Exploring the creation of the El Cid legend over the centuries, t his masterful and evocative biography peels away the layers of myth to reveal the real-life historical figure.
El Cid was perhaps the most famous warrior involved in the indiscriminate fighting—irrespective of religion—on the Iberian Peninsula during the eleventh century.
In the centuries after his death, he was transformed into a perfect Christian knight. In modernity, he was seen as the incarnation of Spain’s special national character—Franco chose El Cid as the emblem of Nationalist Spain. Yet not only those on the political right, but many others, including academics and those on the political left, were in his thrall. He has been promoted both as the forerunner of white supremacists and of multiculturalism.
How can we explain such a stupendous afterlife, and how can El Cid be a hero for so many different people? To begin to understand that, we must try to understand the truth buried beneath the myth.
Nora Berend explores the creation of the legends over the centuries and reveals those active in its making. Medieval monks, the women in El Cid’s family, a playwright, and a historian are among the creators of the mythic Cid. This riveting narrative seeks to explain their motives, and in so doing peels away the layers of legend to evoke the real-life historical figure.
El Cid: The Life and Afterlife of a Medieval Mercenary by Nora Berend
Summary: What's fact and what's myth in the life of El Cid, Rodrigo Diaz? Berend tackles historical and nonhistorical records to reveal how El Cid might not be the virtuous, loyal Christina champion many of us picture.
The first 20% of the book focuses on the actual life of this medieval Spanish knight (1040ish-1099). The remaining pages examine El Cid afterlife's media portrayal and the propaganda that elevated him to legendary, near-saintly status. The central idea here is that he was transformed from the actual warlord he was into, well, whatever the church or country leaders needed to mold him into for their own agendas.
While I was hoping for more on Diaz' actual life, Berend's breakdown on the myth-building process significantly altered my understanding of real El Cid.
And yes, like many 30-somethings, I first heard about El Cid Campeador through Age of Empires many years ago.
When Berend makes the ahistorical claim “The northerners were primarily interested in plundering the earthly paradise in Al-Andalus[.]” in the first chapter I knew we were in for a long, AWFL interpretation of history. She seems to have forgotten that the Muslim “paradise” she writes about was taken by forced Muslim expansion. When she goes to great lengths to justify the Muslim Dhimmi caste system, which treats any non-Muslim as a second class citizen, again, I knew i was reading a book by a sad leftist professor. I stuck through it, and parts of it were good, but overall, her political biases and underlying desired narrative made this a very tough read. Wouldn’t recommend unless you prefer rewriting history in a woke manner similar to the 1619 Project.
This book serves as a biography of the meagre facts known of El Cid, follower of the legend's development and student of its use in political propaganda. It debunks a lot of myths and provides historical context to life, legend and afterlife. Not just of interest to the student of medieval history, it also is a beneficial read for anyone interested in the growth and spread of legend and its many uses in later history.
Abysmal. I was excited to learn about a major historical figure that I don’t know a ton about. I understand that in biographies, leanings can be real and sometimes it’s best to have a biography written by a somewhat skeptical biographer to get the best possible product. Nora Brenda however is an author who, in my honest opinion, should have never attempted to write a book. I’m alright with a few political statements but when the first 30 pages are mostly made up of political opinions I have no desire to continue. This theme of the detective historian “debunking” the story of historical figures never ends up being anything more than someone writing a biography about someone they hate.
I could not finish this book and wrestled with the thought of just throwing it away. I will be walking past any further books by this author.
In the early chapters of the book, Berend seems to maintain a scholarly impartiality. As she writes more about how El Cid evolved from Eleventh Century warlord to Spanish hero and legend, however, rather than criticizing the propagandists of each age, she more and more frequently blames long-dead Rodrigo Diaz himself. This is my biggest quarrel with the book and the main reason I didn’t rate it higher. Saying that the CID shouldn’t have been made a hero hundreds of years ago based on Twenty-First Century sensibilities is kind of beside the point. It happened. Whining about it now won’t change that and neither will blaming Diaz for being a man of his time and, apparently, very good at his job.
I didn’t fact check the entire book, but what I did check was accurate with one exception. And that exception required no research. In fact, any movie buff, even one who had never seen the film, could tell you that the caption to the photo of the actors with the director misidentifies Genevieve Page (Princess Urraca) as Sophia Loren (Jimena).
I’m glad I read the book. Do I appreciate knowing the truth about the real Rodrigo Diaz de Vivar and how he has been used and abused through the centuries? Absolutely. Will it lessen the thrill of watching the dead Cid charging down the beach on his white Andalusian stallion banners flying? Absolutely not.
Impressive command of different topics—medieval legal documents and literary/propaganda texts; early modern visual art and objects; historiography; 20th Century political history and cultural criticism—into one shortish volume.
Reasonable argument that “El Cid” WAS a fairly successful, opportunistic knight in a Medieval Spain with fluid political and religious dynamics—at once aristocrat, mercenary, and brigand—and now IS some kind of barnacled, mythical superhero to be celebrated in different ways by the Spanish left and, especially, the heirs of the murderous Francoist right, in ways that are totally unmoored from the historical person and his relations.
Too bad the prose is a little plodding, when not repetitive.
