Dragonslayers: Beowulf and Rostam

“So Higelac’s liegeman,

Good amid Geatmen, of Grendel’s achievements

Heard in his home: of heroes then living

He was stoutest and strongest, sturdy and noble.”

Beowulf is the earliest European vernacular epic, recorded by an unknown author in what is believed to be the 8th century, though the only known manuscript dates to the 1000s. The context in which it was created is similar to Ferdowsi’s Book of Kings— it is an account of the heroes and stories of the writer’s pre-conversion culture. Unlike the Shahnameh, however, which is a compilation of many stories recorded in Ferdowsi’s unique poetic style, Beowulf is most likely a direct transcription of an existing Viking poem, put to paper by a Christian author. Both contain references to “God”, a monotheistic deity, that are almost certainly additions by Ferdowsi and the monk to make the Pagan heroes more relatable (and redeemable) to their contemporary readers.

Much shorter than the Shahnameh, Beowulf follows its titular hero across three great conquests and ends with his death; ominous imagery always hangs over the hero’s head, so pervasive that J.R.R. Tolkien once suggested the poem was “more elegy than epic”. Beowulf himself, however, is always the pinnacle of then-Germanic ideals: altruistic, vengeance-taking, and loyal. His three adversaries are all monstrous, making him a champion of humanity, and he never seeks glory or power beyond his social station. He is constantly described by his peers as physically massive and attractive, prefers fighting with his bare hands and primitive weapons, and utilizes trickery to gain an edge over Grendel. In all of these ways and more, Beowulf shares many similarities with Ferdowsi’s Rostam. This essay will thus serve as an exploration of the two heroes, the archetypal traits that they share, and what broader lessons their respective poets may be trying to impart on a reader by recording these oral stories to page. While there is some preexisting scholarship on the role of fate in both Beowulf’s and Rostam’s stories, I will avoid that topic and instead focus on making this essay my own original analysis, based on what comparisons I personally see between the two epics.

“The battle-champions Beowulf title.

They make this petition: with thee, O my chieftain,

To be granted a conference; O gracious King Hrothgar,

Friendly answer refuse not to give them!

In war-trappings weeded worthy they seem

Of earls to be honored; sure the atheling is doughty

Who headed the heroes hitherward coming.”

Rostam is one of the first champions of the Shahnameh who is not also a king, representing a shift between rightful rulers and the heroes who support their claim. Rostam (and, by extension, his family of Sam, Zal, and Rudabeh) exist in a liminal orbit around the Persian royal family, headed by Kay Kavus for most of Rostam’s life. Though they often disagree on affairs of the kingdom, Rostam is steadfast in his loyalty to Kavus and rejects any suggestion that he or his family should be sovereign instead.

The hero Beowulf is similarly subservient, despite being the undisputed hero of the poem. A prince of a neighboring Geats tribe (making him his own liminal figure), Beowulf hears of the troubles of King Hrothgar and travels to Heorot, Hrothgar’s hall. The hero is obedient and respectful to Hrothgar, and is in turn welcomed with praise and a feast. Even after multiple instances of saving Heorot (and access to the Geats’ superior army), Beowulf makes no attempt on Hrothgar’s throne. He is content in the role of honored hero, and returns to his own, adjacent kingdom when the work is done.

In both stories, the hero upholds the sovereignty of the kingship. Their reward is material wealth from the king they save, and immortalization in epic poetry. They do not request these things, however. Rostam’s campaign against Mazanderan and Beowulf’s journey to Heorot are both inspired by a sense of duty to authority that is culturally tied to their honor and masculinity. In a previous essay, I discussed how Rostam’s Seven Trials in Mazandaran represent a coming-of-age journey for him— Beowulf, too, is a young, undecorated hero who transforms throughout the process of saving Heorot, earning himself renown and followers.

