There are a lot of different interpretations on what exactly is happening in the last chapters of Grendel, and most of those I found to be misinformed or just plain wrong, and some of those can even be found in respected publications. I had a hard time with figuring it out myself, or at least, I think I figured it out, because the way in which Gardner wrote the last chapter was meant to be deliberately obtuse, to be deliberately confusing, in order to stick in the mind and to linger as a point of contention among the academics he so longed to be respected by.
He uses writer's tricks, to blur the lines together, so that it's sometimes hard to tell who has spoken, or if someone is even speaking at all, to make one doubt whether Grendel is making it up in the stress of the moment, or whether there might actually be something more going on. Reality blurs with illusion and it takes dedication to parse out which is which, or at least, to form a well-thought out opinion on which is which.
I've hardly figured this novel out completely (hell, I opened up a random page earlier and found myself bewildered by what I was reading) and I might be wrong on numerous points, no matter how much time and effort I spent on it. At this point I can only confidently say that all of this is informed by my opinions and knowledge gained by time spent with the book, and that this write-up can only be labeled as conjecture.
Throughout the novel there are various hints and allusions of the thing yet to come: the doom and the death that will give meaning to the life of Grendel.
Retroactively Grendel's life will be given validity by his vanquishing: it is Grendel's death at the hands of a man, that will elevate that man into the status of hero.
We, the readers, know that this will happen. In the cultural zeitgeist, the name of Grendel is inextricably tied to the name of Beowulf, the monster destined to be killed by the hero (that is, until golden-tits Angelina Jolie came along, at least). This is known and one goes into this novel, this story that'll tell the tale from the monster's point of view, expecting some kind of foreboding, some sort of presentiment that will inform Grendel of his inescapable doom. And so when certain things begin to show up our expectations seem rewarded.
Anyone who's read the Beowulf poem knows that the theme of Christianity is inextricably woven into it, and so, I suspect that Gardner needed to somehow weave it into his work too. And he does this in a highly intriguing manner.
Earlier in the novel there's a very special scene, very short, where Grendel gazes on the children who are playing outside in the snow, and he becomes disturbed as he watches them lie down on the ground, moving their arms to create winged figures in the white.
It seems to imply some sort of supernatural foreboding. And there are various little incidents throughout the novel that point to it as well. But it is in chapter 11, when Beowulf-poem and Grendel-novel begin to overlap, that the foreboding becomes undeniable.
Even before Beowulf finally arrives, Grendel is gripped by an excitement that he can not put a name to, and strange, almost senseless, visions have begun to fill him with a restlessness. Later, as he watches Beowulf and his Geat-companions arrive on the coast, he finds himself almost recognizing the man's face, as if it is the face of one he has forgotten in a dream. He is impressed by Beowulf's almost grotesque musculature, and again and again he finds his eyes lingering on the man's shoulders, as if there's something hidden there. He looks at the stranger and begins to have the idea that the man's body is just a disguise, hiding something far more terrible than what it seems to be. This impression is one that returns again and again to Grendel's observant mind as he watches and listens to the meeting of the strange men and those of Hrothgar's court. The man's mouth doesn't seem to move in time with the words, and Grendel fancies he can smell an unpleasant scent, and he's assaulted by strange almost-memories, of twisted roots, and an abyss.
And in the final chapter, when hero and monster have their fatal meeting, some very strange things begin to happen.
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While spying on the men as they talk in the hall, Grendel realizes that the Danes aren't exactly happy that Beowulf and his Geats have come to deal with their resident monster. After all, their priests had been saying that their god would deal with Grendel in time, had been saying it for years, and as for Hrothgar's warrior-class; to be bailed out by warriors not of their clan would be supremely dishonorable. And so out of a strange respect to his acquaintances, but mostly to honour the recently deceased Shaper, and the wisdom that that one unknowingly had taught him, Grendel vows to kill the stranger.
And so, whispering to himself, quietly and patiently, Grendel waits for time to pass and for darkness to fall. He waits until the Geats are the only ones left in the hall, and until all has gone quiet and dark. And then he moves.
Grendel effortlessly bursts through the door that leads to Hrothgar's hall, and gazing on the silent hall and the unmoving forms of men, he thinks that he has caught them unawares, that they have been laid low by drink, and he proceeds to kill and eat a man.
When he reaches for the second sleeping form he, all of a sudden, realizes that that man's eyes are open, and that they had been open all along, that they had been watching him to see what he would do, to see how he would set about his work of violence. The man he has reached for grabs him instead, and even though Grendel tries to get away, the man does not let go. It seems impossible, but Grendel, powerful, powerful Grendel, can not get away. And more than that, it feels like his arm is on fire and so Grendel fixes his gaze on the man and screams in fury.
