You have three options so as to guarantee the peaceful fate of this Viking-land we call Central Catholic. Should you choose to accept one or the other, know that the task is of epic proportions; the destiny of Oakland rests on your shoulders. You must choose to live despite the reality of your own mortality--by doing so, you are worthy of the highest praise and the greatest of elegiac sympathies. The surmountable obstacles are as follows:
OPTION ONE:
Choose any passage of at least 20 lines from the epic Beowulf and recreate it, using your own words, your own, modern-day idiom to spice things up. Be sure to type in the original, line-for-line, before transliterating it into your own dialect.
OPTION TWO:
Imitate the alliterative style of at least 20 lines from the epic Beowulf and recreate the passage using your own subject matter (as we did with the imitation of The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde). Be sure to type the original, line-for-line, before imitating it with your own subject matter in place of the original.
OPTION THREE:
Choose any passage of at least 20 lines from the epic Beowulf and create a "spin-off" passage in which your write 20 lines of your own verse that extend the story as you see fit. Be sure to type the original, line-for-line, before spinning-off of it into a fiction of your own (using, of course, characters and themes from the poem itself).
This is due TUESDAY (10.02.07) by class time. Remember to head your submissions with MLA format:
Your Name
Teacher's Name
Subject Number/Section Number
Date Due
A Centered Title
In peace,
BRobPeachFSC
BRobPeachFSC
18 comments:
Kevin Degener
Bro. Rob Peach FSC
Brit. Lit./Section 4
Tuesday October 2, 2007
“Fire”
Original Verse:Lines 467-491
As his words ended he leaped into the lake, would not wait for anyone’s answer; the heaving waters covered him over. For hours he sank through the waves; at last he saw the mud of the bottom. And all at once the greedy she-wolf who’d ruled those waters for half a hundred years discovered him, saw that a creature from above had come to explore the bottom of her wet world. She welcomed him in her claws, clutched at him savagely but could not harm him, tried to work her fingers through the tight ring-woven mail on his breast, but tore and scratched in vain. Then she carried him, armor and sword and all, to her home; he struggled to free his weapon, and failed. The fight brought other monsters swimming to see her catch, a host of sea beasts who beat as his mail shirt, stabbing with tusks and teeth as they followed along. Then he realized, suddenly, that she’d brought him into some ones battle hall, and there the water’s heat could not hurt him. Nor anything in the lake attack him through the buildings high-arching roof. A brilliant light burned all around him, the lake itself like a fiery flame.
New Verse:
As he finished speaking he leaped into the house, he wouldn’t wait for any ones answer; the shrieking flames covered him full. For what seemed like hours and hours he searched through the flames; at last he saw the little child. And all at once the courageous man had discovered the little girl in the place she called home, and the little girl saw that a hero from above had come to discover the fiery pit she called home. She welcomed him with excitement, he tore at the wooden beam that trapped her, he grabbed it forcefully and tried to move it, but tore and worked in vain. The with all his might, his heart and soul and all, he took the beam; struggled at first; and then failed. The fight brought more power and strength to our hero, a mix of strengths that empowered his being, worked together with our hero. Then suddenly, he realized, that he moved the beam just enough, and there was room for the little girl to crawl out. Now nothing was preventing them from escaping. A scorching light burned all around them, the house itself looked like a scene from Hell.
Dave Kocinski
Bro. Rob Peach
Brit. Lit/Section 4
10/2/07
"The Battle With Grendel- The Alternate Ending" (Option 3)
Lines 285-305:
Out from the marsh, from the foot of misty
Hills and bogs, bearing God's hatred
Grendel came, hoping to kill
Anyone he could trap on this trip to high Herot,
He moved quickly through the cloudy night,
Up from his swampland. sliding silently
Toward that gold-shining hall. He had visited Hrothgar's
Home before, knew the way-
But never, before nor after that night
Found Herot defended so firmly, his reception
So harsh, he journeyed, forever joyless,
Straight to the door, then snapped it open,
Tore its iron fastners with a touch
And rushed angrily over the threshold
He strode quickly across the inlaid
Floor, snarling and fierce: his eyes
Gleamed in the darkness, burned with a grusome
Light. Then he stopped, seeing the hall
Crowded with sleeping warriors, stuffed
With rows of young soldiers resting together.
And his heart laughed, he relished the sight.
My Work:
Grendel killed them all,
With such power that no man could stop it.
