At what point does fortitude become folly? When does confidence become mere pride? What does it mean to be loyal? What price should be paid for treason? These are just some of the important questions which the poet of The Song of Roland places before his audience. This story is first and foremost a tragedy, and that tragedy is enhanced by the fact that it could have been prevented had a little more prudence been employed.1
The Song of Roland, which was composed c. 1300-136A.D. and written in a form of French, is a fanciful story based upon a historical battle. There was a great battle that took place at Roncevaux Pass in the year of our Lord 778. In the year leading up to this battle French forces, led by king Charles (a.k.a. Charlemayn), invaded Spain and made war upon some of the Muslim forces who were occupying the territory. This action came as a response to a call for aid from other Muslim princes who had come to Charlemayn asking for help. Though Charles experienced some real success against the Saracens during his campaign he had to cut his efforts short when the Saxons began to harry his kingdom on other fronts. As he returned north to France (making use of the Roncevaux Pass which serves as the gateway between Spain and France) his rearguard was attacked and slaughtered. Some of the names found in this poem are indeed historical, recorded by the French historian Eginhardt, including the name of one Roland who was among the many French soldiers slain in the battle.
So much for the historical part of the tale, beyond that everything is a product of the distinctively Christian imagination of the anonymous and unknown poet. Launching from a scrap of historical information the poet wrote an exciting tale of treachery and tragedy. One of the great strengths of the poem is its moral clarity. No reader of this tale will be left wondering who the true villains and heroes were. The paynims (a word etymologically related to the word “pagan”) are liars, cowards, and truce breakers. Their Islamic faith is an abomination to the true God, the God of the Bible. They are unprincipled men who are willing to sacrifice even their own children to keep their power and pleasures.
But it is not only the Paynims who deserve the reader’s ire. From the moment we meet the Frenchman Ganelon (a.k.a. Guenes) we are introduced to him as the one who “wrought the treachery.” The poet takes pains to make sure there is no chance of mistaking him for a good man or even a misunderstood bad guy. He is the Judas of the story. His intemperate hatred for his own stepson Roland, largely fueled by jealousy of his successes and favor before the king, make him willing to do virtually anything to kill Roland. In his arrogance Ganelon believes he can cunningly bring about the death of Roland and get away scot-free (and maybe make some money on the deal).
The good guys are equally clear in their presentation. Charlemayn in particular is presented as the virtuous and God-fearing king and emperor.2 He is quick to make war on wickedness, but he is also quick to seek peace where it may be found. He is pictured as a man who desires the salvation of even his most bitter enemies. Also, in Charles, we see something of a literary type of Christ. This is made clear by the fact that we see him operating in the three offices held by Christ himself; prophet, priest, and king.
Charlemayn fulfills the role of Prophet as he receives dreams and visions of what is about to come to pass. “He dreamed he stood in Sizer’s lofty gate, / Holding in hand his ashen lance full great. / Count Ganelon takes hold of it, and shakes, / And with such fury he wrenches it and breaks / That high as heaven the flinders fly away”. (Laisse 56) Unlike Nebuchadnezzar, though, Charles has no need for an interpretation of this prophetic dream. He pronounces the truth of the dream stating, “Through Ganelon fair France is ruined quite. / An angel showed me a vision in the night.” (Laisse 67)
Charlemayn is seen earlier in the story acting as Priest when he sends Ganelon off to deliver his message to the Paynim king, Marsilion, and he crosses and absolves him before he goes. “‘Go’, said the King, ‘by Jesu’s leave and mine.’ / With his right hand he’s absolved him and signed”. (Laisse 26)
As for the role of King, this is clearly seen all throughout the story.
Add to all of this the seeming everlasting vitality of Charlemayn, who is said to be more than 200 years old and still going strong, and we see a man who appears to be setting up a kingdom without end whose borders may just increase until it covers the whole globe. Though Charlemayn is not Christ himself, he is meant to be seen as one who typifies Christ. The kingdom of Charlemayn, and the justice of his rule, foreshadows the everlasting kingdom and rule that the Lord Jesus is in the process of establishing through the spread of the gospel.
