Cynewulf
[In the essay that follows, Wilson studies the Christ in detail and claims, in contrast to the conclusion reached by some critical scholarship, that the poem is arguably the work of a single author.]
Since Benjamin Thorpe brought out his edition of The Exeter Book in 1842, most of the scholarship on the material contained in the first 1664 lines of that Old English codex has been centered around two problems: one, the unity and authorship of the three sections into which the manuscript material is divided, and, two, the identity of Cynewulf, whose name appears in runes in the closing lines of the second section. There is still great lack of agreement as to the unity and authorship of the lines, and the identity of the man Cynewulf has never been established nor does it appear at this time likely to be.' I shall not deal here with the identity of Cynewulf; however, I will suggest in my conclusion that, in spite of the number of arguments to the contrary, I feel that there is strong evidence for the unity of the 1664 lines, which conclusion implies an acceptance of a likelihood of singleness of authorship.
The poem occupies folios 8a-32a of The Exeter Book and begins, apparently, in mid-sentence. The manuscript indicates breaks at lines 439 and 866. The breaks are generally accepted as indicating divisions of the material. Cook and Moore stand all but alone in their defense of the unity of the three divisions. One of Cook's most telling arguments is that it is much easier to argue for disunity than for unity. He set up the hypothetical situation of the discovery of the various groups of poems which comprise Tennyson's Maud and pointed out the obvious difficulty of attempting to ascertain unity of authorship of such a body of work.2
As to the identity of the poet, four suggestions have been made: Cenwulf (Cynwulf) of Mercia, a contemporary of Aldhelm, who died in 709; Cynewulf, bishop of Lindisfarne, who died in 782; Cynulf, a clergyman who attended the synod of Cloveshoe in 803; and Cenwulf, abbot of Peters borough, who died in 1014.
Greenfield, in 1953, took what appears to be a significant step in the right direction to solving the questions of theme and unity. He attempted to find the meaning of the poem in its historical theological relationships.3 In this attempt he follows the lead of scholars such as Robertson, Huppe, Lumiansky, and Smithers, in their work on the elegies, and of Irving, Cross, and Tucker on the Caedmonian Exodus. Greenfield works carefully through Part I of Christ, pointing out references therein to the theme of spiritual exile, a theme which has been shown in this study to be central not only to exegetical and patristic tradition before and during the time when the Old English poems were being composed, but also to the Old English poems themselves. Greenfield's work has pointed out perhaps the most important aspect of the religious nature of the poetry, an aspect which I emphasized in the introductory chapter to the elegies: the artistic development of a definite thematic structure. Earlier scholars were loath to consider the poems seriously as artistic accomplishments, seeing unity in them, if unity they saw at all, only in sources and genres. The approach to the poems represented in the work of Greenfield not only gives the poets their long-overdue recognition as artists but also goes directly to the heart of the poems.
The approach I shall take to the poem Christ is largely that suggested by Greenfield; however, I shall carry his suggestions farther than he did. I shall attempt to show that the theme of spiritual exile exists not only in Part I of the poem but that it also forms the central thematic structure for all three parts and in so doing constitutes a strong argument in favor of the unity of the whole. I shall point also to other structural elements such as (1) Christ as the guardian or 'lock', noted by Greenfield, (2) nautical imagery as associated with the exile theme, including the contrast between seafarers and land-dwellers, which structure appeared in the elegies and in Exodus, and (3) word play, particularly on the word sunu, also noted by Greenfield. The presence of these carefully worked out structures in the entire body of the material seems to me strong evidence for its artistic integrity and weighs heavily on the side of those who argue in favor of single authorship.
My only argument with Greenfield is that he did not carry his study far enough to see its relevance to the entire poem.
There are in Part I a number of references to the figure of the exile which Greenfield did not point out. I shall first cite these images and then discuss such related imagic structures as the 'lock' figure, nautical imagery, and word play. The first of such figures appears in a passage beginning at line 22:
Huru we for þearfe þas word sprecað,
ond m […] giað þone þe mon gescop
þæet he ne [.]ete […] ceose weorðan25
cearfulra, þing, þe we in carcerne
sittað sorgende, sunnan wenað,
hwonne us liffrea leoht ontyne.
'Indeed, we in need speak these words
and beseech Him who made man
that He not choose to speak in hate
to us wretched things, we who sit sorrowing
in the prison house, who await the sun,
whence the Lord of life will release to us the
light.'
The exile figure is in the phrase in carcerne 'in the prison house'. Throughout the early Middle Ages we find reference to the world in which man is exiled as a prison or as some other kind of captivity.4 The use of the phrase cearfulra Ping at 25a presents one further interesting possibility. The fact that those waiting in prison are referred to as 'things' suggests that without Christ's saving power they are inanimate, that is, that without the Son they have no life.
Another point to be considered is that most translators read hwonne, 27a, as 'until'.' The word, however, can also mean 'whence', which reading seems to give the lines much greater significance as part of the exile pattern by emphasizing the source of the exiles' salvation. Most important of all, this emphasis calls attention to a pun on the word sunnan, 26b, a pun which is repeated frequently in Part I and also occurs in Parts II and III. Although I shall develop the pun motif separately, the translation of the lines here makes necessary my dealing with this particular pun at this time. That the exiles are in the prison house of the world, locked in the darkness of sin, yearning for the 'sun', cannot fail to mean that they yearn for the Son, the Savior, who, at His Second Advent at the Last Judgment, will free the faithful exiles from death. The Catholic belief that the bodies of the dead will rise at the Last Judgment and that the faithful will receive their reward of eternal paradise is, of course, central to the idea of freeing from death. The image of the hosts of the dead rising at Judgment is an important part of the development of the theme in Part III. The pun at this point is too central to the religious theme to have been anything but deliberate.
The figure reappears at line 50:
Eala sibbe gesihð, sancta Hierusalem,
cynestola cyst, Cristes burglond.
'O vision of peace, holy Jerusalem,
most magnificent of royal thrones, city of
Christ.'
The reference here to Jerusalem suggests the City of God as contrasted with the city of the earth, the distinction made by St. Augustine. The city of the earth is symbolic of man's mortal life, in which he must, as an exile from paradise, seek through faith his return to the City of God. The apostrophe to the holy city is based on the Advent antiphon 0 Hierusalem and follows immediately a passage based on the antiphon 0 Clavis David. The 0 Clavis David passage contains a crux at line 19a, se Pe locan healed, which Greenfield interprets figuratively as a reference to Christ. In his interpretation, Christ, as a member of the line of David, becomes the key who controls the locks on the gates to paradise. The figure of the lock, or more literally, the guardian of the lock, occurs, as I have indicated, throughout the poem. Attention should be called here to the multiple levels of irony in the implication that Christ controls not only the key, or lock, which will open the gates to paradise and the key, or lock, which will open the gates to free the exiles from their earthly prison, but also that He controls the key, or lock, which will free the good pagans from Limbo in the harrowing of hell, and finally, the key, or lock, which will close the gates of hell forever upon the damned. Greenfield's explanation of the images makes clear the poet's development of his theme. The passage containing the lock image, being based on the antiphon 0 Clavis David, is logically followed by a passage based on the O Hierusalem. Since Jerusalem suggests, on the anagogical level, the City of God, the heavenly home which the Christian exiles seek, the sequence of passages implies that it is this holy city to which Christ holds the key and to which He has the power to admit the exiles, who are described in lines 31-32 as waiting in abject plight, bereft of home. The 0 Hierusalem itself supplied the poet the reference to the allegory of earthly exile:
O Hierusalem, civitas Dei summi: leva in circuitu oculos tuos, et vide Dominum tuum, quia jam veniet solvere te a vinculis.
'O, Jerusalem, city of the great God, lift up thine eyes round about, and see thy Lord, for he is coming to loose thee from thy chains.16
The loosing from the chains of bondage also suggests the action of Christ as the key.
Closely following at lines 66ff. is another example of the figure:
Nu is þæt bearn cymen,
awæcned to wyrpe weorcum Ebrea,
bringeð blisse þe, benda onlyseð
niþum genedde. Nearoþearfe conn,
70 hu se earm sceal are gebidan.
'Now the child is come,
born to complete the labors of the Hebrews;
He brings you bliss, He loosens bonds
forged in malice. He understands pressing
need,
how the wretched must await mercy.'
