Talha Gondal, Period 1, 02/28/2022

As we continue to read through Grendel, the dynamic between Grendel and those who’ve shunned him begins to resemble a modern tale of European immigration. From Syria, Eritrea, Sudan, Afghanistan, and beyond, approximately 1.3 million displaced persons sought asylum in Europe during 2015 alone. The issue of human immigration at such scales has only proliferated since, as COVID ravages the western world and bears a disproportionately devastating impact on developing countries from which the vast majority of refugees embark on their journey. In John Gardner’s Grendel, a post-industrial retelling of the ancient epic Beowolf, a deformed and detested creature is turned away by those in which he seeks his own personal refuge. While asylum seekers in the modern world seek justice amid oppression, stability under financial hardships, or threats to their physical well-being, Gardner’s ‘monster’ experiences a psychological torture that leaves him isolated and confused in a world that refuses to mend his bruises.

Perhaps at his best, Grendel pursues meaning in life through experiencing the joys of man. As he tackles his existential crisis, his eyes fall upon the shaper, a bard whose words echo through the hearts of man, molding what even Grendel believes to be the truth. A desire to be heard—a departure from his powerless years in the forest—begins to overtake Grendel’s every thought, but the men of the village turn the monster away in their unaltered disgust. Europe’s far-right takes an opposing stance to those who urge for the expansion of immigration quotas and the opening of borders. Conservative Phillip Hammond, the British Foreign Secretary at the peak of the refugee crisis, described the migrants at Europe’s doorstep as “marauders”, beggars who bring with them degeneracy and pestilence. That rhetoric establishes a system of fear that antagonizes asylum seekers and influences public perception. Though politicians across Europe sing from podiums rather than mead halls, the wealthy and influential still control the narrative. Refugees on the other hand, are voiceless. As the Shaper sings of Grendel’s wickedness, the lone soul looks to the heavens for comfort—but they lie silent.

As the stars in Gardner’s fiction turn away the destitute, our world turns a blind eye to the suffering of millions across Africa and the Middle East. Migration is universal. It's part of the human experience. Every single person on the planet can trace their roots back to someone going from one place to another. Whether the Irish fleeing famine through the Atlantic, the Rohingya facing ethnic genocide in their homeland, or those first humans crossing landbridges to Europe early in humanity’s brief chapter in world history—we are a migratory species in its purest form. Though who we are does not shift so aptly, our attitudes towards our nature is certainly mendable.