What do you think?
Rate this book
The Song of Roland
One of the crowning achievements of medieval artistic genius, The Song of Roland tells the story of the battle of Roncesvals in 778.
At the center of this heroic epic is Roland, the supreme embodiment of the chivalric ideal who leads his men into combat and fights valiantly to the death.
As Robert Harrison, the translator of this acclaimed edition, explains, "The carefully balanced structure of The Song of Roland is designed like a folding mirror to reflect the battle between Good and Evil at all levels of meaning."
208 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1115
558 people are currently reading
14917 people want to read
About the author
Unknown
506k books3,210 followersBooks can be attributed to "Unknown" when the author or editor (as applicable) is not known and cannot be discovered. If at all possible, list at least one actual author or editor for a book instead of using "Unknown".
Books whose authorship is purposefully withheld should be attributed instead to Anonymous.
Books whose authorship is purposefully withheld should be attributed instead to Anonymous.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 1,227 reviews
November 20, 2015
It's not surprising that this work's greatest descendants are satires. It's often difficult to take the simplistic pro-crusade sentiment seriously. Each time one of the Knights yelled to some dead Muslim "We're right, you're wrong!" I laughed. When you're debate opponent is already slain, I guess you don't need to say anything else.
Ariosto drew on this tradition for his Orlando Furioso , but each time a knight yells at Muslims in that book, the Muslims yell the same thing back. Though the Furioso is decidedly on the side of the crusaders (they win, after all), it reads like a Mad Magazine parody of 'The Song of Roland'. Ariosto clearly has a sense that both sides are fighting for the same reasons (not that he's unhappy to be on the winning side).
Cervantes likewise made a parody of this work with his 'Don Quixote', by simply asking 'what if a man comported himself like a knight while making his way through the real world'. Consequently, Quixote spends the book yelling at people he thinks are wrong and trying to kill them. Apparently, its only a comedy if you don't succeed. The unspoken critique throughout the book is that if Quixote is behaving inappropriately for real life, then the knights of Roland are only appropriate for a pretend world.
The Muslims have all the motivation of a Disney villain, desiring only to be treacherous and mean. The philosophical complexity is a long fall from Homer or Virgil. The work provides us with the clear sense that neither the author nor his culture have any real understanding of their foes, presenting the Muslims as worshiping Mohammad, Apollo, and popularizing the figure of 'Termagant'--long after referenced as the primary god of the Muslims.
I found an interesting article which translated some of the terms in the book to Arabic, including 'olyphant' and the names of several horses and swords. According the the article, 'Apollo' and 'Termagant' are mis-translations of important religious figures; namely, Mohammad's uncle and son. They are no more gods than Moses, Solomon, or the Pope.
I had to find another article to explain the meaning of one passage describing a knights impressive physical traits and ending with "he had a large crotch". Apparently this is meant to signify the length of his thighs, and not anything particularly sexual. I guess long thighs just made you a bad dude back then (which does make sense if the primary war skill is equestrianism).
The bumbling, mustache-twirling Muslims set a standard for unsophisticated villains to come, appealing to the lowest common denominator. This is hardly surprising, since the work was performed for the public by singing jongleurs. Like the Passion Plays, the work was half entertainment, half political propaganda meant to stir up discontent in the illiterate, uneducated man.
In fact, the original battle described, in which Roland made his final stand, did not involve any Muslims at all--it was between Charlemagne's Christian French and Spanish Basques whose lands they were invading, who were also Christians. The whole anti-Muslim angle was tacked on later, just to rile people up.
There are some passages where Muslims are described as mighty, attractive, and clever, but these passages do not exactly typify their portrayal in the work.
Between the maniacal villains and the high death counts, this book clearly makes up a prototype for action movies to come, complete with the pithy lines delivered by the heroes to fresh corpses. In that sense, it's not hard to imagine the popularity of Roland, who was the John McClane of his time.
Despite historical and cultural significance and a few moving descriptions, the work is overall rather childish, falling long after the height of the Roman authors, yet still remote from the coming Renaissance. European culture at the time was light on philosophy, but had a multitude of enemies and wars.
Ironically, it was the Muslims who were currently at a philosophical and intellectual peak, translating and maintaining the Greek tradition. The Muslims had developed 'zero' three hundred years before, and in another three hundred, Ibn Khaldun would invent the social sciences in one fell swoop. It was only during the Crusades that Europeans began to learn things like mathematics and Greek philosophy from the Muslims, bringing these ideas back home and sparking off the Renaissance.
The Song is certainly useful for any follower of the epic tradition or for historians, and is quite short, but overall it is merely a placeholder between great works of earlier and later periods.
I read the Glyn Burgess translation, which is passable and has thoughtful footnotes.
Ariosto drew on this tradition for his Orlando Furioso , but each time a knight yells at Muslims in that book, the Muslims yell the same thing back. Though the Furioso is decidedly on the side of the crusaders (they win, after all), it reads like a Mad Magazine parody of 'The Song of Roland'. Ariosto clearly has a sense that both sides are fighting for the same reasons (not that he's unhappy to be on the winning side).
Cervantes likewise made a parody of this work with his 'Don Quixote', by simply asking 'what if a man comported himself like a knight while making his way through the real world'. Consequently, Quixote spends the book yelling at people he thinks are wrong and trying to kill them. Apparently, its only a comedy if you don't succeed. The unspoken critique throughout the book is that if Quixote is behaving inappropriately for real life, then the knights of Roland are only appropriate for a pretend world.
The Muslims have all the motivation of a Disney villain, desiring only to be treacherous and mean. The philosophical complexity is a long fall from Homer or Virgil. The work provides us with the clear sense that neither the author nor his culture have any real understanding of their foes, presenting the Muslims as worshiping Mohammad, Apollo, and popularizing the figure of 'Termagant'--long after referenced as the primary god of the Muslims.
I found an interesting article which translated some of the terms in the book to Arabic, including 'olyphant' and the names of several horses and swords. According the the article, 'Apollo' and 'Termagant' are mis-translations of important religious figures; namely, Mohammad's uncle and son. They are no more gods than Moses, Solomon, or the Pope.
I had to find another article to explain the meaning of one passage describing a knights impressive physical traits and ending with "he had a large crotch". Apparently this is meant to signify the length of his thighs, and not anything particularly sexual. I guess long thighs just made you a bad dude back then (which does make sense if the primary war skill is equestrianism).
The bumbling, mustache-twirling Muslims set a standard for unsophisticated villains to come, appealing to the lowest common denominator. This is hardly surprising, since the work was performed for the public by singing jongleurs. Like the Passion Plays, the work was half entertainment, half political propaganda meant to stir up discontent in the illiterate, uneducated man.
In fact, the original battle described, in which Roland made his final stand, did not involve any Muslims at all--it was between Charlemagne's Christian French and Spanish Basques whose lands they were invading, who were also Christians. The whole anti-Muslim angle was tacked on later, just to rile people up.
There are some passages where Muslims are described as mighty, attractive, and clever, but these passages do not exactly typify their portrayal in the work.
Between the maniacal villains and the high death counts, this book clearly makes up a prototype for action movies to come, complete with the pithy lines delivered by the heroes to fresh corpses. In that sense, it's not hard to imagine the popularity of Roland, who was the John McClane of his time.
Despite historical and cultural significance and a few moving descriptions, the work is overall rather childish, falling long after the height of the Roman authors, yet still remote from the coming Renaissance. European culture at the time was light on philosophy, but had a multitude of enemies and wars.
Ironically, it was the Muslims who were currently at a philosophical and intellectual peak, translating and maintaining the Greek tradition. The Muslims had developed 'zero' three hundred years before, and in another three hundred, Ibn Khaldun would invent the social sciences in one fell swoop. It was only during the Crusades that Europeans began to learn things like mathematics and Greek philosophy from the Muslims, bringing these ideas back home and sparking off the Renaissance.
The Song is certainly useful for any follower of the epic tradition or for historians, and is quite short, but overall it is merely a placeholder between great works of earlier and later periods.
I read the Glyn Burgess translation, which is passable and has thoughtful footnotes.
February 25, 2022
This was an easy read; the book is slim and the chapter are very short.
Things I got from this book:
It's a fast-moving, dramatic French epic based on a true event during Charlemagne’s somewhat unsuccesful campaign of 778 in northern Moorish Spain, a 'minor' ambush of the rear guard as he returned home - at the Pyrenees (not by muslims as the story claims though); and a true man, Hruodland (Roland), Charlemagne's Breton warden, who perished in this battle (how noble and brave he actually was is not known, of course).
Written in late 11th century to inspire the Crusades and the people taking part/supporting them, well-known by 1096... perhaps first appearing in a not-written-down form, and when written down, appearing in various forms.
That the Christians of this writing era (late 11th centry) didn't know much about Islam, even less than the bigots of our time: they thought Muslims worshipped three gods (Apollin the main god, Termagant the female god and Mahomet the prophet-god) and had images made of them.
Muslims are definitely pictured here as the 'bad side', (much of the book's thinking is black and white), but they do dress well and have good horses. If one can get over the pagan/devil's own part that the 'bad side' gets - typical of the era, the story itself is good.
There are certainly plenty of example of geographical ignorances of the area (distances for example) and exaggerated numbers (like, when Charlemagne expresses his grief over Roland's death, "a hundred thousand Franks faint on the ground") that are amusing.
Besides the religious oppositions and historical value, this is also an example of what the knights' values were supposed to be at the time: keeping one's word, bravery, strong religious faith. So much was gained, in my opinion, for reading this book, and thus it was well worth a read.
Things I got from this book:
It's a fast-moving, dramatic French epic based on a true event during Charlemagne’s somewhat unsuccesful campaign of 778 in northern Moorish Spain, a 'minor' ambush of the rear guard as he returned home - at the Pyrenees (not by muslims as the story claims though); and a true man, Hruodland (Roland), Charlemagne's Breton warden, who perished in this battle (how noble and brave he actually was is not known, of course).