When does reality, become myth, that becomes legend that becomes fact. Such is the story of Rodrigo Diaz de Vivar born circa 1043 and dying 1099. He was of service to both Christian and Muslim rulers and even though he fought against both, he earned the Arabic honorific as-Sayyid (The lord or master) that would evolve to El Cid in Spanish or the Spanish honorific El Campeador (the Champion). Over the next 900 years poems and stories were written about him that in later centuries would almost become fact. Francisco Franco adapted the story of El Cid to strengthen his Nationalist Party as they fought to take over Spain and during his dictatorship rule from 1939 – 1975. The author, Nora Berend, does a superb job in researching the facts about Rodrigo and the subsequent writings about him not only in Spain, but each country in Europe, that over the centuries, had a story of how El Cid was connected to their dynasties. Growing up, one of my al time favorite movies and very top knight movies is the 1961 movie, El Cid, starring Charleton Heston and Sophia Lauren (the author does indicate which parts of the film are total fiction). Not only did I have an El Cid knight in my knight/castle collection, but we also visited Burgos, Spain (1967) very close to the birthplace of El Cid where they have numerous statues honoring him. I listened to the book narrated by Sophie Roberts.
(3.5 stars) (Audiobook) This work looks at not only the actual life of El Cid, but how the legend of the life of El Cid evolved in the near millennium since his life. Of the actual biographical information of the real man, there isn’t a whole lot of ground truth out there. What primary sources exist indicate that Rodrigo was not the great holy leader he would later be portrayed as in literature and art, but more of a particular ruthless and effective mercenary, who fought as much against fellow Christians as he did the Moors who held sway over much of Spain. The bulk of the work ends up focusing on how the legend of El Cid evolved over time, mainly to fit the agenda and values of those telling the tale, from various religious figures in Spain to the Franco regime using El Cid as a symbol to justify the Franco regime.
My main exposure to El Cid came in Spanish classes, where we learned a little bit about the life of Cid as well watching the Charlton Heston film. It is a work that doesn’t get a lot of play now, but the legend of El Cid still has a place in modern work. That legend, arguably far removed from the actual man, doesn’t fit into either the left or right’s idea, but they will take what they can.
The work is engaging, but it can seem to get too bogged down in the legend and artistry. Would have been nicer to get more focus on the man, but perhaps that is the limitation of primary sources on the man. Worth a library checkout, but probably not one to live on the home book shelf.
A Measured and Meticulous Portrait of a Spanish Legend
History, like politics, is often less about facts and more about interpretations, and few figures have suffered—or benefited—more from interpretative embellishment than Rodrigo Díaz de Vivar, better known as El Cid. A warrior of legendary stature in medieval Spain, El Cid has been cast alternately as a chivalric hero, a crusading Christian knight, and, more recently, as a pragmatic mercenary navigating the tangled alliances of the 11th-century Iberian Peninsula.
In El Cid, historian Nora Berend wades into this well-plowed but still fertile historical ground with a careful and scholarly, if at times dense, assessment of the man and the myth. A medievalist of considerable repute, Berend is less interested in perpetuating romanticized fables than she is in offering a measured, rigorously researched account of who El Cid was and, more importantly, how he was perceived by his contemporaries.
Her book provides a refreshing antidote to the simplistic portrayals that have long defined El Cid in both popular imagination and nationalist propaganda. Rather than a shining knight on a white horse, she presents a figure emblematic of his time—a skilled warrior, certainly, but also a man navigating the shifting loyalties and complex power struggles of a peninsula torn between Christian and Muslim rule.
Berend’s prose is clear, methodical, and well-argued, if not particularly lyrical. This is a book for the patient reader, one willing to follow its careful, often meticulous unraveling of historical sources and narratives. It is neither a swashbuckling adventure nor a sweeping biography in the mold of, say, a David McCullough work, but rather an intellectual exercise in historical demystification. That is not a flaw but a feature, though those seeking a more dramatized account may find themselves yearning for a bit more flourish.
The book’s greatest strength lies in its unflinching commitment to context. Berend refuses to impose modern sensibilities onto the past, recognizing that El Cid’s alliances with Muslim rulers were neither evidence of a proto-multicultural ethos nor betrayals of some imagined civilizational clash. Instead, she presents a world governed by realpolitik, where loyalty was contingent, power was fluid, and survival was often the only moral compass.
For the reader who appreciates history as a discipline rather than a narrative playground, El Cid is a worthy addition to the bookshelf. While it may lack the sweeping grandeur that makes for bestsellers, it offers something rarer: clarity amid the fog of legend. In an age where historical figures are too often flattened into caricatures for modern consumption, Berend’s rigorous, unsentimental approach is a reminder that the past, much like the present, is rarely so simple.
Verdict: A solid, well-researched work that rewards the historically inclined reader with a nuanced and intellectually satisfying account of one of Spain’s most enduring legends.
The book is full of interesting insights. The main theme is that most of what we think know about El Cid was invented throughout the subsequent centuries by various writers who had personal or community interests, and so the way they shaped El Cid's story and the details they invented were fitted to their ulterior motives. This is true about most legends, one way or another, especially those where the recorded evidence is scant, and so the book carries lessons of historiography with it and this is the primary bend of the narrative.
The chapter on the Spanish Civil War detracts. Large parts of it are superfluous. They go into the nature of the Franco regime, which is a one-sided narrative. It's a one-sided narrative not just because the author doesn't care to go into atrocities committed by the other side, but because she explicitly states these are largely fictional and the product of fascist propaganda. While it's true that the historiography of the Spanish Civil War is full of right-wing revisionism, and Franco was a mass-murderer who did not shy away from falsehoods for the purpose of political messaging, the same is true on the other side, and a good history of the Spanish Civil war needs to be more careful about both edges of the propagandistic sword. Berend's history reminds me of something written by Pío Moa or Raúl Arias Ramos, just from the other side.