Wednesday, January 27, 2016

The Song of Roland, trans. Dorothy Sayers




The Plot




(Spoilers follow).

Chanson de Geste





Roland Makes a Call




And yet...







War for Christ's Sake








The Fighting Archbishop

We must be ready to die in our King's service.
Christendom needs you, so help us to preserve it.
Battle you'll have, of that you may be certain,
Now beat your breasts and ask God for His mercy:
I will absolve you and set your souls in surety.
If you should die, blest martyrdom's your guerdon;
You'll sit on high in Paradise eternal."
The French alight and all kneel down in worship;
God's shrift and blessing the Archbishop conferreth,
And for their penance he bids them all strike firmly.


Well, not so fast.






Living with Violence


They search the field for their maimed and their dead,
With grief and sorrow the eyes of them are wet,
With love and pity for their kindred and their friends.

Blubbering Like Schoolgirls








Elisabeth Grace Foley said...

For comparison purposes, here's the passage you quoted in the Moncrieff translation:

"My lords barons, Charles left us here for this;
He is our King, well may we die for him:
To Christendom good service offering.
Battle you'll have, you all are bound to it,
For with your eyes you see the Sarrazins.
Pray for God's grace, confessing Him your sins!
For your souls' health, I'll absolution give
So, though you die, blest martyrs shall you live,
Thrones you shall win in the great Paradis."
The Franks dismount, upon the ground are lit.
That Archbishop God's Benediction gives,
For their penance, good blows to strike he bids.

From the bits you've quoted along the way, the Sayers translation seems to flow much more smoothly; I don't doubt I would have enjoyed the entire poem more for that reason. Because, for instance, while I thought the description of Lancelot's arms and armor in "The Lady of Shalott" was beautiful, the enumeration of everything everyone in Roland was wearing and carrying left me cold. My eyes started to glaze a bit at the repetitiveness, too—it's not so much that I mind knowing how they were armed, but that a dozen troops seemed to have been armed the same way...not so much that I mind a duel enumerated in bloody detail, but a dozen duels described almost exactly the same way?

The part about the rearguard action made sense to me because as I was reading, associations with other famous last stands/buying-time situations in history were chiming in my head—Thermopylae, the Alamo, Bataan. Yet there is a difference, because unlike Roland, the defenders of the Alamo and Bataan knew there was no help coming even if they could call for it.

That's fascinating, the suggestion you make about combat fatigue and the displaying of emotion. Isn't it a common factor when you read about veterans of the World Wars that most of them "never talked about" anything they experienced, and kept emotions related to the trauma they experienced locked inside? Very interesting.

(Although, I must admit to unholy giggles when the five score thousand Franks swooned simultaneously. Lucky the Sarrazins didn't come up just then...or, this being a study in chivalry, would they have waited for the Franks to revive before they attacked?)

The theological elements are a knottier aspect. I am admittedly no expert on the Crusades, but I have a hard time reconciling the general principle of them with "My kingdom is not of this world; if it were My servants would fight." I agree with the concept of a just war on the national level, absolutely: defend France from invasion by the Sarrazins, by all means; but to head out and invade another nation for religious reasons? To me, that sounds like the mixing of religion with national politics that's proved so disastrous all throughout history. But of course that's all a much broader issue than what's dealt with in Roland itself.

Suzannah said...

Yes. Ouch. From what I've seen so far Sayers is much more readable. There is of course a certain repetitiveness in the poem, but I guess I found it more congenial, partly because of the better translation :D.

The group swooning made me giggle too! It ties in interestingly with something I began to think about after reading Owen Barfield's HISTORY IN ENGLISH WORDS, actually--the way that the concept of individuality has come more and more to the forefront over the last few centuries; apparently, back in the ancient and medieval world, you simply didn't think of yourself as an autonomous unit in the way that you do now. So the Franks in the poem tend to behave and react like a Greek chorus: as one.

Which is a whole nother fascinating aspect to the combat fatigue. I should try to read up on it more.

I think you raise a good point with the Bible passage you've quoted; it doesn't, at first glance, seem to fit in with the Crusades, and I too have a great antipathy to the idea of sailing into other people's countries to sort them out (as a good not-American should). However the situation at the time of the Crusades was not so clear-cut. The difference between modern times and medieval times is a huge part of why it's so difficult to understand the Crusades. To the Crusaders, of course, they saw themselves less as people of one nation crossing the known world to invade another nation...but more like the Allies landing in Normandy at D-Day. The majority population of the Levant at the time was actually Christian. Since the 600s, the Christian lands had been locked in a struggle with Islam, and a huge proportion of Christendom, including Spain, North Africa (once the homeland of Sts Augustine, Athanasius, and Anthony), Palestine, Syria, and Asia Minor had been swallowed up. Urban II called for the Crusade only after being begged to send help either by the Patriarch of Jerusalem, or (more likely) by the Emperor of Constantinople (ruler of the Eastern Roman Empire; as Charlemagne and his successors were seen as ruler of the Western half of the same Roman Empire). So the Crusaders saw themselves (in the best possible interpretation, which was certainly true for many of them!) as a) responding to the pleas of the Eastern Church; b) liberators of the still majority-Christian heartlands; c) members not of France, Germany, or England, but of Christendom/the Empire as a global whole; d) who were thus morally obligated to do all they could to strengthen Christendom's last defences against a clearly aggressive and implacable foe. Finally, in a very real way, they believed Palestine was Christ's realm in a way that no other place on earth was, and that as good liege-men of Christ, it was their duty to defend his patrimony.

