, and we are honored to have been supported by so many community sponsors. In particular, we would like to thank Atlantic Tent Rental (for the discount and donated tent rentals), Market Basket (for use of their parking lot), the Armenian Church of Haverhill (for the beautiful wood donated to build the Hrothgar’s meadhall, benches and throne), Central Mass Tree Inc. (for providing firewood to keep everyone warm in the cold night), Eastern Propane (for providing gas for heat lamps needed in vendor tents), Killay Timber Company (for the wood for signage), Belletetes Lumber (for wood to build the set) and Magnolia Studio (for providing the cozy rehearsal space).

Organizing public medievalism events like this has been a dream come true. And I can say with certainty that the theatrical production of Beowulf at the NorthFolk NightMarket will be unlike any theatrical adaptation of the poem, and far from the usual treatments of the poem in popular culture, as it is derived from my own criticism and scholarship (and including others’ scholarship that has influenced mine as well). As such, the NorthFolk NightMarket presents the story of Beowulf as an ironic critique of heroism rather that a glorification of a warrior ethos (especially the desire for fame, vengeance and wealth) those very aspirations that so frequently continue haunt our modern world.

Further Reading

The Wyndonshire Wedding: Theatrical and Community Medievalism.‘” Medieval Studies Research Blog. Medieval Institute: University of Notre Dame (September 4, 2024).

Crafting a New Kind of Renaissance Faire: Theatrical Medievalism and the Aesthetic of Wonder.‘” Medieval Studies Research Blog. Medieval Institute: University of Notre Dame (August 14, 2024).

Fahey, Richard. “Grendel’s Shapeshifting: From Shadow Monster to Human Warrior.” Medieval Studies Research Blog. Medieval Institute: University of Notre Dame (October 27, 2021).

—. “Enigmatic Design & Psychomachic Monstrosity in Beowulf.” Dissertation: University of Notre Dame (2019).

—. “The Lay of Sigemund.” Medieval Studies Research Blog. Medieval Institute: University of Notre Dame (March 22, 2019).

Griffith, Mark. “Some Difficulties in Beowulf, Lines 874-902: Sigemund Reconsidered.” Anglo-Saxon England 24 (1995): 11-41.

Gwara, Scott. Heroic Identity in the World of Beowulf. Leiden, Netherlands: Brill, 2009.

O’Brien O’Keeffe, Katherine. “Beowulf, Lines 702b-836: Transformations and the Limits of the Human.” Texas Studies in Literature and Language 23.4 (1981): 484-94.

Orchard, Andy. Pride and Prodigies: Studies in the Monsters of the Beowulf-Manuscript. Toronto, ON: University of Toronto Press, 1995.

Schulman, Jana K. “Monstrous Introductions: Ellengæst and Aglæcwif.” In Beowulf at Kalamazoo: Essays on Translation and Performance, 69-92. Kalamazoo, MI: Medieval Institute Publications, 2012.

Vinsonhaler, N. Chris. “The HearmscaÞa and the Handshake: Desire and Disruption in the Grendel Episode.” Comitatus: A Journal of Medieval and Renaissance Studies 47 (2016): 1-36.