Beowulf and The Lord of the Rings both contain occasions in which a blade melts, and a related motif of the perilous qualities of the fluids of monsters. In Beowulf these motifs serve to develop a pervasive set of associations and oppositions, in which light, day and mortal men are linked, and oppose dark, night and monsters, respectively. The perilous fluids, and the contexts in which they occur, highlight these elements, in particular emphasising the monsters’ estrangement from men. Tolkien consciously adopts this matrix and extends it, using the same motifs to do so. Where fire and heat in Beowulf are almost invariably associated with destruction and death, in The Lord of the Rings they are a point of tension between the clearly delineated correspondences of light and the warmth of day and goodness on the one hand, and darkness, evil and cold on the other; they are, or can be, both boon and bane.1 This ambiguity is not wholly new, however: Tolkien has taken as a point of extrapolation the ice simile of Beowulf (1605–1611), describing the melting of the sword that slays Grendel’s mother.2
Hot bodily fluids are a characteristic of almost all of the monsters in Beowulf, and emphasise both their inimical nature and their shared inhumanity. It is indeed a large part of what distinguishes them from mortal men and heroes. The discussion on the titles of Grendel and his mother in the appendix of Tolkien:1936 demonstrates these creatures’ likeness to human form and the use of terms which also apply to normal men and women. Even in their superhuman qualities, Grendel and Beowulf have a curious similarity: where Grendel seizes thirty thanes in his first attack on Heorot, Beowulf has the strength of thirty men in his grip (122–123, 379–380). There are differences, of course, and no doubting that Grendel is of a different sort than mortal men. However, within the action of the story, rather than in the narrator’s description of and commentary on it, Grendel’s blood clearly distinguishes him as a monster.
Of the creatures which are killed only the nicras and eotena
cyn are not given hot blood or the like, if we assume
that Grendel, rather than they, is the source of the hātan heolfre at the mere.3
Strictly speaking, Grendel’s mother is not described
as having the hot blood or poison of her son (wæs þæt blōd tō
þæs hāt, ættren ellorgǣst
,
1616–1617); however, as the mother of Grendel she is
already clearly a monster, and her blood is also on the
sword when it melts (sweord wæs
swātig
, 1569).4 The dragon slain by Sigemund
is consumed by heat (wyrm hāt
gemealt
, 897), though no indication is given as to
whether the heat was from an external or an internal
source.5 The dragon slain by Beowulf
and Wiglaf is constantly linked with fire: it ongan glēdum spīwan
(2312); its breath is hāt hildeswāt
(2558); the wound it
inflicts on Beowulf burns, the poison welling up with a
deadly evil in his breast (2711–2715); and
Wiglaf’s hand is burned in striking the belly of the
beast (2697–2702).
Not only are hot blood and breath distinctly unnatural traits
in their own rights, but they are also part of a consistent
portrayal of heat and flame in contexts of ferocity,
destruction and death throughout the poem. Fire ealle forswealg, gǣsta gīfrost
(1122–1123), and it occurs in descriptions of the dragon
(not only of its breath), the lair of Grendel (fȳr on flōde
, 1366), the funeral
pyres, and the destruction of both Heorot and Beowulf’s
hall.6 This metaphor of fire as a
devouring entity is extended in Beowulf by the
digestive meanings of meltan
(Bosworth:1972). Forms of this word occur both
in the melting of the blade (1608, 1615) and also in the
burning of halls (2326) and funeral pyres (1120, 3011), and
significantly too in the description of Wiglaf’s
bravery: [n]e gemealt him se mōdsefa
(2628, joined with the statement that his blade too did not
fail). Where the imagery is not directly of destruction, it is
brief and ambiguous, as in the fire-hardened helmets (305) and
the fire-forged bars on Heorot’s door (which Grendel
makes short work of, 721–722).
The contexts in which the monsters’ fluids occur reveal the links between monsters and darkness, and their antipathy to daylight. There are many instances where this is made clear, and though of course most are not connected with fluids at all, on two significant occasions they are. A light as if of the sun marks the end of Grendel’s mother who, like her child and the dragon, hates the day (1570–1572). In an analogous episode in other works this light occurs earlier, while the monster is alive, and plays a part in its death;7 even in the form encountered here, the connection is made clear from the blood on the blade.