Hrothgar's home had been blown to pieces
His belongings blown to shreds
Nothing remained.
Beowulf had heard the explosion,
And knew exactly what to do:
"I must kill Grendel, he destroyed
My fathers house, his everything,
His soldiers, gone, they had no choice, I will avenge their death!"
Beowulf sprinted to Hrothgar's destroyed home,
And found Grendel lying awake.
"Fiend! What possessed you to do this?" yelled Beowulf.
"You fool," said Grendel, "You will fall like the soldiers!"
Grendel leaped into battle, with no
Knowledge of Beowulf's fighting tactics.
Beowulf brought out his sword, and shoved it down Grendel's throat.
"Suffer!" yelled Beowulf.
Grendel was no more...
Bill McLean
Bro. Rob Peach
Section 4/Option 3
Beowulf’s Decline
Lines 365-385
That mighty protector of men
Meant to hold the monster till its life
Leaped out knowing the fiend was no use
to anyone in Denmark. All of Beowulf’s
Band had jumped from their beds, ancestral
Swords raised and ready, determined
To protect their prince if the could. Their courage
Was great but all wasted: they could hack at Grendel
From every side, trying to open
A path for his evil soul, but their points
Could not hurt him, the sharpest and hardest iron
Could not scratch at his skin, for that sin stained demon
Had bewitched all men’s weapons, laid spells
That blunted every mortal man’s blade.
And yet his time had come, his days
Were over, his death near; down
To hell he would go, swept groaning and helpless
To the waiting hands of still worse fiends.
Now he discovered-once the afflictor
Of men, tormentor of their days-what it meant
To feud with Almighty God: Grendel
Saw that his strength was deserting him, his claws
Bound fast, Higlac’s brave follower tearing at
his hands.
My Work
The mighty protector of men was to kill the monster.
Beowulf’s entire Band had jumped up from their beds.
Their swords were raised,
but they were not prepared to protect their prince.
They had a lot of courage, but it was all wasted.
They could hack at Grendel and were able to break his skin,
but they could not get deep enough to cut a path for his evil soul to come out.
Even the sharpest and hardest iron could not fully penetrate his skin.
One by one Grendel took out every last person in Beowulf’s Band,
and Beowulf’s time of defeat had come.
His days were over.
He felt despaired.
For he had lost the battle,
that he fought for almighty God.
Beowulf saw that his strength was deserting him,
if it hadn’t already,
as his hands were bound.
Evil had defeated him
And Grendel had become the leader,
of his band.
Zachary Polk
Bro. Rob Peach FSC
Brit. Lit/Section 4
10/2/07
“The Last Stand” (Option 3)
Lines 666-687:
The beast rose, angry,
Knowing a man had come—and then nothing
But war could have followed. Its breath came first.
A steaming cloud pouring from the stone,
Then the earth itself shook. Beowulf
Swung his shield into place, held it
In front of him, facing the entrance. The dragon
Coiled and uncoiled, its heart urging it
Into battle. Beowulf’s ancient sword
Was waiting, unsheathed, his sharp and gleaming
Blade. The beast came closer; both of them
Were ready, each set on slaughter. The Geats’
Great prince stood firm, unmoving, prepared
Behind his high shield, waiting in his shining
Armor. The monster came quickly toward him,
Pouring out fire and smoke, hurrying
To its fate. Flames beat at the iron
Shield, and for a time it held, protected
Beowulf as he’d planned; then it began to melt,
And for the first time in his life that famous prince
Fought with fate against him, with glory
Denied him.
My Work:
Beowulf knew he was in trouble,
The might prince needed some sort of shield.
Beowulf’s only option was to hide quickly behind a huge boulder.
For the few precious seconds he had,
Beowulf, thought up an attack plan.
BOOM!! Suddenly the dragon whipped its tail
Into the rock and split it into a million pieces,
Discovering the prince of the Geats, Beowulf,
The prince of the Geats sprung into action,
Drawing his trusty ancient sword.
The dragon seemed surprised at this action,
But kept on charging.
Beowulf took a swipe with his sword,
And gashed the dragon in the leg.
The mighty dragon became very angry,
Even on one leg, the dragon kept coming.
Another charge came another strike from the prince,
This time connecting in the dragon’s mid-section.
With one ferocious roar and a spit of flame the dragon was vanquished,
But defeated also was The Prince of the Geats,
Beowulf, incinerated by the flames.