Written in late 11th century to inspire the Crusades and the people taking part/supporting them, well-known by 1096... perhaps first appearing in a not-written-down form, and when written down, appearing in various forms.
That the Christians of this writing era (late 11th centry) didn't know much about Islam, even less than the bigots of our time: they thought Muslims worshipped three gods (Apollin the main god, Termagant the female god and Mahomet the prophet-god) and had images made of them.
Muslims are definitely pictured here as the 'bad side', (much of the book's thinking is black and white), but they do dress well and have good horses. If one can get over the pagan/devil's own part that the 'bad side' gets - typical of the era, the story itself is good.
There are certainly plenty of example of geographical ignorances of the area (distances for example) and exaggerated numbers (like, when Charlemagne expresses his grief over Roland's death, "a hundred thousand Franks faint on the ground") that are amusing.
Besides the religious oppositions and historical value, this is also an example of what the knights' values were supposed to be at the time: keeping one's word, bravery, strong religious faith. So much was gained, in my opinion, for reading this book, and thus it was well worth a read.
March 5, 2024
You know those Hollywood movies that say; “inspired by actual historical events,” that then go on to change and corrupt every detail of the history save for the general seed idea? Well, they are the heirs of The Song of Roland. The story is based on an actual event, yet is worthless as history, as nearly every detail of that event has been changed to suit heroic story telling and glorifying French and Christian propaganda.
But just as many of those grossly inaccurate historical action movies can be a lot of fun to watch, The Song of Roland is fun to read. It was sung as entertainment by French troubadours, and its heroic action and over the top bravado is truly entertaining in its own right. And while not reliable history of the eighth century battle it memorialized, it does give a window into the attitudes and ideas of the contemporary audiences those troubadours performed to.
The Song of Roland’s original audience experienced it by listening to the troubadour’s performance. Our modern equivalent is listening on audiobook, and I highly recommend this format for getting the most out of this medieval tale.
But just as many of those grossly inaccurate historical action movies can be a lot of fun to watch, The Song of Roland is fun to read. It was sung as entertainment by French troubadours, and its heroic action and over the top bravado is truly entertaining in its own right. And while not reliable history of the eighth century battle it memorialized, it does give a window into the attitudes and ideas of the contemporary audiences those troubadours performed to.
The Song of Roland’s original audience experienced it by listening to the troubadour’s performance. Our modern equivalent is listening on audiobook, and I highly recommend this format for getting the most out of this medieval tale.
Read
February 3, 2018Bloodthirsty.
Historical clash between Charlemagne's rear guard and rapacious Basques transformed into a medieval epic of betrayal, loyalty and duty against a backdrop of warfare between Muslim Spain and Christian France. Hugely influential - causing the name Ganelon, here associated with the blackest treachery, to drop out of documented usage as a given name! Demonstrating that the power of literature to change society was already nascent evn at the dawn of the Middle Ages.
Historical clash between Charlemagne's rear guard and rapacious Basques transformed into a medieval epic of betrayal, loyalty and duty against a backdrop of warfare between Muslim Spain and Christian France. Hugely influential - causing the name Ganelon, here associated with the blackest treachery, to drop out of documented usage as a given name! Demonstrating that the power of literature to change society was already nascent evn at the dawn of the Middle Ages.
May 6, 2024
Another text on my reading list for university! This is a French epic about the warrior nephew of Charlemagne, Roland, with a conflict meant to be a symbol for the war between Christianity and Islam.
This is epic, but without much characterisation, in contrast to the Icelandic sagas I have been enjoying so much. The author shows you should support someone and idolise them merely be telling us they are "virtuous" or "treacherous" and then sharing their religion, and then seems to expect you to feel great emotion when many meet their demise. That did not pay off for me.
I'm glad I have read it, but it is not a text that I loved.
This is epic, but without much characterisation, in contrast to the Icelandic sagas I have been enjoying so much. The author shows you should support someone and idolise them merely be telling us they are "virtuous" or "treacherous" and then sharing their religion, and then seems to expect you to feel great emotion when many meet their demise. That did not pay off for me.
I'm glad I have read it, but it is not a text that I loved.
January 5, 2022
This is an excellent epic poem of war. I shall give a full review later.
January 31, 2023
[2.5]
Update: dostałem pizde
Update: dostałem pizde
September 21, 2018
I am Oliver.
I'm a big fan of heroic literature, but The Song of Roland is not my favorite. Honestly, this is very much 'For the Glory of God', a crusader's epic poem. Not a great fit for me thematically, but I really wanted to have this piece of the puzzle slotted in for my understanding of heroic poetry. This is so different than The Illiad, The Odyssey, Táin Bó Cúailnge, Y Gododdin, Mabinogion, Beowulf, and Gilgamesh.
Roland desired goal of martyrdom requires the sacrifice of tens of thousands of his men for NO REASON. I test as Field Marshall or Architect on the Myers-Briggs, to give some perspective of where I'm coming from reading this. Hence, I'm Oliver. Dutiful, yet pragmatic. It's not that I don't understand dying for a cause. If you don't know what you're willing to die for, then you don't have any idea how to live; it's stumbling around in the dark. That said, while I know why I'm willing to die, and even that which I would condemn others to death who have sworn like goals, this is moronic. Roland didn't need to be martyred to achieve victory; therefore, it was a phenomenal amount of resources squandered. Forget Roland. What about all the other men who followed him? To what purpose?
Even if you say death and awaiting paradise is far better than here and now, an early exit is the easy way out and not heroic.
Heck, I understand Tierris, Charlemagne's proxy against Pinabel to avenge Roland's death and condemn Guenes for his treachery. All that aside, this was very repetitive with never-ending descriptions of the next warrior to fall, golden hauberks and helms galore. Add on that Roland dies about 50% of the way through and then we get to go through round two made it a bit slow. Think Charge of the Light Brigade at 1/50 speed.
I think I had a very outdated version so forgive the oddities in spellings.
Rollant est proz e Oliver est sage / Roland’s a hero, and Oliver is wise
It did inspire a haiku review, so there's that.
Cry 'Monjoie', gallantly
Broken hauberk, gold helm falls
Red poppies, Roland
I'm a big fan of heroic literature, but The Song of Roland is not my favorite. Honestly, this is very much 'For the Glory of God', a crusader's epic poem. Not a great fit for me thematically, but I really wanted to have this piece of the puzzle slotted in for my understanding of heroic poetry. This is so different than The Illiad, The Odyssey, Táin Bó Cúailnge, Y Gododdin, Mabinogion, Beowulf, and Gilgamesh.
Roland desired goal of martyrdom requires the sacrifice of tens of thousands of his men for NO REASON. I test as Field Marshall or Architect on the Myers-Briggs, to give some perspective of where I'm coming from reading this. Hence, I'm Oliver. Dutiful, yet pragmatic. It's not that I don't understand dying for a cause. If you don't know what you're willing to die for, then you don't have any idea how to live; it's stumbling around in the dark. That said, while I know why I'm willing to die, and even that which I would condemn others to death who have sworn like goals, this is moronic. Roland didn't need to be martyred to achieve victory; therefore, it was a phenomenal amount of resources squandered. Forget Roland. What about all the other men who followed him? To what purpose?
Even if you say death and awaiting paradise is far better than here and now, an early exit is the easy way out and not heroic.
Heck, I understand Tierris, Charlemagne's proxy against Pinabel to avenge Roland's death and condemn Guenes for his treachery. All that aside, this was very repetitive with never-ending descriptions of the next warrior to fall, golden hauberks and helms galore. Add on that Roland dies about 50% of the way through and then we get to go through round two made it a bit slow. Think Charge of the Light Brigade at 1/50 speed.
I think I had a very outdated version so forgive the oddities in spellings.
Rollant est proz e Oliver est sage / Roland’s a hero, and Oliver is wise
It did inspire a haiku review, so there's that.
Cry 'Monjoie', gallantly
Broken hauberk, gold helm falls
Red poppies, Roland
July 29, 2021
The oldest surviving major work of French literature, and an entertaining medieval classic. This epic poem presents a stylized version of the Battle of Roncevaux Pass (in 778), when Charlemagne's Christian forces fought the Spanish Muslims. If you enjoy epic poetry or medieval literature, this is not to be missed. 5 stars, highly recommended!
December 14, 2019
"La batalla tendremos como nunca se ha visto.
Mis señores franceses, ¡Dios nos quiera valer!
¡Mantened bien el campo, que no seamos vencidos!
Los franceses responden: ¡Maldito sea el que huya!
Ni en peligro de muerte nadie os ha de fallar."
Hasta hoy sólo lo conocía de oídas como uno de los Cantares de gesta medievales junto con el del Cid español, que por lo recuerdo tiene más cuerpo y alma que este cantar. Siempre me había llamado la atención pues mi segundo nombre es Rolando. Sin embargo el haber leído previamente "Orlando enamorado" y "Orlando furioso" me ha hecho tener más ganas de poder leer este cantar y terminarlo rápido.
La historia cuenta desde luego el desastre de Roncesvalles donde todo empieza por la traición de Ganelón pariente de Roldán, quien por intervención de este mismo es elegido por Carlomagno para ir de embajada donde el moro Marsil que controla gran parte de España, la idea es una tregua de paz. Sin embargo ser elegido de embajador es algo que Ganelón considera un insulto y una exposición muy artera pues se cree morir por lo que odiará por siempre a Roldán. Entra en tratos con Marsil para engañar a los franceses y posteriormente emboscar a Roldán.
Esta obra es una épica más simple, más guerrera por decirlo así que los libros italianos que leí, desde luego porque es un poema más rústico, antiguo, con lenguaje no muy bien depurado, lleno de anáforas por momentos y parlamentos tópicos repetitivos como los gritos de guerra o las escenas bélicas. No encontramos casi rastro de magia o amoríos como sí los hay abundantes en la épica renacentista.