While the context is sufficient in itself to proclaim the positive nature of sunlight, this attribute has already been established in the poem. The song which first enrages Grendel tells in part how the Almighty
gesette sigehrēþig sunnan ond mōnan lēoman tō lēohte landbūendum(94–95)
In using the word sigehrēþig, light and triumph in
battle are joined, a sure echo of God’s victory over the
giants and all of Cain’s kin. Further, the dawn light is
beorht bēacen Godes
(570).
The second instance of this opposition between light and a
monster’s fluids occurs is the dragon’s
rampage. Setting forth at night, it ongan
glēdum spīwan
(2312) and the brynelēoma
is clear far and wide, a dire
parallel to the light of the sun.
The series of linked oppositions found in
Beowulf is also used in The Lord of the
Rings, but with a prominent addition and
alteration. Tolkien introduces coldness as a characteristic
associated with darkness and evil, and in response heat
becomes its opposite, associated with light and goodness.8
This realignment is not total, for heat (and particularly
flame) can also be marks of evil. The ambiguity exists in the
concept of heat as a whole, not within any individual
instance: a given flame is either good or evil, not both at
the same time.9 [O]pposing the fire that
devours and wastes
is the fire that kindles, and
succours in wanhope and distress
(Tolkien:1982, 391). As in Beowulf,
dissolved blades and perilous fluids are used extensively to
develop and support this and other elements of the symbolic
framework.
The first melting sword in The Lord of the Rings
illustrates this shift of values: the blade is a Morgul-knife,
wielded by a Nazgûl, and the wound has a pain like a
dart of poisoned ice
(I, 11, 191). The knife melts not in
Frodo’s blood (which is not
hot) but in the light (and presumably the warmth) of dawn (I,
12, 193). While this episode may at
first seem only minimally related to the melting blade in
Beowulf, the reversal of elements is in fact
anticipated there, in the ice simile:
Þæt wæs wundra sum, þæt hit eal gemealt īse gelīcost, ðonne forstes bend Fæder onlǣteð, onwindeð wǣlrāpas, sē geweald hafað sǣla ond mǣla; þæt is sōð Metod.(1607–1611)
The hot blood of the monster is likened allusively to the
warmth of spring, and the onwindeð
wǣlrāpas
is surely still in the listener’s
mind when the flood by which the Lord destroys the gīganta cyn
, written on the hilt of the
melted sword, is described some eighty lines later
(1687–1693). Given that the blade is ealdsweord eotenisc
(1558) and enta ǣrgeweorc
(1679), there are in
Beowulf already the elements of an ill blade,
connected with ice and cold, melted by a good force.
The parallels do not end there, leaving no doubt that Tolkien
deliberately adapted the scene in the poem he knew so
well. Strider keeps the hilt of the weapon, and
Glorfindel’s elvish eyes read evil writings on it (I,
12, 205), just as Beowulf takes the hilt and shows it and its
rūnstafas
to Hroðgar
(1677–1698). Twice a form of the verb ‘to
melt’, modern counterpart of the Old English meltan, is used of the blade’s
dissolving, once for the blade proper and again for the
splinter extracted from Frodo’s arm (II, 1,
215–216).11
The same verb occurs in a different form in the conflict
between Gandalf and the Balrog. In the single clash of
blades, the Balrog’s
sword flew up in molten fragments
(II, 5, 322). The
cause of the melting in this case is the fire of Gandalf
and Glamdring, a stab of white fire
. Throughout this
encounter the ambiguous nature of heat and fire in The
Lord of the Rings is at the fore, and reaches its apex
in the sword melting, when good fire meets evil fire and
proves the mightier. Prior to this we have seen Gandalf
work with fire, but here he reveals much more of his
connection with flame: I am a servant of the Secret Fire,
wielder of the flame of Anor.
