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Courage – Medieval Lessons for Us Today

Submitted by on February 15, 2020 – 6:25 pmNo Comment


by Albrecht Classen

I would like to be courageous, but I am timid. I would like to be strong, but I am weak. I would like to be virtuous, but there are too many shortcomings and vices in my life. These are probably very common thoughts people have had throughout time, and they constitute the foundation of all ethical reflections. The differences between our ideals and our social reality are significant, unfortunately. But are we therefore to despair? Is there any hope for us to turn into saints and heroes, or is this an illusionary concept? What does courage mean both in the past and in the present? Can we learn today from literary examples, especially those composed in the Middle Ages?

    On a very basic level, nothing is written in black and white, and thinking about those values and ideals does not mean that we must either aim for the highest goals, or fail. We can set standards and norms, but we cannot demand or request from ourselves to meet them perfectly under ordinary circumstances. In practical terms, human life is far away from the world of super heroes, but this does not mean that we would have to abandon all hopes to get at least closer to some of those ideals philosophers, theologians, poets, and other intellectuals have written about, especially concerning fortitudo, courage, a profound ethical drive in us that can take us beyond the our normal framework of our existence. 

    This is where literature enters the picture. Throughout history, poets have projected scenarios or settings in which their protagonists either achieve their goal or fail utterly. If we might ever have had questions about the meaning and relevance of literature, here we have suddenly a great opportunity to comprehend its purpose and relevance. As little courageous as I might be, I can at least read about an individual who demonstrated true courage and thus can now provide us with a role model. Many children and young readers throughout time have pursued that path, deeply intrigued by the notion of a hero, greatly enjoying video games, movies, comic strips, and graphic novels in which a hero emerges and provides the audience with delight, inspiration, hope for a better world in the future, and confidence that good can and will overcome evil.

    As a comfort, we quickly realize that throughout world literature, even the greatest heroes have failed at some point in time, and just this has actually made them to be true heroes, otherwise they would have been robots and would not have been in need of courage. In other words, courage manifests itself when an individual does something dangerous for the common good even at the risk of losing his/her own life. We all remember, for instance, the New York fire fighters who perished in the World Trade Towers when they collapsed after the attack on 9/11. However, courage is demonstrated not only in public, but it manifests itself often also in private, in ordinary situations when individuals have to make decisions, have to stand up for what they believe in, and then act upon it. 

    The Old and the New Testament are filled with examples of major figures who actually fail at first and demonstrate cowardice, insecurity, or simply fright. The same applies to classical literary texts, whether we think of Homer’s Iliad and Ulysses, Dante Alighieri’s Divina Commedia, or Milton’s Paradise Lost. Courage is difficult to muster or to demonstrate, whereas cowardice comes forward just too easily, and this simply because we as human beings are afraid of danger and want to preserve our own lives. Our bodies are ruled by an instinct to recoil in situations of aggression. And aggression is all around us. However, aggression or hostility have nothing to do with courage, except that they are opposites, or simply the other side of the same coin. In fact, true courage comes to the fore in such situations when a bully tries to repress others and to impose his/her own will on the collective to the detriment of everyone else. True patriotism, for instance, hence courage, proves itself when an individual dares to criticize the government out of a concern for the well-being of the country, and this at the risk of being severely condemned or even imprisoned by the authorities, past and present examples included.

    Plato, Aristotle, Avicenna, Thomas Aquinas, Nietzsche, Kierkegaard, and countless other thinkers have already explored the meaning of courage, thereby acknowledging how important it would be to understand courage and to develop it in one’s own life. Let us remember, for instance, how much even St. Peter revealed his cowardice when he denied being one of Christ’s disciples during his lord’s Passion. Already during the Last Supper, Christ had told him that he would fail to rally his courage in that situation. In fact, he would disown him before the rooster would have crowed twice the next morning. Indeed, following the arrest of Jesus, Peter denied knowing him three times, but after the third denial, he heard the rooster crow and recalled the prediction by Jesus (e.g., Matthew 26:33–35). Things later change, but in this situation Peter is not mentioned again and cannot recover from his cowardice, that is, his lack of courage.