Taylor Maglin
Bro. Rob Peach FSC
Brit. Lit./Section 4
Tuesday October 2, 2007
Original from lines 670-690
"The Game"
The fans were in shock. Their best player was down, and unconscious, with only 2 minutes left to play. The ref stopped the clock, and the medics came to help the player off the court. Meanwhile the opposing team was waiting, and thinking, on how they could use this to their advantage. The time for planning was over; both of the teams were back on the court, and the ref restarted the game clock. The opposing team was only down by 10 points now, with the home teams best player out the game, the team seemed to be lost, and the opposing team loved it. The home team called a timeout, the coach tried rallying them up, but still no use. There was only one minute left on the clock, the opposing team was only down 5 points now, the home team needed some type of motivation; then all the sudden the crowed began to stand and cheer the team on, and it began to work, to an extent. Now there was only 15 seconds on the clock, and the home team still held the lead by 3. The opposing team was going up the court on their final drive, the home team didn’t give up and kept playing solid defense, their was only 3 seconds left in the game now and the opposing team shot a 3 pointer, the shot was up and no good and the home team pulled out the unlikely win.
Kevin Bojarski
Bro. Rob Peach
Brit. Lit./Section 4
10/2/07
Option 3
Lost In Denmark
Original text: (204-227)
…I’ll guide you
Myself-and my men will guard your ship,
Keep it safe here on our shores,
Your Fresh-tarred boat, watch it well,
Until that curving prow carries
Across the sea to Gretland a chosen
Warrior who bravely does battle with the creature
Haunting our people, who survives that horror
Unhurt, and goes home bearing our love.
Then they moved on. Their boat lay moored,
Tied tight to its anchor. Glittering at the top
Of their golden helmets wild boar heads gleamed,
Shining decorations, swinging as they marched,
Erect like guards, like sentinels, as though ready
To fight. They marched, Beowulf and his men
And their guide, until they could see the gables
Of Herot, covered with hammered gold
And glowing in the sun-that most famous of all dwellings,
Towering majestic, its glittering roofs
Visible far across the land.
Their guide reined in his horse, pointing
To that hall, built by Hrothgar for the best
And bravest of his men; the path was plain,
They could see their way…
My “Spin Off”:
As they walked down the narrow path,
Beowulf and his men were overcome with the
Beautiful scenery Denmark had to offer.
“This land sure is beautiful,” exclaimed Beowulf,
And all of his men surely agreed.
They walked on a little further in the wilderness,
And out of no where, the path came to an end.
It just stopped, and in front of Beowulf
And his men, was nothing but forest.
To say Beowulf was mad would be an understatement.
His men assured him that they had made
A wrong turn somewhere on the trip,
And suggested they back track to find their error.
Beowulf shunned this idea,
For he was flustered, and turning around was not in his plans.
Instead he ordered they go forward,
And cut a path straight through the forest.
His men reluctantly agreed, and started forward.
They swung their swords at the brush,
Proceeding deeper and deeper into the jungle,
But seeming to be getting no closer to their destination.
Beowulf was now getting worried, though he wouldn’t admit it,
But he was most certainly lost.
And lost is how he would remain,
He missed his appointment with the king,
And it is believed that he never made it out of the forest.
Some locals though, would swear,
That in the middle of a quiet night,
If you listen close, you can hear
Beowulf and his men, wielding their swords
At the dense foliage of the forest,
Still trying to find a way out.
Timothy Brashear
Bro Rob Peach
10/2/07
Brit Lit period 5
Option three
Beowulf
Original:
Out from the marsh, from the foot of the misty
Hills and bogs, bearing God’s hatred,
Grendel came, hoping to kill
Anyone he could trap on this trip to high Herot.
He moved quickly through the cloudy night.
Up from his swampland, sliding silently
Toward that gold-shining hall. He had visited Hrothgar’s
Home before, knew the way-
But never, before nor after that night.
Found Herot defended firmly, his reception,
So harsh. He journeyed, forever joyless,
Straight to the door, then snapped it open,
Tore its iron fasteners with a touch
And rushed angrily over the threshold.
He strode quickly across the inlaid
Floor, snarling and fierce: his eyes
Gleamed in the darkness, burned with a gruesome
Light. Then he stopped, seeing the hall
Crowded with sleeping warriors, stuffed
With rows of young soldiers resting together.