Roldán desde luego es el principal de todo el poema por mucho y es un guerrero bastante fiero pero también orgulloso y hasta petulante, al lado vemos a Oliveros su gran amigo que casi no lo conocía de los poemas anteriores pero que aquí destaca por su valentía y habilidad para el combate. Con ellos forman los 12 pares que son como los caballeros de la mesa redonda de la leyenda artúrica. Carlomagno por otra parte también muy buen guerrero es el bendecido por Dios y recibe el auxilio permanente de los ángeles y está rodeado de una aureola de santidad y seriedad al mismo tiempo.
Me gustó así mismo conocer a nuevos personajes como Baligán, el emir que ayudó a Marsil, a los doce pares, al duque de Naimón, la "Preciosa", a "Munjoie" y sobre todo el final de esta gran historia así como algunas variantes que figuraban como Anexos.
Un rato infausto acompañar a Roldán en sus últimos momentos.
Mis señores franceses, ¡Dios nos quiera valer!
¡Mantened bien el campo, que no seamos vencidos!
Los franceses responden: ¡Maldito sea el que huya!
Ni en peligro de muerte nadie os ha de fallar."
Hasta hoy sólo lo conocía de oídas como uno de los Cantares de gesta medievales junto con el del Cid español, que por lo recuerdo tiene más cuerpo y alma que este cantar. Siempre me había llamado la atención pues mi segundo nombre es Rolando. Sin embargo el haber leído previamente "Orlando enamorado" y "Orlando furioso" me ha hecho tener más ganas de poder leer este cantar y terminarlo rápido.
La historia cuenta desde luego el desastre de Roncesvalles donde todo empieza por la traición de Ganelón pariente de Roldán, quien por intervención de este mismo es elegido por Carlomagno para ir de embajada donde el moro Marsil que controla gran parte de España, la idea es una tregua de paz. Sin embargo ser elegido de embajador es algo que Ganelón considera un insulto y una exposición muy artera pues se cree morir por lo que odiará por siempre a Roldán. Entra en tratos con Marsil para engañar a los franceses y posteriormente emboscar a Roldán.
Esta obra es una épica más simple, más guerrera por decirlo así que los libros italianos que leí, desde luego porque es un poema más rústico, antiguo, con lenguaje no muy bien depurado, lleno de anáforas por momentos y parlamentos tópicos repetitivos como los gritos de guerra o las escenas bélicas. No encontramos casi rastro de magia o amoríos como sí los hay abundantes en la épica renacentista.
Roldán desde luego es el principal de todo el poema por mucho y es un guerrero bastante fiero pero también orgulloso y hasta petulante, al lado vemos a Oliveros su gran amigo que casi no lo conocía de los poemas anteriores pero que aquí destaca por su valentía y habilidad para el combate. Con ellos forman los 12 pares que son como los caballeros de la mesa redonda de la leyenda artúrica. Carlomagno por otra parte también muy buen guerrero es el bendecido por Dios y recibe el auxilio permanente de los ángeles y está rodeado de una aureola de santidad y seriedad al mismo tiempo.
Me gustó así mismo conocer a nuevos personajes como Baligán, el emir que ayudó a Marsil, a los doce pares, al duque de Naimón, la "Preciosa", a "Munjoie" y sobre todo el final de esta gran historia así como algunas variantes que figuraban como Anexos.
Un rato infausto acompañar a Roldán en sus últimos momentos.
August 3, 2018
Poetry is not my favorite genre but this is a superb translation by Dorothy Sayers, the writer of Lord Peter Wimsey mysteries.
Before the poem, she devotes several pages to a thorough and interesting history of knights, lords, lieges, etc.. and their relationships with each other. I think this helps the reader to better understand the characters in the poem and also the Moorish invasion during Charlemagne's reign.
Before the poem, she devotes several pages to a thorough and interesting history of knights, lords, lieges, etc.. and their relationships with each other. I think this helps the reader to better understand the characters in the poem and also the Moorish invasion during Charlemagne's reign.
November 19, 2015
Charlemagne's Rear Guard
17 September 2013
In her introduction Dorothy Sayers compared the Song of Roland with Homer but in my opinion that is like comparing a graffiti artist with Pablo Picasso. Yeah, they're both painters, but they simply exist on two completely different levels. Granted, the Song of Roland is an epic poem in the traditional sense in that it chronicles events that occurred four hundred years before the poem appeared in its final form and was no doubt handed down by word of mouth for at least a bit of that time, but the structure and complexity of the Homeric epics simply leaves this rather scrappy piece of work for dead.
The Song of Roland is set during the reign of Charlemagne, and while Charlemagne was off beating up the pagan non-Christian barbarians up north, Spain was being invaded by the Muslims (who, in this poem, are pagan non-Christians). In response, Charlemagne crosses the Pyranees and launches an attack against the Muslim invaders and has the upper hand, so the Muslim king proposes a truce. Charlegmaine then returns back across the Pyranees to continue to beat up on the Pagan non-Christians to the north. However, the Muslims hatch a plot to weaken Charlegmaine's army and as his rear guard is crossing the Pyranees, the Basque ambush them and slaughter them to the man. In response, Charlegmaine returns and enacts vengeance on the Muslims, and kills the instigator of the ambush by tying him to four horses and then whipping them so they all run off in four different directions.
The poem itself is good, and it is an enjoyable read, but as I said it is nowhere near as structured as Homer. The poem was originally written in a very old form of French which was actually closer to Latin than the French we know today. In fact the French of this period still declined its nouns (meaning that the noun would change based on the position that it took in the sentence, something which it doesn't do these days – German still does it, but only with the articles).
What is interesting is that the Basque were still very independent back in those days. In the poem it sounds as if the Muslims encouraged them to attack Charlemagne's rear-guard, however it is suggested that they actually didn't really need all that much encouragement. What I noticed though is that the civil war that the Basques are raging against the Spanish government today is not anything new – it has been going on for over a thousand years (and possibly even longer).
The other interesting thing that I noticed is pretty much how little Medieval Christianity knew about Islam. We are told here that the Muslims were pagans that worshipped idols and had multiple gods (and that is ignoring that fact that the writer blatantly says that the Muslims worship Satan). In fact they are referred to throughout the poem as Paynims (which is medieval for pagan). These days we know that that is nowhere near the truth. They do notice that they have their own book, but it is suggested that the reason they say this is because the writer is trying to portray them as being the antithesis of Christianity. Maybe they suggest this because the Muslims conquered Spain so quickly (which was a bit of an embarrassment – especially since the counter-attack took four hundred years).
However, it is unlikely that the writer, or many of the people in Christendom at the time, would have done all that much to try to understand Islam. Simply put, they were not Christian therefore in the eyes of the writers, and the audience, they were bad. However it is also suggested that it worked both ways – the Muslims pretty much saw Christianity in the same light, and I am told the misunderstanding of what Christianity is about is evident in Muslim literature of the time such as the Tales of the Arabian Knights.
Once again, nothing much has really changed in all that time. Fundamentalist Muslims see Christians as a debauchuous lot that run around in bikinis looking at porn and living hedonistic lifestyles, while fundamentalist Christians simply see Muslims as being a violent lot that run around blowing up people that do not believe their strict doctrine. While I tend to be very traditional in my faith, that does not give me the excuse not to befriend Muslims or try to understand where they are coming from, and it certainly does not give me the right to make baseless assumptions about what Muslims are like (I have some very good Islamic friends) or make inflammatory statements about their faith that only exist to inflame tempers (even though, like most religions, there are some really bad apples).
17 September 2013
In her introduction Dorothy Sayers compared the Song of Roland with Homer but in my opinion that is like comparing a graffiti artist with Pablo Picasso. Yeah, they're both painters, but they simply exist on two completely different levels. Granted, the Song of Roland is an epic poem in the traditional sense in that it chronicles events that occurred four hundred years before the poem appeared in its final form and was no doubt handed down by word of mouth for at least a bit of that time, but the structure and complexity of the Homeric epics simply leaves this rather scrappy piece of work for dead.
The Song of Roland is set during the reign of Charlemagne, and while Charlemagne was off beating up the pagan non-Christian barbarians up north, Spain was being invaded by the Muslims (who, in this poem, are pagan non-Christians). In response, Charlemagne crosses the Pyranees and launches an attack against the Muslim invaders and has the upper hand, so the Muslim king proposes a truce. Charlegmaine then returns back across the Pyranees to continue to beat up on the Pagan non-Christians to the north. However, the Muslims hatch a plot to weaken Charlegmaine's army and as his rear guard is crossing the Pyranees, the Basque ambush them and slaughter them to the man. In response, Charlegmaine returns and enacts vengeance on the Muslims, and kills the instigator of the ambush by tying him to four horses and then whipping them so they all run off in four different directions.
The poem itself is good, and it is an enjoyable read, but as I said it is nowhere near as structured as Homer. The poem was originally written in a very old form of French which was actually closer to Latin than the French we know today. In fact the French of this period still declined its nouns (meaning that the noun would change based on the position that it took in the sentence, something which it doesn't do these days – German still does it, but only with the articles).
What is interesting is that the Basque were still very independent back in those days. In the poem it sounds as if the Muslims encouraged them to attack Charlemagne's rear-guard, however it is suggested that they actually didn't really need all that much encouragement. What I noticed though is that the civil war that the Basques are raging against the Spanish government today is not anything new – it has been going on for over a thousand years (and possibly even longer).
The other interesting thing that I noticed is pretty much how little Medieval Christianity knew about Islam. We are told here that the Muslims were pagans that worshipped idols and had multiple gods (and that is ignoring that fact that the writer blatantly says that the Muslims worship Satan). In fact they are referred to throughout the poem as Paynims (which is medieval for pagan). These days we know that that is nowhere near the truth. They do notice that they have their own book, but it is suggested that the reason they say this is because the writer is trying to portray them as being the antithesis of Christianity. Maybe they suggest this because the Muslims conquered Spain so quickly (which was a bit of an embarrassment – especially since the counter-attack took four hundred years).
