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The
Song of Roland
Translation into blank verse, introduction and notes by Janet Shirley.
Highly commended and first runner-up for the 1998 European Poetry
in Translation prize. Accessible and accurate. Typeset by the Book
House, Ravenstonedale. Map by Vivien McKay.
Paperback available from bookshops and from Llanerch Enterprises Tel
01570 470567.
The Old French original
A famous poem, which everybody 'knows' but hasn't read. Incidentally
no one in the Middle Ages would have read it either. They would have
watched and listened to it, it is a performance text - you have to
imagine it put across by a performer who knew how to enact the different
roles, who could at one moment be the stately emperor, next the furious
young knight or the devious villain. At present the conversational
exchanges, often very rapid, all lie flat on the page, but they are
there for an actor to bring to life.
This, the oldest surviving version of the Roland story, was only rediscovered
in 1837 in manuscript Digby 23 in the Bodleian Library.
It was probably written by a man called Turoldus or Thorold at the
turn of the 11th/12th centuries, and links up powerfully with the
crusading ethos of that time: go and slaughter non-Christians for
the love of God. Incidentally, it's not really the story of Roland
at all, but of Holy Church - Roland dies before the poem is half done
and the rest is the triumph of Charlemagne
and God. The human thread running through all this is brilliantly
shown with the minimum of words. Roland and Ganelon,
two of Charlemagne's most valued knights, hate each other. Why? No
one tells us, people in those days knew the story, but we can guess
- heroic Ganelon is the man who has married Roland's widowed mother,
a lady the poet never even names, but we know she is Charlemagne's
sister. We're among top people here. Heroic sneaky brilliant Ganelon,
what lies he tells! Roland has contrived to get him sent on an embassy
to the Muslim king, i.e. to almost certain death. Ganelon creates
such a firework display of untruths that the Muslims swallow his bait
hook line and sinker, and are all set to make a sham peace with Charlemagne
and then move in on Roland and his company and massacre them all.
And so they do, but you can read the poem itself. Look out for Oliver,
a man with good sense, whereas Roland his sworn comrade is only rich
in courage and his arrogance is fatal. To see some of the original
text, click on Old French for the scene where
the two heroes know they are dying and bid each other farewell.
Old French
La Chanson de Roland ed. Whitehead page 59:
Laisse 149
| As
vus Rollant sur sun cheval pasmet |
| E
Oliver ki est a mort naffret. |
| Tant
ad seinet, li oil li sunt trublet; |
| Ne
loinz ne pres ne poet vedeir si cler |
| Que
reconoistre poisset nuls hom mortel. |
| Sun
cumpaignun, cum il l'at encuntret, |
| Sil
fiert amunt sur l'elme a or gemet, |
| Tut
li detrenchet d'ici qu'al nasel, |
| Mais
en la teste ne l'ad mie adeset. |
| A
icel colp l'ad Rollant reguardet, |
| Si
li demandet dulcement e suef: |
| 'Sire
cumpain, faites le vos de gred? |
| Ja
est co Rollant ki tant vos soelt amer, |
| Par
nule guise ne m'aviez desfiet.' |
| Dist
Oliver: 'Or vos oi jo parler, |
| Jo
ne vos vei; veied vus Damnedeu! |
| Ferut
vos ai? car le me pardunez!' |
| Rollant
respunt: 'Jo n'ai nient de mel. |
| Jol
vos parduins ici e devant Deu.' |
| A
icel mot l'un a l'altre ad clinet. |
| Par
tel amur as les vos desevred. |
In my version:
| Roland
sits senseless on his horse. Nearby |
| Count
Oliver is dying. He has bled |
| so
freely that his eyes are troubled; now |
| he
cannot see to tell two men apart. |
| Roland
came near; Oliver struck at him, |
| struck
on the helmet rich with gems and gold, |
| from
top to nosepiece cracked the helm in two, |
| but
did not touch his head. Roland looked up, |
| kindly
and gently asked him, |
| |
'Comrade,
friend, |
| did
you intend that blow? It's Roland here, |
| Roland
who's always loved you. I don't think |
| you
gave me any challenge.' |
| |
'That's
your voice. |
|
But I can't see you,' Oliver replied. |
| 'The
Lord God see you! Was it you I hit? |
| Brother,
forgive the blow!' |
| |
'You
did no harm, |
| none,'
said his comrade. 'I forgive it you |
| here
and before the face of God.' At this |
| the
two men bowed. In such dear love they part. |
Ganelon
The archetypal traitor, whom Dante puts in the lowest pit of hell.
Yet he is wonderfully handsome, his own knights are devoted to him,
and so clever a liar that no one dreams of disbelieving a word he
says. Even editors of the text sometimes discuss his lies quite seriously
as if they were gospel truth. His good looks are repeatedly emphasised,
and he often arrives on the scene in the very early morning just before
dawn when, as medieval listeners would have known, you would expect
to see the morning star, Lucifer, light-bringer, the angel who fell
from heaven and became a prince among the devils in hell.
Charlemagne
If you look for an accurate historical record in this poem, you will
be disappointed. It shows the emperor conquering the whole of Spain
for God; in fact he did mount a campaign or two in northern Spain,
but in alliance with a local emir. It shows Roland and his rearguard
massacred by Muslim forces as they withdrew over the Pyrenees; in
fact an imperial baggage train was attacked and looted in 778, but
by mountain-dwelling Basques, as Christian as anybody else. The dead
did include the emperor's commander of the French-Breton borders,
whose name was Roland. (See Einhard's Life of Charlemagne,
tr. Thorpe, Penguin.) But if you want to know how people thought and
felt about themselves and their world at the turn of the 11th and
12th centuries, this is the story to go for.
Charlemagne's Enemies
There is one thing missing from the Roland poem that seems common
nowadays the Roland does not demonise the enemy. There is a
glorious series of character sketches of Moslem commanders and every
single one of them is brave, intelligent, heroic. Some of them are
wonderfully handsome, one is so attractive that no woman can help
smiling at him, all are individual and distinct from each other, all
are dangerous but not one of them mean. As for Baligant himself, the
Emir of Babylon in Egypt, with his thatch of white curly hair and
his princely bearing, the only thing wrong with him is that he is
not a Christian. He is a fit opponent for the great Charlemagne, who
does in the end defeat him, but only with what I cannot help feeling
is the unfair help of the Angel Gabriel.
But
why the poem shows Moslems as worshipping three gods and bowing
down to images, I do not know and would dearly love to find out.
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