Beowulf ... my former hero ...

first and for most i will discus with you, the few who read this blog ... Beowulf WAS a hero of mine, his story rang through my heart and i felt the brush of angel's wings hoping one day, i, a mere mortal could one day be that great. unlike superman, or Achilles, Beowulf was ... real* (*real in the context of human, NOT "super") real like my love for Batman; (hint next blog: Beowulf and batman: men among gods) recently in light of this new movie coming out, i was existed and pumped for a good story and a great hero for me to look up to (the dark knight movie isn't coming out too soon). i loveD Beowulf, he was a hero to me, i idealized him for his actions to Grendel and GRENDEL'S UGLY!! MOTHER!!! (note how i say ugly, FUCKING ugly, not attractive like Angelina Jolie). here is a list on how they FUCKED up my hero Beowulf

*(spoiler alert for the recent movie)*

1. Beowulf lied to much, showed vanity and pride (i know Beowulf was prideful but not to the existent of the beginning of this movie, it gets better near the end)
2. Beowulf killed Grendel by removing his arm, not going into his mother's cave killing Grendel's mother and killing Grendel
3. Beowulf's character fell in love
4. Beowulf had sex with Grendel's mother
5. Beowulf became king of said pledged lands
6. Beowulf didn't go back to his homeland; geat, and gave treasure and a story to tell, plus didn't kill the sea serpent destroying the wild life in the land of geat
7. Beowulf stayed and ruled as king in said land
8. Beowulf became an empty shell built on lies
9. the dragon some how became Beowulf son
10. Beowulf died by blood loss from his arm being removed to kill the dragon, not by defending a stupid soldier and getting bit into the jugular vain
11. Beowulf was blown into the sea with all of his treasure and sunk into the sea by Grendel's mother and did not turn into an raven to be carried off by Odin
12. Beowulf remained a pagan, not a Christan
13. moral of this movie was that Christ killed all heroes

my love for Beowulf still remains, i still idealize him as one of the greatest heroes ever. but seeing how his life could be embellished and told this way hurt my view Little of my fabled hero. enough to make me very very very emotional. i feel robed almost. Beowulf stood by me when i needed him in my thoughts and my books along with batman, superman and Christ. heroes, i feel used almost like why did i believe this story of Beowulf with this one was presented to me. the movie made Beowulf look like he made the whole thing up. like a story teller rather then a hero. and that to me was a slap in the face, a smug remark to me, Beowulf is a hero and Beowulf is ... a legend and no one can change that about the ORIGINAL TAIL.

how Grendel died:

The mighty one, Beowulf, watched,
waiting to see how that wicked one
would go about starting.
Nor did the wretch delay,
but set about seizing
a sleeping warrior unawares
and bit into his bone locks,
drinking the streams of blood,
then swallowing huge morsels
of flesh. Quickly he ate that man,
even to his hands and feet.

Forward Grendel came,
stepping nearer. Then
he reached for Beowulf.

Beowulf grasped his arm
and sat up. The criminal
knew he had not met
in this middle-earth
another with such a grip.
Grendel's spirit was afraid
and his heart eager
to get away, to flee
to his hiding place, flee
to the devils he kept
for company. Never had he met
a man such as this.

Beowulf then kept in mind
the speeches he had made
in the evening and stood
upright, firmly grasping
Grendel's hand until
the fingers broke.

The monster strove to escape.
Beowulf stepped closer. That
famous monster suddenly wanted
to disappear into the fens.
He realized the power of those hands,
the wrathful grip he was in.
Grendel felt sorry
he had made a trip to Herot.

That hall of warriors dinned.
All the Danes of the city,
all the brave ones, feared disaster.
The building resounded.
It is a wonder the wine-hall
withstood the battle,
that the beautiful building
did not fall to the ground.
But it was made fast,
within and without,
with iron bands
forged with great skill.
I have heard say
many a mead bench
adorned in gold
went flying when
those hostiles fought.
No wise man had ever thought
that splendid building could
be damaged (unless a fire
should swallow it).

