Monster Madness: fighting and facing the unknown in Beowulf and Lord of the Flies
The word “monsters” usually recalls childhood fears of something ugly lurking under your bed, waiting for your feet to dangle over the side so you can crawl down. It reminds you of the time when you were so scared of the dark that you had to quickly leave the room after turning off the lights just to reduce the chances of that beast in your closet gobbling you up. How _____________ last night.
Monsters, of course, are also important literary symbols and resources that have been used to represent the unknown, inexplicable, and truly spooky parts of our world. Deeply steeped in fantasy and myth, monster stories often attempt to deal with great fear, usually death. Such is the case with the Old English epic, Beowulf, which has more mythological beasts than an episode of HBO’s True Blood. You have dragons, sea monsters, a half-human descendant of Cain named Grendel, and his protective mother. JRR Tolkien, author of the equally fantastic The Lord of the Rings trilogy, was a great supporter of examining the use of fantasy and monsters in Beowulf, arguing in the famous lecture “Beowulf: The Monsters and the Critics” that such elements were a work. from art and integral to the poem’s themes of mortality, bravery, and even religion.
Grendel is the biggest idiot in history, he attacks King Hrothgar’s mead room and eats his warriors as a late night snack. This is the worst nightmare of your childhood realized: the monsters are not only real, but they are also breaking into the place where you sleep and eating you like a bag of potato chips. The fact that the attacks occur at night in the dark, desolate and chilling tribal regions of the Denmark / Sweden area only amplifies the fear that plagues the people of King Hrothgar. No wonder everyone is hiding in a giant mead hall.
Of course, that fear must be overcome. Enter Beowulf, a brave warrior who is unfazed by the possibility of death, mere monsters, or his overbearing moms. Simply put, he victoriously kills them all, even though his last encounter with the dragon cost him his life, coming out as the singular hero who saved countless people. Hurrah!
But a little fear cannot be conquered. Fear of outside creatures or elements infiltrating a shelter is also found in William Golding’s classic novel Lord of the Flies, in which a group of British children wash up on a deserted tropical island and begin to settle. a semi-society for them to survive. something like the Dane and Geat tribes represented in Beowulf. The boys fear an imaginary beast somewhere on the island, offering it severed pig heads to appease it, as if it were a monster under a bed that could be satisfied with a teddy bear thrown under it so it won’t gobble you up. above. Talk about childhood nightmares. Of course, childhood fears manifest themselves in other events that baffle children, like a lifeless man parachuting and gliding onto the island.
However, the fear that haunts them is not a Grendel-like creature that can be defeated, it is something within the boys. Simon, the only kid on the island to find out about this fact, confirms his suspicions after having a mind-blowing conversation with that severed pig’s head. Like Edgar Allen Poe’s The Raven, in which a rather one-sided chat with a majestic bird causes the speaker to project his own fears and pain until he descends into insanity, Simon’s conversation with the pig’s head also reflects the demons and inner monsters that are working within the human psyche. There are no dragons to kill, there are no battles to fight, and there is no chance for a Beowulf character to ride and save the day. The epic poem focuses on the external and more manageable unknown, while Golding’s novel takes that unknown and follows that internal fear. And that monster is something you can’t fight with a light bulb.
