Grendel

I’m pretty sure the answer to life, the universe, and everything is somewhere in this book. A more philosophical monster than the nihilistic Grendel you would have trouble finding, even including Frankenstein’s creature. Good vs. evil, politics, religion, art, the power of language to construct reality, you name it, this book’s got it. I’m also motivated to finally get around to Beowulf, since it will be all the more interesting with Grendel’s view to contrast it with.

“The dragon tipped up his great tusked head, stretched his neck, sighed fire. ‘Ah, Grendel!’ he said. He seemed that instant almost to rise to pity. ‘You improve them, my boy! Can’t you see that yourself? You stimulate them! You make them think and

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scheme. You drive them to poetry, science, religion, all that makes them what they are for as long as they last. You are, so to speak, the brute existent by which they learn to define themselves.’”

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I adored Beowulf from the first time I read it as a little girl. My mother (I was homeschooled for a good chunk of my school years) assigned me this book as required reading (fairly rare, but then, I rarely needed to be told to read, even ‘classics’ or what my mother called 'nutritional' books) when I was about fifteen.

Possibly the worst part about this book was the utter betrayal it represented. I was actually really excited about this! And then. Oh and then. Then I . . . started actually reading.

I was so enchanted by the pitch – Beowulf told from the point of view of the ‘monster’? Grendel’s story? A familiar tale told from a new angle? That’s one of my favourite things! And one of my favourite stories!

This book is show more actually very short. 174 pages in a quite small volume. I wish I could say that was a blessing, but it took me roughly six weeks to read. (In that time I read about three dozen fantasy novels and about four other classics, including rereading some Wilde.) I dragged myself through every page, feeling like I was slogging on my knees through sand dunes. I even begged my mother to let me off reading this and replace it with literally any other classic she could name. I had never done that before – and never did after – so let it stand as a marker of how much I felt tortured by this book.

(I read classic Russian literature recreationally as a teenager. Depressing, dragging, dark literature was clearly not a deal-breaker for me even then. That was and is not my problem with this book.)

Grendel is depressing, and dark, and . . . well, it is ludicrously self-indulgent over those things.

The kind of ‘I am miserable’ where it feels as though the person complaining to one – which the book, in first person, reads as a kind of stream of consciousness internal monologue of revelling in despair and gore – is delighting in how miserable and awful they are. I’m a monster, you couldn’t possibly understand, everyone hates me and there’s nothing I can do but respond by becoming ever more monstrous feel my pathos while I howl dramatically and go kill and devour more people because what is the point.

I didn’t feel like I was reading the despair of a creature the humans refuse to – or can’t – understand, one who is forced into a corner and fights, kills, because it is all he can do against these creatures to whom he cannot make himself understood, nor understand in turn – which is how it was pitched. Instead I felt like I was hearing the joyously delighted, self-centred manifesto of a psychopath whose psyche’s only ‘torture’ is in the rare occasions he faces a consequence for his actions.

I was told that this book is about confronting the monsters within ourselves, and I see it listed that way in many lesson modules. I want to personally track down the person(s) who thought this book could teach this lesson well and shake them. Hard.

Grendel has no interest in confronting the monster within himself – he is that monster, and there is nothing else but the delight in blood and death, and the self-righteous anger and disbelief when he is forced to face a consequence – like a human that fights back rather than be shredded and eaten in large chunks. How dare they.

(Oh, and it’s also more grotesque and grisly than the original Beowulf, which is . . . delightful.)

I’ve read that Gardner wrote the book intending to ‘examine the main ideas of Western Civilisation in the voice of a monster’ from an already-written story rather than creating a new one, and ‘use the various philosophical attitudes, though Sartre in particular’. (Don’t ask me what ‘use the various philosophical attitudes’ means, I have no idea what he intended with that.) He also has said Grendel represented Sartre’s philosophical position, and that he borrowed much of the book from ‘Being and Nothingness’.

