The Relation of the Hrólfs Saga Kraka and the Bjarkarímur to Beowulf: A Contribution To The History Of Saga Development In England And The

In Short

This work is a doctoral dissertation that systematically examines the textual and thematic relationships between the Anglo-Saxon poem Beowulf and Scandinavian sagas. By analyzing specific episodes—such as the hero’s combat with monsters and the exile-and-return motifs of royal princes—it traces how these narratives evolved, borrowed from one another, and were shaped by folklore and regional history. It provides a detailed look at the mechanics of saga development, serving as an essential reference for those interested in the cross-pollination of early English and Northern European heroic literature.

The Story

The investigation begins by situating Beowulf within the broader context of Scandinavian tradition, specifically looking at the Hrólfs Saga Kraka and the Bjarkarímur. The author sets out to determine if common motifs—such as the slaying of supernatural beasts—are instances of direct literary influence, parallel evolution, or common heritage.

A central narrative arc concerns the transformation of a character named Hott into Hjalti. Initially presented as a trembling, cowardly companion, Hott undergoes a metamorphosis into a warrior equal to the hero Bjarki. The author explores whether this character’s development, including the acquisition of his new name—derived from the "hilt" of a king’s sword—parallels the acquisition of the famous giant-sword in Beowulf. The research argues that the Hrólfs Saga’s portrayal of this evolution, and the specific way the hero wields a golden-hilted weapon, suggests a deliberate, albeit late, literary connection to the Beowulf tradition.

The story then shifts to the saga of the princes Hroar and Helgi. These brothers, the sons of King Halfdan, are forced into hiding after their father is murdered by their uncle, Frothi. The boys survive by living in a cave, guided by an old man named Vifil who uses his dogs to signal danger, a detail that echoes other European legends of child-exiles. Their journey from humble, hidden beginnings back to their rightful inheritance follows a classic "exile-return" literary type. The author demonstrates that this narrative pattern, while appearing in several versions across Northern Europe, was influenced by imported literary motifs—including comparisons to the Macbeth legend and the story of Meriadoc.

Finally, the study compares the various chronicled versions of these Danish royal histories, such as those found in the Skjọldungasaga and the works of Saxo Grammaticus. The author highlights the discrepancies between these versions, showing how later writers struggled to harmonize conflicting accounts of royal fratricide and revenge. By resolving these contradictions, such as Saxo’s creation of two separate "Frothi" figures to account for differing plot details, the study reveals how saga-men actively manipulated their source material to create a coherent, if historically murky, national history. The arc ends not with a single hero’s victory, but with a complex map of how stories were built, layered, and reconfigured by generations of poets and historians.

How It Unfolds

The quest for origins The study begins by surveying the academic debate regarding whether Beowulf and the champion Bothvar Bjarki share a common identity. It quickly moves to isolate specific episodes, such as the monster-fights, to test the theory of literary borrowing.

The transformation of the coward The focus turns to Hott’s psychological shift, detailing his transition from a frightened youth into the valiant warrior Hjalti. This section investigates the etymological link between the hero’s new name and the golden sword he uses to dispatch his enemy.

The survival of the princes The narrative arc shifts to the precarious childhood of Hroar and Helgi, exploring the ingenious ways they are concealed from their murderous uncle. The author draws connections between these survival tactics and broader European folklore patterns involving dogs, caves, and hidden identity.

The synthesis of chronicles The final movement compares the disparate accounts of the Scylding kings found in Icelandic and Danish sources. It shows how the Skjọldungasaga and other texts attempted to reconcile the fractured, often contradictory, legends of royal betrayal and vengeance into a singular lineage.

The People

Bjarki serves as the primary heroic archetype, a warrior whose feats provide the yardstick for courage. His struggle against a winged monster is contrasted with the feats of the protagonist in Beowulf, raising questions about whether they represent the same historical or mythic figure.

Hott (later Hjalti) is the most dynamic figure in the analysis. Initially a symbol of extreme cowardice, his fear—often linked to the superstition of the Christmas-time troll—grounded in the reality of peasant life, provides a stark contrast to the heroics of the court. His eventual growth into a brave warrior serves as the centerpiece of the author's argument regarding literary character development.

Frothi stands as the antagonist, the fratricidal king whose actions trigger the "exile-return" plot. He represents the disruptive, corrupting force that forces the rightful heirs into the wilderness.

Vifil, the old man of the island, acts as the protector and strategist. His role in sheltering Hroar and Helgi highlights the importance of the "wise elder" archetype in saga literature, bridging the gap between the vulnerability of the children and their eventual rise to power.

In Its Own Voice

The author notes the supernatural and structural echoes that connect different versions of the hero’s combat:

"It can not be assumed that the author of the rímur and the author of the saga employed this manner of dispatching the animal without any knowledge on the part of the one as to what was contained in the account of the other."

Regarding the specific, terrifying nature of the threat in the Hrólfssaga, the author explains the cultural weight of the troll:

"The fear that Hott shows before leaving the hall, when he knows he must go out, and the extreme fear that he shows later, can be duplicated from the tales that are told in connection with the superstition."

What It's Really About

At its core, this work is about the fluidity of oral and written tradition. It moves beyond simple character analysis to ask how "reminiscences"—faded or altered echoes of earlier myths—persist in later compositions. The author argues that literature is an organic process where motifs like the "golden hilt" or the "exile-return" function as tools for authors to build legitimacy and narrative tension. By interrogating the relationship between the Hrólfs Saga and Beowulf, the book addresses the deeper question of how history is transformed into legend, and how cultural memory is preserved, distorted, and reconstructed across different centuries and geographies.

Why Read It Today

Readers who appreciate the deep-tissue mechanics of literary criticism will find this study rewarding. It is a meticulous piece of detective work, dissecting the genealogy of stories rather than merely summarizing them. Because it functions as a 1916 academic dissertation, the prose is formal, dense, and peppered with untranslated Old Norse and German citations, which may present a steep, rewarding climb for the layperson.

You will enjoy this if you are fascinated by how Beowulf is not a singular, isolated monument, but part of a living web of Northern European folklore. The author does not provide a neat, unified ending; instead, you are left with the sense of the "saga-man" as an active, sometimes inconsistent editor, cobbling together narratives to fit the needs of his own time. It is a work for those who want to see the scaffolding behind the legends. While it requires patience and a tolerance for heavy scholarly apparatus, it offers a profound look at the "history of saga development" that feels remarkably modern in its focus on how stories survive and change. It stays with you as a reminder that the myths we revere were once fluid, debated, and deeply personal to the cultures that told them.