This is a step beyond
beautiful fireworks and lighting fires, and reveals the
associations of this fire with goodness and daylight. The
first reference is explained in The Silmarillion
(Tolkien:1977, 25) (where it is also called the
Flame Imperishable among other names), which shows it to be
the source of Being, the creative spirit of Ilúvatar. The
flame of Anor is not referred to elsewhere, but as Anor is
Sindarin for sun, the association is positive.12 After breaking the sword,
Gandalf creates a blinding sheet of white flame
, a
fire of the sun rather than of the pit.13 Later it is
told that Gandalf had long borne Narya the Great, the Ring
of Fire, with which he may rekindle hearts in a world that
grows chill
(Appendix B, 1060).14
Opposing this beneficent fire is the demonic force of
destruction that fire is in Beowulf, with the
same connections to darkness and evil that occur
there. Gandalf faces a flame of Udûn
, who
wields a blade like a stabbing tongue of fire
, a red
sword… flaming
.15 The Balrogs are, like Gandalf, Maiar,
and they are scourges of fire
(Tolkien:1977, 31), their hearts were of
fire
(Tolkien:1977, 47) and they had whips
of flame
(ibid.). The
reference to Udûn connects them to Utumno, the fortress
of Morgoth deep under Earth, beneath dark mountains where
the beams of Illuin were cold and dim
(Tolkien:1977, 36).16
This quote from The Silmarillion raises a paradox that recurs in the final example in The Lord of the Rings of a melting sword, a paradox of destructive heat being linked with cold. After Merry stabs the Lord of the Nazgûl with the sword of Tyrn Gorthad
And behold! there lay his weapon, but the blade was smoking like a dry branch that has been thrust in a fire; and as he watched it, it writhed and withered and was consumed.17
(V, 6, 826)
Yet throughout the book the Nazgûl are consistently
associated with cold. Merry shivers
before being overcome by the Black Breath in Bree (I, 10,
170), and both his, Éowyn’s and Frodo’s arms are icy after striking
and being struck by a Nazgûl respectively (I, 12, passim; V, 8, 849; V, 8, 841). The Black
Breath (called by the Gondorians the Black Shadow) causes its
victims to pass into a deadly cold
(V, 8, 842). Even
their voices are cold and freeze listeners with fear (I, 4,
88; I, 12, 194; V, 1, 749; V, 4, 790–791).
The solution lies in the two types of flame and their relationship to the sun. The destructive fire is associated with cold because both are the antithesis of the warmth of divine light, from the sun, the stars, the Two Trees, and the Lamps of the Valar.18
In the Khazad-dûm sequence we are presented with the
only instance of hot blood in The Lord of the
Rings, and while brief here too Tolkien has
Beowulf very much in mind. For as in the poem, it
is important to emphasise the monstrous nature of the servants
of Sauron, and unnatural blood is the method used.19 After Frodo stabs the troll
with Sting, [b]lack drops dripped from the blade and smoked
on the floor
(II, 5, 316).20 This use of the motif is
made more telling by two parallels with
Beowulf. The troll appears only in part, from
behind a door, and it is his huge arm and shoulder
which thrust forward first. Here, surely, is Grendel’s
own hond…, earm ond eaxle
(834–835). Further, the troll is impervious to
Boromir’s weapon, and only Frodo’s Eldar-forged
sword penetrates it, as later Pippin’s written blade
of Westernesse
causes the black blood of the troll-chief
to gush out (V, 10, 874). The similarity with Grendel and
Grendel’s mother is clear.21
In all these uses of perilous fluids in The Lord of the Rings, Beowulf stands in the background as a source not only of the particular motifs but also the use to which they are put. In developing his symbolic framework of opposed forces of good and evil, even where it differs from that in Beowulf, Tolkien draws heavily on that poem and its language.
Water is also handled differently by Tolkien. In Beowulf the sea and the mere are the abodes of monsters, and warriors thank God for an easy journey across the depths (227–228). In The Lord of the Rings, and more so in the tales of the First and Second Ages and earlier, the Sea is tied to Aman, and water is the bane of evil and another opposite of ill flame (as in Galadriel’s phial and the King’s Fountain in Gondolin; and the waters of Bruinen are adorned with white flames during the flood). Only the Watcher in the Water defies the power of Ulmo (and that through the unnatural damming of the Sirannon). However, this element is sadly outside the scope of this essay.
All Beowulf line references and quotations are from the text given in Klaeber:1950.
The nicras are encountered on two occasions, described at 549–581 and 1422–1441. The eotena cyn occur at 419–421 and 883–884. The hot blood is part of the description of the mere, 1422–1423, the words repeated from the description of that place the morning after the wounded Grendel fled there (847–849).
The mother–son relationship is made more of, and is a closer one, than simply being a descendant of Cain, which the eotenas are also.
In Vǫlsunga Saga
(Finch:1965, 18–19) Fáfnir fnýsti eitri alla leið fyrir sik
fram
, but his blood is curiously handled. Sigurðr
worries about getting in the way of sveita
ormsins
, is given a scheme by Óðinn to avoid
contact with it, and after all that ends up hefir allar hendr blóðgar upp til
axlar
, to no ill effect! The blood seems not even to be
hot, as Reginn happily drinks it straight away. However, when
Sigurðr cooks the heart, he is burned by it and tastes
of the now hot blood when licking his wound, which does have
a significant effect.