Across cultures, this intrinsic connection between manhood and loyalty is exemplified in the stories preserved by writers of the times. Especially in the case of Beowulf— an oral story passed down by storytellers across generations— these poems were teaching tools for young men. In a world of centralized kingship supported by a class of wealthy and ambitious warriors, it would benefit monarchs to patronize and spread stories in which the young hero is strictly loyal to his king, and is in turn rewarded by God and country. Simultaneously, such stories serve to remind kings of their social contract to be open-handed with their warriors. Kay Kavus inevitably encounters dire straits whenever he rebukes Rostam, and must make amends with lavish gifts and renewed vows of friendship. Hrothgar is careful never to offend Beowulf, offering him hospitality, food, and lodging for Beowulf’s promise to fight Grendel. The social contract is supported by all parties.

“The trav’ler-at-twilight came tramping and striding.

The warriors were sleeping who should watch the horned-building,

One only excepted.”

Rostam and Beowulf are both unusual heroes. Unlike other Iranian warriors and Vikings, Rostam and Beowulf engage in trickery to defeat their foes. Rostam obscures his name, masquerades as a merchant, and invents false rules of combat to fool Sohrab. Beowulf feigns sleep in order to fool Grendel and gain the upperhand. Strangely, these deceptions are not framed as dishonorable. In Snorri Sturluson’s The Prose Edda, Loki’s trickery— though often necessary for the gods to prevail— is heavily condemned. Trickery is also highly feminized; Loki’s masculinity often comes into question, sometimes extremely literally: one of Loki’s most famous tricks is his luring of a giant’s guard-stallion by transforming into a mare, leading to his birthing of a horse offspring. For this, Loki is mocked ruthlessly by the other gods.

Deception is not treated quite as harshly in Ferdowsi’s Shahnameh, but honesty and straight-forward conduct in battle and court is typical of heroic figures like Feraydun, Sam, and Khosrow. Yet both Rostam and Beowulf escape their poet’s criticism and are instead praised for ingenuity.

One reason for this may again refer to the idea of liminality. Rostam is an outsider to the Iranian court, born with the aid of a Simurgh and descended from Zahhak. In my previous essay, I delved deeper into what Rostam is and is not, but whatever else he may be, he will always be partially a foreigner. This grants him some degree of freedom from the rigid expectations of Iranian hero-kings. Similarly, Beowulf is not a Dane or member of Hrothgar’s hall; he is able to conduct himself contrary to certain traditions (such as honorable combat) without reflecting poorly on the local king.

Beowulf is furthermore forgiven by his “type” of enemy: monsters. Grendel is due no hospitality as he is a “descendant of Cain” (most likely an addition by the monk scribe), a giant, and a cannibal. Beowulf later slays Grendel’s mother, who, in the Norse tradition, took revenge for the death of her kin against Hrothgar’s kingdom. Even the dragon that fatally wounds Beowulf is only rampaging across the land because a warrior stole treasure from its hoard. The poet makes it clear that monsters are not “allowed” to take revenge on humans. Therefore, it is “allowed” for a hero to deceive, trap, and slay them. If mutual agreement of hospitality and wergild shared between human tribes does not extend to the monstrous, the rules of proper combat are not applied, either.

Rostam likewise often fights the “other”. His campaign against Mazanderan is quite literally against monsters— including a dragon and multiple fearsome demons— but even his later battles will pit him against Turians, invaders, and foreigners to the court. Unlike the cycle of kings that follows Goshtasp’s conversion, which is rife with civil war, assassination, and kinslaying, Rostam almost exclusively wars against the enemies of Iran. As liminal figures themselves, Beowulf and Rostam are both uniquely positioned to be the vanguard of their kingdoms, able to win battles that cannot be waged under traditional rules. They exist externally, and combat external threats.

For the Norse, heroes like Beowulf were a great comfort. The Nordic worldview consisted of the combined force of Asgard (realm of gods) and Midgard (realm of humans) in an eternal struggle against Utgard, the natural and unordered world. Dragons and giants (like Grendel) come from Utgard to terrorize Midgard, and it was understood by all Norse tribes that Utgard would someday overtake the ordered half of the universe in a cataclysmic apocalypse. Heroes that were able to fight back these forces were thus humanity’s sole hope. A poem recanting those victories was both a reassurance and a source of pride.