In other words, on a scale between "The Allies landing in Normandy to liberate the oppressed French people from their hated Gestapo overlords" and "The Americans sailing into Iraq to impose western democracy on a stroppy Middle-Eastern nation", the Crusaders fell on the D-Day side of the scale, if you asked them.

Suzannah said...

P.S. I apologise if my views on Iraq seem desperately uninformed. I don't know enough to argue about it, but the point I was trying to make was that to the Eastern Christians (again, the majority population of the Levant) the Crusades would have come like an answer to centuries of prayer for help. I don't believe Christ meant his words to say that his servants should never fight a war for religious reasons. In context (John 18), those words were him explaining to Pilate why his followers had been forbidden to use the swords Christ himself told them to buy to establish his kingship on earth: "My kingdom is not from hence," he clarifies. In other words, Christ's kingdom would be given from heaven after his death on the cross, not inaugurated by his followers at the point of a sword.

Which is not to say that Christ's kingdom is not a very real kingdom on earth, worthy of being defended (but not extended) by the sword once established.

Elisabeth Grace Foley said...

Oh, no—your views are much more in line with my own than the typical American majority view. :)

Thanks for all the historical context—viewed in that light it does make more sense. It sounds to me like whatever words one could use to describe the Crusades, "clear-cut" would not be one of them!

Hannah A. Krynicki said...

This is a great post- I regret that I didn't start the readalong with y'all at the beginning of the year. :) The bit about the Crusades as defense of the innocent was particularly interesting, since most modern historians focus on the savagery of the Christian fighters- true though it may be in some cases- and leave out any good intentions they may have had. Thank you for sharing!

Joseph J said...

The Hercule Poirot actor David Suchet recently converted to Christianity, and along with doing an audio recording of THE ENTIRE BIBLE (which I really should buy, he has an fantastic voice and accent and is a sweet and charming man) he also made two travel documentaries about the lives of Sts. Peter and Paul. In the one on Peter he interviewed a historical weapons specialist who explained that it was very common during the time of Christ's life for people in Israel (outside of the safety of the city) to carry around small swords for protection. So it is not surprising that Peter would have easy access to a sword, and in fact he probably owned one or more himself (as well as Jesus? I doubt it). I imagine people at the time of Christ would not have even understood the debate about pacifism. Practical reality necessitated a certain acceptance of violence, as it has in almost all times and places throughout history. Its rather a mental twist to realize that Israel 30 A.D. was rather like the gun-slinging Wild West in the sense of the ubiquity of weapons.

With regard to the Crusades, I think that the modern controversies about them will pretty much die away once the West is finally forced to acknowledge and properly confront the danger of militant Islam, and get over the liberal fantasy of unidentified 'terrorists' and 'insurgents'. Islam is not a religion of peace, quite obviously actually, and the ostrich can only keep his head in the sand for so long. When that happens, we will have much greater empathy for the Crusaders of long ago. Militant muslims already call us 'crusaders', and the sooner we accept the identity the better (with certain reservations of course).

But I haven't read the Song of Roland so I have no right to be commenting. I blame Suzannah for starting the tangent.

Joseph J said...

Also, the weapons expert explained that it was common at the time to cut off or mutilate a person's ear if you only wanted to injure or warn them, and not kill them, which explained something that always puzzled me (did St. Peter have bad aim?)

Suzannah said...

Hannah--I'm so glad you enjoyed the review, and I really hope you'll read THE SONG OF ROLAND sometime!

With regards to modern historians focusing on the savagery of the Christian fighters, actually, to my surprise, they don't! The people who beat the drum about how awful the Crusades were are mostly filmmakers, novelists, politicians, and pop commentators of every stripe. Real historians like Bernard Hamilton, Malcolm Barber, Peter Edbury, Jonathan Riley-Smith, Thomas Madden, and even the somewhat sensationalist Thomas Asbridge--the people who are doing the most exciting and interesting work on the Crusades today--have a much better grip of the broader historical context. Sadly, their research and commentary is virtually ignored by the popular media.

Joseph--interesting points. I also hope that the dangers of militant Islam will eventually become clear to the ostrich population of the West, but I also can't stress enough that Christians need to see Islam as fields "white for harvest", and need to be willing to go and lay down their lives on the mission field. I firmly believe God has many beloved people among the nations of Islam, and that the good news of the Prince of Peace is the only viable longterm answer to the problem of militant Islam.

D. Loon said...

I started to read Huizinga's _Waning of the Middle Ages_ a few years ago, and I remember him writing about how an expectation of frequent weeping and tears from men was part of the culture.