The dragons in Gull-þóris Saga (4) breathe fire and poison, and their blood kills (passage included in Garmonsway:1968, 326–327).
In The Lord of the Rings the latter two appear
together, linked by Denethor’s despair, his madness
a light like flame
in his eyes. He lights his funeral
pyre, after declaring:
[Faramir] lies within… burning, already burning. They have set a fire in his flesh. But soon all shall be burned. The West has failed. It shall all go up in a great fire, and all shall be ended. Ash! Ash and smoke blown away on the wind!(V, 7, 834)
His end, like that of the warriors of the Finn episode, is
in the greedy roaring of the fire
which claims also
the House of the Stewards (V, 7, 836–837; references
to The Lord of the Rings are of the form book
(appendix), chapter, page, and refer to the
Tolkien:1997a edition).
Þorsteins þáttr uxafóts, 11, has the light and the vile fluids occuring in combination as the old hag Skjaldvǫr retches after being struck by the ray of light. Other examples, including those from later Icelandic folkstories, (and a likely basis for trolls turning into stone in The Lord of the Rings) are in Gullbrá og Skeggi (Garmonsway:1968, 330), Helgaqviða Hiǫvarðzsonar (Kuhn:1962, 30) and a number of the troll stories in Simpson:1972.
In Beowulf the ocean weather when Beowulf is
attacked by nicras is cealdost
(546), the waters Grendel’s
mother must dwell in are cealde
(1261),
and expeditions of mortal vengeance are similarly cold
(2396); there is an association here, but it is a weak
one.
A few examples of cold in a positive, or at least non-evil
context, can be found in The Lord of the Rings:
Sting and Andúril are both described, in part, as
having a cold light (II, 3, 269–270), while
Glamdring gleamed, cold and white
(II, 5,
322). Again, the association is weak and can be seen as an
opposition to evil fire; see also footnote
13 for more on Andúril.
The source of the split nature of fire, within the mythology of Tolkien’s sub-creation, is Melkor’s treachery, and it is particularly significant that many Maiar associated with fire were drawn to or corrupted by him.
On the second occasion the phrasing is unusual: It has
been melted.
No hint is given as to the agent. Compare
this with another significant agentless passive, when
Gandalf says that [n]aked I was sent back
after
dying upon Celebdil (III, 5, 491). It is likely that in the
latter case the agent is the divine in the form of the Valar
who originally sent the Istari to Middle-earth
(Tolkien:1982, 388–402, gives the almost
complete history of Tolkien’s writings on the Istari);
the former is then perhaps the divine in another form (even
simply the sun; see footnote 11).
Compare also these lines from the Old English charm Wið fǣrstice:
gif hērinne sȳ īsenes dǣl, hægtessan geweorc, hit sceal gemyltan!(Sweet:1967, 18–19)
Here too the melting is caused by a positive force, though it is not clear just what that power is, and again the melted weapon is associated with dire forces.
The sun, in the published Silmarillion, is the last fruit of Laurelin, the Golden Tree, brought into being by the Valar Yavanna and Nienna, and is guided by a spirit of fire uncorrupted by Morgoth (Tolkien:1977, 99–100). The pedigree is thus impeccable.
Light and positive fire are also often linked in swords. In
this scene Glamdring gleamed
and glittered white
in answer
to the Valarauko’s flaming sword (II, 5,
322), and other examples abound: Andúril, the Flame of
the West (V, 6, 830), gleams with white fire
(III, 7,
521), flamed
and gleamed
at Helm’s Deep
(III, 7, 523 and 525) and cleaves an Orc’s helm and head with a flash
like flame
(II, 5, 317); the writing upon Pippin’s blade glinted like
fire
(V, 10, 874); Sting flashed and glittered like a
blue flame
in the presence of Orcs (II, 6, 336); and Elessar holds up
Andúril glittering in the sun
(V, 9, 864), for
the light of sun shone redly in it, and the light of the
moon shone cold
(II, 3, 269). The use of these gl-
words, all having the sense of shining light, is of course
deliberate. Similarly Éowyn’s sword, when it
shatters, does so sparkling
(V, 6, 824).
Likewise Faramir speculates that Andúril may
rekindle [hope]
for the people of Gondor (IV, 5,
662).