Then he feels the grip on his arm strengthen and dislocate his shoulder.
It's ironic, of course, that Grendel has been blessed by the Dragon to become impervious to steel, only to have him come to his end in hand to hand combat. But surely, Grendel isn't made from wood or kindling, surely a mere man can not just take an arm off of a genuine monster by simple force alone?
Grendel by the pain is reduced to the here and now, and he becomes hyper-aware of the entirety of the mead-hall, and he notices that the man who his holding him is the stranger, and that his eyes are flickering with light, and that from his back arise fiery wings. He catches himself and does a double-take, but the wings are still there.
Then he shakes his head, reasoning that he can drive out the illusion, reasoning to himself that there is no possibility that something supernatural is going on here.
"The world is what it is and always was. That's our hope, our chance. Yet even in times of catastrophe we people it with tricks. Grendel, Grendel, hold fast to what is true!"
Immediately the stranger twists his arm behind his back and forces him down, and, terrifyingly, the man begins to whisper. And feeling a terrible sense of doom Grendel whispers back at him, to try and drown out the other's words.
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From this point onward, it becomes extremely difficult to parse what is said aloud and what is recited in Grendel's head, what is being said by Beowulf, and what by Grendel. And strangest of all up to a certain point, the two could even be said to be saying the same thing.
To illustrate what I mean take a look; Blue is Beowulf, Red is Grendel.
The above is the way I think it should be read. Grendel is whispering to himself, quoting the dragon as he remembers him speaking of the vagaries of the universe, repeating to himself that all we are is pointless stardust. Then Beowulf speaks, imparting to Grendel some secret as he mentions the cave.
But it could be read differently too:
You could read it in a way that it is Grendel who says the line of the cave, and which would certainly be in character, however, the entire 'Meaningless Swirl' monologue is an ode to meaninglessness, whereas the world is my bone-cave precisely implies dependency and thus meaning. I don't think it is Grendel who says this line. And yet, there is precedent for it, from back when Grendel mentioned his cave, as; the cave my cave is a jealous cave.
But.
It could also be read as if Beowulf is saying all of it. That it is here where the 'Meaningless Swirl' line actually originally comes from, that the dragon has actually plucked it from the future, seeing this moment where Grendel and Beowulf meet, making it retroactively clear to Grendel that this moment could not be avoided.
In this last one, it is precisely that because the dragon has already spoken this line as he heard it would be spoken by Beowulf, that Grendel is repeating the dragon's words at the same time as Beowulf is originally speaking them.
It's madness, and quite frankly, this whole part is a bit of a dirty writer's trick.
But seeing as I think the first picture is most in line with what we know of these characters, I'll continue on from that one.
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"The world is my Bone-Cave, I shall not want."
I pondered over this sentence for quite a while.
The first words that Beowulf chooses to speak to his opposite must be meaningful, after all.
And they are: they are the declaration of his philosophy. The sentence is an amalgamation of two things. The 'I shall not want' is clearly a reference to the Lord's Prayer: The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want.
But 'the world is my Bone cave' is an allusion to what Grendel had said before earlier in the novel itself, when he spoke of his cave as 'the cave my cave is a jealous cave', which also derives from a biblical source: 'the lord your god is a jealous god' (Deuteronomy).
The first line Beowulf imparts to his mortal nemesis is a statement of religion and belief, it is an identifier, either as a way to reveal to Grendel that he, Beowulf, understands Grendel completely, or; that he, Beowulf, is rooted in reality, and that the world itself is his belief and his god.
For the reader, this comes with associative strings attached, and their purpose is twofold. By using the Biblical language, Gardner, via the hero Beowulf, summons up the Christian faith, but then in the same breath removes that explicit tie to Christianity by substituting the object of that devotion as literally worldly, and even more than that: as the sentence only works if we have knowledge of Grendel's 'jealous cave' the sentence then becomes something quite personal to Grendel, and only to Grendel.
At this point, Grendel notes that fire slips out at the corners of Beowulf's mouth as he says:
"As you see it it is, while the seeing lasts, dark nightmare-history, time as coffin;..."
Confirming to Grendel that, indeed, life is meaningless, but then he continues:
"... but where the water was rigid there will be fish, and men will survive on their flesh till spring."
And then he makes it clear to Grendel that he knows him and that he understands him when he says:
"It's coming, my brother. Believe it or not."
Of course, It is not a kinship of the flesh, but rather one of ideas, of thoughts, outlook and philosophy. It is the kinship of students. One pupil of self-actualization speaking to another.
