Monday 19 March 2018

Just Say It


One part of Beowulf that I found interesting but also confused me, was the references to religion. Because the story is set in Denmark, in an age that seems like the Viking age, one would believe that the characters in Beowulf believed in Norse mythology, but while reading the poem, I couldn’t find any actual references to Norse mythology. The only religious references that I found, where Christian ones.
To me it felt like the author of the poem didn’t want to talk about paganism. We all get the feeling that it’s there, but the author doesn’t actually talk about it. There are no references to Thor or Odin, and neither to Valhalla, which is where Beowulf himself would go since he died in battle. The poem makes no reference to this, and instead says that the people in Denmark at that time believed there was nothing coming after death. I, as a Norwegian who grew up with the Norse myths, find this quite strange.
What I have seen, though, is similar tendencies in today’s society. We like to say we have included a specific theme in stories, but is it always there? Take J. K. Rowling, she’s one of the people who’s been doing this the most lately. She has been adding things to the Harry Potter universe after the last book was published. But does that count?
Does it count as LGBTQA+ representation to say, after the series is finished, that she meant to make Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas a couple, when she didn’t? Or does it count to say that there are Jewish students at Hogwarts, when none are mentioned in the actual books? She has also stated, outside of the source material, that Dumbledore is in fact gay and had a crush on Grindelwald, but that it’s not important to address it in the new movie that is going to be about Dumbledore and Grindelwald when they were young.
When Beowulf was written, people didn’t talk about other religions because of accusations of heresy. Today, main stream media don’t want to talk about LGBTQA+ issues because they’re afraid of homophobes. Stop beating around the bush, and just say it.

Sunday 18 March 2018

We the Sheeple


When discussing Jane Austen’s book Pride and Prejudice, Mr Bingley isn’t the guy people talk the most about. That’s why I want to talk a bit about him in this blog post. As I see it, Mr Bingley shares a lot of similarities with today’s youth. We’re all sheeple.
Sometimes I wonder how much trouble could have been spared if Mr Bingley decided to think for himself. If Mr Bingley had decided to listen to his own feelings and been surer about what he thought was the truth, a lot of the problems in the book could have been solved. If he hadn’t blindly listened to his sisters and Mr Darcy, and gone back to Netherfield after his London trip and married Jane, he could have spared himself, but also Jane and at the same time Elizabeth, a lot of grief.
I’m not trying to say that listening to your friends and family is a bad idea. What I’m trying to say is that we shouldn’t blindly trust anyone. Especially if we’re not hundred percent certain that what they are saying is correct. Critical thinking is very important. Listen to the people around you, take it into consideration when you make your decision, but in the end, it’s your decision. Don’t let anyone make it for you, like Mr Bingley did.
This is a problem with the youth today. We are afraid of making our own decisions. We don’t like the responsibility of having to make choices, or we don’t want the repercussions making choices others don’t like will lead to. Instead we follow our friends or family blindly and trust in their every move. But we, as Mr Bingley, need to learn to become independent and make our own choices. We need to learn how to say: “This is what I want. Deal with it.”

Wednesday 7 February 2018

The "Noble" Knights of the Round Table


After the #MeToo campaign, I found it interesting to read Sir Thomas Malory’s Le Morte Darthur. The knights of the Round Table are often seen as the example of nobility and chivalry, but are they really as good role models as we think?
These noble and gentlemanly knights were supposed to fight for and protect women. The damsels in distress. And while they did that to some degree, they also preyed upon them. Let’s take King Pellinore as an example. He rapes a woman, and when he years later learns that the woman got a child with him, he is applauded for having gotten such a strong and good son, and the woman is told to be proud. She is told to be proud of having been raped.
Then there’s Sir Pelleas, who stalks the woman he says he loves and won’t take no for an answer. Merlin, the sorcerer, exhibits similar behaviour while courting Nenive, and is generally creepy towards her. In the end, she has to trap him under a stone by sorcery to get rid of him.
At last, but not least, there’s the noblest of them all, Sir Lancelot and King Arthur. Lancelot sleeps with the king’s wife and lies about it. King Arthur sleeps with his own sister and get’s a child with her.
“But people don’t act like this anymore,” I can hear you shouting from the back of the room. “Not all men!” No, but enough people, enough men, think this is ok behaviour since they made a guy, who said he could grab women by the pussy because he’s famous, the most powerful man in the world.
These are the “noble” knights of the Round Table. Is this really the behaviour we want to see in our role models? Or maybe we should put the time of knights and swordfights behind us and start looking forward to a time when men treat women as equals and stop treating this behaviour as ok.