Master of the Word Hoard – Seamus Heaney

“Internationally recognized as the greatest Irish poet since WB Yeats…*”, and a winner of the Nobel Prize for Literature, the first poetry of Heaney’s which I read was his masterful translation of Beowulf. Though at that time I’d only heard of the poem, I had been searching for it in the local bookshops for some months before finding the slim volume hidden among other volumes on the “Poetry and Literature” shelf. When at last I got my hands on it, I had no idea of the impact it would have on my life.

Opening lines of Beowulf

As someone mostly ignorant of Anglo-Saxon poetry (and the richness of the language and culture) at that time, the poem opened up a whole new world. It was a world veiled by time, culture and many of the prejudices held about the Dark and Middle Ages. But it is a world steeped in legends and myths; the heroes great but fallible, the warriors and lords capable of great destruction, and yet lament at the death of friends. One of my favourite passages in the poem – and one which still move me to tears, is  when Hrothgar laments his counselor Aeschere’s death:

Then Hrothgar, the Shieldings’ helmet, spoke:

‘Rest? What is rest? Sorrow has returned.

Alas for the Danes! Aeschere is dead.

He was Yrmenlaf’s elder brother

and a soul-mate to me, a true mentor,

my right-hand man when the ranks clashed

and our boar-crests had to take a battering

in the line of action. Aeschere was everything

the world admires in a wise man and a friend.

(Heaney 2000:44) 

There are also videos of Heaney reading from his own translation:

Seamus Heaney - Beowulf (1/7) by poetictouch

Yes, Heaney left a body of work worthy of remembrance and celebration. His name will be remembered and his works will endure. Yet, my sorrow at the news of his passing was the sorrow of someone who was deeply touched by a work over a thousand years old; a body literature suddenly made accessible. It was the sorrow of someone who could never say “Thank you, you have touched my life and led me on a path I could never have foreseen”.

In his foreword to TheWord Exchange, Heaney noted “… Anglo-Saxon poetry isn’t all stoicism and melancholy, isn’t all about battle and exile and a gray dawn breaking: it can be unexpectedly rapturous as in The Vision of the Cross and happily didactic as in the allegory of Whale. It can be intimate and domestic, and take us to places far behind the shield wall…” (Delanty & Matto 2011:XII).

Yet, in the end, there is perhaps not much more than I can say, but to quote from the Maxims found in The Word Exchange (Delanty& Matto 2011:13):

A tree must shed its leaves,        its branches be barren;

the traveler must embark            on the start of travels;

all the mortals must       meet their fate

But, Mr. Heaney, may your words live forever, bringing new inspiration to those who already know your work and those who pick up one of your volumes for the first time. Thank you for touching my life.

Photo by Ian's Shutter Habit

Sources:

Delanty, G.and M. Matto (eds.). 2011. The WordExchange: Anglo-Saxon Poems in Translation. London, W.W. Norton &Company.

Heaney, S.2000. Beowulf. London, Faber andFaber Limited.

*Quotation from Seamus Heaney’s Obituary: BBC News, 30 August 2013.

Findings and Bookish Bits: Of Wanderers, Professors and LOTR

I stumbled onto this blog today and found "Professor Awesome" (Please go and watch the rest of his videos here).

I love the Anglo Saxon poem "The Wanderer" and also wrote a short post about it and its links with JRR Tolkien over here.




I will not be doing much watching-of-videos or reading-of-blogs this weekend, though. With a deadline looming on Monday; I'll be typing away, drinking coffee and basically having my nose stuck in my own research. And then I'll let my mind wander again.

Friday Inspiration: Fitting In Cardboard

SafetySuit - These Times

Vondste: inskrywings en ander boekbrokkies

Ek is mal daaroor om handgeskrewe name, datums of boodskappe binne boeke te vind^‡. Een van my geliefste boeke (The Children of Hurin deur J.R.R. Tolkien) het ’n inskrywing deur my oorlede ma in ek verwonder my altyd aan name of boodskappe binne tweedehandse boeke of boeke wat aan biblioteke geskenk is. (Hoe ouer, hoe beter, in my beskeie opinie.)

Om geskiedenis aan te raak

Die vorige keer wat ek die universiteitsbiblioteek besoek het, het ek inskrywings in twee van die boeke wat ek gebruik het gevind. Wat dit interessanter maak, is dat ek die eerste persoon is om die boeke uit te neem sedert hulle geskenk is. (Maar ek moet bieg dat dit redelik gereeld gebeur aangesien my studies nou nie juis “hoofstroom” is nie.) Maar terug na die boeke.