    Here I want to add some reflections on how medieval poets reflected on courage, at a time when heroism was the standard in the early period and when knighthood bloomed in the high Middle Ages, thus when courage would have been the social norm for the elite. However, the situation proves to be rather complex, and not easy to assess. Nevertheless, looking through that lens, we can gain a much better understanding of the complex nature of courage and might be able to differentiate more carefully between true courage and simply complete physical superiority.

    Perhaps the best-known heroic figure would be Beowulf in the eponymous Anglo-Saxon heroic epic (ca. 700 C.E.); he arrives in Denmark to fight first against monstrous Grendel, and then against his equally fiercesome mother. He defeats both and demonstrates enormous courage and strength in that effort. In many respects, Beowulf operates like a super human being, deciding even to remove all of his weapons and armor for the battle against Grendel to be on equal footing. By displaying brute force, he can defeat Grendel and hurt him mortally. However, in the battle against Grendel’s mother, he has to swim down to her layer in a cave deep underneath the sea, and here he has to rely on weapons, though his own fail, whereas ancient ones lying there make it possible for him to kill this monster. In the third case, in his fight against the dragon, he arms himself very diligently, being only too aware that the evil creature’s fiery breath could easily kill him. 

    Scholars have debated with much controversy how to evaluate Beowulf’s decision to go alone against the dragon, but it is clear that without the sudden assistance by his retainer Wiglaf, the hero would have failed, especially because he dies after he has killed the dragon. Was he too arrogant and self-conceited not to ask the warriors under his command for their assistance? Was he afraid that his men’s exposure to the dragon, symbolically representing evil incarnate, could have ruined them morally? Or did he simply not trust them enough to sustain that fight? Under any circumstances, Beowulf does not need to rally particular courage to confront his enemy because he appears to be the strongest man on earth at that time. The poet was actually not even interested in probing this issue and simply projected his figure as a super hero virtually without flaws. He is bold, very strong, and completely determined in his actions, but does all that make him courageous?

    In the Middle High German Nibelungenlied (ca. 1200), Siegfried appears on the narrative stage as a hero who commands more physical power than anyone else. Moreover, after he had killed a dragon, as we learn indirectly from the court steward Hagen, he had taken a bath in its blood which made his skin impenetrable, except for a spot on his shoulder where a leaf of a linden tree had fallen (a kind of ‘Achilles heel’). On top of that, he had defeated the king of the dwarfs and had thus gained the notorious invisibility cloak that gave him the additional strength of twelve men. 

    Undoubtedly, until Siegfried is murdered by his nemesis Hagen at the end of the first part, he performs incredible feats of heroism, but we can hardly claim that he thereby demonstrates true courage as ordinary people would because he appears like a semi-god who does not have to fear any enemies (except for Hagen, but he is ignorant about the latter’s murderous desires). 

    The second part of the poem is filled with accounts of enormous battles, and everyone involved on the side of the Burgundians rises to the status of true heroes. This, however, has nothing to do with courage in the ethical sense of the word. Those warriors fight to the bitter end, they are not cowards, but they do not have to rally extra strength or resolve to defend themselves because they face their own certain death. Hagen, above all, knows through a prophecy by nixies that they all will die, so he is only determined to kill as many of his enemies (Huns) as possible and then to fall in battle as a worthy hero. 

    Again, this is not courage. In fact, most heroic epics, including the Old French Chanson de Roland, the Old Spanish Poema de mío Cid, the Icelandic Njâl’s Saga, etc. turn out to be highly impressive literary works from the Middle Ages, but they do not necessarily address courage in the specific sense of the word as discussed by philosophers, theologians, and other writers.

    To find appropriate examples, we have to look at other genres, such as short verse narratives, for instance, mostly composed in the late Middle Ages. By the end of the thirteenth century, the German poet Konrad von Würzburg wrote the remarkable story, “Heinrich von Kempten,” where we discover, finally, a true case of courage. The protagonist has a severe problem with the Emperor Otto and is banned from his presence. Later, however, Heinrich, being in the service of a bishop, must join an imperial war campaign in Italy, without Otto knowing about this. In order to protect himself, Heinrich keeps his own tent far away from the main camp, and this then proves to be accidentally the very location where Otto intends to meet representatives of the city that he is besieging, hoping to convince them to betray their own community. Those men intend to ambush him, and they almost would have succeeded with their secret strategy of kidnapping the emperor. Heinrich observes everything from his tent and realizes the grave danger the emperor is in. Although he himself is sitting in a bathtub, naked, he immediately jumps out of the water, grabs his sword, rushes out, attacks the citizens, and can thus liberate the emperor, who only later learns the true identity of his rescuer. For Heinrich, observing the traitorous behavior and rushing out to defend his lord are one and the same thing, and he never even thinks about his nakedness, and much less about whether he should even take actions on behalf of the emperor who had threatened him with death if he ever dared to appear in his presence. 