Thanks for hosting this. I'm writing up my own reflections, which are shorter and, I feel, more fragmented, but I'll add my post to the linkup anyway. This was fun!

Joseph J said...

Suzannah I perfectly agree. War is only a temporary, but sadly often necessary solution. Islam is a fractured and divided house. Muslims are as much victims of each other as anyone else. I am sure that there are many Muslims who are sick to death of the endless horror that their religion fosters. If we have to engage in a major war against one or more groups of Muslims, I'm sure there will be many Muslims who are either very ambivalent or will actually cheer us on and help us. The epic French version of the Canadian national anthem reads,

"O Canada!
Land of our forefathers,
Thy brow is wreathed with a glorious garland of flowers.
As is thy arm ready to wield the sword,
So also is it ready to carry the cross.
Thy history is an epic
Of the most brilliant exploits.
Thy valour steeped in faith
Will protect our homes and our rights.
Will protect our homes and our rights."

The sword and the cross. If we don't have the moral strength to protect our homes and rights, we certainly won't have the moral strength to convert anyone. Like you said - defended but not extended.

Also, I am definitely in favour of more weeping in the armed forces. But there is probably a happy middle ground between Hollywood steroid-machismo and medieval fainting parties.

Hannah A. Krynicki said...

Interesting, Suzannah. I haven't read much about the Crusades, but the books I've read ignored the details you explained, about the knights who truly believed they were doing the right thing (not to mention the story of Balian de Ibelin). I'll have to revisit that period of history and find some of those authors' books.

Suzannah said...

Loon, no problem with the shorter/more fragmented thoughts--I'm glad to have started you reading this!

Hannah, a lot of the scholars I mentioned tend to write fairly scholarly and inaccessible works. If you've never studied the Crusades in this much depth before, may I suggest starting with either Rodney Stark's GOD'S BATTALIONS or Thomas Madden's NEW CONCISE HISTORY OF THE CRUSADES? Both excellent books. Michael Haag's TRAGEDY OF THE TEMPLARS has some very interesting details, though I'd recommend reading my review to counteract some of his outrageous pro-Templar anti-pullani bias.

Anonymous said...

I didn't get organized to join in, and my copy of the Sayers is in storage - though not so long ago, in the context of studying the 'Sibilla' romance versions, I was reading around in, and comparing, some details in Roland translations available in the Internet Archive.

Reading "And for their penance he bids them all strike firmly" and/or "For their penance, good blows to strike he bids" in the context of your noting "Marsilion has sworn to take no prisoners", I realized how limited my knowledge of the mediaeval 'business' of hostage taking is. It certainly got to be 'big business', if one thinks, for example, of the life of Richard Lionheart, but also of Bohemund I of Antioch.

In the context, is Turpin necessarily speaking of striking mortal blows, or also (or, even, primarily) defeating blows? Would (and in the story, did) Marsilion's decision also mean 'no surrender' on the part of his troops (of all ranks)? Or might they have been (individually) beaten, thereupon surrendering, and giving their word to behave themselves as prisoners? (Tangentially, I've just read with great pleasure both Moss's and Fermor's accounts of their successful abduction of the German General Kreipe during WW II in Crete. They asked, and he cheerfully gave - and kept - his word that he would not try to escape.)

David Llewellyn Dodds

Suzannah said...

Hello, David! It's always such a pleasure to hear from you. Thanks for drawing my attention to the hostage-taking side of things. Those are all good questions! It might be interesting to look at some of the historical evidence--for example, are there examples of prisoners being taken in an unexpected victory by a side that was told "no prisoners"? Actually, my gut reaction would be to say that there would be, given the extreme benefits to each side: the unexpectedly defeated side would have the option of ransoming their men back, and the victorious side would benefit from the ransom money. "No prisoners" seems to have been such a bad deal for both sides that it was rarely resorted to; often (by Christians) as an incentive to get their enemies to surrender peacefully.

"Ill-Met by Moonlight", I believe? It's on my to-read list :). Interestingly, I was reading Russell Braddon's biography of Nancy Wake to my sisters recently and noticed that she met interned Allied airmen in Vichy-administered Marseilles while they were out of prison on parole. Tacitly, it was assumed that they must not break parole even though Nancy was prepared to help them. I stopped to tell my sisters that I very much doubted such a situation would occur nowadays, even though only eighty years or so have passed. One's word means less, it seems.

Anonymous said...

Yes, that's the first and famous Moss one. Patrick Leigh Fermor's version was published posthumously, together with excerpts from his reports and a sort of guide book to their route through Crete, in Abducting A General (2014): in various ways less vivid, but complementing nicely - I'm very glad I read both! (I liked the Ill Met by Moonlight film, too: I'm not sure if it 'takes liberties' or not, but my memory is that it differs in details). Fermor notes how in the course of a couple decades their action had become the matter of an oral-formulaic poem performed in Crete, combining historical details with more romantic and fantastical elements!

I suspect you are right in general about such parole, now, though there might be exceptions. (I can't think of contemporary examples either way.)

David Llewellyn Dodds


Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...