I won’t lie to you, when I read those claims from Gardner my first reaction was ‘oh, so the book was terrible because you were trying to be pretentious?’ and it really, really is – pretentious, that is, not reminiscent of Sartre.

After reading that it was supposed to be, I can see (sort of) the way that Gardner wound the theories of Being and Nothingness into Grendel. But it’s hardly recognisable and in Grendel’s mind comes off as yet another self-centred backdrop of ‘here is why I am such a miserable being, and why it is not my fault’.

I’m glad I was familiar with Sartre before finding out this work was supposed to represent his philosophies, and that it was not presented to me thus in high school, or I might very well have been soured on an entire school of philosophical thought by this ridiculously drab, entitled, self-aggrandising drivel.

For another perspective on Beowulf, I recommend staying to the fascinating essays many very interesting people have written, and away from John Gardner. show less

Grendel by John Gardner takes the Beowulf story that some of us read in high school and turns it on its head.
If you think you know who is the hero here, keep reading.

Grendel is an articulate monster, curious about life and art and his role as "Brute Extant" and mead hall wrecker. He wants to fit in, He wants to understand. He's lonely.

The Shaper - the King's blind harper - sings of a world of noble warriors and a benevolent God. Grendel knows better. He sees the world as a place of random violence and greed and lust and savagery. He's not the only "Monster" here.

The Thane's government, seen as wise and merciful, is just the way that the rich and powerful STAY rich and powerful. Sound familiar?

There is a curmudgeonly and know-it-all show more dragon, who pokes holes in all of Grendel's illusions, and Beowulf himself, who shows up late in the book to carry out his assigned role in the history. (Free will? Or pre-destination? You decide).

It's a advanced seminar in Existential Philosophy wrapped up in breathtakingly beautiful poetry, asking questions that are still valid and still important. Who shapes society? The Poets -- who lie? Or the monsters -- who by being "evil" teach men how to be "Good".

You want Answers? Talk to the dragon. show less

Incredible. Grabs, stuns and gives you a good mental kicking - up there for me with Wind Up Bird Chronicle, American Psycho, Lord of the Flies and Never Let Me Go (although not at all like any of them).

So dense in its lyricism, poetry and philosophy that it took me a while to settle into the voice of the book.

So compelling that although you frequently feel a deep need to rest and reflect after each section, you also can't wait to find out what happens next. And yet, a good part of its power lies in the foreknowledge of the story (having just read Beowulf), in its dread inevitability.

A retelling of Beowulf from the viewpoint of the monster.
Retellings are a tricky business, I think. You have to stay true to the spirit of the original while also making the story your own and using it for your own purposes. I know this one has received high acclaim, and while I started out with high hopes, in the end it just didn't work for me. Gardner is clearly using the tale to engage with Big Philosophical Ideas (I mean the whole thing is lousy with Sartre), and that's fine, of course, but it just feels like the story gets lost somewhere along the way and there's more interpretation and metaphor than retelling, or for that matter, telling at all. Plus, it's so very grim. It's dark without the depth of actual feeling of the show more original, which mean we're left with just dreariness. show less

This is one of my favorites. The way Gardner presents Grendel is remarkable. The complexity of the character is a stark contrast to the original. Having read it for the first time right after Beowulf changed my views of the characters. It felt a little strange. I felt compassion for a character that I had just felt fear and disdain for. It does what true art should do: change you.

4.5/5 Having taught BEOWULF for a number of years to my sophomore honors, why didn't I have them read this, too? This book is not simply a retelling of BEOWULF from the monster's point of view; it is highly intellectual and philosophical as Grendel seeks to find some sort of meaning to his life. Drawn to and repulsed by humans, he reminds me of Frankenstein's creature, who also seeks the purpose to his existence. Several philosophies are explored here, most of which I can't wait to look into. The trope of reading a story from the supposed villain's point of view is not new, but it is absolutely heart-wrenching here. I dare anyone who reads this not to be touched by Grendel's utter isolation and loneliness. What a read.