    Certainly, Otto had proven to be tyrannical and mean-spirited, as the narrator outlines quite drastically in the early part, but for Heinrich, not fighting against traitors would have been impossible. Against all odds, he wins, chases the citizens away, and then returns to his tent, not bothering at all to make his name known to Otto, who learns only later the truth and then accepts Heinrich again as a cherished and most courageous member of his court. The major point that deserves to be mentioned here, hence, is that this protagonist operates most courageously and thereby demonstrates the true character of a man with principles. Courage thus emerges as an ethical value that comes to the fore against all external dangers and threats. The courageous individual stands up for what s/he regards as the only right thing to do, even at the risk of his/her own life. 

    Sometime at end of the fourteenth century, an anonymous poet in northern England composed the most famous alliterative romance, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, which is deeply determined by magic and fantasy, but then also by the question of how to demonstrate one’s honor by way of courage and ethical ideals. The Green Knight arrives at King Arthur’s court at Christmas time, offering a beheading game, which everyone finds horrifying because no one could survive a decapitation, except, however, for the stranger who is empowered by his sister, Morgana the Fay, to carry his own head and to return home safely. He challenges the court, and laughs about their terror, until first King Arthur, then, to substitute for him, his nephew Sir Gawain, steps forward and accepts the challenge. The tricky part is not cutting off the head of the Green Knight, but allowing him to do the same with Sir Gawain the following year. 

    Indeed, in order to live up to his own honor, Gawain bravely lives up to his own promise and departs, with everyone being certain that they will never see him again alive. Leaving aside most of the subsequent events, we need to focus only on the critical scene when a servant guides Gawain to the Green Chapel where he would meet his opponent. The servant suggests to Gawain that he should let this all go and return home; he would never reveal to the world that he had shirked his commitment or promise because the Green Knight is a horrible creature and does not deserve any credit as a member of the courtly world. Gawain, however, rejects this offer, insisting that his own honor would be at stake and that he must live up to his pledge. 

    Of course, as it all turns out, the Green Knight has only orchestrated a game, and he never would have killed Gawain, but he wanted to find out what kind of resolve he had, as the shining representative of King Arthur’s court. Previously, Gawain had gone through another test, while resting in the castle, and he had ultimately failed to live up to his promise to hand over anything he might ‘gain’ during his time there (even sexual favors as offered to him by the lady of the castle). Bertilak, who is actually the Green Knight, had made a deal with Gawain that they would spend their days, himself hunting, while the guest would enjoy his free time, and that they would exchange all their trophies in the evening. Bertilak uses his wife as a temptress, but she can only convince Gawain on the third day to accept a secret baldric that would guarantee its wearer his life. He accepts it but does not turn it over to Bertilak, and, in the decapitation scene, he is punished for this infraction by being hit slightly on his neck – just a flesh wound. 

    Nevertheless, this knight always demonstrates courage, especially because he is fighting for his honor, and this often against all odds. Specifically, Gawain also fails one time and later feels deeply ashamed about it, but this does not diminish his fame, his courage, and his honor; on the contrary; everyone at King Arthur’s court welcomes him back home, happily laugh about his admission of guilt, and take on a green baldric themselves to demonstrate their respect for Gawain’s courage, honor, and humility, having admitted his own guilt.