Here again are the wretched exiles, awaiting in the prison house the mercy of God, suffering the pains of sin. Line 68b makes reference to the fact that Christ will now loosen the bonds, a standard figure for the effect of God's mercy upon the exile, as we have seen frequently in the elegies. Note also the verbal correspondence between line 70b and line l b of The Wanderer.
A similar figure occurs in lines 146b-148a:
Nu hie softe þæs
bidon in bendum hwonne beam godes
cwome to cearigum.
'The oppressed have awaited patiently
in their bonds the time when the Child of God
would come.'
The oppressed endure their bonds patiently, awaiting the freeing power of Christ. In a figurative situation of this kind time operates on multiple levels. We have the oppressed Israelites fulfilling their covenant with God; typologically, we have the prefiguring of the condition of the faithful just prior to the Nativity; and, finally, we have the eschatological anticipation of the Second Advent and the Last Judgment. In the Christian context, Christ is the key to the misery of the exile. Once this figure of Christ as the key or guardian of the lock is established, any mention of bonds or of freeing from bonds recalls it. It becomes part of the chain of associated notions which accumulate as the theme develops.
The first of the nautical images to be associated with exile appears in lines 219-23.
Nis ænig nu eorl under lyfte,
secg searoþoncol, to þæs swiðe gleaw
þe þæt asecgan maege sundbuendum,
areccan mid ryhte, hu þe rodera weard
act frymðe genom him to freobearne.
'There is now no man beneath the heavens,
no man cunning or sufficiently wise,
who can say to the ocean-dwellers,
and tell it right, how the guardian of the skies
at the beginning took Himself a lordly Son.'
Recent translators read sundbuendum figuratively, and with validity, as 'mortals' or 'people'; however, for the purposes of my thesis I return to Gollancz's literal 'ocean-dwellers', which reading seems more exactly to the point the poet was trying to make.' The figure is completely unmotivated here and enters the poem with striking suddenness. The lack of motivation and the resulting effect of suddenness may well indicate that the poet felt no need either to prepare for the use of the figure or to explain it in any way, that he could count on his audience to be aware of its significance. Perhaps even more important is the indication of the poet's artistic ability in his use of such deliberate suddenness for effect. The meaning of the word sundbuendum is obviously the same as the meaning utilized by the Exodus poet in his reference to the Israelites as seamen.
Another suggestion of the condition of exile occurs at the very end of the passage based on the 0 Rex Pacifice:
270 … þæt we, tires wone,
a butan ende sculon ermþu dreogan,
butan þu usic þon ofostlicor, ece
dryhten,
æt þam leodsceaþan, lifgende god,
helm alwihta, hreddan wille.
'… that we, deprived of glory,
must endure misery without end
unless You, eternal Lord,
living God, guardian of all living things,
save us in all haste.'
The figure closes a passage of 26 lines built around the image of Christ approaching through formerly locked golden gates to free the world from evil:
þu þisne middangeard milde geblissa
250 þurh ðinne hercyme, hælende Crist,
ond þa gyldnan geatu, þe in geardagum
ful longe ær bilocen stodan.
The image of the weary exiles awaiting Christ is present in the antiphon on which the entire passage is based:
O Rex pacifice, tu ante saecula nate: per
auream egredere portam,
redemptos tuos visita, et eos illuc revoca unde
ruerunt per culpam.
'O King of peace, that wast born before all ages: come by the golden gate, visit them whom thou hast redeemed, and lead them back to the place whence they fell by sin.13
The antiphon implies the Second Advent and in so doing implies the continuation of man in his exile after the scattering at the Ascension. The antiphon recalls man's attention to the Crucifixion and to the fact that it is through Christ's death on the Cross that salvation has become a possibility. This contention is strengthened by the fact that the Crucifixion image occurs in lines 256ff., just preceding the passage under discussion and that line 261b begins a prayer for the salvation of mankind who have existed in exile since that sinful act. The sinful act of the Crucifixion and the subsequent scattering of mankind at the Ascension recall also the sin in the Garden and the expulsion. The two events have parallel significance in early medieval Christian allegory.
The only reference to city-dwellers in the poem occurs in lines 337-47:
Huru þæs biddað burgsittende
þæt ðu þa frofre folcum cyðe,
þinre sylfre sunu. Siþþan we motan
340 anmodlice ealle hyhtan,
nu we on þæt beam foran breostum
stariað.
Geþinga us nu þristum wordum
þæt he us ne læte leng owihte
in þisse deaðdene gedwolan hyran,
ac þæt he usic geferge in fæder rice,
þær we sorglease siþþan motan
wunigan in wuldre mid weoroda god.
'Especially do the city-dwellers pray
that You proclaim, by Your own Son,
comfort to men, so that we may
all with one accord rejoice
when we see the Child on your breast.
Pray for us now most earnestly
that He will never leave us
to live enslaved in this plain of death,
but that He will lead us to the Father's
kingdom,
where we may live in joy forever,
in glory with the God of Hosts.'
The use of the word burgsittende in this context suggests strongly that it is being used in the sense of 'land-dweller'. We have seen in the elegies and in Exodus land-dwellers contrasted with seamen or seafarers. So used, it suggests those who have not committed their lives to the Christian ideal of the hard mortal lot but rather have put their dependence on the false felicity of earthly comfort and pleasure. But the image is used here in an unusual sense. The lines are part of another long passage which turns on the architectural imagery of walls, gates, and locks. The passage is based on the final of the added or monastic "O's", the 0 mundi Domina, which makes direct reference to the passage in Isaiah in which the angel interprets Isaiah's prophetic dream of the wondrous gate eternally locked, through which Christ will come to earth:
"Ic þe mæg secgan þæt soð gewearð
þæt ðas gyldnan gatu giet sume siþe
god sylf wile gæstes mægne
320 gefælsian, fæder ælmihtig,
ond þurh þa fæstan locu foldan neosan,
ond hio þonne æfter him ece stondað
simle singales swa beclysed
þæt nænig oper, nymðe nergend god,
hy æfre ma eft onluceð"
The references to unlocking doors or gates come to a point in the poet's apostrophe to Mary, , u eart Pcet wealldor, line 328a, and the statement that Christ will come to earth through Mary. A second miraculous aspect of the birth is implied in the suggestion that Christ is endowed with a wondrous key with which He will relock the walldoor after Him. It is immediately after this passage that we have the reference to the exiles as city-dwellers. The unusual sense in which the image is used here results in part from the fact that it is part of the poet's apostrophe to the Virgin. The poet describes himself as one of those who have turned away from God. The figure is a deliberate exaggeration; it is the poet's way of humbling himself in prayer before the Virgin. Used thus, it carries forward even more strongly the thematic structure of references to the Christian exile who seeks his way to salvation. The images of the plain of death (the world) and of the Father's kingdom (the City of God) are part of the familiar pattern.
The exile image is present in line 382a:
Eala seo wlitige, weorðmynda full,
heah ond halig, heofoncund þrynes,
380 brade geblissad geond brytenwongas
þa mid ryhte sculon reorderende,
earme eoræware ealle mægene
hergan healice, nu us hælend god
wærfæst onwrah þþt we hine witan
moton.
'Lo, the beautiful, the glorious,
high and holy heavenly Trinity,
widely blessed throughout the plains of earth,
You whom those gifted with speech,
wretched earth-dwellers, should highly praise
with all their might, since the Savior has
faithfully
revealed God to us, that we might know Him.'
The earme eoroware are, of course, the exiles. It will be noted that the poet does not often use the word wracu or wrcec to express the wretched condition of the exile. Neither has he availed himself of the opportunity of making the same kind of word-play which we have seen used so often in the poets of The Wanderer, The Seafarer, and Exodus. The poet's figurative use of words in Christ has been of a more directly allegorical or typological nature. He has, however, used the pun on sunu, and it may be that he used fewer such puns precisely in order to call attention to the central significance of the play on sunu. The first occurrence of this pun at line 26b has already been discussed. Other occurrences are as follows.
Eala earendel, engla beorhtast
105 ofer middangeard monnum sended,
ond soðfæsta sunnan leoma,
torht ofer tunglas, þu tida gehwane
of sylfum þe symle inlihtes!
'O brightest Ray of the angels,
faithful beam of the sun,
sent to men throughout the world,
clear beyond all the stars, You Yourself
will illumine forever.'
It is significant of the artistry of the poet that this pun occurs in the opening lines of the 0 Oriens passage and follows immediately the passage based on the antiphon 0 Virgo Virginum. The Son, the light, issues from the Blessed Virgin. The 0 Oriens antiphon suggests the pun made by the poet:
O Oriens, splendor lucis aeternae, et sol
justitiae: veni,
et illumina sedentes in tenebris et umbra
mortis.