And his heart laughed, he relished the sight,
Continued:
Only one thought crossed his mind,
The same thought that had crossed every night before.
He thought of a feast and splendor upon eating all the soldiers.
And so he ripped up his first target with his mighty claws,
And another until finally they awoke.
But no soldier’s weapon could harm the terrible Grendel,
Their spears and swords would bounce off his strong shell.
Until finally Beowulf was woken up.
He saw the destruction Grendel had caused and hate filled his heart.
He lunged at Grendel with his sword,
Only to be slapped to the ground and his sword broken.
He got up and wiped the dirt off his face.
He went back at Grendel with his only weapon being
His fists. And he struck Grendel with a power not ever known before.
Grendel fell back and so did Beowulf’s fellow Geats.
They knew this was a battle between Grendel and Beowulf alone.
The two fought an epic fight.
But Beowulf’s strength could not be matched by Grendel,
And Grendel was crushed by Beowulf.
Sam Viola
Br. Robert Peach
Eng. 141 British Lit.
October 2, 2007
Original Verse:
"Chose the mightiest men he could find, The bravest and best of the Geats, fourteen In all, and led them down to their boat; He knew the sea, would point the prow Straight to that distant Danish shore. Then they sailed, set their ship Out on the waves, under the cliffs. Ready for what came they wound through the currents, the seas beating at the sand, and were borne in the lap of their shining ship, lined with gleaming armor, going safely in that oak-hard boat to where their hearts took them. The wind hurried them over the waves, The ship foamed through the sea like a bird Until, in the time they had known it would take, Standing in the round-curled prow they could see Sparkling hills, high and green Jutting up over the shore, and rejoicing In those rock-steep cliffs they quietly ended their voyage. Jumping to the ground, the Geats Pushed their boat to the sand and tied it In place, mail shirts and armor rattling As they swiftly moored their ship. And then They gave thanks to God for their easy crossing." (lines 120-143)
My Work:
The stake-boat timer aligned the boats, and when the horn sounded the boats took off at an amazing speed down the course. The rowers of the Brendan Foley III sat tall and confident in their gleaming boat. They were the top eight rowers out of over a total of fifty. The bow sliced through the oncoming wake, while the competition was left behind. The crew brought up the rate in the last minutes of the race to make it know that they were there to win and would not settle for anything less than first. As the Brendan Foley III neared the finish line the crew members could see and hear the spectators cheering them on, giving them that last bit of energy to finish the race. When the finish horn sounded the rowers stayed silent until the Brendan Foley III docked. Then the crew members majestically got out of the boat and gave a sort of cheer that let everyone know who they were and that they were there to win, and had accomplished what they had come for.
Sean Dietz
Bro. Rob Peach
British Lit. / Section 4
10/2/07
“Beowulf and Grendel’s Mom”
Lines 467-487:
He leaped into the lake, would not wait for anyone’s
Answer; the heaving water covered him
Over. For hours he sank through the waves;
At last he saw the mud of the bottom.
And all at once the greedy she-wolf
Who’d ruled those waters for half a hundred
Years discovered him, saw that a creature
From above had come to explore the bottom
Of her wet world. She welcomed him in her claws,
Clutched at him savagely but could not harm him,
Tried to work her fingers through the tight
Ring-woven mail on his breast, but tore
And scratched in vain. Then she carried him, armor
And sword and all, to her home; he struggled
To free his weapon, and failed. The fight
Brought other monsters swimming to see
Her catch, a host of sea beasts who beat at
His mail shirt, stabbing with tusks and teeth
As they followed along. Then he realized, suddenly,
That she’d brought him into someone’s battle-hall,
And there the water’s heat could not hurt him.
My Work:
Grendel’s mom had control of the lake,
But Beowulf was not scared at all;
He had the guts to fight anything, anytime, anywhere.
So while Grendel’s mom was carrying Beowulf around,
Beowulf started slashing the creature
With his saber from which he pulled out to fight.
Grendel’s mom turned around and
Clawed at Beowulf, who went flying
Through the waters. Beowulf took a while
To get back on his feet. Grendel’s mother
Swam over to Beowulf and he got up
Just as she was near him and chopped her
Head off and blood came pouring out of
Grendel’s mother. Beowulf kept slashing
Her all through her enormous body as blood
Continued to pour. Finally, Grendel’s mother
Collapsed and she died there right in
The middle of the lake. Beowulf killed
The most powerful creature in the lake
And he was a hero.