    A final, and rather complex example would be the verse narrative “The Mayor and the Prince,” by the German poet Heinrich Kaufringer (ca. 1400). The French crown prince studies at the university of Erfurt, but incognito. He is suspected of being a thief because he spends so much money without anyone knowing its origin. Questioned by the mayor, he pokes fun at the entire city council, pretending to be a male prostitute whom all honorable women in the city pay for his service. This revelation shocks the poor husband and all other city counsellors, so they let the case go as quietly as possible. One day, however, due to some circumstances, the mayor has to share this ‘secret’ with his wife, who pretends to be morally enraged, but is privately jealous of the other women. Soon enough, she invites the student in during her husband’s assumed absence, and both enjoy a bath together as a prelude to their sexual pleasures. The husband has foreseen all this and catches them in flagrante, imposing complete control over them. He is resolute but not irrational, and he courageously defends his marriage and honor. Acknowledging that the young man is a prostitute, he insists that he take the payment from him in the future and thus leave his wife completely alone. This, however, deeply embarrasses the prince, who now reveals his identity and assures the ‘host’ that nothing has happened that might have infringed his honor. The affair is thus nipped in the bud, and the mayor receives highest respects from the prince, who, greatly ashamed, promises never to enter the mayor’s house without his invitation, and grants him a major economic privilege in France as a merchant. 

    The mayor demonstrates considerable courage because he is fighting so cleverly and discreetly for his honor and his marriage. At the same time, however, we could read his strategy almost as an expression of cowardice because he does not resort to physical force, the law, or the help of the authorities. Instead, he pays off the ‘prostitute,’ trying to keep it all in private. The outcome, however, confirms that he had acted correctly. No one learns about the ‘affair,’ the prince is ashamed, and from then on refrains from bragging about his sexual prowess. And the mayor gains a major economic advantage as a result of his intelligent approach. Of course, we could also argue that he was morally weak and not man enough to stand up for his marriage and his own wife. However, as much as he tried to handle the case by means of monetary payment out of his own pocket, as much did he also succeed thereby to keep his wife’s attempt of adultery a secret. Moreover, through this strategy the student and his wife could never proceed to committing the actual sexual transgression, and instead of causing a huge scandal, the mayor understood how to employ private measures that restored both men’s honor. The mayor knew about the imminent adultery, but he caught the two in his deceptive net and thus could avoid further damage to all of their reputations. He acted intelligently, energetically, but also quietly in the face of major odds against him. 

    We would have to admit that the mayor was not a true hero, and that he did not fight publicly for his own honor; instead, he pursued private measures and thereby succeeded effectively to achieve his goals. Kaufringer’s tale thus certainly moves us out of the Middle Ages and into the private spheres of a bourgeois world. Nevertheless, courage still matters centrally in this story, even though it functions here in a different category. 

    Whereas famous heroes such as Beowulf or Siegfried, not to mention the countless shining knights in courtly romances, operate as defenders of their countries and honor, they ‘only’ fulfil their expected roles since they are the mightiest and most powerful individuals. By contrast, we have discovered courage more on a different level, in the private sphere, in complex and ambivalent situations where inner fear and insecurity, for instance, appear as major challenges against courage. We can conclude that courage emerges primarily in situations where the odds seem to be poised against the protagonist who nevertheless struggles boldly to defend himself, his honor, and public status. 

    This ultimately reminds us again of St. Peter, who actually failed to stand up to the challenges of the public and denied his lord. Provocatively, we could raise the issue of whether perhaps Judas was the only truly courageous one among the twelve disciples because he acted not simply out of financial greed – where would that have come from in the first place anyway? – but out of an awareness that Christ had to be crucified in order to fulfil the prophecy of the Old Testament and to prove publicly that Christ was indeed the Lord. However, Judas then also failed, lost his courage and faith, and committed suicide. 

    Courage, as we can thus observe, is a huge challenge; some people have it instinctively, and it is thrust upon others depending on the circumstances. Examples of courage illuminate ethical conditions in people, and they instill awe and admiration in us when we read about them. Both the biblical text and many literary narratives from the Middle Ages confront us with the question of what constitutes true courage. This question is still with us and forces us to ponder who we are in our core and essence. It would be difficult to answer this question, if we don’t want to throw ourselves into life-threatening situations. The literary discourse makes it possible for us to examine the issue deeply and to probe it from many different perspectives. Obviously, this issue has not lost any of its relevance for us in the postmodern world, but we can certainly learn more about it through examples presented in premodern literary texts.

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About the author

Dr. Albrecht Classen wrote 9 articles for this publication.

Dr. Albrecht Classen is University Distinguished Professor of German Studies at The University of Arizona, focusing on the Middle Ages and early modern age. He has published more than 80 scholarly books and nine volumes of his own poetry. He is editor of the journals, Mediaevistik and Humanities Open Access. He has received numerous research, teaching, and advising awards, such as the 2012 Carnegie Foundation Professor of the Year Award.

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