However, it is unlikely that the writer, or many of the people in Christendom at the time, would have done all that much to try to understand Islam. Simply put, they were not Christian therefore in the eyes of the writers, and the audience, they were bad. However it is also suggested that it worked both ways – the Muslims pretty much saw Christianity in the same light, and I am told the misunderstanding of what Christianity is about is evident in Muslim literature of the time such as the Tales of the Arabian Knights.
Once again, nothing much has really changed in all that time. Fundamentalist Muslims see Christians as a debauchuous lot that run around in bikinis looking at porn and living hedonistic lifestyles, while fundamentalist Christians simply see Muslims as being a violent lot that run around blowing up people that do not believe their strict doctrine. While I tend to be very traditional in my faith, that does not give me the excuse not to befriend Muslims or try to understand where they are coming from, and it certainly does not give me the right to make baseless assumptions about what Muslims are like (I have some very good Islamic friends) or make inflammatory statements about their faith that only exist to inflame tempers (even though, like most religions, there are some really bad apples).
May 13, 2016
"Pagans are wrong: Christians are right indeed."
Wow, thanks for that stunning piece of religious thinking, Roland!
If you like sophisticated metaphysical analysis such as that, as well as lavish descriptions of bowels and brains spilling out onto the ground, then boy howdy, is this the book for you! Man. Okay, some works are classics because they're really amazingly good—beautifully written, incisive, profound. Others are classics because they're super old. The Song of Roland, the oldest surviving piece of French literature, is definitely the latter and solely the latter. It is so bad. So bad it's at times deeply hilarious: the MST3K crew would have a field day with this thing. I'm almost tempted to rent the 1978 French film to see if it can attain the same level of ridiculousness, but Klaus Kinski and Co. probably actually tried to make it good. Mistake!
The basic plot of The Song of Roland is this: the Franks are fighting "the Pagans"—a motley crew whom the author(s) seems to think worship both Muhammad and Apollo. Accuracy! Anyway, Charlemagne—whose luxurious white beard is discussed to the point where one begins to fear that the author(s) wants to do something seriously inappropriate to it—leaves his nephew to guard a parcel of land in Spain that those pesky pagans have faux-surrendered. The pagans then attack Roland and his vastly outnumbered group of men. Roland refuses to blow his horn to call for reinforcements. Then a bunch of his dudes are beheaded and Roland's BFF Oliver is all, "Hey, maybe calling for those reinforcements would be a GOOD IDEA?" So Roland blows his horn. Of course, it's too late. We are told in detail how he and what feels like every other man in his army dies. Many of their deaths, such as Oliver's, cause Roland to swoon and pause the battle several pages in order to mourn, tear at his hair, etc.
When all of the Franks are dead, Charlemagne shows up and finds the body of his nephew. Up until this point, I thought Roland was a pretty good swooner. But it turns out he's no match for Charlemagne. When Charley swoons, "Five score thousand Franks swooned on the earth and fell." That is some champion swooning. No wonder he's king.
The rest of the book follows Charlemagne as he proves to the pagans that you wouldn't like him when he's angry. Then, in the last lines of the book, he rends his beard and sobs. Medieval French knights apparently cry more than Project Runway contestants. Who knew?
I almost gave this book a second star because it amused me so much. But no: it's total shit. Racist, intolerant, repetitive, and melodramatic enough to deserve its own Lifetime Original Movie. Uncle, May I Joust With Danger?: The Baron Roland Story. If another eleven-odd centuries pass and we somehow manage to lose this one, I won't be all that sorry.
Wow, thanks for that stunning piece of religious thinking, Roland!
If you like sophisticated metaphysical analysis such as that, as well as lavish descriptions of bowels and brains spilling out onto the ground, then boy howdy, is this the book for you! Man. Okay, some works are classics because they're really amazingly good—beautifully written, incisive, profound. Others are classics because they're super old. The Song of Roland, the oldest surviving piece of French literature, is definitely the latter and solely the latter. It is so bad. So bad it's at times deeply hilarious: the MST3K crew would have a field day with this thing. I'm almost tempted to rent the 1978 French film to see if it can attain the same level of ridiculousness, but Klaus Kinski and Co. probably actually tried to make it good. Mistake!
The basic plot of The Song of Roland is this: the Franks are fighting "the Pagans"—a motley crew whom the author(s) seems to think worship both Muhammad and Apollo. Accuracy! Anyway, Charlemagne—whose luxurious white beard is discussed to the point where one begins to fear that the author(s) wants to do something seriously inappropriate to it—leaves his nephew to guard a parcel of land in Spain that those pesky pagans have faux-surrendered. The pagans then attack Roland and his vastly outnumbered group of men. Roland refuses to blow his horn to call for reinforcements. Then a bunch of his dudes are beheaded and Roland's BFF Oliver is all, "Hey, maybe calling for those reinforcements would be a GOOD IDEA?" So Roland blows his horn. Of course, it's too late. We are told in detail how he and what feels like every other man in his army dies. Many of their deaths, such as Oliver's, cause Roland to swoon and pause the battle several pages in order to mourn, tear at his hair, etc.
When all of the Franks are dead, Charlemagne shows up and finds the body of his nephew. Up until this point, I thought Roland was a pretty good swooner. But it turns out he's no match for Charlemagne. When Charley swoons, "Five score thousand Franks swooned on the earth and fell." That is some champion swooning. No wonder he's king.
The rest of the book follows Charlemagne as he proves to the pagans that you wouldn't like him when he's angry. Then, in the last lines of the book, he rends his beard and sobs. Medieval French knights apparently cry more than Project Runway contestants. Who knew?
I almost gave this book a second star because it amused me so much. But no: it's total shit. Racist, intolerant, repetitive, and melodramatic enough to deserve its own Lifetime Original Movie. Uncle, May I Joust With Danger?: The Baron Roland Story. If another eleven-odd centuries pass and we somehow manage to lose this one, I won't be all that sorry.
Read
January 11, 2025This medieval poem is the oldest major work of French literature, later influencing works in German, Dutch, old Norse, and Italian (Ariosto’s Orlando Furioso). It’s a chanson de geste (song of deeds) that depicts the nested feuds between individuals Ganelon and Roland; nations France and Spain; and the wider world-war between Christianity and heathenism. It is stylistically symmetrical, such that all players have their antitheses in one another: every Christian knight meets his heathen equivalent. There are even some great extended metaphors, i.e. gloves and severed hands.
That said, I can’t take anyone seriously! 😈
We open with King Charlamagne in Spain on one of his crusades, having already seized all but one Spanish city. As depicted, the Spanish “heathens” worship both Mohammed and Apollo (amazing), and are convinced that Charlemagne is 200 years old (no one can persuade them otherwise). They mark their consensus upon treaty items by kissing one another on the neck, chin, face, and mouth. They make an enormous deal out of their plan to kill Charlemagne’s nephew, Roland, and his 11 friends; with these men out of the way, they argue, Charles will be decrowned, abandon the crusades, and, in fact, all of France shall become theirs (that is some extreme military logic!)
As for the French, when realizing they’re about to be ambushed by heathens, the knights ask Roland to blow the war-horn and call King Charlemagne to their aid. It’s curious that the King is within hearing distance of this famous horn, which his nephew proudly refuses to blow, but he cannot hear the din of hundreds of thousands of men and their war-horses slaughtering each other in battle. I guess his ear only picks up horns. When Roland and his pals meet the Spaniards in battle, they of course fight valiantly – but the poem overdoes their strength to a hilarious extent. Each Frenchman breaks through his enemy’s shield, armor, body, saddle, and even horse – splitting a man from the top of his helmet down through his horse’s spine with a single blow! Despite their valor, the French do a lot of crying and fainting, sometimes a hundred thousand men at a time.
This is the effect of reading a medieval chivalric epic from a 21st century POV, but it just felt so much like a work of satire!
That said, I can’t take anyone seriously! 😈
We open with King Charlamagne in Spain on one of his crusades, having already seized all but one Spanish city. As depicted, the Spanish “heathens” worship both Mohammed and Apollo (amazing), and are convinced that Charlemagne is 200 years old (no one can persuade them otherwise). They mark their consensus upon treaty items by kissing one another on the neck, chin, face, and mouth. They make an enormous deal out of their plan to kill Charlemagne’s nephew, Roland, and his 11 friends; with these men out of the way, they argue, Charles will be decrowned, abandon the crusades, and, in fact, all of France shall become theirs (that is some extreme military logic!)
As for the French, when realizing they’re about to be ambushed by heathens, the knights ask Roland to blow the war-horn and call King Charlemagne to their aid. It’s curious that the King is within hearing distance of this famous horn, which his nephew proudly refuses to blow, but he cannot hear the din of hundreds of thousands of men and their war-horses slaughtering each other in battle. I guess his ear only picks up horns. When Roland and his pals meet the Spaniards in battle, they of course fight valiantly – but the poem overdoes their strength to a hilarious extent. Each Frenchman breaks through his enemy’s shield, armor, body, saddle, and even horse – splitting a man from the top of his helmet down through his horse’s spine with a single blow! Despite their valor, the French do a lot of crying and fainting, sometimes a hundred thousand men at a time.
This is the effect of reading a medieval chivalric epic from a 21st century POV, but it just felt so much like a work of satire!
March 5, 2025
1) i'm just a girl
2) oszukali mnie w liceum
3) nigdy nie zagram w dnd czymś innym niż bardem
edit: 4) kocham rycerzy co najmniej jakbym była pięcioletnim chłopcem
2) oszukali mnie w liceum
3) nigdy nie zagram w dnd czymś innym niż bardem
edit: 4) kocham rycerzy co najmniej jakbym była pięcioletnim chłopcem
February 28, 2017
The Song of Roland is an epic poem based on the Battle of Roncevaux in 778, during the reign of Charlemagne.