'O Rising Brightness of the Everlasting Light and Sun of Righteousness: come thou and enlighten those who sit in darkness and the shadow of death.19
Not only does the antiphon suggest the pun, but it also makes use of the figure of the exiles and the usual images of darkness, suggesting the prison house of the world.
The lines following immediately afterward give another play on sunu:
Swa þu, god of gode gearo acenned,
110 sunu soðan fæder, swegles in wuldre
butan anginne æfre wære,
swa þec nu for þearfum þin agen
geweorc
bideð þurh byldo, þæt þu þa beorhtan
us
sunnan onsende, ond þe sylf cyme
þæt ??u inleohte þa þe longe ær,
þrosme beþeahte ond in þeostrum her,
sæton sinneahtes; synnum bifealdne
deorc deaþes sceadu dreogan sceoldan.
'As you, God of God, begotten perfect,
Son of the true Father, Light of Light,
have existed forever without beginning,
so now your own handiwork in its distress
beseeches You boldly to send us
the bright sun, and to come Yourself
so that You may bring light to those who
long
have sat here covered with gloom and
darkness,
enfolded in the sin of eternal night,
who have endured the dark shadows of
death.'
The lines obviously continue the petition of the 0 Oriens to the Son for His saving grace. The word-play on sunu structures the entire passage, and, again, we have the image of the darkness of the prison house.
In the Passus occur the following lines:
… þæt me Gabrihel,
heofones heagengel, hælo gebodade.
Sægde soðlice þæt me swegles gæst
leoman onlyhte, sceolde ic lifesþrym
205 geberan, beorhtne sunu, bearn eacen
godes,
torhtes tirfruman.
'Gabriel,
the archangel of heaven, gave me greeting.
He told me truly that the heavenly spirit
would illumine me with radiance, that I
should
bear life's glory, the glorious Son, the child of
Almighty God,
the resplendent prince of glory.'
The lines refer directly to the Son, but the verbal correspondence with passages where the reference was to the solar body makes its connection with the pun all but inevitable.
Following almost immediately in the Passus we find:
100 Emmanuel0 Rex PacificeChristNu þu ealle forlæt
sare sorgceare. Saga ecne þonc
210 mærum meotodes sunu 'þat ic his modor
gewearð.
'You must forsake now all
grevious sorrow. Give eternal thanks
to the great Son of God that I have become
His mother.'
460 Sona wæron gearwe,
hæleð mid hlaford, to þære halgan byrg.
'Soon they were made ready,
the men with the Lord, for the Holy City.'
The image of the Holy City is particularly apt to the exile at this point. It occurs at the point in time when the true meaning of the exile is made apparent by Christ's order to the disciples to disperse and spread His message throughout the lands. The Old Testament exile as interpreted by the church fathers was in one important aspect a prophecy of this very exile which began with the life and death of Jesus. The difference between the conceptions of the exile as expressed in the Old and New Testaments was, of course, that, with the life and ministry of Jesus, the possibility of man's salvation had become a reality, a reality which existed only as a prophecy in the Old Testament. The song of the angels after Christ's ascension continues to emphasize the eschatological motif of the Holy City with its references to Christ's native home, his fœder eþelstoll (516b) and Pcere beorhtan byrg (519a).
The exile image which follows at line 481a and is a part of Christ's order to the disciples gathered at the Ascension establishes the connection between the two aspects of the theme, the Holy City and the Christian exile:
"Gefeoð ge on ferððe! Næfre ic from
hweorfe,
ac ic lufan symle Læste wið eowic,
ond eow meaht giefe ond mid wunige,
awo to ealdre, pæt eow æfre ne bið
480 þurh gife mine godes onsien.
Farað nu geond ealne yrmenne grund,
geond widwegas, weoredum cyðcað."
'"Rejoice in spirit! Never shall I desert you,
but I shall show my love to you continually
and give you strength and live among you
forever and ever, that you, as a result of
my gift, may never be lacking of God.
Go now through all the wide earth,
the far-distant paths, proclaim to men."
In these lines Christ proclaims the final phase of the Christian's exile, a phase which is to end with His Second Advent. These lines anticipate the final section of the poem, which is built on the theme of the Judgment, when man will receive the final and full revelation of the meaning of his life of exile on earth. In the image of the scattering of the disciples on their evangelical mission lies the hope of the world, which will live in the Church and be revealed at the Last Judgment. Whereas, at the Crucifixion, the world lay palled in darkness, at the Ascension we have light and hope. The frequent occurrence of images of whiteness and light in Part II constitutes a significant part of this theme of hope.
There occurs in these lines what appears to be a pun which points up the theological theme. Lines 479b-480, kcet eow cfre ne bio/Iurh gife mine godes onsien, may be translated either 'that you, as a result of my gift, may never be lacking God", or 'that you, as a result of my gift, may never be lacking sustenance'." The significance of the pun is, of course, that God is the sustenance of the Christian; more specifically, that He is the gift of Jesus and His life, and, at the Last Supper, the gift of His body and blood, the sacrament of Holy Communion. This is the very gift that the sufferers in the prison house, an image so prominent in the first section of the poem, have been praying for and awaiting. The images of exile, the gift of Jesus, and the Holy City encompass an entire structure of the life of the Christian who accepts and fulfils his commitment of faith.
The reference to the Holy City at line 516b mentions that Christ has ascended to fceder etelstoll 'the native land of the Father'. In line 519a, the phrase 1bcere beorhtan byrg 'the shining city', occurs, calling attention not only to the figure of the city but also to the light imagery mentioned as a part of the theme of hope in Part II.
The lines describing the joy in heaven after the Ascension and the sad departure of the disciples toward Jerusalem give us both a literal and a figurative level of meaning.
Hyht wæs geniwad,
530 blis in burgum, þurh pæs beornes cyme.
Gesæt sigehremig on þa swiþ'ran hand
ece eadfruma agnum fæder.
Gewitan him ha gongan to Hierusalem
hæleð hygerofe, in þa halgan burg,
geomormode.
'Joy was renewed,
bliss in the cities, by the coming of the Son.
Triumphant, He sat on the right hand
of the true source of joy, His own Father.
Then the valiant men set out toward
Jerusalem,
toward the holy city,
sad in spirit.'
On the literal level, the journey is the actual one, but on the figurative level, the setting out toward Jerusalem signifies the beginning of the final phase of the Christian exile, which is to be terminated in the City of God after the Last Judgment. The reference in line 530 to heaven as burgum indicates the naturalness with which the figure occurs in the context of earthly and heavenly extremes of home.
The only other significant reference to the city figure in Part II is not to the City of God or of earth but to the city of Satan. Such a 'city' was never a part of the conception of St. Augustine, who conceived of the duality of earthly and heavenly cities as the polarities of moral and spiritual existence, but the poet has broadened a universally accepted figure in order to express an entirely new conception of the exile theme. To be sure, the basis of this new expression of man's exile is in the Bible and in exegetical tradition, but the poet has given to the idea a highly artistic treatment, typical of the imaginative manner in which he handles his material. The reference to the city occurs as part of a long passage which must be quoted in full:
Nu sind forcumene ond in cwicsusle
gehynde ond gehæfte, in helle grund
duguþum bidæled, deofla cempan.
Ne meahtan wiþerbrogan wige spowan,
565 wæpna wyrpum, siþþan wuldres cyning,
heofonrices helm, hilde gefremede
wiþ his ealdfeondum anes meahtum,
þæer he of hæfte ahlod huþa mæste
of feonda byrig, folces unrim,
þisne ilcan þreat þe ge her on stariað.
'Now are they overcome and in living
torment,
humbled and bound in the deeps of hell,
deprived of glory, warriors of the devil.
Nor may the adversaries succeed in battle
by casting weapons, because the King of
Glory,
the Ruler of heaven, made war
against His ancient enemies by His single
might,
when He wrested unnumbered folk from
bondage,
from the city of fiends, this very band
you gaze on here, the greatest of spoils.'