But Charlemayn is only one hero of the story. There is, of course, Roland as well. The one after whom the story is named, Roland is also a good man but he also suffers from a serious case of pride and a reckless temperament. His friend, Oliver, does his best to reign in his friend where he may but often with only moderate success. Despite his failures, however, Roland is fiercely loyal to his King, to his friends, to fellow soldiers, and to his country. He is also pictured as a Christ figure in the story (they abound everywhere in this poem!). Roland is betrayed by someone very close to him and, as a result of this betrayal, he ends up laying down his life for his people. Should anyone doubt that it was the poet’s intent to make Roland a Christ figure (as well as Charlemayn) they need simply consider Laisse 110 of the poem in conjunction with Matthew 27:45-54.
Laisse 110:
Throughout all France terrific tempests rise,
Thunder is heard, the stormy winds blow high,
Unmeasured rain and hail fall from the sky,
While thick and fast flashes the levin bright,
And true it is the earth quakes far and wide.
Far as from Saintes to Michael-of-the-Tide,
From Besançon to Wissant Port, you’d find
There’s not a house but the walls crack and rive.
Right at high noon a darkness falls like night,
Save for the lightning there’s not a gleam of light;
None that beholds it but is dismayed for fright,
And many say: “This is the latter time,
The world is ending, and the Great Doom is nigh.”
They speak not true, they cannot read the signs:
’Tis Roland’s death calls forth this mighty cry.
Matthew 27:45-54
45 Now from the sixth hour there was darkness over all the land until the ninth hour. 46 And about the ninth hour Jesus cried out with a loud voice, saying, “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” that is, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” 47 And some of the bystanders, hearing it, said, “This man is calling Elijah.” 48 And one of them at once ran and took a sponge, filled it with sour wine, and put it on a reed and gave it to him to drink.49 But the others said, “Wait, let us see whether Elijah will come to save him.” 50 And Jesus cried out again with a loud voice and yielded up his spirit.
51 And behold, the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom. And the earth shook, and the rocks were split. 52 The tombs also were opened. And many bodies of the saints who had fallen asleep were raised,53 and coming out of the tombs after his resurrection they went into the holy city and appeared to many.54 When the centurion and those who were with him, keeping watch over Jesus, saw the earthquake and what took place, they were filled with awe and said, “Truly this was the Son of God!”
“The sixth hour” in Jewish reckoning was what we (and the French poet) would call “noon.” Darkness fell upon Israel as Christ’s death drew near and the same happened in France as Roland’s death approached. Both Israel and France experienced earth shaking events in connection with the death of these men. Both Roland and Jesus gave up their lives in order to save their people. Obviously the extent of the salvation offered through the latter is far greater, but the literary connection is not to be missed all the same.
I do not wish to give away much more of the story. That I have told you this is a tale of treachery and tragedy is a secret given away very early in the story. How it all unfolds, however, is yours to find out.
This poem, originally penned in French, was translated by Dorothy Sayers. Sayers was a friend of C. S. Lewis and some of the other “Inklings”. She authored a fantastic series of mystery novels with the aristocratic sleuth “Lord Peter Wimsey” as her main character. Sayers also wrote various works on education, theology, and philosophy. Her translation and preface to The Song of Roland is a stellar example of her prowess as a scholar. The book was first published in 1957, the same year of her death. You can pick up a copy of her translation HERE. As each section of this study guide is completed it will be posted below for your use.
I didn’t even mean to be alliterative here!
Technically at the time of this battle Charlemagne had not yet been crowned the first emperor of the Holy Roman Empire, so this is a bit anachronistic.
I have the Bacon translation from 1914 Yale university press. It will do. The language is excellent and I’m an old geezer so it should be ok. Really looking forward to reading it!