The author is unknown, but could be Turold, as is mentioned in the last line: ‘Ici prend fin l’histoire que Turold raconte.’
It is among the oldest major works of French literature and was likely written in about 1080 to 1100.
The epic poem was a literary form that flourished between the eleventh and fifteenth centuries and celebrated deeds of legendary heroes.
It is, for the most part, the story of Charlemagne's heroic French Christian knights in battles
against the villain Muslim pagan soldiers of King Marsile of Saragossa in Spain.
The story is extremely well constructed, the language is simple and easy to read although quite repetitive throughout, but this was the style of an epic poem, then.
Compared to the underlying original minor historic event, the poem is hugely exaggerated in many ways.
The sad end of the heroic knight Roland after having been betrayed by one of his own peers is a heartbreak and there is not a single line of romance in the whole story to make up for it.
A must read for anybody interested in good old chivalry literature.
The author is unknown, but could be Turold, as is mentioned in the last line: ‘Ici prend fin l’histoire que Turold raconte.’
It is among the oldest major works of French literature and was likely written in about 1080 to 1100.
The epic poem was a literary form that flourished between the eleventh and fifteenth centuries and celebrated deeds of legendary heroes.
It is, for the most part, the story of Charlemagne's heroic French Christian knights in battles
against the villain Muslim pagan soldiers of King Marsile of Saragossa in Spain.
The story is extremely well constructed, the language is simple and easy to read although quite repetitive throughout, but this was the style of an epic poem, then.
Compared to the underlying original minor historic event, the poem is hugely exaggerated in many ways.
The sad end of the heroic knight Roland after having been betrayed by one of his own peers is a heartbreak and there is not a single line of romance in the whole story to make up for it.
A must read for anybody interested in good old chivalry literature.
April 16, 2022
French epic poem about Charlemagne and his best general Roland.
Plot. Rating 4
The plot of the poem is quite simple and consists of the components necessary for such a genre: betrayal, revenge, valor, duty, and faith. All plot events develop consistently and logically, if you do not take into account the medieval exaggerations and naivety of this poem, as well as many other epic poems. However, I liked that the plot of the poem did not end with the events connected with Roland; it has a significant sequel with an interesting second battle and other events.
Characters. Rating 4
The heroes of the poem have their own individual personalities, despite the fact that the genre forces them to be more one-dimensional and formulaic. The protagonist Roland is not a completely positive character; he makes big mistakes, but his courage, sensitivity and sense of duty lead to empathy for him. More than the main character, I liked his faithful companions: Olivier and the archbishop.
As befits an epic, the poem contains a large number of characters despite its small volume. Many of them are memorable, such as the unexpected defender of the main traitor of the book.
Dialogues. Rating 3
The dialogues of the work are determined by the genre. They are poetic, archetypal, simple and filled with frequent repetitions. In some places, the dialogue approaches reality, for example, in the dispute between Roland and Olivier.
Writing style. Rating 5
The text is very easy to read, its rhythm and words create good poetic magic even for people as inexperienced in poetry as myself. In addition, the exclamation at the end of the couplets and the battle cry of the French gave the poem a special excellent style.
Worldbuilding. Rating 4
There are strange passages in the poem, medieval ignorance, unbridled fury towards the enemy, and epic exaggerations. Heroes periodically faint from grief or excess of feelings. The main monotonous combat technique is cutting the enemy in half, without fail, along with the saddle and the unfortunate war horse. Hundreds of thousands of warriors are fighting on both sides on the slopes of the Pyrenees.
Nevertheless, there are many interesting lines in the text showing the customs of medieval people, the customs of war and peace, as well as details of everyday life. I liked the representation of the military contingents before the battles.
Conclusion. Overall rating 4
This is a good example of an epic poem that is easy to read and conveys a medieval flavor.
Plot. Rating 4
The plot of the poem is quite simple and consists of the components necessary for such a genre: betrayal, revenge, valor, duty, and faith. All plot events develop consistently and logically, if you do not take into account the medieval exaggerations and naivety of this poem, as well as many other epic poems. However, I liked that the plot of the poem did not end with the events connected with Roland; it has a significant sequel with an interesting second battle and other events.
Characters. Rating 4
The heroes of the poem have their own individual personalities, despite the fact that the genre forces them to be more one-dimensional and formulaic. The protagonist Roland is not a completely positive character; he makes big mistakes, but his courage, sensitivity and sense of duty lead to empathy for him. More than the main character, I liked his faithful companions: Olivier and the archbishop.
As befits an epic, the poem contains a large number of characters despite its small volume. Many of them are memorable, such as the unexpected defender of the main traitor of the book.
Dialogues. Rating 3
The dialogues of the work are determined by the genre. They are poetic, archetypal, simple and filled with frequent repetitions. In some places, the dialogue approaches reality, for example, in the dispute between Roland and Olivier.
Writing style. Rating 5
The text is very easy to read, its rhythm and words create good poetic magic even for people as inexperienced in poetry as myself. In addition, the exclamation at the end of the couplets and the battle cry of the French gave the poem a special excellent style.
Worldbuilding. Rating 4
There are strange passages in the poem, medieval ignorance, unbridled fury towards the enemy, and epic exaggerations. Heroes periodically faint from grief or excess of feelings. The main monotonous combat technique is cutting the enemy in half, without fail, along with the saddle and the unfortunate war horse. Hundreds of thousands of warriors are fighting on both sides on the slopes of the Pyrenees.
Nevertheless, there are many interesting lines in the text showing the customs of medieval people, the customs of war and peace, as well as details of everyday life. I liked the representation of the military contingents before the battles.
Conclusion. Overall rating 4
This is a good example of an epic poem that is easy to read and conveys a medieval flavor.
Read
June 25, 2023This may be the bloodiest song ever written. Charlemagne’s forces have largely defeated the Spanish Saracens, however, a contingent under King Marsile remains in Saragossa. To finish the Saracens off or head home? Charles ponders the question and decides to grant reprieve to Marsile who has accepted terms of acquiescence that include converting to Christianity.
Charles has been double-crossed, though. His emissary to Marsile, Count Ganelon has agreed to an alluring bribe and turned traitor. As Charles leads his forces back to Aix, Marsile’s troops attack the rearguard led by Roland, Charles’ nephew, at Rencesvals. Ganelon, Roland’s stepfather, arranged this trap. From a sense of honor, Roland at first declines to blow his oliphant in call for support. While he puts up a great defense with his sword Durendal, his forces meet slaughter. Roland reconsiders. Charles hears the oliphant from a distance and turns to rescue Roland, but it’s too late. Roland has died.
Charles exacts revenge. First on Marsile and his followers. Second on the traitor, Ganelon, who is dismembered, a high-spirited and swift warhorse tied to each limb, bright blood spilling onto the green grass. Never betray your king, in case you missed the message.
Charles has been double-crossed, though. His emissary to Marsile, Count Ganelon has agreed to an alluring bribe and turned traitor. As Charles leads his forces back to Aix, Marsile’s troops attack the rearguard led by Roland, Charles’ nephew, at Rencesvals. Ganelon, Roland’s stepfather, arranged this trap. From a sense of honor, Roland at first declines to blow his oliphant in call for support. While he puts up a great defense with his sword Durendal, his forces meet slaughter. Roland reconsiders. Charles hears the oliphant from a distance and turns to rescue Roland, but it’s too late. Roland has died.
Charles exacts revenge. First on Marsile and his followers. Second on the traitor, Ganelon, who is dismembered, a high-spirited and swift warhorse tied to each limb, bright blood spilling onto the green grass. Never betray your king, in case you missed the message.
July 19, 2023
Holy Charlemagne, this has been bloodier than any other epic I've ever read - so many battles, so much slaughter and death- a great 11th century Chanson De Geste - I was always partial to this term: a song of heroic deeds accomplished.
"While Charles sat in the shade the other morning,
his nephew came there, decked out in his byrnie—
he'd been out pillaging near Carcassonne.
He held a bright red apple in his hand.
"Here, fair sire," says Roland to his uncle,
"I offer you the crowns of all the kings."
Cheeky, as well. But enough about Roland. Let's talk about the Sword.
Durendal.
What a Sword.
A huge part of the Matter of France, the sword was forged by Wayland the Smith, a mysterious character that appears in many European epics of Germanic origin, including The Prose Edda, in the Völundarkviða: A Story of Völund, Northern Europe's Greatest Craftsman, in English, Old Norse, and Younger Futhark poem attesting the origin of the Saami people (Finns), the Icelandic Þorsteins saga Víkingssonar (telling the story of a blacksmith forging a magic sword and a magic ring, hello Professor Tolkien, nice meeting you here!) and Beowulf. His legend is even engraved on a rune stone image from the 8th century found in Sweden, see here.
According to the Song, the sword is supposed to be the sharpest sword in all existence and was brought by an angel to Charlemagne who then gave it to Roland. Within its golden hilt, the sword contains important religious relics: a tooth of Saint Peter, blood of Basil of Caesarea, hair of Saint Denis, and a piece of the raiment of Mary, mother of Jesus.
We turn to Andrea da Barberino and Matteo Maria Boiardo for a deeper history of Durendal, who trace the origin of the sword to Hector of Troy. They suggest the sword also belonged to the Amazonian Queen Penthesilea (Pliny credits her with the invention of the battle-axe, daughter of Ares- god of war) who fought on Troy's side until she was slain by Achilles himself but he is said to have looked in her eyes and fallen in love with the warrior at the moment she died.
This tragic tale of Achilles falling in love with the beautiful warrior Penthesilea at the moment of her death became popular in antiquity, according to the 4th century poem “Posthomerica” by Quintus Smyrnaeus:
"She was made a wonder of beauty even in her death by Aphrodite glorious-crowned, the bride of the strong War-god, to the end that he, the son of noble Peleus, might be pierced with the sharp arrow of repentant love… Achilles’ very heart was wrung with love’s remorse to have slain a thing so sweet, who he might have borne home, his queenly bride, to chariot-glorious Phthia; for she was flawless, a very daughter of the Gods, divinely tall, and most divinely fair."