The opening three lines of the passage, describing the hopeless condition of the damned in hell, make use of images which resemble somewhat those describing the condition of the exiles in Part I. I submit that this resemblance is exactly what the poet intended and that he meant the resemblance to anticipate a broader development of this new aspect of the exile theme, particularly in Part III. The new aspect is specifically the notion of permanent exile from God's grace as a result of deliberate choice of transient earthly joy instead of the permanent joy promised in the life and ministry of Jesus. This new aspect of the exile is possible only after the earthly ministry of Jesus; therefore, it enters the poem only after the Ascension has put the choice of salvation or damnation squarely up to the Christian. There is now in the thematic structure of the poem not only the earthly exile but also the permanent exile which is hell itself. The figure of the city of the fiends, an obvious contrast to the City of God, makes the point. Following the passage devoted to the development of the contrast comes a rhapsodic summation of the hope motif and with it another reference to man's life as an exile:
… nu monna gehwylc
590(cwic þendan her wunað, geceosan mot.
'… now each man,
while he lives here, must choose.'
The phrase cwic bendan her wunað implies the earthly exile. The choice is directly stated. True, man had exercised free choice in Eden, but never until after the Resurrection and Ascension had the meaning of the choice been so fully and brilliantly clear.
Immediately following this emphasis upon choice comes the first of the poet's uses of the word wrcece in Part II. The use of the word is of particular significance here because it describes not the condition of the earthly exiles but that of the fiends permanently exiled in hell, and, specifically, it describes Satan himself. The lines in which the word occurs are the famous ones in which the poet uses the balanced, internally rhymed line. Such extensive use of rhyme occurs in only one other Old English poem, The Rhyming Poem. The balanced phrases set up and emphasize the choices open to man, one of which, ironically, is iystra wrcece 'the pride of the wretched', line 593b.
… nu monna gehwylc
59" cwic þendan her wunað, geceosan mot
swa helle hienþu swa heofones mærþu,
swa þæt leohte leoht swa ða laþan niht,
swa þrymmes þræce swa þystra wræce,
swa mid yhten dream swa mid
deoflum hream,
swa wite mid wraþum swa wuldor mid
arum,
swa lif swa deaðo, swa him leofre bið
to gefremmanne, þenden flæsc ond gæst
wuniað in worulde.
The passage closes with the hortatory emphasis on the necessity for immediate action, an emphasis which has eschatological overtones. The choice points up again the importance of Christ's ministry to the life of man; it also anticipates the broad development in Part III of the motif of those permanently exiled in hell as a result of their failure to commit themselves to the life of the Christian exile. The commitment motif also recalls the distinction between the seafarer and the land-dweller, which will be suggested in the closing lines of Part II.
The poet then continues to develop, from lines 600-20, the notion of Christ as the deliverer of man from God's original punitive decree as stated at the expulsion from Eden. The lines emphasize sharply the distinction between the Old and the New Law and reemphasize the distinction, pointed out above, between the two conceptions of the exile, the Old Testament as prophetic of the New. Beginning with line 621, the poet recalls the expulsion as the beginning of man's exile and sets up Job as an example of the Old Testament situation. The flashback is important to the development of the theme. In the first place, it puts a specific emphasis upon the exile as a traditional figure for mortal man, and, second, it states specifically the interpretation of the Old Testament situation as prophetic of the New, thus carrying forward the emphasis upon the additional importance of the exile after the Crucifixion, Resurrection, and Ascension. At line 622b occurs a second use of the word wrcece, this time in its usual significance of the hard lot of the earthly exile. God's order of expulsion is stated in the lines
"Ic þec ofer eorðan geworhte, on þære þu
scealt yrm'pum lifgan,
wunian in gewinne ond wræce dreogan."
'"I wrought you on the earth; on it you will
live in want,
dwell in hostility, endure in exile."
Line 633 a again makes use of the word to describe the life of the earthly exile, but in this instance in a pun:
Bi þon giedd awræc lob, swa he cuðe.
'Of this, Job composed a song, as well he
could."
[The 'this' refers to Christ's wish to help the exiles, expressed in the preceding lines.] The verb wrecan means literally 'to utter' or 'to recite', but it is a perfect pun on the word wrcecca or wrecca 'one driven from his own country', 'a wanderer in foreign lands', 'an exile', as we have seen in the discussion of the opening line of The Wanderer.
After the passage based on the 'leaps' of Christ, lines 720ff, there is a hortatory passage warning man to be on guard against the wiles of the devil:
Utan us beorgan þa,
772 þenden we on eorðan eard weardien.
'Let us then defend ourselves
while we keep our home on earth.'
The reference to the necessity to defend oneself while on earth certainly refers to man in the condition of exile, in the theological context.
If we enter the signature passage at line 793b, we will find at 794a a use of the word wrœc to describe the terror of possible damnation, and at line 799a as a reference to the exile of this world.
Ic þæs brogan sceal
geseon synwræce, þæs þe ic soð talge,
þær monig beoð on gemot læded
fore onsyne eces deman.
þonne … cwacað, sprecan repe word
þam þe him ðr in worulde wace meahtan
800þndan … ond … yþast meahtan
frofre findan. þær sceal forht monig
on þam wongstede werig bidan
hwæt him æfter dædum deman wille
wraþra wita. Biþ se … scæcen
eoræan frætwa. … wæs longe
… flodum bilocen, lifwynna dæl,
… on foldan.
'I shall see terror
in the punishments for sins, this I reckon
truthfully;
where many will be led all together
into the sight of the Eternal Judge.
The KEEN will quake when he hears the King
in judgment,
the just Ruler speak just words
to those who obeyed Him but feebly before,
in the world,
when AFFLICTION and DISTRESS might
have most easily
found comfort. There, in that place, many
will await in fear, sad at heart,
what dire punishment will be judged for them
for their deeds. Then will JOY
of earthly goods, OUR portion of life's
pleasures,
all the POSSESSIONS of earth,
long locked in flood WATERS, flee.'
In making this translation I have referred to Gollancz's interpretation of the runes as given in his The Exeter Book. A lengthy discussion of the runes is also to be found in Cook's edition. I have not used Gollancz's translations exclusively, as is apparent, but since his interpretations seem to agree generally with those of other scholars in the field, I have used them when they fit my purpose.
We find the word wrcece used in the signature passage in an unusual sense, to denote terror. Certainly the notion of terror is not foreign to the context of the Last Judgment, but we have not till now seen the poet associate terror with the condition of exile. The implication of terror is particularly apt here, however, when we remember that the exile theme has been shown to be moving through the poem to a climax in the permanent exile of the damned after the Last Judgment has been made. It is this terror of eternal exile from the love of God of which the Christian exile must be constantly aware if he is to avoid it. The phrase in worulde pinpoints the notion of the exile's life on earth, where his choice will anticipate the final choice to be made by the Eternal Judge. Cynewulf consistently uses his signature passages to bring home his theme. Since one aspect of his theme is always eschatological, the climax here at the end of the second section of the poem anticipates the development of the theme of judgment in the third and final section.
Following the signature passage is another hortatory passage in which men are urged to consider the meaning of mortality. Here occurs the final use in Part II of the exile figure.
Forþon ic leofra gehwone læran wille
þæt he ne agæle gæstes þearfe,
ne on gylp geote, þenden god wille
þæt he her in worulde wunian mote,
somed siþian sawel in lice,
820 in þam gasthofe.
'Therefore, I wish to teach each loved one
not to neglect the needs of the spirit
nor pour it forth in boasts, the while that God
wills
that he live here in this world,
journey together, soul and body,
in this inn.'
The phrase in worulde is expanded in this passage by the images of the journey and the inn. Both of these images have been pointed out in numerous references to man's life as an exile, the journey suggesting the apparent endlessness, the inn the impermanence of the earthly dwelling place.