The din rose louder, the Danes stood
in dreadful terror--everyone
heard lamentation, a terrifying
song, through the wall:
Grendel, Hell's friend,
God's enemy, sang in defeat,
bewailing his wound.
That man, mightiest
of warriors alive, held fast.
He would not
for any reason
allow his murderous visitor
to escape alive,
to keep the days of his life.

Beowulf's warriors brandished
many a sword, inheritances
from the ancient days,
trying to protect their chief,
but that did no good: they
could not have known, those
brave warriors as they fought,
striking from all sides, seeking
to take Grendel's soul, that
no battle sword could harm him--
he had enchantment against
the edges of weapons.

The end of Grendel's life was
miserable, and he would travel
far into the hands of fiends.
Grendel, the foe of God, who had
long troubled the spirits of men
with his crimes, found that
his body could not stand against
the hand grip of that warrior.

how Grendel's mother died:

Suddenly light glittered,
a light brightened within,
as bright and clear as
the candle of the sky.
He looked around the building,
walked around the walls.
He raised the weapon
hard by its hilt--
Beowulf was angry and resolute.
The edge was not useless
to the warrior--he wished
to requite Grendel for
the many attacks he
had made on the Danes,
much more often
than on one occasion,
when he had slain
Hrothgar's guests in their sleep.
Fifteen Danish men
he devoured while they slept,
and carried as many away,
hideous booty. The fierce
champion paid him his reward:
Beowulf saw Grendel in rest,
worn out with fighting,
lifeless from the hard wounds
he had gotten in battle
at Herot. The corpse
split when it suffered
that blow after death--
the hard sword stroke.
Beowulf cut off the head.

how beowulf kills the dragon and dies:

The hero raised his shield
against the dreadful stranger.
Then the coiled thing
sought battle.
The war king drew his sword,
an ancient heirloom
with edges unblunt.
Each of them intended
horror to the other.

Stouthearted stood that war-prince
with his shield upraised,
waited in his war-gear.
The dragon coiled together,
went forth burning,
gliding toward his fate.

His shield protected
life and body
for a shorter time
than the prince had hoped.
That was the first day
he was not granted
glory in battle.
The lord of the Geats
raised his arm,
struck the horrible thing
with his ancestral sword,
but the edge gave way:
that bright sword
bit less on the bone
than the war-king needed.

After that stroke
the cave-guardian
was in a savage mood.
He threw death-fire--
widely sprayed
battle flashes.
The gold-friend of the Geats
wasn't boasting of victory.
His war-sword had failed,
not bitten home
as it should have,
that iron which had
always been trustworthy.
This wasn't a pleasant trip:
that famous king, Beowulf,
would have to leave this earth,
would have, against his will,
to move elsewhere.
(So must every man
give up
these transitory days.)

... skip couple of episodes of dialogs and soliloquies

Then the war-king
remembered past deeds,
struck mightily with his sword
so that it stuck
in the dragon's head;
Naegling, the great sword of Beowulf,
ancient and shining,
broke, failed in battle.
Fate had not granted that
the iron sword would help.

(I've heard that Beowulf's
swing was too strong
for any sword,
overstrained any blade,
anytime he carried
a blood-hardened sword
into battle.)

Then the terrible dragon
a third time rushed,
hot and battle-grim.
He bit Beowulf's neck
with sharp tusks--Beowulf
was wet with life's blood;
blood gushed in waves.

Then, I've heard,
Wiglaf showed courage,
craft and bravery,
as was his nature--he went
not for the thought-seat,
but struck a little lower,
helped his kinsman
though his hand was burned.
The sword, shining
and ornamented,
drove in so that
the fire abated.

Then the king controlled
his senses, drew his
battle knife, bitter
and battle sharp, which
he carried on his mail,
and cut the dragon
through the middle.
The enemy fell--strength
had driven out life;
the two kinsmen, together,
had cut down the enemy.
So should a warrior do.

That was Beowulf's last victory;
his last work in this world.

(website i got this legend from is "http://www.lone-star.net/literature/beowulf/beowulf.html")