Sunday, November 4

Beowulf


Madeleine wants a family walk and here we are Sunday afternoon. It is properly autumn - cold and blustery also wet.  The dog happy.  Tomorrow Guy Fawkes and, for the first time in eight years, I am not manning the BBQ pit.  There are not too many things I have done for so long.  The times are a-changin.

Madeleine: "I finished my book."
Me: "Oh? What are you reading?"
Madeleine: "Beowulf."
Me: "Cool, tell me about it."
Madeleine: "It was about a man named Beowulf."
Me:
Madeleine: "Okay. Okay. It is an old English story about this guy Beowulf, and he fights Grendel, a monster, who has been killing all of Hogarth's men in a big hall."
Me: "And then what happens?"
Madeleine: "He tears off Grendel's arm so he bleeds to death and so Grendel's mom seeks revenge and pulls Beowulf into an underground cave below some water but Beowulf kills her too."
Me: "Sounds fierce."
Madeleine: "It was. Then, later, Beowulf is King and he has to fight a dragon after someone stole the dragon's goblet and gave it to Beowulf as a gift. Beowulf didn't know it was the dragon's goblet but it didn't matter because the dragon scorched everything. So Beowulf had to kill him."
Me: "That was excellent Madeleine. And what do you admire about Beowulf?"
Madeleine: "I admire that he was brave and killed lots of people."