The final images in Part II which bear upon the theme of exile are the nautical images. These images occur in almost the final lines of the section, beginning at line 850. However, there is an image of water at line 806a which is highly significant. It occurs in the signature passage and involves the rune …, generally taken to signify 'sea' or 'water'. The passage also contains an unusual use of the lock image. The juxtaposition of the images is paradoxical. The passage says that man's mortal portion is locked in flood waters. In the first place, we usually associate, in the allegorical tradition, mortal life with the sea, which association creates an apparent redundancy in the implication that man's mortal existence is limited by his mortal existence. Also, the placing of controlling power in man's mortal nature seems to violate the very heart of the thematic structure, which has made Christ the lock or controlling force in human life. How can we reconcile these difficulties? First, there is an irrefutable logic in the implication that mortality controls man's mortal existence. Such a theme is at the heart of the traditional dialogue between body and soul which appears throughout medieval literature. To say that man's spiritual existence is expressed by his mortal life and is therefore to a degree controlled by it is to indulge in the obvious. If this be so, the association of the lock image with the flood waters is explained, but we are left with a confusing unexplained association—that of Christ and the flood waters, via the lock image. The association is to be explained, it seems to me, by the dual nature of Christ and His ministry, the material and the spiritual. It is the poet's insistence that Christ is to be seen as a controlling force in our mortal as well as our spiritual existences, that, in fact, He must control our mortality in order to fulfil His dual nature as the controlling force in the whole man. To the Christian, Christ must control man's earthly exile in order to make possible man's salvation. Christ is the key who will free man from the power of sin and temptation by opening the doors of man's earthly prison, just as He is the key who will eventually open to man the gates to paradise or to hell. Thus, man is controlled not only by his mortality, or perhaps not really by his mortality at all, in the ultimate sense, but by the power of the dual nature of Christ as a recognized part of his mortal existence. Seen in this light, there is a startling subtlety to the statement that our allotted portion of life's joy has long been locked in the flood waters of our mortal existence. Such a theme is intensified by the sense of the impending end added by the eschatological images.
The image is even further intensified by its suggestion of an unrealized power in the hold over man of the goods and glories of the world. It suggests perhaps a depth of man's commitment to these pleasures which will not be realized or admitted until too late, until the admission is forced upon man at the Last Judgment. The image of the flood-lock recalls the treasures of the Egyptians which were dashed forever in the depths of the Red Sea, locked in death forever by the power of God in the depths of the Egyptians' worldly pursuits, but which floated to the surface to be reclaimed as God's true spiritual goods by the Israelites on the far shore of their commitment to their exile, which they had accepted as their part in the covenant made between God and Abraham.
The image of flood waters takes on even more significance when, just 43 lines later, we find the lengthy elaboration of man's exile as a sea voyage:
850 Nu is þon gelic swa we on laguflode
ofer cald wæter ceolum liðan
geond sidne sæ, sundhengestum,
flodwudu fergen. Is þæt frecne stream
yða ofermæta þe we her on lacað
geond þas wacan woruld, windge holmas
ofer deop gelad. Wæs se drohtað strong
ærþon we to londe geliden hæfdon
ofer hreone hrycg. þa us help bicwom,
þæt us to hælo hyþe gelædde,
860 godes gæstsunu, ond us giefe sealde
pæt we oncnawan magnun ofer ceoles bord
hwær we sælan sceolon sundhengestas,
ealde yðmearas, anrum fæste.
Utan us to þære hyþe hyht staþelian,
ða us gerymde rodera waldend,
halge on heahþu, þa he heofonum astag.
'Now it is most like as if we fare in ships
over the flood, sail in sea-steeds over the cold
water, far over the flood paths. It is a perilous
stream of immeasurable waves over which we
toss
here in this feeble world, led over the deep,
the windy expanse of sea. The way was
difficult before
we were brought to land over the savage
ridges of
wave. Then help came to us, God's Spirit-Son,
and
gave to us grace that we on ship-board might
know
where we should moor fast with anchors the
sea-steeds,
the ancient wave-horses. Let us fix our hope
to this
haven which the Master of the skies opened to
us,
holiness on high, when He rose to heaven.'
The images of the ship and sea and sailor are all familiar to the reader of Old English religious poetry. The four motifs which I mentioned at the beginning of the discussion of this section of the poem were those of exile, Christ as the lock, nautical imagery, and wordplay. All of these motifs are brought to a climactic clusterpoint in these final lines of Part II. The sea journey is the exile. The association of Christ, the lock, with water imagery was forcefully made in the signature passage, which association is recalled here in the nautical imagery. The word-play has centered on sunu, which is tied in with the reference to the Spirit-Son. The final words of the section are a petition that all Christians might find hope in the Son. The artistic power of the passage speaks eloquently for itself.
It should be noted that the elegiac tone in these lines is almost exactly the tone of the sea passages in The Wanderer and The Seafarer. It is such similarity of tone that has led to much of the speculation concerning influence of one poem or poet upon another. However, if what I have been suggesting here about the nature of Old English poetry and the relationship between theme and imagic pattern is true, it seems highly likely that the influence is not so much that of poems or poets upon each other as that of the entire medieval background of patristic writings and exegesis upon the Old English poetic tradition in its entirety.
The final section of the poem is 797 lines in length, almost as long as Parts I and 11 combined. In it we find all the thematic motifs which made up the structure of the earlier parts except that of nautical imagery. The image of the exile appears more than 20 times, making use toward the end of the poem of the inn house figure. This number of appearances is greater than in the first two parts combined, and in Part III it takes on a new and significant aspect. The figure of Christ as the lock comes to a meaningful climax in Part III, and the play on the word sunu continues throughout. Finally, we shall see a significant pattern of use of the word wrcec or its derivatives. I shall comment only generally on the images of light and dark, which the poet uses to support the thematic patterns of God's glory and man's sin and the contrast between salvation and damnation in the Last Judgment. The disappearance of the nautical imagery is consonant with the thematic development. The first two sections of the poem have turned upon the contrast between those men who accept their roles as Christian exiles (seafarers) and those who knowingly reject such a role (land-dwellers), but now that the theme of contrast is to be resolved, the nautical imagery is no longer apropos.
The change in significance of the exile theme is the most important thematic development of Part III. Two new meanings of exile become apparent. First, as has been anticipated, the notion of exile moves in time and in moral suggestion from the literal, tropological, and allegorical levels to the specifically anagogical; second, exile becomes associated with Christ's acceptance of His earthly ministry. We shall see how these changes in the suggestion of the images bring to a conclusion the theme of exile in the poem as a whole.
The central figure of the exile enters the third section at line 956 and here establishes its anagogical use:
þær magen werge monna cynnes
wornum hweorfað on widne leg,
þa þær cwice meteð cwelmende fyr,
sume up, sume niþper, ældes fulle.
960þonne bið untweo þwt þær Adames
cyn, cearena full, cwiþeð gesarad.
'Then the great cursed horde of mankind
will be turned forth to wander here and
there
in spreading flame, in crowds of men,
where the living will meet engulfing fire.
Then it will certainly come to pass that
Adam's
kin, full of sorrow, will lament, afflicted.'
Before discussing the exile figure, we should note the pun on the word mcegen. Although the literal meaning in context is probably 'horde' or 'host', the word carries another denotation, 'force', which serves a double meaning in this syntactic slot. The word 'force' can denote a body of men, but it can also mean power or capacity. At the Last Judgment, the power of man to pervert good to evil will get its just due by being exiled into eternal damnation. Here, we have the shift in the use of exile to suggest the permanent exile from God's love. The exile motif is strengthened by the reference to man as the kin of Adam, the first exile, and to the notion of wandering implied in the construction wornum hweorfað … sume up, sume niper, here an eternal wandering the paths of exile in hell, from which there is no hope of salvation. The poet has brought together here the cluster of suggestions in order to make the point of the thematic development which will dominate Part III.
Lines 1298-99 continue the emphasis on wandering:
þær hi ascamode, scondum gedreahte,
swiciað on swiman.
'There they, ashamed, afflicted with disgrace,
wander giddily.'
It is to be noted that the damned wander 'giddily', that is to say, aimlessly, hopelessly, which was, ironically, the condition of man before the First Advent.
The following lines are part of a long passage describing the coming of Christ to the Judgment:
1040 Micel ariseð
dryhtfolc to dome, siþþan deaþes bend
toleseð liffruma. Lyft bið onbærned,
hreosað heofonsteorran, hypað wide
gifre glede, gæstas hweorfað
on ecne eard.
'A great multitude
will arise to judgment, after the bonds of
death
have been loosed by the Author of Life. The
heavens will be kindled
the stars of heaven will fall, the greedy flame
will lay wide waste, spirits will return to
their eternal home.'
The two images important to the exile pattern here are those of bonds and of the eternal home. The notion that the exile is bound to the mortal hardships of his path is here given its ultimate significance in the stated release from earthly bonds, and, further, by the assured entry into some form of eternity. The loosing from bonds and the opening for the faithful of the way to the City of God recalls directly the function of Christ as the key or lock. The release through and from death is, of course, the necessary step in the progress toward the eternal reward. The association of bonds with exile is also to be recalled in the elegies and in Exodus.
In the context of the Judgment, we have, at line 1075, a reference to the earthly home:
Wile fæder eahtan
hu gesunde suna sawle bringen
1075 of þam eðle, þe hi on lifdon.