Rostam is also a source of national pride. Though he does not always combat monsters, he is always defending Iranian identity and Iran’s existence. His willingness to employ unusual tactics and the strangeness of his origin story all add to his appeal as a mythological hero. In Ferdowsi’s quest to preserve and celebrate Iran, he has created a champion that balances perfectly between myths and magic, and the very real struggle of Iranian people to preserve their nation.

“I hold me no meaner in matters of prowess,

In warlike achievements, than Grendel does himself;

Hence I seek not with sword-edge to sooth him to slumber,

Of life to bereave him, though well I am able.”

Unlike their contemporaries, both Beowulf and Rostam engage in more “primitive” forms of combat. Rostam is prone to fighting with his fists, pulling enemies from their saddles, or bashing opponents with an ox-headed mace. Beowulf, though a skilled swordsman, decides to fight Grendel in hand-to-hand combat, eventually ripping off the giant’s arm using his bare hands. This is connected to their utilization of trickery to overcome opponents, but rather than tying into their identities as outsiders, I believe this barbarism is instead indicative of a warrior’s unique brand of masculinity. 

Rostam is among the first heroes to not also be a king— unlike a king, he is not expected to be well-versed in courtly negotiation or astrology. Since his father, Zal, is the ruler of Zabol, Rostam is even further removed from the expectations of sovereignty. Beowulf, too, does not need to worry about maintaining order in his tribe or distributing wealth among his people when in Heorot. Both heroes are free to embrace “primal” masculinity, separated from expectations of civility. It’s also interesting to note that both defeat their rival (the White Demon and Grendel, respectively) through dismemberment. I’ve written about the castration symbolism behind dismemberment and Rostam’s figurative “rebirth” in the cave; the same analysis can be applied to Beowulf’s violent ripping of Grendel’s arm, which bears its own similarities to a rite of passage into manhood.

While a reader (or listener) would likely enjoy the tale of a man unbridled from society, the reason for this physicality may lie less in the intentions of the authors to make a “macho” hero (afterall, generosity and courtliness were admirable traits), and more in the origins of these non-ruling warrior characters themselves.

Though Beowulf was probably recorded in writing in the 8th century, the poem itself is thought to have been composed several centuries earlier. The figure of Beowulf is likely older still, transplanted into what was the poet’s then-modern setting. This makes him an anarchistic figure, still relying on ancient techniques and standards of combat. More than a historical figure, he seems enigmatic of mankind’s literal grapple against Utgard, less a person and perhaps a personification of the eternal struggle against nature, recontextualized as a foreign prince from the perspective of the Danes he saves.

Rostam is also an amalgam of myths compiled by Ferdowsi. His connection to figures like Seyavash, which are traceable back to their fertility cult roots, adds to the sense of age and mythology surrounding him. Many aspects of Rostam— birth aided by the Simurgh, slaying a dragon, an extramarital encounter— feel like holdovers from stories much older than Ferdowsi’s lifetime. Neither he nor Beowulf are truly embodiments of the ideal man in the poet’s time, but rather remnants of the history preceding them.

A final note of this “primitive” aspect of both heroes is their association with animals. My previous essay delved into the relationship between Rostam and Rakhsh, as well as his own, dragon-like qualities. This animalism gives Ferdowsi’s readers an immediate sense of what Rostam is, and leads them to wonder what good or evil he may be capable of, whether he will take after Zahhak or Sam or something else altogether. Beowulf, too, has a connection to animals: his name. “Beowulf” is a kenning that means “bee-wolf”, a euphemism for bear. Bears were both feared and revered in Nordic culture, invoked by warriors known as berserkirs (“bear-shirts”) and yet so dangerous they were only spoken of through kennings to avoid summoning one with its true name. To a Nordic listener of this poem, the name Beowulf would immediately tell them the hero was ferocious and wild, further connecting him to the eternal struggle against Utgard and a sense of primitivism. 

“There were heard very often

Beowulf’s praises; many often asserted

That neither south nor north, in the circuit of waters,

O’er outstretching earth-plain, none other was better

’Mid bearers of war-shields, more worthy to govern,

’Neath the arch of the ether.”