Tolkien is largely consistent in associating the colour red
with destructive flame and white with positive flame. The
quotations above about Glamdring and the Valarauko’s
sword are typical examples out of many. When Gandalf and
Pippin journey to Minas Tirith,
the moon is yellow fire
, and shortly thereafter Pippin mistakes the red fire
of
the beacons of Gondor for dragons. When Gandalf sets him
straight, he says that war is kindled
(V, 1, 731)
— red fire is not always evil, but it is always tied
to destruction.
Udûn is Sindarin for Utumno (Tolkien:1977, 365). Illuin was one of the Lamps of the Valar which first lit Middle-earth, and which Morgoth destroyed in his hatred for all such divine lights.
Here there is no telling use of ‘melt’, but the
language matches the meaning of meltan exactly: to melt, become liquid, be
consumed (Bosworth:1972). These meanings occur
together in the description of dragon-fire as able to
melt and consume the Rings of Power
(I, 2, 59).
For another blade which withers, see footnote 20.
‘Pale’ is often used in conjunction with evil
fire and light, and likewise with coldness. In the
wight’s lair a pale greenish light
grows, a
cold glow
(I, 8, 137). The word occurs thrice more
in the barrow episode, alongside many references to cold and
the contrast between the glow and the warming daylight. The
wight’s incantation tells of coldness and the failing
of the Sun and the Moon. It is therefore reasonable to
suppose that the word carries a connotation of coldness
elsewhere in the work: Shelob’s eyes glow with pale
deadly fire
(IV, 9, 704); Grishnákh has a light
like a pale but hot fire behind his eyes
(III, 3, 445;
compare Grendel, [h]im of eagum stod ligge
gelicost leoht unfæger
(726–727)); Denethor
gives a pale smile, like a gleam of cold sun on a
winter’s evening
(V, 1, 739); the knife and hand
of the Nazgûl at Amon Sûl glowed with a pale
light
(I, 11, 191) and later their associations are
spelled out within a few sentences:
Swords were naked in their pale hands; helms were on their heads. Their cold eyes glittered, and they called to him with fell voices. … A breath of deadly cold pierced [Frodo] like a spear, as with a last spurt, like a flash of white fire, the elf-horse… passed right before the face of the foremost Rider.
(I, 12, 208)
In contrast, those same eyes of Shelob are burned by the
light of Galadrial’s phial, which blazed suddenly
like a white torch
and flamed like a star
(IV,
10, 713) — and of course the light is indeed that of
the star Gil-Estel, being the Silmaril borne by
Eärendil.
For all that there are dragons, wargs, the winged
steeds of the Nazgûl, and Ungoliant and her descendents
in Middle-earth, the great majority of monsters are of
humanoid form, and need to be distinguished from the Free
Peoples. The perilous fluids motif could not be overused
(Grishnákh’s foul breath
(III, 3, 445) is
as close as Orcs get), and other
techniques are brought to bear (such as the mixing of uruks and Men by Saruman, which serves to
increase the monstrosity both of the half-breed and regular
Orcs).
In the Nirnaeth Arnoediad it is told that
Húrin’s axe smoked in the black blood of the
troll-guard of Gothmog until it withered
(Tolkien:1977, 195).
Most blades, even those of high quality, fail to hurt a
monster, even when well-made and having proved potent in the
past, as is the case with Hrunting
(1457–1464). Grendel’s family is susceptible to
no blade but the wæpna cyst
(1559),
and Beowulf’s ærgod
sword
Nægling shatters in the fight with the dragon. In
The Lord of the Rings Frodo’s blade manages only to cut
the cloak of the Nazgûl on Amon Sûl, and later
breaks at a gesture from that same monster (I, 12, 209).
Gimli’s axe being notched by the iron collar of an
Orc at Aglarond is a different
matter, as the creature was killed by the weapon (III, 8,
530). This example is closer to those occasions when a
blade is destroyed in its successful use, as with the
sword with which Frodo attacks
the Barrow-wight (I, 8, 138), Éowyn’s sword on
slaying the Lord of the Nazgûl (V, 6, 824), Narsil in
the overthrow of Sauron (II, 2, 237), and of course Merry’s melting blade. In this
fight in Khazad-dûm, Aragorn’s praise of Frodo and his weapon reinforces the
point. The breaking of Gandalf’s staff when
fighting the Balrog may also be grouped with these
— The staff in the hand of a wizard may be more
than a prop for age
said Háma when asking for the
guests’ weapons (III, 6, 500).