'The Father will judge
how, all sound, His sons will bring their
souls
from the home where they have lived.'
The eðle in which the sons have lived is certainly the earth on which they have endured their mortal exile. The word shares the meaning here, also, of the heavenly home, the goal of exile.
The increasing complexity of levels of meaning on which the exile figure is used in Part III is exemplified by the poet's bringing into the thematic motif all the image structures which have appeared in the poem. That these figures are brought deliberately into the exile theme indicates the primacy of the theme to the poet's conception of his structure. A passage beginning at line 1255 introduces the lock image:
Đonne hi þy geornor gode þonciað
blædes ond blissa þe hy bu geseoð
þæt he hy generede from niðcwale
ond eac forgeaf ece dreamas;
bið him hel bilocen, heofonrice agiefen.
'Then they will the more eagerly thank God
for the blessings and the gladness when they
see that He both
delivered them from hateful torment
and also gave to them eternal joys;
to them hell will be locked, heaven's kingdom
given.'
The lines come at the end of the passage describing the three signs which will manifest to the blessed their state of grace. The signs will tell them that they are saved from the torments of the damned because they have fulfilled their obligations to God and man. The door to hell is locked to them; they will not enter there.
The first use of the word wrcec in part III occurs at line 1271a.
An is,þra þæt hy him yrmpa to fela,
grim helle fyr, gearo to wite
1270 ondweard seoð, on þam hi awo sculon,
wræc winnende, wærgðu dreogan.
'One of these is that they will see before them
too many miseries, grim hell fire ready to
torment them,
in which they will forever endure damnation,
suffering wretchedly.'
The word is a pun here, as it is on numerous occasions in such a context. It means both 'exile' and 'wretchedness'. The lines describe the first of the three sources of torment for the damned. Being described here is the realization of the damned that they have earned permanent exile from God's grace. The play on wrcec fits meaning perfectly.
The following lines close the long passage which describes the sorrows of those rejected from salvation:
Ne þæt ænig mæg oþrum gesecgan
mid hu micle elne æghwylc wille
þurh ealle list lifes tiligan,
feores forhtlice, forð aðolian,
1320 synrust þwean ond hine sylfne þrean,
ond þæt wom ærran wunde hælan,
þone lytlan fyrst þe her lifes sy,
þæt he mæge fore eagum eorðbuendra
unscomiende eðles mid monnum
brucan bysmerleas, þendan bu somod
lic ond sawle lifgan mote.
'No one can tell another
with what great zeal each desires,
desperately, by means of any art, to obtain
life,
to wash out the foulness of sin,
to endure, and to chasten himself,
and thereby to heal the wound of former evil,
during the little space of life that is here,
so that he may, before the eyes of the earth-
dwellers,
unshamedly have blameless enjoyment
of his home among men, while
both body and soul abide together.'
The lines contain three specific suggestions of the exile theme. First, the eschatological suggestion of line 1322 emphasizes the need to prepare while there is time. Second, the eorobuendra of line 1323 are the land-dwellers who are always contrasted with the truly committed Christian exile as seafarer. Third, the body-and-soul-together motif is hortatory, suggesting the impermanence of the mortal state, bendan bu somod / lic ond sawle lifgan mote. Another point of interest in these lines is in the suggestion that the true Christian appears blameless in the eyes of men. At first there seems something distastefully sanctimonious in the idea, but the lines perhaps suggest the Augustinian contrast between enjoyment and use. Enjoyment of a thing, says St. Augustine, for its own sake is evil. The only true enjoyment we have in a particular thing, he says, is in making use of it to strive for a higher happiness. It is this state of true enjoyment that the Christian must attempt to present to his fellow man if he is to live as an example of true Christian love and commitment.
Beginning at line 1379 we have God's anticipated speech to sinners at the Judgment, in which He recalls the expulsion from the Garden in lines 1403ff.:
ða þu of þan gefean fremde wurde,
feondum to willan feor aworpen.
Neorxnawonges wlite nyde sceoldes
agiefen geomormod, gæsta eþel,
earg ond unrot, eallum bidæled
dugeþum ond dreamum, ond þa
bidrifen wurde
on þas þeostran weoruld, þær þu
polades siþþan
1410 mægenearfeþu micle stunde,
sar ond swar gewin ond sweartne deað.
'Then you became alien to that gladness,
to the delight of fiends, cast afar out.
You then sadly but assuredly gave up
the perfection of paradise, the home of the
spirit,
deprived of all blessings and joys,
wretched and sorrowful; and then were you
driven
into this dark world where you have suffered
since great and enduring hardship,
sorrow and grief and swarthy death.'
Traditionally in patristic writing the expulsion was the beginning of man's exile, an interpretation which became more strongly entrenched during the Middle Ages, as witness the many references to fallen man as 'the race of Adam'. The phrase occurs numerous times in both Christ and Exodus. The above passage contains many images associated with the exile theme: the loss of paradise, the dark world into which the wretched one is cast, the sufferings and hardships, the necessity of death. The Old Testament emphasis on suffering is to be noted, an emphasis which was to be alleviated by the birth of Christ and His ministry.
The concluding lines of God's anticipated address to the sinful ones are
"Eall ge þæt me dydan,
to hynþum heofoncyninge. þæas ge sceolon
hearde adreogan
wite to widan ealdre, wræc mid deoflum
geþolian."
' "All this you did to Me,
in contempt of the King of Heaven. For that
you will forever
suffer hard punishment, endure exile with the
devils." '
In the lines, we hear Christ speaking through God and giving the Christian culmination to the expulsion by carrying it through the Second Advent. This conception of the exile theme will develop into the great recapitulation scene of the finale.
The image of the inn house enters the exile theme at line 1535:
1530 Swapeð sigemece mid pære swiðran hond
þæt on þæt deope dæl deofol gefeallað
in sweartne leg, synfulra here
under foldan sceat, fæge gæstas
on wraþra wic, womfulra scolu
werge to forwyrde on witehus,
deaðsele deofles.
'He will sweep with the victory mace in
His right hand
the devils tumbling into the deep pit,
into swarthy flame, the horde of sinful
fated spirits under the place of sepulchre,
into the den of evil ones, howling,
damned to perdition in the house of
torment,
the death-hall of the devil.'
The house image recalls similar figures, such as gcesthofe (820a) and carcerne (25b), figures which are used traditionally to indicate earthly exile and to emphasize the transient and oppressive character of mortality. The word witehus operates on a highly ironic level, carrying over from life into death the suffering of the unfaithful, suggesting that for the unfaithful there is no end to exile. These same notions are repeated over and over again in the concluding lines of Part III. Line 1617 says specifically that on the Day of Judgment the unfaithful will from his scyppende ascyred weordan. The image of hell as a house appears at 1603b, susla hus, at 1624a, helle biluced / morberhusa mwst, and at 1627b, Ptet is dreamleas hus. At line 1639, heaven is called se ekel Pe no geendad weorbee, stating that heaven will be the end of exile for the faithful.
The motif of the ministry of Christ as part of the exile pattern of Part III finds its most significant statement beginning at line 1420b:
1420 Wearð ic ana geboren
folcum to frofre. Mec mon folmum
biwond,
biþeahte mid þearfan wædum, ond mec þa
on þeostre alegde
biwundenne mid wonnum claþum. Hwæt,
ic þæt for worulde geþolade!
Lytel þuhte ic leoda bearnum, læg ic
on heardum stane,
cildgeong on crybbe. Mid þy ic þe
wolde cwealm afyrran,
hat helle bealu, þæt þu moste halig scinan
eadig on þam ecan life, forðon ic þæt
earfeþe wonn.
Næs me for mode, ac ic on
magugeoguðe
yrmþu geæafnde, arleas licsar,
þæt ic þurh þa wære þe gelic.
'I was born alone,
as a comfort to men. They wrapped me with
their hands
in wretched cloths, in paupers' rags, and laid
me in darkness.
This I suffered for the world!
Men thought little of me; I lay on hard stone,
a baby in a crib. By means of this,
because I suffered this degredation, I saved
you from death,
from the depravity of hot hell, so that you
might shine most holy,
happy in eternal life.
It was not because of pride, just so I could
be like you,
that I, a youth, bore this disgrace,
the misery of death.'