"While Charles sat in the shade the other morning,
his nephew came there, decked out in his byrnie—
he'd been out pillaging near Carcassonne.
He held a bright red apple in his hand.
"Here, fair sire," says Roland to his uncle,
"I offer you the crowns of all the kings."
Cheeky, as well. But enough about Roland. Let's talk about the Sword.
Durendal.
What a Sword.
A huge part of the Matter of France, the sword was forged by Wayland the Smith, a mysterious character that appears in many European epics of Germanic origin, including The Prose Edda, in the Völundarkviða: A Story of Völund, Northern Europe's Greatest Craftsman, in English, Old Norse, and Younger Futhark poem attesting the origin of the Saami people (Finns), the Icelandic Þorsteins saga Víkingssonar (telling the story of a blacksmith forging a magic sword and a magic ring, hello Professor Tolkien, nice meeting you here!) and Beowulf. His legend is even engraved on a rune stone image from the 8th century found in Sweden, see here.
According to the Song, the sword is supposed to be the sharpest sword in all existence and was brought by an angel to Charlemagne who then gave it to Roland. Within its golden hilt, the sword contains important religious relics: a tooth of Saint Peter, blood of Basil of Caesarea, hair of Saint Denis, and a piece of the raiment of Mary, mother of Jesus.
We turn to Andrea da Barberino and Matteo Maria Boiardo for a deeper history of Durendal, who trace the origin of the sword to Hector of Troy. They suggest the sword also belonged to the Amazonian Queen Penthesilea (Pliny credits her with the invention of the battle-axe, daughter of Ares- god of war) who fought on Troy's side until she was slain by Achilles himself but he is said to have looked in her eyes and fallen in love with the warrior at the moment she died.
This tragic tale of Achilles falling in love with the beautiful warrior Penthesilea at the moment of her death became popular in antiquity, according to the 4th century poem “Posthomerica” by Quintus Smyrnaeus:
"She was made a wonder of beauty even in her death by Aphrodite glorious-crowned, the bride of the strong War-god, to the end that he, the son of noble Peleus, might be pierced with the sharp arrow of repentant love… Achilles’ very heart was wrung with love’s remorse to have slain a thing so sweet, who he might have borne home, his queenly bride, to chariot-glorious Phthia; for she was flawless, a very daughter of the Gods, divinely tall, and most divinely fair."
March 23, 2020
A third, I think, reread for me of this my first-ever medieval epic poem read when little and that sparked a love of True Knights™. It still like it as much as before even after all these decades.
Also, the name of California comes from a passage (". . . those of Califerne") in The Song of Roland. I'm dying on this hill!
Also, the name of California comes from a passage (". . . those of Califerne") in The Song of Roland. I'm dying on this hill!
March 26, 2012
This is an exemplary piece of epic literature that I really enjoyed reading. It was interesting to really see how flawed the European view of the Saracens of the Middle East was during the crusades. It really shows how not only were the views of the Europeans skewed, but it also relates to the views of many people today. When you ask a person about their view of Christianity, their answer will vary depending on where the person is from. We as people are often forced to make the same assumptions as those Europeans, thinking that if something is different from you (the other), it is inherantly evil. I think the Song of Roland illustrates this fact and so much more, and I thouroughly enjoyed what it had to provide.
August 26, 2009
There's not much to say about The Song of Roland. It's a great epic, of course. Dorothy L. Sayers' translation is a little more poetic than accurate. She also disconcertingly changes the spellings of character names for metrical reasons or else for assonance. That's confusing. The introduction is excellent, though. And, once you've got used to the name thing, the translation is very readable. I prefer Glyn S. Burgess' translation that has essentially replaced Sayers'. Perhaps it's not as literary (he doesn't try to reproduce the assonance of the original, for example), but it's also a very readable translation with an informative introduction.
January 11, 2011
After finishing The Song of Rolland, I am struck with how many arguments it raises for war and the justifications it seems to give for it. While there is much to point out from the text, I think the clearest examples of this process is found in the Christian symbols, defending the Franks position as “right,” and in dehumanizing the enemy.
It is difficult to leave Sunday school in our 21st century LDS paradigm and reasonably see how Rolland could be portrayed as a Christ figure. For me, the major problem I had with that image initially was that he seems to have so much pride that he is blinded from reason and cannot even stoop to ask for help when his life, and also the lives of the ones he loves, are in jeopardy. Even Charlemagne admits that Rolland’s great pride is a “wonder that God has stood it for so long” (1774). Yet, the important thing to realize here is that if we were to be living during the time when this text was written we would have very different ideas of what an ideal Christ should be. I could not help but notice the many similarities found in Beowulf. Because of the prevalence of war, portraying Christ as a warrior type figure was seen as the ideal to society. Beowulf frustrated me a great deal because of his pride issues from my perspective, yet he was revered for it. It is texts like these that allow us to see what society was like back then and what their values were. I think here with Rolland it is the same case. Pride is not what we would think of it in our paradigm today.
More Christian symbols that seem to justify the war against Spain are all over this text. We have the swords, which resemble the cross, the Bishop’s weapon, and also the pretense itself. The whole reason why Charlemagne is in the right to go an invade countries like Spain is that he is bringing about Christianity and a higher law to the “pagans.” Constantly the text defends this position by showing God’s favoritism on the Frank side. We see places where God’s will is done, or when angels come and give aid, but then we see nothing but frustration on the pagan side. In addition, we see multiple exclamations of the whole “I am right and you are wrong” argument. This, I believe, is necessary to ensure us that the Franks are justified in their war. Sure Rolland is killed, and they pray in order to properly revenge him (which does not seem to coincide with the Sermon on the Mount), but there were sons and brothers and other loved ones lost on the Spanish side that we are not to give notice to (3109). In order to keep us doubtless on the good side, we are given messages like “you well know that I am in the right against the pagans” (3412) and “we are right, but these wretches are wrong” (1211).
And last, in order to properly defend the Franks as in the right, it is necessary to dehumanize the enemy. The description of their homeland is a place “where the sun does not shine…rain does not fall,” the land is black, and it is a place where “some say that the devil lives,” presenting a dark image of what we are to believe is innately bad (980-983). The people are constantly referred to as “pagans,” yet anyone with any basic background knowledge of world religions knows that “Muhammad” and “Apollo” are never going to be found in the same sentence coming from a Muslim (2580-2590). Yet, the text throws all of these other religions into that “other” category, assuming that they are blatantly wrong, and that there is no need to separate them out. Ironically, I could not help but see that when Charlemagne says, “you can avenge yourself of this criminal race,” it sounds an awful lot like the jihad most people understand from Islam that defends violent behavior if it is at a great moral cause. Granted I am not an expert in Islam and I think our general notion of what the jihad means in our society could use some clarification, but in this case I think we are shown a striking similarity between the good and the bad sides of this story.
Of course, all of these justifications come to nothing when at the end of the story Charlemagne is called to battle against some other pagans, though having “no wish to go” (3999-4002). Yet he will ride off again in defense of yet another war, and the cycle will start all over again. This exposes the fallacy in Ganelon’s argument to King Marsile, that if you engage in this war “you will have no more war as long as you live” (595). Based on this text, I am left to believe that war is not a means to bring about peace.
It is difficult to leave Sunday school in our 21st century LDS paradigm and reasonably see how Rolland could be portrayed as a Christ figure. For me, the major problem I had with that image initially was that he seems to have so much pride that he is blinded from reason and cannot even stoop to ask for help when his life, and also the lives of the ones he loves, are in jeopardy. Even Charlemagne admits that Rolland’s great pride is a “wonder that God has stood it for so long” (1774). Yet, the important thing to realize here is that if we were to be living during the time when this text was written we would have very different ideas of what an ideal Christ should be. I could not help but notice the many similarities found in Beowulf. Because of the prevalence of war, portraying Christ as a warrior type figure was seen as the ideal to society. Beowulf frustrated me a great deal because of his pride issues from my perspective, yet he was revered for it. It is texts like these that allow us to see what society was like back then and what their values were. I think here with Rolland it is the same case. Pride is not what we would think of it in our paradigm today.
More Christian symbols that seem to justify the war against Spain are all over this text. We have the swords, which resemble the cross, the Bishop’s weapon, and also the pretense itself. The whole reason why Charlemagne is in the right to go an invade countries like Spain is that he is bringing about Christianity and a higher law to the “pagans.” Constantly the text defends this position by showing God’s favoritism on the Frank side. We see places where God’s will is done, or when angels come and give aid, but then we see nothing but frustration on the pagan side. In addition, we see multiple exclamations of the whole “I am right and you are wrong” argument. This, I believe, is necessary to ensure us that the Franks are justified in their war. Sure Rolland is killed, and they pray in order to properly revenge him (which does not seem to coincide with the Sermon on the Mount), but there were sons and brothers and other loved ones lost on the Spanish side that we are not to give notice to (3109). In order to keep us doubtless on the good side, we are given messages like “you well know that I am in the right against the pagans” (3412) and “we are right, but these wretches are wrong” (1211).
And last, in order to properly defend the Franks as in the right, it is necessary to dehumanize the enemy. The description of their homeland is a place “where the sun does not shine…rain does not fall,” the land is black, and it is a place where “some say that the devil lives,” presenting a dark image of what we are to believe is innately bad (980-983). The people are constantly referred to as “pagans,” yet anyone with any basic background knowledge of world religions knows that “Muhammad” and “Apollo” are never going to be found in the same sentence coming from a Muslim (2580-2590). Yet, the text throws all of these other religions into that “other” category, assuming that they are blatantly wrong, and that there is no need to separate them out. Ironically, I could not help but see that when Charlemagne says, “you can avenge yourself of this criminal race,” it sounds an awful lot like the jihad most people understand from Islam that defends violent behavior if it is at a great moral cause. Granted I am not an expert in Islam and I think our general notion of what the jihad means in our society could use some clarification, but in this case I think we are shown a striking similarity between the good and the bad sides of this story.