"Though you murder the world, turn plains to stone, transmogrify life into I and it, strong searching roots will crack your cave and rain will cleanse it. The world will burn green, sperm build again. My promise. Time is the mind, the hand that makes (fingers on harpstrings, hero-swords, the acts, the eyes of queens.)"
Beowulf, with this very obtuse way of speaking, states that life, and thus time, is only given relevance by the actions of men. It is as simple as that, Beowulf states that even though Grendel's acts of destruction might continue, the upward march, the desire of life for itself, will always continue. And then he states that he will kill Grendel for it.
Knowing that the end is near Grendel whispers to him that the man only has won by chance; that it's all meaningless. To which Beowulf responds:
"Grendel, Grendel! You make the world by whispers, second by second, are you blind to that? Whether you make it a grave or a garden of roses is not the point.
Feel the wall: is it not hard?"
He proceeds to try and demonstrate the way in which we make an impression on the world, the way in which we make reality exist by giving it our attention. It is the age-old philosophical conundrum of whether if a tree falls in the forest, with no-one around to hear it, whether the sound can be said to be real at all. Touch the wall and it has relevance, and it becomes real. And such too is life. Beowulf hints at the hero's philosophy, where the hero creates his own path, and his own meaning.
But Grendel can not accept it. Though he does understand what Beowulf is saying, he is too fixated on the fact that it could have been different if he had been paying more attention to his surroundings, sure that it was an accident that gave Beowulf the upper hand, and that it could have been vastly different, that the hero, despite all his will and desire to make it all mean something, could still easily have been the one to die. But, the truth is that this didn't happen, and so comes the question: Was it or was it not inevitable? Was it destiny and thus meaningful, or was the very fact that it was an accident that gave Beowulf the upper hand precisely indicative of the meaninglessness of existence, of the absence of design and destiny?
For Grendel the room goes white, and as he stares down he sees that Beowulf has torn his arm off at the shoulder. In terror, desperation and the mindless pain of a wounded animal, he runs out of Hrothgar's hall, leaving the scene of his wounding behind him, while behind him Beowulf stretches his blinding white wings and breathes out fire.
Outside, Grendel sees visions of winged men that light up the night. He chastises himself once more, and again the world is reduced to darkness. He is alone, but he can still hear Beowulf's whispering. He is dying, but he still clings to the belief of meaninglessness, and refutes the hero's arguments. Grendel has a vision of a dark abyss, and a desire to tumble into it.
Then Grendel comes to himself for the last time, wet with blood, and without pain. He finds himself surrounded by the animals he shared his forest with, their mindlessness radiating out from their eyes.
And as he sees his death approach, he wonders at his feeling of joy. "Poor Grendel's had an accident," he whispers. 'So may you all.'
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It's so hard to see how much of this can be taken at face value, and how much is metaphor. One could argue that all the biblical imagery present is a product of the pain and stress of the situation, that Grendel is only seeing illusions, or one can argue that what Grendel sees is the truth of it. One is very tempted when reading this part to explain away the fantastical trappings that the story has, seemingly all of sudden, taken upon itself, but the truth is that there is precedent for the supernatural shenanigans: Grendel himself is revealed to have some sort of power when he screams in rage and is shocked to find that the lake he's standing by has turned to ice. Or for instance that, because of the Dragon's blessing no edge of steel can hurt him.
Either way, it's up to the reader. The book, and especially the last chapter is designed in such a way that multiple explanations are viable. For myself, I believe that one can take most of what happens as real, that Grendel is granted a look behind the veil, so to speak.
For me both the hero and the monster walk the earth as tangible avatars of their philosophies.
Grendel, as he says earlier, embodies the Dragon's idea of absolute waste, absolute destruction, destruction because why not, it's all meaningless anyway; an undeniably nihilistic philosophy.
But Beowulf, as the avatar of meaning, occupies the high ground. He is a vessel of world-altering will made manifest in the trappings of the dominant faith of that age, an agent of heroic self-actualization, clothed in wings of white and with a mouth spewing fire; classic angelical imagery. He might not actually be an angel, but as his philosophy is most beneficent to the one who wields it, the most positive, Gardner chose to let Grendel, and us, see him that way.
Grendel is a brilliant novel. But I do wish Gardner might've made it a bit more clear-cut. As it is, it is impossible to have one all-encompassing explanation that'll take into account all the different elements that the novel has. It's mostly up to each individual reader to make sense of the novel, as there really is enough in its literary make-up that multiple interpretations are possible. This is the point, of course, but I don't have to like it.
thank you for posting this! i have to use this novel in a paper but don't really have the time to read all of it, so thank you for this well throughout summary/analysis/review!
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