Jordan Botta
Br. Rob Peach F.S.C.
British Lit./Sect. 4
October 2, 2007
Option 3- Grendel attacks
Came then striding in the night
the walker of darkness.
In that gabled hall
the warriors slept,
those who guarded the hall. . .
all but one.
It was well known among men
that, if God willed it not,
no one could drag
that demon to the shadows.
But Beowulf watched
in anger, waiting
the battle's outcome.
Came then from the moor
under the misty hills
Grendel stalking under
the weight of God's anger.
That wicked ravager
planned to ensnare
many of the race of men
in the high hall.
He strode under the clouds,
seeking eagerly, till he came to
the wine-hall, the treasure-hall
of men decorated in gold.
Nor was it the first time he
had sought Hrothgar's home.
But never in his life before
--or since--
did he find worse luck!
Came then to the building
that creature bereft of joys.
When he touched it with his hands
the door gave way at once
though its bands were forged
in fire. Intending evil,
enraged, he swung the door wide,
stood at the building's mouth.
Quickly the foe moved
across the well-made floor,
in an angry mood--a horrible light,
like fire, in his eyes.
He saw the many warriors in the building,
that band of kinsmen asleep
together, and his spirit laughed:
that monster expected
to rip life from the body of each
one before morning came.
He expected a plentiful meal.
(It was his fate
that he eat no more
of the race of men
after that night. . .)
New Verse:
For hidden in the shroud of darkness,
Unknown to the Prince of shadows,
Sat the only man alive that would grasp evil by its very root
And throw it back into the fiery pit that no living creature escapes.
As Grendel stepped closer to his first victim,
Beowulf’s soul began to burn through his chest,
So that now to still the aching of his arms to come alive
and rip the beast to shreds, he whispered come closer, closer.
As the beastly imp drew nearer, Beowulf began to say louder,
Come closer, closer.
And the beast, ignorant to all else but the taste of unsuspecting
Blood upon his lips drew ever nearer, until…
FLASH! Like a bat out of hell, Beowulf sprang into action
And in one move threw the beast onto the floor of the wine hall.
Grendel’s unsuspecting screech of pain, torment, and anguish
Echoed through the hall, so that now all around had woken
and were now cheering on their king and master, Beowulf.
And Grendel screamed again as the strong hands of Beowulf penetrated his
Shield of hatred, lust, and slaughter, digging deep into his skin and ripping
Apart his soul at the very seams.
Grendel gave one final leap of strength, lifting his sword high in the air,
But Beowulf moved in time to see the blade pierce the ground at his feet.
And acknowledging his defeat, broken and bleeding, Grendel fled to his only friend, the
darkness,
Leaving the victorious Beowulf to hold Grendels’s sword high in the air in triumph.
And after that evening, the ill-fated Grendel swore revenge against Beowulf.
As he rested in his lair, he thought to himself: “The fool has won his battle,
He will fall to me in the end.”
And as he planned, Beowulf lay in his bed, safe, warm, and unsuspecting.
For although dawn was but a few hours away, the darkness was far from over…
Earl Hewitt
Bro. Peach
Section 4
October 2nd, 2007
Option 3
Central Football Version
Lines 285-305:
Out from the marsh, from the foot of misty
Hills and bogs, bearing God's hatred
Grendel came, hoping to kill
Anyone he could trap on this trip to high Herot,
He moved quickly through the cloudy night,
Up from his swampland. sliding silently
Toward that gold-shining hall. He had visited Hrothgar's
Home before, knew the way-
But never, before nor after that night
Found Herot defended so firmly, his reception
So harsh, he journeyed, forever joyless,
Straight to the door, then snapped it open,
Tore its iron fastners with a touch
And rushed angrily over the threshold
He strode quickly across the inlaid
Floor, snarling and fierce: his eyes
Gleamed in the darkness, burned with a gruesome
Light. Then he stopped, seeing the hall
Crowded with sleeping warriors, stuffed
With rows of young soldiers resting together.
And his heart laughed, he relished the sight.