Donasie van ’n skat

Die eerste boek is ‘n 1928-uitgawe van die Nederlandse gedig Mei (deur Herman Gorter), wat aan die biblioteek geskenk is deur ene Mev. de Bruyn. Die boekplaat se voorkoms – met die ou naam van die universiteit* (en die gebruik van die afkorting “mevr.”) sou beteken dat die boek ’n redelike aantal jare gelede geskenk is.

Haar naam (hoewel ek nie doodseker is dat sy dit self geskryf het nie) is in pragtige sierskrif aangebring saam met “Pretoria” en die datum “1/7/29” (as ek dit reg kan uitmaak). Die ink het al met tyd vervaag soos die papier stadig verbruin het en vertoon nou byna as ’n watermerk.

Soos ek deur die boek blaai het ek op ’n “boekmerk” afgekom. Die boekmerk is maar net ’n stukkie donkerkleurige wol, aan die een kant met ’n skêr geknip en aan die ander kan blykbaar met die hand gebreek, is tussen blaaie geplaas wat die enigste merke (sover ek kon sien) in die boek bevat. Ek wonder of hierdie twee reëls deur Mev. de Bruyn self aangebring is en watter betekenis dit vir die leser gehad het?

Ek moet sê dat ek verbaas was om hierdie boek op die oop rakke te vind!

’n Naam wat ek nie kan uitmaak nie

Die tweede boek bevat ook ’n naam en datum, maar ek kan net die datum – 1914 – en nie die naam uitmaak nie. Hierdie boek bevat ongelukkig nie, soos die vorige, ’n boekplaat nie. Die boek, Geschiedenis der Noord-Nederlandsche Letteren in de XIX^e Eeuw in biographieën en bibliographieën, 1830 – 1900, het ’n pragtige titelplaat van die skrywer, Dr. Jan ten Brink (1834 – 1901), met ’n ernstige uitdrukking en baie indrukwekkende snor.

Ongelukkig hou die biblioteek nie rekord van die donateurs nie. Dus het ek geen manier om uit te vind wie Mev. de Bruyn is of watter ander boeke sy dalk geskenk het nie. Dít laat my natuurlik met ’n effense raaisel – en wys ook net hoe nuuskierig ek kan wees wanneer dit by boeke kom…

‡ Ek wil net een ding duidelik maak: hierdie sluit nie die ontsiering van boeke in nie (alhoewel dit opsigself ook ’n storie kan vertel).

* RAU is nou deel van die Universiteit van Johannesburg. 

Findings: Inscriptions and Other Bookish Bits

I love finding handwritten names, dates, or messages inside books^‡. One of my most treasured books (The Children of Hurin by J.R.R. Tolkien) contains a message by my late mother, and, therefore, I always wonder at the messages or names found inside the covers of second hand or donated library books. (The older, the better, in my opinion.)

Touching History

The last time I visited the university library I found inscriptions in two of the books I was using. What made it even more interesting; was that I was the first to borrow the books since their donation. (I’ll admit that this happens quite a lot just because my studies aren’t exactly “mainstream”.) But back to the books.

Donating Treasure

The first is a 1928 edition of the Dutch poem Mei (byHerman Gorter), donated to the library by Mrs H. de Bruyn. The bookplate on the inside cover is one showing the old name of the university (Rand Afrikaans University/Randse Afrikaanse Universiteit in Afrikaans)*.

Her name is written (though I am unsure of whether she wrote it herself) in a lovely handwriting with “Pretoria” and the date “1/7/29” (as best as I can make out) written below. 

The ink faded as the paper slowly turned a deeper brown, but as I paged through it, a “bookmark” caught my eye.

It is a simple piece of dark coloured yarn, cut with scissors on one side, seemingly broken by hand on the other, is placed between the only pages I saw any other markings or notes – perhaps made by Mrs de Bruyn?

I really wonder what significance these two lines held for the reader. And I was quite surprised that this volume is available on the open shelves!

The Unreadable Name

The second book also contains a name and date, but I cannot read it and, unfortunately, it does not contain a bookplate like the other. The book, Geschiedenis der Noord-Nederlandsche Letteren in de XIX^e Eeuw in biographieën en bibliographieën, 1830 – 1900, contains the name and the date “1914”. The frontispiece has a lovely plate of the serious-looking, and seriously moustached writer, Dr Jan ten Brink (1834– 1901).  

Unfortunately records of those who donate books to the library are not kept, so I have had no luck in tracking down who Mrs de Bruyn was/is and what other donations she may have made. This, of course, leaves me with a small mystery – and also goes to show that I can be very nosy when it comes to books...

‡ Just to be clear: this does not include the defacement of books. (Although that may also tell its own story.)

* It is now part of the University of Johannesburg.