BEOWULF: BRO!
- Maria Dahvana Headley’s Modern, Feminist Take on the Epic -
Here in the once-proud stronghold of serious study, where brains used to be bent over real ideas instead of the latest ideological trend, we’re now being asked—no, told—to take seriously Maria Dahvana Headley’s 2020 version of Beowulf. And let me be blunt: I’m tired. Tired of every classic text being twisted into a vehicle for someone’s political agenda. This isn’t translation—it’s propaganda.
If you’ve ever slogged through the original Old English—tough, raw, unapologetically masculine—you know what Beowulf is about. It’s a story of warriors, monsters, glory, and sacrifice. It speaks in the voice of a time when strength mattered, when honour meant something. But Headley? She kicks open the door to the mead hall like she’s walking into a frat party, and yells “Bro!” as her opening line. No kidding. “Bro.”
From there, it only gets worse. The whole thing reads like it was written for Twitter, or maybe a gender studies seminar. Headley doesn’t just want to modernise the language—she wants to rewrite the entire soul of the poem. Suddenly, it’s all about giving women more voice, calling out “toxic masculinity,” and dragging the original heroes through the mud. What once was a tale of epic bravery now gets filtered through a feminist lens, where heroism is suspect and masculine strength is just violence in disguise.
And yes, she gives the women more “agency”—whatever that means this week. Wealtheow, instead of being the composed, dutiful queen, is now portrayed as a power broker manoeuvring through patriarchy. It’s not enough to honour the roles these women played in the context of their time—Headley needs to retrofit them to match modern sensibilities. It’s like rewriting history and calling it justice.
She doesn’t stop there. Beowulf himself, once the embodiment of courage, is now just another man stumbling through his own ego, reduced to some kind of emotionally complex antihero. Every time he swings a sword, we’re nudged to question if it’s really “heroic” or just “toxic.” Apparently, it’s not okay anymore for a man to fight a monster without a lecture on power dynamics.
And just in case the ideological slant wasn’t obvious enough, she tries to draw parallels between the ancient world and our supposedly ruined modern one, talking about greed, environmental collapse, and corrupt politics. The subtext might as well be blinking in neon: “See? Men haven’t changed. The problem is masculinity.” It’s a relentless commentary dressed up as a poem.
Is it a translation? Barely. Is it creative writing with a political agenda? Absolutely. And sure, some people will cheer for it. They’ll say it’s bold, fresh, “important.” But let’s not kid ourselves—it’s not Beowulf. It’s a modern manifesto stitched onto an ancient epic like a poorly matched patch on battle-worn armour.
Still, I’ll give her this: Headley knows how to provoke a reaction. And maybe that’s the point—controversy sells. She’s dragged Beowulf into the 21st century kicking and screaming, and whether you think that’s progress or cultural vandalism probably says a lot about where you stand on the current state of literature.
As for me? I’ll stick with the old translations—the ones that respect the original spirit of the poem, that understand strength without shame and heroism without irony. Call me old-fashioned. I’ll wear it like armour.
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