CC Football Version:
Out of Oakland, from the top of misty
Panther Hollow, beating God's love
The Vikes came, hoping to kill
Anyone they could trap on this to high Turtle Creek
They moved quickly through the friday night
Up from the city sliding silently
Toward the Glorified stadium. They had visited the
Wolvarena before, knew the way-
And knew how strongly defended the wolvarena was defended
they journeyed, full of joy to beat them to a pulp
Straight to the gates, they snatched the kickoff
Tore it down the field
And rushed angrily over the goaline
They strode across the white lines
Snarling and fierce: they're eyes
Gleamed in the Stadium lights
They stopped seeing they're opponents
Across the field
They laughed with joy for they all knew the outcome
Of this fairy tale
Jon Brewton
Bro. Rob Peach
Section 4
10.02.07
Lines 577-598
-- The then sword
Melted, blood-soaked, dripping down
Like water, disappearing like ice when the world’s
Eternal Lord loosens invisible
Fetters and unwinds icicles and frost
As only He can, He who rules
Time and season, He who is truly
God. The monsters’ hall was full of
Rich treasures, but all that Beowulf took
Was Grendel’s head and the hilt of the gaints’
Jeweled sword; the rest of the ring-marked
Blade had dissolved in Grendel’s steaming
Blood, boiling even after his death.
And then the battle’s only survivor
Swam up and away from those silent corpses;
The water was calm and clean, the whole
Huge lake peaceful once the demons who’d lived in it
Were dead.
Then that noble protector of all seamen
Swam to land, rejoicing in the heavy Burdens he was brining with him.
The Glory of Camp Victory
--Then the flag
Tattered, wet, and wrinkled
As expected, disappeared into the depths of the boys pocket
The other team left alarmed by their loss of control
People and dust and leaves flew everywhere
Then the only one boy mattered, the one with the flag
He who truly decided the end of the match
The field was filled with many distractions, but all
The boy with the flag cared about was getting
The flag into the goal area; all the other worries
And anxieties of life meant nothing at this point not,
Even his very well being.
Then the boy who all eyes were focused
Crossed the middle line away from the clutches of the other team;
Then everyone fell silent, the winning
Team erupted into cheering for the match was
Finally won.
Then the coach of this victories team
Sprinted unto the field, red with uncontainable joy
Of being the undefeated camp capture the flag champion.
Jon Brewton
Bro. Rob Peach
Section 4
10.02.07
The Glory of Camp Victory
Lines 577-598
-- The then sword
Melted, blood-soaked, dripping down
Like water, disappearing like ice when the world’s
Eternal Lord loosens invisible
Fetters and unwinds icicles and frost
As only He can, He who rules
Time and season, He who is truly
God. The monsters’ hall was full of
Rich treasures, but all that Beowulf took
Was Grendel’s head and the hilt of the gaints’
Jeweled sword; the rest of the ring-marked
Blade had dissolved in Grendel’s steaming
Blood, boiling even after his death.
And then the battle’s only survivor
Swam up and away from those silent corpses;
The water was calm and clean, the whole
Huge lake peaceful once the demons who’d lived in it
Were dead.
Then that noble protector of all seamen
Swam to land, rejoicing in the heavy Burdens he was brining with him.
--Then the flag
Tattered, wet, and wrinkled
As expected, disappeared into the depths of the boys pocket
The other team left alarmed by their loss of control
People and dust and leaves flew everywhere
Then the only one boy mattered, the one with the flag
He who truly decided the end of the match
The field was filled with many distractions, but all
The boy with the flag cared about was getting
The flag into the goal area; all the other worries
And anxieties of life meant nothing at this point not,
Even his very well being.
Then the boy who all eyes were focused
Crossed the middle line away from the clutches of the other team;
Then everyone fell silent, the winning
Team erupted into cheering for the match was
Finally won.
Then the coach of this victories team
Sprinted unto the field, red with uncontainable joy
Of being the undefeated camp capture the flag champion.
Dante Odorisio
Bro. Robert Peach
ENG 141. British Lit.
10/2/07
Option One: Behold, the monster’s lair is right before us.