The words of the passage are highly suggestive of mortality and suffering, words such as biwond, biwundenne, Peostre, gebolade, gecefnde, arleas, licsar. That God should describe His coming to earth in terms suggesting the mortal condition is orthodox theologically, but in the context of the poetic structure the meanings recall the exiled condition of man. God seems to be saying here that He will suffer exile Himself, exile from His own bliss, in order to be a man, not just as a meaningless act of pride, but as an act of redemption. The passage continues for another 34 lines in words that liken the body of Christ to the body of mortal man and emphasize man's mistreatment of Christ during His exile on earth.
This passage recalls a shorter one at lines 1171ff. describing the life of Christ on earth:
… þær he earfeþu
geþolade fore þearfe þeodbuendra,
laðlicne deað leodum to helpe.
' … where He bore
suffering, loathsome death, to help man,
for the profit of earth's inhabitants.'
Words either identical with those of the later passage or having similar meaning pinpoint the motif of mortal suffering, degradation, and death: earfebu, ge, olade, laalicne. The lines add to the significance of God's life as man and His suffering as a man for the sake of man.
A third passage, at lines 1495-96, carry the theme farther:
Ic wæs on worulde wædla þæt þu wurde
welig in heofonum,
earm ic wæs on eðle þinum þæt þu wurde
eadig on minum.
'I was poor in this world so you could be rich
in heaven,
I was wretched in your home so you could be
happy in mine.'
The balanced antitheses sharpen the impact of the ironic message of God's voluntary suffering.
It seems to me that this new aspect of the exile theme illustrates the poet's deftness in adding complexity to his theme as he approaches the climax of the poem. The final irony of the human situation, as has been pointed out elsewhere, is that this man who came and suffered for men will be the one to return and judge man's dedication to His example at the Last Judgment.
There are three instances in Part III of the poem where the play on sunu has been used to sharpen the theme. The first instance occurs at line 900:
þonne semninga on Syne beorg
900 supaneastan sunnan leoma
cymeð of scyppende scynan leohtor
þonne hit men mægen modum ahycgan,
beorhte blican, þonne bearn godes
þurh heofona gehleodu hider oðyweð.
'Then suddenly on Mount Sion
there will come from the southeast
a sunbeam from the Creator, shining more
brightly
than man can imagine,
gleaming brightly, when the Son of God
will appear through the vault of the heavens.'
The phrase sunnan leoma appeared several times in the first two sections of the poem, and in each instance it was shown that a significant pun on sunu was almost certainly intended. The fact that the sunbeam in the above passage comes from the Creator and shines more brightly than man can imagine strengthens the probability of the pun, particularly since the association of light with God's truth is a universal symbolic significance. The final lines of the passage state explicitly that this sunbeam will appear when the Son appears in the heavens at the Last Judgment. One more point might be made concerning the passage. According to St. Augustine, it was traditional to associate Mt. Sion with contemplation.12 The idea of contemplation is certainly to be associated with the Last Judgment, at which time the universal intelligence is to be seen in its final glory.
The following lines present a particularly difficult use of the figure:
þæs he eftlean wile
1100 þurh eorneste ealles gemonian,
ðonne sio reade rod ofer ealle
swegle scineð on þære sunnan gyld.
'For that He will
certainly exact a stern recompense,
when the red rood shines over all
in the heavens in place of the sun.'
On the literal level the meaning is clear. At the Last Judgment, the Cross will shine over the world in place of the sun; the spirit will replace the material source of light or life. However, if the pun on sunnan is here, then it would seem that the rood is replacing the Son at the Last Judgment. Such a reading, of course, clashes with the usual sense we associate with the biblical narrative. The figurative sense of the lines, however, admits a wider possibility of interpretation. If the poet here means to elevate the Cross and the Passion to an anagogical level of importance, in effect of higher importance than that of the tropological level of the Son Himself as man, he in effect places the act of His Passion at the very heart of the meaning of Judgment. Such an interpretation seems to me theologically defensible. Although Christ's life and ministry were important as such, the central meaning of His earthly existence lies in His Passion and Resurrection. The great symbol involved in these acts, of course, is the Cross, and the acts themselves proved His divine nature. The Passion and the Resurrection, as discussed earlier, placed squarely upon the shoulders of man the responsibility for his own salvation, which, before Christ, had been impossible. Hence, the centrality of the Rood to the meaning of the Last Judgment.
There is also in the passage an interesting play on the word gyld, at line 1102b. Gild, of which gyld is a variant form, has a number of meanings, among which are 'a tribute', 'a substitution', 'a visible object of worship', 'a retribution'. It seems to me that all of these ideas work in the line. The notion of tribute, in the sense of veneration, is certainly associated with both Christ and the Cross, and the idea of substitution is emphasized in standard translations, such as those of Gollancz and R. K. Gordon.13 The 'visible object of worship', however, is literally to be associated more with the Cross than with Christ, since an object suggests an inanimate thing. The line could be translated 'in place of the body of the sun'. The notions of veneration and retribution seem to go together to form an inviting ironic possibility in the situation of man standing before the throne of Judgment.
There can be little question of the significance of lines 1132b-33a, which describe the death on the Cross:
Sunne wearð adwæsced,
þream aþrysmed.
'The sun was darkened,
stifled by sufferings.'
In these lines the spiritual and physical conditions of man and earth are beautifully brought together. There is a possible difficulty in the lines in the suggestion that the life of Christ was stifled in His death. I submit that the lines ironically suggest the attitude of mind of or the effect on the lives of those responsible for the Crucifixion, the ironic tragedy of which is that it will prove their undoing rather than the undoing of Christ. In fact, the irony is even greater than this, since instead of undoing Christ's influence they have provided Him with the only means of proving His divinity—the Resurrection. It is the resurrected Christ who will appear at the Last Judgment to condemn those and all other sinners to the eternal exile of hell.
It is significant that at the end of this section describing the effect on creation of the Crucifixion we have the all-important repetition of the image of Christ as the stone, with which the fragmentary opening begins. The lines recall the Old Testament prophecy
1190 þæt æt ærestan
foreþoncle men from fruman worulde
þurh wis gewit, witgan dryhtnes,
halge higegleawe, hæleþum sægdon,
oft, nales æene, ymb þæt æþle bearn,
ðæt se earcnanstan eallum sceolde
to hleo ond to hroper hæleþa cynne
weorðan in worulde, wuldres agend.
eades ordfruma, þurh þa þæelan cwenn.
'That in the beginning
wise, holy, and high-minded sages,
men of the Lord, told men
more than once, that the noble child,
the precious stone, would come for all,
would come through the noble queen,
a refuge and a comfort to mankind,
a wondrous lord, an origin of blessedness.'
Here is the blessed stone which the builders would reject from the wall but which would prove to be the cornerstone of the true temple. The prophecy is also a significant structural element in the poem if we recall a similar passage in the first section, beginning with line 60.
Only the figure of the lock remains to be discussed in any detail. The use of the image at line 1259a has already been noted, where hell is locked at the Judgment. There is another use of the figure at line 1055a, in the long passage which begins at 1040, describing the laying waste of the world after Christ has loosed men from the bonds of death:
Ne bið þær wiht forholen
monna gehygda, ac se mære dæg
1055 hreþerlocena hord, heortan geþohtas,
ealle ætyweð.
'Not one bit of man's pride
will be concealed on that great day,
but all of the breast-locked horde of man's
thoughts
will be revealed.'
In this context, it seems reasonable to insist on a literal translation of hreberlocena. Merely a dozen lines above we have had the use of the bond image, with Christ, as the key, loosing the bonds. It is usual to think of man's revealing his deepest locked secrets on the final day. The image of the lock and key fits the entire passage.
The final images of the lock occur, significantly, in the closing lines of the poem:
Earm bið se þe wile
firenum gewyrcan, þæt he fah scyle
from his scyppende ascyred weorðan
æt domdæge to deaðe niþer,
under helle cinn in þæt hate fyr,
1620 under liges locan, þær hy leomu ræcað
to bindenne ond to bearnenne
ond to swingenne synna to wite.
Đðonne halig gaæst helle biluceð,
morþerhusa maæst, þurh meaht godes,
fyres fulle ond feonra here,
cyninges worde.
'He who desires to sin
will be helpless; the guilty will
at the Day of Doom be cut away
from his Creator into deep death,
shut into the race of hell in hot fire,
locked in flame, his limbs stretched
to be bound, to be burned,
to be scourged in punishment for sin.
Then will the Holy Ghost lock up hell,
the greatest of murder houses, by the might of
God, the word of the King
full of fire and hordes of fiends.'