Of course, all of these justifications come to nothing when at the end of the story Charlemagne is called to battle against some other pagans, though having “no wish to go” (3999-4002). Yet he will ride off again in defense of yet another war, and the cycle will start all over again. This exposes the fallacy in Ganelon’s argument to King Marsile, that if you engage in this war “you will have no more war as long as you live” (595). Based on this text, I am left to believe that war is not a means to bring about peace.
November 11, 2022
La Chanson de Roland. My first acquaintance with this epic poem was in Richard Barber’s tract on chivalry: The Knight and Chivalry, in which he analyzes the epic at length. Reading that book, I was unprepared for the emphasis he placed on chansons de geste and chivalric romances, and their importance in the development of and our understanding of Medieval chivalry and knighthood. A trip to library is certainly in store for me, because I am eager to read through his analysis of The Song of Roland again, now that I have read it myself, in translation.
Since that initial discovery, as is so often the case with fundamental texts, pieces of art, and ideas, I have encountered the epic in various guises and forms. The story of Roland is a common thread in medieval artwork—in manuscript illuminations and paintings, and in stained-glass windows. It is also a forerunner and inspiration to 16th century, Renaissance epic Orlando Furioso by Ludovico Ariosto. These associations inspired in me an interest and sense of curiosity concerning the poem. Ultimately, my decision to seek it out was sparked by Don Quixote, which I have recently embarked upon. In the opening pages and chapters of that novel, we are told about the knight’s passion for, his obsession with chivalric romances—including Orlando Furioso. I thought to myself, surely there is no better time to read the story of Roland than at the present moment.
So I went to the library and was fortunate to find a copy: the edition translated by Frederick Goldin and published by Norton in 1978 which, I gather, is less widespread than either of the versions published by Penguin. A word about the translation and this edition before I get to the poem itself. My impression of the translation is that Goldin sought to imitate the style and force and, most importantly, the meaning of the original language over everything else. He writes that:
Rendered into English by Goldin, this epic poem, this song, loses its lyrical, if not its poetic quality. From the extracts of the original included in the introduction, it appears that original had a consistent rhyming scheme. There is no rhyming whatever in this translation. The meter is awkward, too, and Goldin acknowledges this. I read it out loud, and what a far cry from the singing of the original by skilled and practiced bards it must have been to hear me (which, fortunately, no one had the dubious pleasure of). If it sounds like I have been overly critical in my assessment of this translation, that is not my intent. To my understanding, Goldin made the conscious decision to sacrifice the lyrical quality of the text in favor of presenting it so as to imitate as closely as possible its unique and distinctive style, and the forceful effect of the words. I would love to read another translation in the future, to compare and contrast.
Now to the poem itself. The text presented in translation here is dated to the late 11th century, though it stems from centuries of oral tradition. It weaves a tale from the days of Charlemagne, some three hundred years before the date of the manuscript. Roland, a relative and vassal of Charlemagne, is betrayed by Ganelon, another vassal, and commits himself and the entire rearguard of Charlemagne army to martyrdom in the passes of the Pyrenees. There is a speck of resemblance to a real historical event, but the poem is so obviously and so intentionally divorced from reality that it is idle to compare the two.
The Song of Roland is an emphatic statement of Christian belief and the rightness of a unified, Christian state, represented by Charlemagne and his empire. The theme is hardly subtle, but there are layers to it. One of the most striking aspects of the story is the symmetry between the protagonists and the antagonists. The same exact words and phrases that describe Roland and Oliver are used for their equivalents amongst the pagans. They have the same armor; the same helmets; they are all knights, and fight with lance, shield, and sword. Of course, in oral epics like this, standard phrases and formulas are common fare and an essential tool for the performers. But the need for formula does not adequately explain the symmetry between pagan and Christian. It is a narrative choice to emphasize that the only difference between them is their religion, otherwise they are equals. Roland’s faith is what elevates him to the status of a martyr and hero instead of being a reckless, selfish, glory-hound.
The real antagonist of the story is Ganelon, the traitor. The pagans (who, though ostensibly Islamic, are really just proxies for any and all non-Christians) are wrong only because they put their faith in the wrong deities, according to the narrator. Ganelon, on the other hand, is a Christian who betrays Roland and Charlemagne. At the very end of the poem, his error is proved by the judicial duel fought for his trial. When his champion is killed, it is a sign from God that he was in the wrong, that he is guilty.
While the themes are not to my liking (not even Roland’s martial martyrdom), I am happy I read The Song of Roland. I even enjoyed reading it as an important piece of literature and for its direct, uncompromising lines. The language is oddly phrased, often clumsy and awkward, but it has a confidence, an unshakeable conviction which lends the words a unique power. Certainly, there is no other work I know that can be compared to this epic.
Finally, the lengthy introduction that Goldin provides in this edition is superb. He provides good context to the origins of the work as well as a summary of much of the scholarship on it. He also writes persuasively on his interpretations of the poem, including a fascinating analogy between Roland and the infamous George Armstrong Custer. His critical introduction enhanced my reading of the work, for which I am grateful.
I have decided to rate this as three stars, even though I think it is meaningless to rank such a piece as this, or to compare it with pretty much anything else I have read. The rating is more a reflection of my satisfaction at having now read this once-significant work, and thus having the knowledge to see its influence on other works.
Since that initial discovery, as is so often the case with fundamental texts, pieces of art, and ideas, I have encountered the epic in various guises and forms. The story of Roland is a common thread in medieval artwork—in manuscript illuminations and paintings, and in stained-glass windows. It is also a forerunner and inspiration to 16th century, Renaissance epic Orlando Furioso by Ludovico Ariosto. These associations inspired in me an interest and sense of curiosity concerning the poem. Ultimately, my decision to seek it out was sparked by Don Quixote, which I have recently embarked upon. In the opening pages and chapters of that novel, we are told about the knight’s passion for, his obsession with chivalric romances—including Orlando Furioso. I thought to myself, surely there is no better time to read the story of Roland than at the present moment.
So I went to the library and was fortunate to find a copy: the edition translated by Frederick Goldin and published by Norton in 1978 which, I gather, is less widespread than either of the versions published by Penguin. A word about the translation and this edition before I get to the poem itself. My impression of the translation is that Goldin sought to imitate the style and force and, most importantly, the meaning of the original language over everything else. He writes that:
the translation is literal in the following sense: there is nothing in it that is not present, implicitly or explicitly, in the original. This gives the translator a loophole a mile wide. But to translate strictly according to the letter—to ignore what is there simply because it is not there in black and white—is to be guilty of a crime against the poem not unlike Ganelon’s against the state” (47).
Rendered into English by Goldin, this epic poem, this song, loses its lyrical, if not its poetic quality. From the extracts of the original included in the introduction, it appears that original had a consistent rhyming scheme. There is no rhyming whatever in this translation. The meter is awkward, too, and Goldin acknowledges this. I read it out loud, and what a far cry from the singing of the original by skilled and practiced bards it must have been to hear me (which, fortunately, no one had the dubious pleasure of). If it sounds like I have been overly critical in my assessment of this translation, that is not my intent. To my understanding, Goldin made the conscious decision to sacrifice the lyrical quality of the text in favor of presenting it so as to imitate as closely as possible its unique and distinctive style, and the forceful effect of the words. I would love to read another translation in the future, to compare and contrast.
Now to the poem itself. The text presented in translation here is dated to the late 11th century, though it stems from centuries of oral tradition. It weaves a tale from the days of Charlemagne, some three hundred years before the date of the manuscript. Roland, a relative and vassal of Charlemagne, is betrayed by Ganelon, another vassal, and commits himself and the entire rearguard of Charlemagne army to martyrdom in the passes of the Pyrenees. There is a speck of resemblance to a real historical event, but the poem is so obviously and so intentionally divorced from reality that it is idle to compare the two.
The Song of Roland is an emphatic statement of Christian belief and the rightness of a unified, Christian state, represented by Charlemagne and his empire. The theme is hardly subtle, but there are layers to it. One of the most striking aspects of the story is the symmetry between the protagonists and the antagonists. The same exact words and phrases that describe Roland and Oliver are used for their equivalents amongst the pagans. They have the same armor; the same helmets; they are all knights, and fight with lance, shield, and sword. Of course, in oral epics like this, standard phrases and formulas are common fare and an essential tool for the performers. But the need for formula does not adequately explain the symmetry between pagan and Christian. It is a narrative choice to emphasize that the only difference between them is their religion, otherwise they are equals. Roland’s faith is what elevates him to the status of a martyr and hero instead of being a reckless, selfish, glory-hound.
The real antagonist of the story is Ganelon, the traitor. The pagans (who, though ostensibly Islamic, are really just proxies for any and all non-Christians) are wrong only because they put their faith in the wrong deities, according to the narrator. Ganelon, on the other hand, is a Christian who betrays Roland and Charlemagne. At the very end of the poem, his error is proved by the judicial duel fought for his trial. When his champion is killed, it is a sign from God that he was in the wrong, that he is guilty.
While the themes are not to my liking (not even Roland’s martial martyrdom), I am happy I read The Song of Roland. I even enjoyed reading it as an important piece of literature and for its direct, uncompromising lines. The language is oddly phrased, often clumsy and awkward, but it has a confidence, an unshakeable conviction which lends the words a unique power. Certainly, there is no other work I know that can be compared to this epic.
Finally, the lengthy introduction that Goldin provides in this edition is superb. He provides good context to the origins of the work as well as a summary of much of the scholarship on it. He also writes persuasively on his interpretations of the poem, including a fascinating analogy between Roland and the infamous George Armstrong Custer. His critical introduction enhanced my reading of the work, for which I am grateful.
