BEHOLD, BEOWULF

A writer’s search for the epic poem’s hero ends at a hamlet in Denmark

- ZAC O'YEAH

THE NORSE GODS AREN’T QUITE PISSING ON ME, BUT THIS DRIZZLE AIN’T BENEVOLENT EITHER: clinging to my skin like Viking hangover sweat, seeping through my shoes until I verily identify with those bog men—sacrificed corpses, mummified in soggy peat, dug up by archaeologists here and there in Scandinavia.

The haunting rawness of the hamlet of Gammel Lejre helps me imagine the Dark Ages as if they’re just around the corner. In a field of grazing horses and grassy mounds stand prehistoric gravestones—bautas—in the shape of a 282-foot-long Viking stone ship, Denmark’s largest. The surrounding mounds are tombs of unknown noblemen. I wonder: was one perhaps a barrow raised for the legendary hero Beowulf?

Long before Antonio Banderas starred in the 1999 action flick The 13th Warrior, or J.R.R. Tolkien penned The Lord of the Rings, troubadours wandered Britain’s taverns reciting the ballad of the prince from the epic poem to whoever was willing to pay for their meals. For their listeners it was unclear where the saga originated, but archaeologists have found remains here at Lejre, 40 kilometres west of Copenhagen, of the palace Heorot (‘Stag Hall’), proving that Beowulf’s setting was neither England nor Hollywood, and that the royal dwelling wasn’t a palace but a mead-hall with free-flowing tipple.

That important piece of knowledge was enough for me to board, this morning, the local from Copenhagen’s main station and ride into the stunningly beautiful Danish countryside. From the modern Lejre’s tiny station, it’s a 25-minute rural stroll to Gammel Lejre (Lejre is Norse for ‘tent camp’), in the heart of Zealand island.