In both the Shahnameh and Norse poetic epics, heroes are described as physically beautiful. Even beyond their royal farr, Ferdowsi’s kings and heroes are tall as cypress trees, broad as the ravaging lion, with dark hair that smells of musk. Even from childhood, characters like Feraydun, Rostam, and Khosrow are described as physically massive and alluring. Beauty is valued in both men and women; evil is often reflected in monstrous characteristics (such as Zahhak) or “ugly” appearances, seen several times right before the fall of the Sasanian dynasty.

The Norse were less concerned with a person’s natural beauty, and instead valued extravagant clothes, jewelry, and cleanliness. Beowulf, however, is consistently described by both the narrator and fellow characters as unmatched in physique and handsomeness. There is even a humorous moment where all of Heorot believes Beowulf to be more attractive and kingly than Hrothgar, but keeps quiet to protect the king’s pride. Like Rostam, he is also unusually large and broad, considered the strongest of all living Geatmen.

It is not uncommon for storytellers to depict their heroes as attractive. Especially when Ferdowsi associates beauty and farr with goodness, we expect Rostam to be traditionally handsome. However, I still think it’s worth noting these similar descriptions. In both poems, special attention is paid to the size of the hero, who is larger and heavier than their peers. This separates them from “normal people”, and emphasizes that they are uniquely qualified for their heroic deeds. The oral tradition surrounding these stories lends itself to such dramatic descriptions, and creates an image in the mind’s eyes that would hint to the audience that Rostam and Beowulf are superhuman figures and forces of nature in their own right. 

“Then she turned by the bench where her sons were carousing,

Hrethric and Hrothmund, and the heroes’ offspring,

The war-youth together; there the good one was sitting

’Twixt the brothers twain, Beowulf Geatman.”

Though their physique and fighting prowess is the “peak” of masculinity to their respective audiences, neither Rostam nor Beowulf satisfy all the expected duties of a man. Of course, I am referring to their seemingly eternal “bachelor” status. Rostam has a bit more luck than Beowulf; he has a “one-night stand” with Tamina, leading to the birth of his son, Sohrab, who he later kills in a tragic duel. Much later in life, he is depicted with another son, Faramarz, but no mention of a wife or harem is ever made. This is unusual for heroes of the Shahnameh, who are highly concerned with lineage continuation and seem eager to populate their women’s quarters with beautiful princesses. The son of Zal and Rudabeh, who have one of the greatest love stories in the Shahnameh, Rostam should have no reason not to have a love story of his own; however, Ferdowsi seems to deliberately omit any mention of permanent companion from Rostam’s life, leaving only an extramarital affair that ends in disaster.

Beowulf is even further removed from women. Throughout the course of the poem, he has no sexual encounters, no courtship, and no mention of a wife. When he dies in his old age, he has no spouse or children, passing rulership of the Geats to his kinsman, Wiglaf. From a Nordic perspective, this is a complicated decision. In the Havamal (a guide to life supposedly dictated by the gods), Odin encourages free Vikings, which included both men and women, to avoid marriage, as domestic life distracted from battlefield prowess. Those who were not campaigning, however, were eventually expected to marry and continue their lineage. The concept of kin, clan, and bloodline was vital to the Nordic social structure, and thus a person without kin (or “kin-in-law”) was at heightened risk of becoming an outcast. Especially, kings needed an intelligent, respected wife, as the reigning queen was the one who kept peace in the hall and ensured all warriors were treated fairly. Hrothgar’s wife Wealhtheow is an important character for this exact reason, as she mitigates conflict between Beowulf and a jealous warrior of Heorot.

Beowulf’s lack of queen may have even indirectly led to his downfall, as a desperate Geatman disturbs the dragon by stealing from its hoard instead of looking to Beowulf for reprieve: a task which most likely would’ve fallen on a female ruler. This may be Beowulf’s greatest flaw in the story, but the narrator does not admonish him for dying a bachelor, only mourns that he has few kinsmen left alive to honor him.