I have decided to rate this as three stars, even though I think it is meaningless to rank such a piece as this, or to compare it with pretty much anything else I have read. The rating is more a reflection of my satisfaction at having now read this once-significant work, and thus having the knowledge to see its influence on other works.
September 11, 2022
O nestemată a literaturii medievale de care franceza veche mă desparte și pe care sunt condamnată să o citesc într-o română rimată stângaci. Chiar și așa...e frumoasă de numa numa.
"Roland privește peste munți și văi
Îi vede pretutindeni morți pe-ai săi
Ș-i plînge ca un nobil cavaler:
,,Va răsplătească Domnul cel din cer!
Iar sufletele-n rai să vă primească
Si printre sfinte flori vă odihnească!
Vasali ca voi nici cînd n-au mai trăit.
Loiali de-a rândul bine m-ați slujit,
Regele-a-nvins cu voi țări și popoare
Dar v-a crescut spre marea-i întristare!
O dulce Franță, tu pămînt iubit,
Negru zăbranic astăzi te-a cernit!
Din vina mea baronii au pierit,
Să-i apăr, să-i ajut, n-am izbutit;
Pe Dumnezeul Sfânt Tatăl Ceresc,
Olivier, frate, nu te părăsesc,
Si de nu cad în luptă, mor de-amar.
Prieten drag, haide la luptă iar!”
"
"Roland privește peste munți și văi
Îi vede pretutindeni morți pe-ai săi
Ș-i plînge ca un nobil cavaler:
,,Va răsplătească Domnul cel din cer!
Iar sufletele-n rai să vă primească
Si printre sfinte flori vă odihnească!
Vasali ca voi nici cînd n-au mai trăit.
Loiali de-a rândul bine m-ați slujit,
Regele-a-nvins cu voi țări și popoare
Dar v-a crescut spre marea-i întristare!
O dulce Franță, tu pămînt iubit,
Negru zăbranic astăzi te-a cernit!
Din vina mea baronii au pierit,
Să-i apăr, să-i ajut, n-am izbutit;
Pe Dumnezeul Sfânt Tatăl Ceresc,
Olivier, frate, nu te părăsesc,
Si de nu cad în luptă, mor de-amar.
Prieten drag, haide la luptă iar!”
"
September 23, 2019
3.5? 4? 4.5?
August 5, 2025
My original review read thus:
"In a way, it’s rather sad that this is commonly held to be a paragon of medieval poetic literature, since it shows just how great the lacuna is between late antiquity and the 13th century artistic revival. The convincing nature of some of its techniques and the odd, rather unremarkable artistic physique of the 'hero' are not enough to save it from its dull didacticism and crude appropriation of the epic genre. This is one of a very few works commonly held in great esteem that I do not understand the merit of."
This is, quite simply, the complaint of one completely unattuned to the medieval way of doing literature. In the interim, I've read several other romances and allegorical works of the Middle Ages—enough to develop a taste and appreciation for their very, very un-modern worldview and almost completely alien ideas of good literary technique. So naturally, I enjoyed the read much more this time around. There are strong, vigorous metaphors; excellent rounded characters (on the Christian side, at least...) and some truly wonderful moments such as the king's visions and prayers while reclining in the grass. The poet was certainly no hack, and I like Robert Harrison's rendering into an iambic pentameter that is nonetheless nowhere as smooth as Shakespeare or Milton's for a very good reason (I've also read the Glyn Burgess translation for Penguin, which is much less poetic, has a very boring introduction compared to the Signet edition, and is thus not recommended). But it can be hard to pick these virtues out when the average style of the thing is like this:
"And Engelier, the Gascon from Bordeaux,
first spurs his horse, then, slackening his rein,
goes out to fight with Escremiz of Valterne.
He cracks his shield and knocks it from his neck
and rips into his hauberk at the gorget
and hits his throat between the collarbones;
he throws the corpse a spear's length from the saddle,
and tells him afterward, 'Now you're in hell!'"
How does one react to this other than by laughing? Even so, we must be very careful not to ridicule or minimize the work because this would be to make a mockery of the rich earnestness of the medieval mind. It does seem to me as if the"pagan" elements on display here (for me, "paganism" is defined more by what it lacks than what it propounds) are more severe than are found in Beowulf. This is not to say that it is bereft of Christian verities. The more one studies this poem, the more one detects that its author is increasingly uncomfortable with the cartoonish facade that he tries to put forth. It is a world, like that of the Iliad, where the glory of bloodshed is exalted by its principal characters, only to run headfirst into the dire misgivings and complexities that naturally result when men fight each other under the eye of God. Look a little bit beneath those apparently silly caricatured battle scenes and you will detect notes of deeply conflicted melancholy. The Song of Roland is not in all regards a lofty, noble utterance in form nor content, but it belongs in the Great Conversation because, like all works that are typical of an epoch, it glorifies the assumptions of the age while simultaneously wrestling feverishly with them. Affirmation that is not severed from critique, subversiveness as bedfellow of celebration—such is the bedrock of the Song of Roland, a dichotomy which manages to lift it into the pantheon of great works despite, or perhaps even because of, its wild faults. Case in point: this is how the poet chooses to send us off.
"The emperor, on meting out his justice
and satisfying his enormous rage,
led Bramimonde to Christianity.
The day goes by, and night comes quietly:
the king has lain down in his vaulted chamber.
Saint Gabriel came down from God to say:
'Call up the armies of your empire, Charles,
for you are to invade the land of Bire
and there assist King Vivien at Imphe,
the city which the pagans have besieged;
the Christians there call out and cry for you.'
The emperor had no desire to go:
the king cries: 'God, how tiring is my life!'
His eyes shed tears, he tugs at his white beard."
It is almost inexplicable if one tries to read this conclusion from the perspective that the poem is blustering crusader propaganda. This, indeed, is high elegiac literature.
"In a way, it’s rather sad that this is commonly held to be a paragon of medieval poetic literature, since it shows just how great the lacuna is between late antiquity and the 13th century artistic revival. The convincing nature of some of its techniques and the odd, rather unremarkable artistic physique of the 'hero' are not enough to save it from its dull didacticism and crude appropriation of the epic genre. This is one of a very few works commonly held in great esteem that I do not understand the merit of."
This is, quite simply, the complaint of one completely unattuned to the medieval way of doing literature. In the interim, I've read several other romances and allegorical works of the Middle Ages—enough to develop a taste and appreciation for their very, very un-modern worldview and almost completely alien ideas of good literary technique. So naturally, I enjoyed the read much more this time around. There are strong, vigorous metaphors; excellent rounded characters (on the Christian side, at least...) and some truly wonderful moments such as the king's visions and prayers while reclining in the grass. The poet was certainly no hack, and I like Robert Harrison's rendering into an iambic pentameter that is nonetheless nowhere as smooth as Shakespeare or Milton's for a very good reason (I've also read the Glyn Burgess translation for Penguin, which is much less poetic, has a very boring introduction compared to the Signet edition, and is thus not recommended). But it can be hard to pick these virtues out when the average style of the thing is like this:
"And Engelier, the Gascon from Bordeaux,
first spurs his horse, then, slackening his rein,
goes out to fight with Escremiz of Valterne.
He cracks his shield and knocks it from his neck
and rips into his hauberk at the gorget
and hits his throat between the collarbones;
he throws the corpse a spear's length from the saddle,
and tells him afterward, 'Now you're in hell!'"
How does one react to this other than by laughing? Even so, we must be very careful not to ridicule or minimize the work because this would be to make a mockery of the rich earnestness of the medieval mind. It does seem to me as if the"pagan" elements on display here (for me, "paganism" is defined more by what it lacks than what it propounds) are more severe than are found in Beowulf. This is not to say that it is bereft of Christian verities. The more one studies this poem, the more one detects that its author is increasingly uncomfortable with the cartoonish facade that he tries to put forth. It is a world, like that of the Iliad, where the glory of bloodshed is exalted by its principal characters, only to run headfirst into the dire misgivings and complexities that naturally result when men fight each other under the eye of God. Look a little bit beneath those apparently silly caricatured battle scenes and you will detect notes of deeply conflicted melancholy. The Song of Roland is not in all regards a lofty, noble utterance in form nor content, but it belongs in the Great Conversation because, like all works that are typical of an epoch, it glorifies the assumptions of the age while simultaneously wrestling feverishly with them. Affirmation that is not severed from critique, subversiveness as bedfellow of celebration—such is the bedrock of the Song of Roland, a dichotomy which manages to lift it into the pantheon of great works despite, or perhaps even because of, its wild faults. Case in point: this is how the poet chooses to send us off.
"The emperor, on meting out his justice
and satisfying his enormous rage,
led Bramimonde to Christianity.
The day goes by, and night comes quietly:
the king has lain down in his vaulted chamber.
Saint Gabriel came down from God to say:
'Call up the armies of your empire, Charles,
for you are to invade the land of Bire
and there assist King Vivien at Imphe,
the city which the pagans have besieged;
the Christians there call out and cry for you.'
The emperor had no desire to go:
the king cries: 'God, how tiring is my life!'
His eyes shed tears, he tugs at his white beard."
It is almost inexplicable if one tries to read this conclusion from the perspective that the poem is blustering crusader propaganda. This, indeed, is high elegiac literature.
Read
May 6, 2023Deadly seriousness, not a shred of humor. Heroism dominates everything. This book clearly can be placed in the tradition of Charlemagne worship, but it is also truly Christian (against the pagans).
Nevertheless there's some nuance: the pagan knights are also portrayed as courageous.
Literary level sometimes very deficient: unexpected twists, contradictions and so on.
Nevertheless there's some nuance: the pagan knights are also portrayed as courageous.
Literary level sometimes very deficient: unexpected twists, contradictions and so on.
December 2, 2022
Kazali mi to przeczytać na zajęcia I tak nie przeczytałem guwno zasrane zarzygane nie podoba mi się
September 26, 2024
Dying by a trumpet is embarrassing
Displaying 1 - 30 of 1,227 reviews