The Wanderer is a poem that laments both the temporality of human life and the material world, asking existential questions that only seem to be answered in the relatively short conclusion although she appeals to the Christian God. Partly because of this structural oddity, critical attention to The Wanderer has changed dramatically over the past century. While early 20th century critics believed that the poem's conclusion, because of its didacticism, was later added to Christianize a play rich in pagan associations, later critics argued that it was part of an argument coherent and consistent in favor of belief in God. With reference to The Sailor, who has also been criticized for an apparent structural division, this essay will take the position that, using lexicon from pre-Christian thought, the poet forms a coherent argument for belief in God. But above all, this argument itself, even if it may seem limited at first reading, actually pleads for a liberation from cultural norms and towards a fluidity resulting from a belief in psychological and spiritual freedom. In fact, it is the dichotomy between the rigid and the fluid that best illustrates the Saxon struggle to forge an independent Christian identity through the use of pre-Christian resources. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on "Why violent video games should not be banned"? Get the original essay One dichotomy exposed by The Wanderer, which has divided critics, is the explicit reference to Christianity at the beginning and at the end, juxtaposed to the absence of an active Christian element in the main body of the poem. Indeed, biblical language permeates the opening and closing lines, for example "metudes miltse" (2) in line 2 and "Fder on heofonum" (115) in line 115. Additionally, the message taken from the conclusion suggests that meaning and security dwell from within a pious faith in God: “par us eal seo fastnung stonde? (115). Contrary to this didacticism, the remainder of the poem appears to be devoid of explicit Christian features, but rather filled with ancient Germanic imagery originating historically from pre-Christian traditions, the narrative following the laments of a lordless "earpiece." (6) as he dwells on the transitory nature of objects in the world. Deep sadness is evoked by the loss of the “meoduhealle” (27), described by some critics as the narrator’s “spiritual center” – ironic for a poem that ends with such a spiritual and Christian sentiment. According to some critics, the tradition to which the poem conforms is rooted in a pagan form and lexicon because it resembles that of a "Celtic elegy", arguably cementing a structural and thematic division between the middle section which arises from the ancient pagan and Germanic tradition, and the didactic part, Christian Conclusion. Even removing the idea that the poem has direct pagan associations, the tone of the majority of the piece is generally secular, such as the references to battle beasts ("sumne se hara wulf") (82), reflecting heroic poems such as the Battle of Maldon: although this in itself opposes the Christian conclusion, the lack of prescription which accompanies this secularism makes the supposedly closed ending seem more confined. For these reasons, early critics felt that the majority of the poem presents a sense of fluidity, asking the reader existential questions, such as "eal is eoran gesteal idel weore" (110). Until the very end, there is an absence of divine explanations; lamentations revolve solely around the transience of these temporal goods. It is this division which could give credence tothe idea that the conclusion would be more rigid than the body of the text, with the final lines seeming to be devoted to a prescriptive religious imperative. It is this apparent structural opposition that led some early 20th century critics to argue that the introduction and conclusion were in fact later additions to the poem, used as a tool to Christianize an otherwise formerly Germanic work, and arguably pagan. Although it is now generally accepted that these critics were wrong in their theories, the fact that these readings were generated reflects at least some sort of inconsistency in the structure of the poem and its relationship to fluency. Likewise, previous reviews have also been attempted to divide The Seafarer, another text which appears to draw on both a pre-Christian and Christian tradition, into two sections based on an abrupt shift in lexicon and imagery. More than half of the poem is devoted to the speaker's anxiety caused by the loss of his loved ones: "Ne nig hleomga" (27), told alongside his journey as a solitary traveler as the poem begins with " Mg Ic be me sylfum sogied wrecan” (Mg Ic be me sylfum sogied wrecan) (1). Like The Wanderer, these images come distinctly from an ancient Germanic culture and belief system. This contrasts with the latter part of the poem, particularly from lines 106 onwards, which perhaps presents an even more didactic conclusion than that of The Wanderer; the poet emphasizes the importance of “eadignesse” (120) which can be obtained through “lufan Dryhtnes” (121). The suggestion being in both poems, but more explicit in The Seafarer, that eternal joy lies in the belief in God in contrast to the temporal nature of earthly things. Crucially, these conclusions, at least on first reading, stand in stark contrast to the majority of the poems – particularly The Wanderer – which seem to revel in an essentially secular – and sometimes pagan – aesthetic, and the apparent didacticism can be seen as restrictive. in comparison to the stories and heroic tales told earlier in both; in line 111 of The Seafarer, the poet undoubtedly calls for the confinement and compartmentalization of human thought: “scyle monna gehwylc, mid gemete healdan” (111). Nevertheless, we can object to the claim that the Wanderer's conclusion is more closed than the rest of the poem both on the grounds that it is not devoid of a lexicon of pre-Christian influence and that it follows naturally , like a philosophical argument, of the body of the story itself. In The Seafarer and The Wanderer, findings refer to the pagan origin concept of "wryd" – a personified form of fate that permeates ancient Germanic belief systems – showing how, even in the most didactic sections of their works, the poets conform to a lexicon which finds its foundations in pre-Christian thought. Although following this argument suggests that the middle and end of the poem are not as distinct from each other as they first appear, perhaps one should not risk defining fluidity and rigidity only in terms of paganism and Christianity, because this logic lends itself to historical anachronism. Critics, beginning around 1940, began to question the "interpolation theory" advanced in earlier readings by arguing not that the conclusion adopts pre-Christian rhetoric, but that the poem actually does not present “no necessarily pagan element”. For these critics, language generally considered pagan, such as "wryd", is not used in the poems in its original pre-Christian sense: in this case, wryd is simply used as a concept of destiny. ForFor this reason, critic J Timmer argues that applying a judgment to the poem's conclusion based on an alleged division between a Christian conclusion and a pre-Christian body is not supported by linguistic evidence. Although Timmer's argument is useful in moving the discussion away from the conclusion of a perceived dichotomy, perhaps in their desire to react against the anachronism of interpolation theory, critics like Timmer underestimate the importance of the pre-Christian lexicon. "wryd" may have lost some of its pagan connotations, we can affirm that what it illustrates is an attempt to formulate a Christian message through the fusion of a lexicon originating and imbued with pre-Christian society. Even though the language is "pagan only in its associations," these associations remain relevant to the discussion of how a religious conclusion can be reached through a vocabulary predisposed to pagan values. As critic Lawrence Beaston suggests, "although the speaker has experienced the consolation of the Christian God, his difficulties have not been so alleviated by this consolation that he no longer needs to lament the loss of his former life. To extend Beaston's point, not only does the narrator fail to renounce his former culture, but he must necessarily – linguistically – conform to it due to the nature of the language at his disposal. Although it is easy to assume that the fusion of a Christian and pre-Christian lexicon resembles an attempt to merge a rigid and fluid belief system, one could argue that the language of the poems suggests that the narrative voices are in fact rejecting confinement by adopting a Christian lexicon. To assume that because the poem ends with a religious message, the flow of the rest of the poem is compromised is to approach the text with a misinterpreted bias. The narrators of The Wanderer and The Seafarer undoubtedly find a form of narrative freedom in their search for God, as at the beginning of the first, the narrator states: “aet bif in eorle, indryhten eaw aet he his ferdlocan, faeste binde healde his hordcofan , hycge swa he wille” (12-14) The implication of this passage is that – underlined by the use of the imperative – warrior culture (“eorle”) fosters a sense of mental entrapment. When the speaker moves away from this culture, although first struck by an apparent lack of meaning, he also frees himself from this form of confinement manifested through a “bind” of the spiritual and the physical. Indeed, the use of the past tense in the segment suggests that the narrator's "felocan" and "hordcofan" may no longer be subject to such restriction. This feeling is confirmed in the conclusion: “Wel bi am e him are seced beorn of his breostum acyan” (114); by lamenting the transient nature of material things and placing his faith in the eternal and divine nature of God, the narrator freed his chest and achieved freedom of thought. While the narrator of The Seafarer suggests that every man act with restraint in line 111, this restraint does not refer to mastery of human thought (as previously stated), but rather to moderation in one's behavior toward others. Rather than censorship, the sailor here advocates a “love thy neighbor” morality, as he directs his restraint toward both “leofne” and “lane” (112). The narrative voice itself – represented by the “hyge” (58) – also manages to free itself from the previous constraint: “Foron nu min hyge hweorfe, ofer hreerlocan” (58). As in The Wanderer, by dwelling on the transient nature of the world and extending his soul toward God, the narrator achieves divine reconciliation and an unbound voice. Although the two poems may differ in tone of.74