Despite their heroics, both Rostam’s and Beowulf’s stories are clouded by tragedy. Rostam encounters many sorrows through his life, experiencing the death of Sohrab, Seyavash, and Khosrow and the ransacking of his home by Esfandiyar. Beowulf’s eventual death is avoidable and poignant, as he is abandoned by his men against the dragon after a life of successful leadership over the Geats. I believe that the lack of a wife is an addition to this tragedy. For two cultures that give great importance to lineage, dying without a significant family to remember you and continue your legacy is a sad fate, especially for heroes that are so beloved by their communities. Though Rostam leaves behind a son, the remainder of his family is eventually wiped out in revenge for the death of Esfandiyar, leaving little doubt in the audience’s mind that Rostam’s bloodline has ended. 

In addition to writing moving tragedies, I believe both poets were attempting to create a sense of finality for the time period they were depicting. Rostam’s death coincides with the rise of Zoroastrianism and an entire new cast of kings, heroes, and conflicts. The mythical period of dragons and demons fades into history, and human, political drama takes the forefront. With so little known about the context surrounding the creation of Beowulf, it’s hard to theorize about the poet’s intention in writing it— however, given that it’s set several centuries before the date of creation, I think it’s reasonable to think the poet may have been preserving a memory of their own “mythical” period.

Once, there were great heroes like Rostam and Beowulf, back in the age of giants and dragons. But they left behind no progeny to carry on that superhuman legacy, and can only be remembered by the “normal” audience of these poems.

“’Twas the aged liegelord’s last-spoken word in

His musings of spirit, ere he mounted the fire,

The battle-waves burning: from his bosom departed

His soul to seek the sainted ones’ glory.”

Perhaps the greatest divergence between the building blocks of the stories of Beowulf and Rostam is their respective deaths. Rostam is fooled by his jealous half-brother and dies somewhat unceremoniously in a pit trap, although he does get the “last laugh” by tricking and then killing his half-brother in revenge. Beowulf, on the other hand, dies from wounds sustained from battling the dragon terrorizing his kingdom. One dies to a trick, and the other bravely in battle. Yet in each, there is an equal element of tragedy and triumph.

Though Rostam dies, he slays Shaghad, and his family razes the kingdom of Kabulestan in revenge for its conspiracy against Rostam. And though Beowulf is abandoned by his companions and left to face the dragon alone, he is victorious in combat and dies while contently looking upon the dragon’s hoard, which will be distributed to the people of his kingdom. The poets afford them dignity in death. They are symbols of their nations, and even when defeated they are triumphant over their enemies. Stories are composed about them and recorded for posterity, and they are remembered.

Though not identical in their stories, I believe that Beowulf and Rostam serve a similar purpose in their respective pantheons of literature: the outlander hero who slays monsters, defends the social order, and leaves behind no modern descendents. They share many fascinating parallels in their coming of age and combat strategies— perhaps holdovers from a much older, archetypal hero-myth.

I have enjoyed this process of comparison, which I believe deepened my understanding and appreciation for both characters and the poets who expertly crafted their stories. The Shahnameh contains many stories, about all sorts of people, but I was glad for the opportunity to compare my favorite of them all to a figure from my own cultural context. They have transcended Nordic or Persian delineations and truly become global heroes that anyone can see a little of themselves within.

“When forth from his body he fares to destruction.

So lamented mourning the men of the Geats,

Fond-loving vassals, the fall of their lord,

Said he was kindest of kings under heaven,

Gentlest of men, most winning of manner,

Friendliest to folk-troops and fondest of honor.”

References

“Beowulf.” Encyclopædia Britannica, Encyclopædia Britannica, inc., 7 Mar. 2024, www.britannica.com/topic/Beowulf. 

Beowulf, Translated from The Heyne-Socin by John Lesslie Hall. “Beowulf.” The Project Gutenberg eBook of Beowulf: An Anglo-Saxon Epic Poem, www.gutenberg.org/files/16328/16328-h/16328-h.htm#XI. 

Ferdowsi, Abolqasem. Shahnameh: The Persian Book of Kings. Penguin, 2006.