Passage- lines 411-438
“I’ve heard that my people, peasants working in the fields, have seen a pair of such fiends wandering in the moor and marshes, giant monsters living in those desert lands. And they’ve said to my wise men that, as well as they could see, one of the devils was a female creature. The other, the say, walked through the wilderness like a man—but mightier than any man. They were frightened, and they fled, hoping to find help In Herot. They named the huge one Grendel: If he had a father no one knew him, or whether there’d been others before these two, hidden evil before hidden evil. They live in secret places, windy cliffs, wolf-dens where water pour from the rocks, then runs underground, where mist steams like black clouds, and the groves of trees growing out over their lake are all covered with frozen spray, and wind down snakelike roots that reach as far as the water and help keep it dark. At night the lake burns like a torch. No one knows its bottom, no wisdom reaches such depths. A deer hunted through the woods by packs of hounds, a stag with great horns, though driven through the forest from faraway places, prefers to die on those shores, refuses to save its life in the water. It isn’t far, nor is it a pleasant spot.
Transliteration-
I’ve heard that our brothers and sisters, the people of this global tribe working their proverbial fields, have seen two great evils wandering about the outskirts of the village. Many of these people have reached out to the “wise” of their societies exclaiming that this evil has an ambiguous form. The other they say seems to be very normal to this global village but carries with it immense strength—mightier than any one person is. The people, our brothers and sisters, are victims. They try to escape these patent or concealed evils, fleeing genocide, poverty, racism, sexism, disease, violence, and other evils, they land on the doorstep of places that are considered safer: America or Western Europe for example. They can name some of these said evils, but the true roots of these scars on our tribe are so old that we cannot identify them. Therefore, the people ponder whether there are even greater evils behind these blatant blemishes on humankind. These evils live in places secret to the secularly satisfied of our tribe, like sub-Saharan Africa, South East Asia, South America, and even right under our noses in our very own cities. The social constructs keep these places hidden from us, but as we sleep ignorantly, they glow bright. Few people know how deep these problems run. Those living in such conditions would rather die migrating to places like America and Europe—in tiny boats filled to the brim with passengers—than stay and try to survive in impoverished and war torn regions of our village. Hell on Earth isn’t that far, nor is it a pleasant spot.
Mike Nuttle
Bro. Rob Peach FSC
Brit. Lit./Section 4
Tuesday October 2, 2007
The Final Battle Alternate Ending (Option 3)
Original lines 650-670:
Then Beowulf rose, still brave, still strong.
And with his shield at his side, and a small mail shirt on his breast,
Strode calmly, confidently, toward the tower, under
The rock cliffs: no coward could have walked there!
And then he who’d endured dozens of desperate
Battles, who’d stand boldly, while swords and shields
Clashed, the best of kings, saw
Huge stone arches and felt the heat
Of the dragon’s breath, flooding down
Through the hidden entrance, too hot for anyone
To stand, a streaming current of fire
And smoke that blocked all passage. The Geats’
Lord and leader, angry, lowered
His sword and roared out in battle cry,
A call so loud and clear that it reached through
The hoary rock, hung in the dragon’s
Ear. The beast rose, angry,
Knowing a man had come─ and then nothing
But war could have followed, its breath came first.
A steaming cloud pouring through the stone.
Alternate Ending:
With shield in hand, Beowulf warded off the
Fiery attack. Soon after this first attack,
Beowulf’s kin, out of nowhere, ambushed the dragon,
Surrounding it. Beowulf then took to the offensive.
The dragon knew it had to take drastic measures
If it wanted a shot at winning the brawl.
Several men collaborated an attack, but
The dragon’s fiery breath burnt them to a crisp.
The struggle raged on for hours, and the opponents were
Just exchanging blows. Glory finally came to Beowulf
When an archer shot the dragon in the back
Right side of the neck. Wincing in pain, and to see
Where the projectile had come from, the dragon
Turned its head, exposing its neck to Beowulf,
Who then pounced on the opportunity. With help
From his sword Beowulf gashed the dragon’s neck.
The dragon bled profusely, which weakened it over time.
From then on the dragon was doomed. Beowulf
Dealt the final blow, severing the dragon’s head, finished the slash
That was intended. Beowulf was praised and
Honored and ruled as king for many more prosperous years. He
Was eventually buried on the ground where the dragon was slain.
Frank Intrieri
Bro. Rob Peach FSC
Brit. Lit./Section 4
Tuesday October 2, 2007
out of the marsh, from the foot of misty hills and bogs, bearings god hatred, the bear came. hoping to cause death toyone he could trap high on the hill. he moved quickly through the night, up from his dean deep in the woods. he found the hunter sleeping in the woods, but the hunter defended so firmly his reception so harsh. he gleamed in the darkness, burned with a gruesome light. stopped, picking up the hunter and taking him into his dean and finshing him off
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