“And the men brought the death”
I’m gonna ‘unlock my wordhoard’ here people.
I have often contemplated changing my name to Hildegard, but never so much as when my first class of the semester began last Thursday.
Old English Language and Literature was the name of the class, one of the four options for my English Degree’s Linguistic Requirement (yes I have to take two semesters French, but on top of foreign language, I must also dissect the ever living shit out of my own language. I love linguistics, but god damn I do NOT want to sit through Modern English class. Hell no). The class name itself won me over, given I love that era in history, but upon settling in for our first lecture, we found out Literature had very little to do with this class.
The name of the class SHOULD be:
Anglo-Saxon 101
Yep, I’m currently cramming Anglo-Saxon vocabulary into my notebook for future quizzes and translations. I’m so chuffed, there aren’t words to describe the fury of my lust for further exploration. The Professor is contemplating teaching “Anglo-Saxon 201″ next semester, (The Beowulf Workshop, which will be entirely composed of learning the language of and translating Beowulf. Do you know me well enough to know I want to take that class?)
Anyway, my point!
This is what I am learning to read, speak, and understand:
“þa weras ðæs deað brohton.”
To translate the above phrase from our first excercise; “The men brought the death.”
That’s my kind of sentence.
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