The final act in dealing with the unfaithful will be the consigning of them to their permanent exile in hell. The door will be locked forever upon them. Here, for the first time in the poem, it is the Holy Ghost who performs the act of locking. That the Holy Spirit, the symbol of the consummate strength of the Holy Trinity, coexistent with the Father and the Son, should perform the final act of locking the gates of hell upon the damned is a fitting climax to the poem. Just as baptism in the name of the Holy Ghost can be made only after the Son is manifest, so damnation at Judgment.
There is one other interesting point in the passage. The word leomu, line 1620b, bears what may be a significant resemblance to leoma, a word which is used several times, at lines 106b, 696b, and 900b in the phrase sunnan leoma, and at 234a in the phrase leoma leohtade, in connection with the Son as a beam of light. If the pun is intended, it has a peculiar richness in this context of the damned locked forever in hell, since rœcað can be translated 'they will reach'. Here, for a moment in the description of the condition of the damned we are reminded of the possibility of their having reached for the Lord, as, perhaps, they would now, had they the opportunity once again. But then follow the resounding parallel phrases to bindenne, ond to bearnenne / ond to swingenne, and the fleeting memory is lost in the swarthy smoke and misery of hell.
As I said at the beginning, the pattern of light and dark imagery pervades the entire section with its obvious contrast between the darkness of sin and the hope of grace. To attempt to deal with these images in detail would take as much space as I have devoted to the third section in its entirely.
In emphasizing the pattern of images relating to Christian exile, including the associated figures of seafarers, land-dwellers, nautical images, locks, keys, stones, inn houses, isolation generally, and puns, I have not meant to imply that I have developed the only reasonable way to read the poem Christ. I have tried to show, since these image patterns play an important part in what many scholars still regard as three separate poems, that there may be more reason than hitherto recognized for considering the material as a unit and thereby possibly by a single author, Cynewulf.
Themes of medieval poems tend to be statements of general and universally held attitudes, didactic, if you like. This is so perhaps because the period was one in which there was a wider unity of attitude than exists today concerning those things closest to the soul of man. This is not to say that there were not those who questioned deeply or even blatantly defied certain practices or prejudices of the time; it is to say that even such divergent types as Wyclif, Chaucer's Miller, or the irrepressible Sir Thomas Malory would probably never have considered the possibility of denying eternal verities. Modern man is much the same, except that modern man has shifted his notion of what constitutes eternal verities, via mass media and his mobility, from faith in a relevant future to faith in an immediacy, in which immediacy his most profound notion of unity seems to be his deceptive public stance that he will have none of it. Underneath is the same yearning for peace and stability but translated into a new sort of blatant defiance, into an individuality which, since it denies the individual, becomes not stability but a desperate clinging to the false felicity of earthly brotherhood.
Medieval poems usually found their themes, especially if they were religious poems, in patristic writing and exegesis, particularly among the great store of homilies and sermons. Since the poetry dealt with here has been religious poetry and since the sources of the poems are generally agreed upon as found in the religious writing of the period, there can be little doubt, it would follow, that their themes are religious. The point being made is that in the poetry of the early Middle Ages careful study is sure to discover many traditional image patterns and motifs which fill out and give strength to the more inclusive general themes of the poems. These images have been used by the poet to provide the details with which he makes his poem realistic and more complex. In fact, such details are the very stuff of his art, his realism, a fact which is so in any age. The medieval poet, after all, is an artist in the same way that a poet of the twentieth or any other century is an artist, a fact generally overlooked by scholars and critics who are willing to take the intellectual short-cut of dismissing the art of an earlier age as 'primitive' or 'crude' or both. We must remember that the pejorative sense of the word 'primitive' is a product of our culture. The Beowulf-poet, the poet of the Old English elegies, Caedmon, Cynewulf, the Pearl-poet, Chaucer, Malory, Shakespeare have all suffered from this kind of critical laziness. If the Old English poet had not been a competent artist, his poems would have been no more than paraphrases of the Scripture or the homilies, or copies of the saints' lives which served as their sources, but it is apparent that they are much more. Without the figure of the wanderer or the seafarer from the background of Germanic comitatus culture, the great religious impact of the poems which have been given the names of these figures might well have been lost, had the poems ever been written, but the presence of the figure cannot be used to argue against the religious theme. That the poems exist and are still read today is evidence not so much of the diligence of teachers as to the accomplishment of the poet-artists who created the symbolic figures from the popular cultural types. Such statements should not need the saying, and if we were speaking of poetry of a later age, they would not; however, of early medieval poetry such statements cannot be made often or loud enough. The work of the scholars and critics mentioned here is opening an entirely new aspect of the relationship between a writer, his time, his message, and his reader.
Notes
1 See, for instance, Moritz Trautmann, "Der sogenannte Crist", Anglia, XVIII (1896), 382-388; F. A. Blackburn, "Is the 'Christ' of Cynewulf a Single Poem?", Anglia, XIX (1897), 88-98; M. Bentinck Smith, "Old English Christian Poetry", CHEL (New York, 1907); Albert S. Cook (ed.), The Christ of Cynewulf (Boston, 1909); G. H. Gerould, "Studies in the Christ", Engl. Stud., XLI (1910), 1-19; Samuel Moore, "The Old English Christ: Is It a Unit?", [Journal of English and Germanic Philology], XIV (1915), 550-567; Edward Burgert, The Dependence of Part I of Cynewulf's Christ on the Antiphonary (Washington, D.C., 1921); E. E. Wardale, Chapters on Old English Literature (London, 1935), pp. 150ff; Br. Augustine Philip, "The Exeter Scribe and the Unity of the Christ", [Publications of the Modern Language Association of America], LV (1940), 903-909; Charles W. Kennedy, The Earliest English Poetry (New York, 1943), pp. 198ff, esp. 220-221; Karl Mildenberger, "Unity of Cynewulf's Christ in the Light of Iconography", Spec., XXIII (1948), 426-432; Claes Schaar, Critical Studies in the Cynewulf Group (Lund, 1949); Kenneth Sisam, "Cynewulf and His Poetry", Studies in the History of Old English Literature (Oxford, 1953); J. J. Campbell, The Advent Lyrics of the Exeter Book (Princeton, 1959); Stanley B. Greenfield, A Critical History of Old English Literature (New York, 1965), p. 124; C. L. Wrenn, A Study of Old English Literature (London, 1967), pp. 123ff, esp. 126; Robert B. Burlin, The Old English Advent: A Typological Commentary (New Haven, 1968), among others.
2 See Cook's edition, pp. lxxii-lxxiii.
3 Greenfield, "The Theme of Spiritual Exile in Christ I", PQ, XXXII (1953), 321-328.
4 See, for instance, Gregory's likening of life to a dungeon in the Dialogues, p. 190. See also The Pulpit Commentary, I, 480-481, and The Expositor's Bible, I, 378, where the imprisonment of Joseph's brothers is construed as God's trial of man's faith. See also St. John Chrysostum, Homilies on the Acts of the Apostles and the Epistle to the Romans, in Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, XI, 430, where mortal life is construed as captivity to the law of sin.
5 See, for instance, Gollancz, The Exeter Book, Pt. I, p. 5, and R. K. Gordon, Anglo-Saxon Poetry, p. 148.
6 Cook's edition, pp. 72, 81.
7 Campbell, p. 62; Burlin, p. 128; Gollancz, The Exeter Book, p. 16.
8 Cook's edition, pp. 72, 100.
9 Cook's edition, pp. 71, 88.
10 "The Theme of Spiritual Exile in Christ I", pp. 327ff.
11 The Bosworth-Toller Supplement, pp. 478-479, translates god "something, material or non-material, that is of advantage". This suggestion of the material seems to permeate the entry, in spite of references to spiritual goods.
12 St. Augustine, Saint Augustine on the Psalms, in: Ancient Christian Writers, trans. and ed. by Dame Scholastica Hebgin and Dame Felicitas Corrigan (London, 1960), p. 26.
13 Gollancz, in The Exeter Book, Pt. I, p. 69, gives "when through all heaven, yea, instead of the sun / the red rood shall shine forth". Gordon, Anglo-Saxon Poetry, p. 169, gives "when the red cross shines brightly over all in place of the sun". Jacobus de Voragine cites St. John Chrysostom's statement that at the Last Judgment "The Cross and the Wounds will shine more brightly than the rays of the sun." See The Golden Legend, trans. and adapted by Granger Ryan and Helmut Ripperger (New York, 1941), I, 5.
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