Big Bold Beowulf

By Geoff Boxell

When South London schoolboy Jamie goes to Wimbledon to photocopy some pictures for his school project on the Old English poem 'Beowulf', he little thinks that his life will never quite be the same again.
Deciding to exchange his bus fare home for a hamburger, Jamie somehow ends up in the company of a very weird old man for whom everything seems to have stopped in the time of the Anglo-Saxons.
After being thrown out of the hamburger bar for creating a disturbance, the pair heads for Wimbledon Common.
In between 'gathering tributes' of what seem to be other people's unattended food and drinks Grimm, the old man, tells Jamie what he claims to be an eye witness account of the story of Beowulf and the hero's battles with the monster Grendel and Grendel's mother in the damp of a Danish bog.
Although Grimm's version is not quite the same as that told in the poem he claims that it is all true, well almost true.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Geoff Boxell
• Release date: Jul 21, 2015
• ISBN: 9780473332051

Geoff Boxell

G'day,At the age of seven I asked my mother about King Richard the Lion Heart. Her response was to give me an historical text book she was reading on the subject and tell him to find out for myself! From then on I have been addicted to English history. After leaving school, where the history topics I studied were dictated by my need to pass exams, I concentrated my efforts on the 17th century, with especial interest in the Civil War and Cromwell's Protectorate. However, in the mid '90's I changed direction and began studying Anglo-Saxon history. Since then the Hundred Years War, in particular the events in the reigns of Edward III and Richard II have caught my interest. As a result of this I am now involved with the SCA Canton of Cluain, Barony of Ildhafn, Kingdom of Lochac. I have more than one persona, but my usual one is that of a yeoman archer in the retinue of Sir Allan de Buxhall, KG, Constable of the Tower of London. I run my own Household within the Barony - The Wulfings.Until Government cut backs I regularly acted as a guest lecturer for the Waikato University covering English history topics from the coming of the English to the Restoration.Whilst I spent most of my early career in telecommunications, I later joined the University of Waikato running an experimental ‘virtual’ unit providing education in technology management and innovation. After leaving the University I worked on various technology related contracts but am now retired.I am active Christian and attend the Te Awamutu Bible Chapel. For many years I have been involved in youth work for the church.Born in England, my wife and I moved to New Zealand in 1969. We have three sons and five grandchildren. We live on a large section with lots of trees and flowers and spend a lot of our time working in the garden. Naturally, as an archer, I have an archery butt at the bottom of the grounds.

Book preview

Big

Bold

Beowulf

(an almost true story)

by

Geoff Boxell

ISBN: 978-0-473-33205-1

Published by Wendlewulf Productions at Smashwords 2015

PRINTING HISTORY

Wendlewulf Productions 2002

Copyright GR Boxell 2002

Cover by John Clark ([e-mail])

Condition of Sale

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Dedication

This book is dedicated to Mr Paige, who was my teacher in my first year at Earlsfield Junior Boys School. Amongst the many stories Mr Paige taught my class mates and I were the story of Beowulf, the story of Hengest and the story of the Battle of Hastings. The fact that I can still recall him telling those tales shews what a brilliant teacher he was. It was only years later that I realised the irony that my first taste of early English history had come from a man who was an Anglo-Indian!

Via another ex-pupil of Mr Paige I recently heard that he died a few years ago. Mr Paige was a well-loved teacher whom those in his care, myself included, were proud to call 'Sir'.

Foreword

This book is the result of the tangled woven web of Wyrd.

I give lectures and talks in early English history, here in New Zealand. As a result I get invited to mediaeval banquets to tell stories of old England and the English.

I was/am a Rocker and despite the passing of the years there is still an extensive network formed around those of us who hung out at Mordon. One of the Rocker Birds, Twink, had read my two published novels and then been amused by some of the scripts for my mediaeval banquet tales. She felt that there was a demand for old English tales written for youngsters and asked me to write one for her. Given a bit of local knowledge of the area, I decided to base it in Wimbledon, London. Another Bird, Yvonne, worked at Wimbledon and was able to update me on the shops and the current layout of the Broadway. One of the Lads, Gurn, regularly visits an ex-neighbour near the windmill on Wimbledon Common and was able to give me information that I needed for this area. Looking for photographs, I came across the Web site of Dr Ian Howard. Ian has been helpful with more than just photos.

Beowulf is the longest existent poem in Old English. The date that it was composed is unknown, as is that date when the oral version was first written down. Whilst much of the story it tells can be regarded as legend, it includes historically verifiable incidents, thus shewing that even the 'legend' part of the tale may well have a historical foundation.

I have refused to avoid long or old words. As a boy my teachers never avoided them; they pointed me towards a dictionary! Through their teaching I have a large word-hoard and am aware of the great heritage that I have in the English language. I have also deliberately used three old English letters and their pronunciation is as follows:

Æ æ: Asc - flat 'a' as in Alfred.

Ð ð: Eth - 'th' with tongue behind the teeth as in teeth.

Þ þ: Thorn - 'th' with tongue between teeth as in 'thorn'.

Chapter 1: The Old Man

Jamie came out of Snappy Shots clutching the paper bag with the photocopying he needed for his school assignment. He looked up Wimbledon Broadway towards the railway station.

'Should I walk up there now for the 93 bus to get back home, or can I spend some time ambling around the shopping centre?' he mused. He glanced around quickly to make sure no one had heard the conversation he had just had with himself. Re-assured, he scuffed the heels of his rather worn trainers on the curb as he watched the traffic entering the one-way system. He turned his head towards the brightly lit Burger King next door to the shop he had just left; his eyes were drawn to it like iron to a magnet. In his pocket he jingled the coins that his mother had given him for the bus-fare and was tempted to change their fate. Just then an old man staggered out of the Prince of Wales pub next door. The boot of a younger man, who yelled out something before going back into the pub, had assisted the old man's exit. The younger man's words were lost to Jamie in the sound of the traffic, but he smiled as the old man raised his fist to his now gone assailant. "To eat, or not to eat: that is the question! Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the rumbling of the guts on a bus or to leg it back home and eat the bus fare….' Jamie was suddenly aware of a woman