Unferth

Character Analysis

Brother, What a Thane!

Unlike many of the characters in Gardner's novel, Unferth comes to us from the Old English poem pretty much as is. Though we don't get to pry into Unferth's head much in the novel, we can still make some good guesses about him. Think of when Beowulf challenges him in Hrothgar's meadhall, for instance. What do we find out about Unferth? He's a drunk. He's a braggart. He talks big and acts small. Worst of all, he's a kin-killer.

We don't get much detail on that situation, but we don't need it. Both the Beowulf-poet and Gardner plug into a literary type in order to imply one thing for sure about Unferth: he's as doomed as Grendel. No, we don't have dragon-like gifts of prophecy—we've just read the right books.

In Beowulf, the hero remembers the sad story of Herebeald and Hæðcyn, a retelling of the popular myth of Baldr, son of Odin, who is accidentally killed by his blind brother, Höðr (the trickster Loki is behind the whole thing). So Höðr and Hæðcyn both kill their brothers, and bad things are in store for them, even though they are basically innocent. That should tell you a lot about how bad the Anglo-Saxons found kin-killing.

(Kin-killing, by the way, is a sensitive topic for Gardner himself. When he was eleven years old, he accidentally ran over and killed his brother with a tractor on the family farm.)

But the bad blood doesn't stop there. Maybe the most well-known kin-killer in both the poem and in Gardner's novel is the biblical Cain, a jealous man who murders his brother Abel. So Gardner's drawing on a long tradition when he has Beowulf call Unferth out: "I don't recall hearing any glorious deeds of yours, except that you murdered your brothers. You'll prowl the stalagmites of hell for that, friend Unferth—clever though you are" (162).

We don't need to know much more than that, because this one act of kin-killing tells us as much about Unferth and his role in the novel as we need to know. Wealtheow may well be willing to overlook Unferth's guilt because she is a dazzling angel, but everyone else knows the score when it comes down to it.

Damage Control

So it's no surprise to find Unferth drinking too much mead and glaring at the other thanes in the hall, or to see his "companions" making snarky comments behind his back. Nor can we really blame Unferth for trying to fix his reputation by beating up on Grendel—he totally wants to be remembered for something other than murdering his nearest and dearest. Note his challenge to Grendel: "Prepare to fall, foul thing! This red hour makes your reputation or mine!" (83).

But there's something even more complex going on in all of his macho posturing. Unferth is trying to convince himself that he's better than just a dirty kin-killer:

Except in the life of a hero, the whole world's meaningless. The hero sees values beyond what's possible. That's the nature of a hero. It kills him, of course, ultimately. But it makes the whole struggle of humanity worthwhile. (89)

It's as if Unferth has come across the "Hero Manual" in the lounge in Hart and has decided that becoming a hero—that is, killing Grendel—is his best chance to clear his name. He knows he has to be the hero in order to do this—he really has to buy into the whole thing for it to work.

Grendel sees to it that this never happens. He won't play Unferth's games.

Mirror, Mirror...

Grendel and Unferth, then, are both outcasts—and pretty much for the same reason. While Grendel hasn't offed any sibs (that we know of), he's playing Hæðcyn to Unferth's Cain: he isn't directly guilty of murder like Unferth, but he suffers the same consequences.

By making these characters literally face off, Gardner makes us more aware of how much they reflect each other—and how much they don't. Grendel, for instance, is much more candid about his monstrosity than Unferth is about his own. The result? We appreciate Grendel's honesty and identify with his confusion and misery in a way we never could with Unferth.

Gardner uses this connection to build sympathy for Grendel, but he has no desire to change our opinion of Unferth, who has willfully broken a major cultural taboo. While Grendel may call himself "evil" in his thoughts and even behave wickedly toward humans, he's not unappealing as a character. On the other hand, Gardner takes every opportunity to show us Unferth's repellent nature: he is "darkness made visible" (97) and "ugly as a spider" (103).

Wealtheow may want to keep the peace and cover for her thane, but blood will always be on Unferth's hands.

Something's Rotten in Denmark

As you can see, to understand Unferth and his role in this novel, you've really got to read between the lines. He's not just a dude with a bad attitude: he's a symptom of a much larger ill. Hrothgar may have the moves, the organization, and the penchant for violence to form a prosperous kingdom. But it's clear that he can't sustain it on the backs of drunken boasters with questionable backgrounds. The alarm bells are meant to be going off in our heads when we see that someone like Unferth is Hrothgar's right hand man.

If Unferth is the best he can do, Hrothgar's time might, in fact, be at an end.