Exodus Translation and Introduction

The Anglo-Saxon poetic version of Exodus 12:29-15:27 is found in The Junius Manuscript, one of the four manuscripts containing most of what is left to us of Anglo-Saxon poetry. It follows Genesis and is followed in turn by Daniel and Christ and Satan. Critics find it to be one of the most powerful of the Anglo-Saxon epic poems, comparable to Beowulf in its artistry and narrative strength.

Anglo-Saxon poetic renderings of biblical stories tend to recast those stories in the terms of Germanic culture, and Exodus is no exception. The poem sings in Anglo-Saxon images, meter, and wording the story of the Israelites’ crossing of the Red Sea. The wording in particular reflects Germanic culture, particularly the legal aspects of Anglo-Saxon life and the myth of the Anglo-Saxons as sea-faring immigrants, originating with the early history of Britain written by Gildas. The poem also emphasizes the heroic and comitatic elements of Anglo-Saxon, stressing the heroic leadership of Moses and the dire malice of Pharaoh and his Egyptian army. Like “Dream of the Rood” it reshapes the biblical story in the image of the Anglo-Saxon comitatic tribal values. A comparison of the poem to the biblical version raises interesting questions about why the Anglo-Saxon poet chose to omit so many details and change or add others. In particular, critics have had much discussion about the addition of the stories of Noah’s flood and Abraham and Isaac in lines 362-446. Perhaps you can figure out what they are doing there. Also, considering the omissions that the Anglo-Saxon poet made and his other seemingly minor changes in detail is a good way to develop a deeper understanding of Anglo-Saxon values and concerns.

Peter J. Lucas argues that the Junius manuscript was created at Malmesbury about the year 1000 (Lucas 35). It eventually found its way into the hands of the early Anglo-Saxon scholar Franciscus Junius, a friend of Milton’s, and upon his death was bequeathed to the Bodleian library in Oxford, where it still remains.

The poem itself Lucas dates to about the year 800 and was probably written by someone with monkish training, since it exhibits clear knowledge of not only the bible but also of various exegetical commentaries on not just Exodus but other books of both the Hebrew and Christian bibles. It is likely that the poem was composed first for oral presentation and then collected into the manuscript for some other audience and purpose, possibly for entertainment during meal times at a monastery, or by a monk for court entertainment and Christian education.

All of the poems in the Junius manuscript seem to have two main purposes—to retell the biblical stories for a Germanic audience, and to stress what it means to have faith in the Christian God and what happens to those who repudiate that faith. It is possible, then, that the poems were composed to strengthen newly converted or under-educated Christians by clarifying both the history and the doctrine of the Christian faith. Certainly even by the year 1000 when most of Europe had embraced Christianity, there would have been reason to remind the Germanic Christians of the value of the Christian faith and to warn them against any remnants of paganism that tempted them from that faith. One would certainly NOT like to end up as the Egyptians do in this tale.

In spite of the poet’s knowledge of exegetical commentary and quite sophisticated elements of Christian theology, Exodus does not depend upon its audience to be aware of that theology in order to respond deeply to the poem’s drama and poetry. Besides the energetic characterization of the Israelites and the Egyptians, the poem is marked by vivid metaphors and unusual kennings (words created by joining two other words) that reflect the Germanic heritage of the poet. These devices create a combination of Latinized Christian knowledge and Germanic culture that gives the poem a vibrancy unsurpassed even by the more heavily Germanic Beowulf.

For a thorough discussion of the manuscript, see The Junius Manuscript, ed. George Philip Krapp. Anglo-Saxon Poetic Records I. New York: Columbia UP, 1931 and Exodus, ed. Peter J. Lucas, London: U Exeter P, 1994 (available through OhioLink).

For other discussions of Exodus, see the bibliography at the end of this document.

The seas appeared all bloody to them; through that they were troubled in war-craft.

They victory-made by sword-tales, after they went forth in war against that army;

[1] The previous king of long ago was the pharaoh whom Joseph (of the Technicolor dream coat) served after he was left by his twelve jealous brothers to die in a hole in the desert. As you may recall, he was taken up by a caravan heading to Egypt, where he eventually rose to the position of head administrator for the Pharaoh’s court. He learned in a dream sent to him by God that a famine was coming and was responsible for encouraging the Pharaoh to store up grain in preparation for that famine. When Joseph’s brothers suffered from the famine and came begging to Egypt, Joseph was the one they met with. He forgave them and got the Pharaoh to invite all the Israelites to come to Egypt to live and get relief from the famine. Joseph’s Pharaoh promised to treat the Israelites like his own people, but when he died, the subsequent Pharaohs gradually turned the Israelites into slaves. They remained slaves for several generations until Moses reasserted their original rights to freedom and led them back to Israel.

[2] halig treowa: holy troth/tree—possible pun on promise/cross here. It would be highly anachronistic for Noah to be holding the cross in his heart, but not for the poet to be making the connection between Noah’s promise of salvation from God and the promise of salvation signified by the cross.

[3] Lagustreamas: lagu can mean either “laws” or “surface of the sea.” Literally, Noah is traveling over the streams of the sea’s surface, but metaphorically, he is being held afloat by God’s ordinance/laws/covenant.

[4] Again, the pun in heahtreaow: high covenant/high cross

[5] Mæđelstede refers to either an assembly place or a battlefield. I’ve suggested here also a pun on mæđ or “virtue, respect, reverence, goodness” (see Clark-Hall, 227). This altar is both a place of reverence and an emotional battleground for Abraham, as he faces the death of his son in the service of God.

[6] That is, the devil.

[7] The word here is eaferan rather than eaforan which means “son” or “posterity.” Ea-feran would literally mean a stream-traveler, connecting Isaac to both Noah and the Israelites, whom we last left heading through the Red Sea. Another pun is operating here, I believe.

[8] Again, treaow for “truth,” or “tree—cross.” So, the poet is asking, “How is it that man needed the cross, after this covenant of God to Abraham?” Sunu mannes recalls also Jesus’s title as “the son of Man.” So, “how is it that the son of Man needed the tree after this covenant with Abraham?” Good question. Silly, stupid humans.

[9] Be sæm tweonum: Possible pun on sæm(sea)/sema (arbitrator, judge) and twe (two)/tweonum (doubt), suggesting, perhaps, “But they sit still, in doubt of the arbitrator (God).” Hence the suggestion is that the Israelites sit by the sea, doubting God’s righteous judgment and hence fearing to cross the parted waters.

[10] Lagu means “water” when it’s masculine and “law, ordinance, rule, regulation” when it’s feminine. Since there are no gender identifiers in the sentence, it can be taken as a pun. The sea and God’s ordinance are simultaneously destroying the Egyptians.

[11] Pun here on wæga (“wave”) and wega (paths). The brown paths turned out to be waves.

[12] Dægword (day-word) is corrected in the manuscript to dæg weorc (day’s work). I suspect this could be yet another pun.

[13] Beam can also mean “cross.”