English Literature Research Paper - 1200 words
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CharacterPortrayal.html[Brault is an American educator and author of Early Blazon: Heraldic Terminology in the Twelfth and Thirteenth Centuries with Special Reference to Arthurian Literature (1972). A translator of The Song, he has written an extensive laisse-by-laisse commentary on the poem. In the following excerpt from his introduction to that work, Brault examines the depiction of several key characters and groups in The Song, nothing that Charlemagne "is the most complex figure" and Oliver "without a doubt the most difficult character to interpret."]
Nowhere is the distance between modern practice and the art of the Song of Roland greater than in the depiction of characters....
Distinct characterization such as we find in modern literature--often aided by details concerning physical appearance, clothing, gestures, speech mannerisms, and quirks of various sorts--is absent, for the most part, in the Song of Roland, just as it was in the art of the period. A few scattered indications, notably concerning Charlemagne (deliberateness, fierceness, regal bearing, sensitivity), Ganelon (arrogance, deceitfulness), and the Saracens (diabolism), provide revealing glimpses of personality, but Turoldus does not always rely on such particulars to convey character traits. In fact, individuals tend to look and think a good deal alike and to use the same kind of language. Indeed, personal information rarely imparts meaning in absolute fashion, identical attitudes or features often being subject to widely divergent interpretations.
Characters each have a nature, good or bad, identified from the outset of the poem by an epithet or a phrase ..., by being Christian or Saracen, or simply by being one of us.... (p.89)
The more important the character, the more his goodness shines forth or his villainy looms large.... The character traits one can read in another's face, combined with the advice evildoers receive from Satan, explain how the Saracen messengers are able immediately to identify Charlemagne even though they have never seen him before, and they suggest the reason why Blancandrin, on the road to Saragossa, seems to know that Ganelon will prove to be treacherous.
This categorization ... governs behavior and outlook to a remarkable degree, for, as a rule, individuals do not change their essences. Good characters learn, acquiring knowledge or experience that edifies or scandalizes them in the etymological sense, that is, builds up or acts as a stumbling block to their faith. Evil characters become more villainous as their despair grows darker. The only exception is the convert, epitomized by Bramimonde, whose complete transformation from evil to good is wrought through the miracle of grace. Other personages simply do not change or develop in the modern acceptation of these terms.
Characterization in the Song of Roland is often strongly affected by role-playing. Thus while relatively few exterior traits distinguish Charlemagne, Roland, or Ganelon, the modeling of a character after a well-known archetype (e.g., Abraham, Christ, Judas) tends to add the prefiguration's virtues or vices to the individual's portrait. This rubbing-off of pesonality is an important part of the poetic process. Scenic formulas and transpositions produce the same sort of effect upon the protagonists as does role-playing in these figural representations.
A distinction needs to be drawn between conscious and unconscious role-playing. Evil characters, notably when aping, are totally unaware of the image on which they are patterning themselves, and with such derogatory effect upon the audience. On the other hand, as Charles and Roland probe ever deeper into the mysteries of faith and martyrdom, they grow increasingly aware of the archetypal figures whose sublime deeds they reenact.
Turoldus conceived of his characters in medieval fashion, that is, as being motivated by a central virtue or vice, each of these traits being associated or in conflict with corresponding qualities or faults. Although this system of virtues and vices is firmly rooted in biblical and patristic sources, the mundane aspect of moral strengths and weaknesses is also depicted. Thus while Largesse, the chief virtue of the king, is at times viewed as a reflection of divine Largitas, it can also refer to more familiar forms of liberality.
Chivalric virtues, which figure prominently in the Song of Roland, had not yet been reduced to the rigid code one begins to notice increasingly in the second half of the twelfth century, when the Church's influence also becomes apparent. However, it is a mistake to assume that the only virtue expected of a knight in Turoldus's day was manly courage and that loyalty was merely a contractual obligation between lord and vassal. There can be no denying the fact that the twelfth century witnessed important cultural changes, but the evolution in institutions and in manners and mores was gradual, and sporadic early manifestations of what were later to become highly developed traditions are sometimes noticed. When, in the Pèlerinage de Charlemagne, Oliver courts King Hugo's daughter, and when, in the Pseudo-Turpin Chronicle, Roland places a pillow under the head of his resting adversary during a truce, these gestures foreshadow the courtesy epitomized by Chrétien de Troyes's knights. One must be careful to distinguish between idealized views and reality, for literature is the province of enhanced images. The fact that the eleventh century may actually have seen little of the heroic stances or of the magnanimity found in the Song of Roland did not prevent Turoldus from visualizing such behavior. Moreover, in all likelihood, the poet's portrayals helped shape later conceptualizations of ideal conduct.
A character's virtues or vices are chiefly manifested through his actions and words. Physical appearance provides important clues to an individual's nature, but looks can also be deceiving. Impressions of a different sort are gained when the poet himself intervenes, praising or condemning deeds as they occur, or in retrospect. An individual's observations about another--whether in the form of an assertion, an anecdote, or an insult--furnish us with information of yet another kind, for they must always be carefully weighed in light of the fact that the speaker represents a point of view that is not necessarily shared by the author. The stories Ganelon tells about Roland to Blancandrin and later to Charlemagne are intended to vilify his stepson. Oliver's description of his companion's anticipated behavior, when the hero volunteers to go to Saragossa, is self-serving--he himself wishes to go on this mission--and therefore suspect. His characterization of Roland's decisions in the oliphant debate represents a very understandable reaction, but it also constitutes a refusal to come to terms with the deeper meaning of his friend's stand.
Finally, an individual may provide important insights into his own psychological make-up while boasting or talking about others, especially in tense moments.
Self-praise strikes the modern reader as being unseemly in the hero. However, the medieval audience drew a distinction between truthful claims and hollow assertions. Thus Roland's detailing of his past and future accomplishments not only constitutes behavior that is quite acceptable but also provides information which is essential to the narrative. However, the Saracens' gabs are repeatedly shown to be vain. Formal laments, which laud a fallen companion's qualities, and insults, which bring out an adversary's villainy, are similarly viewed with suspicion today because each occurs under circumstances notorious for fostering extravagant speech. When reading the Song of Roland, it must always be assumed that praise for a Christian and scorn for a pagan are well merited, and never the reverse. On the other hand, Ganelon's attempts, in the apple anecdote, to portray Roland as a diabolic seducer and, during the trial, as a felon motivated by greed, unwittingly show his own true colors.
If the battlefield discussion concerning the sounding of the oliphant is viewed as an externalization of an internal debate--the form is identical in each case--Oliver's words can be interpreted as an effort to convince himself that he should assume Roland's stance, or as a reflection of Roland's agony of decision. This explains in part Turoldus's emphasis, in the lines following v. 1093 (Rollant est proz e Oliver est sage ["Roland is valiant and Oliver is wise"]), on the equality of worthiness found in the two companions-in-arms.
One aspect of character depiction, indirect delineation of personality traits, is worthy of special note: Turoldus projects facets of an individual's psychology and spirit on certain objects in his possession.
The praise that Roland lavishes upon Durendal represents a detailing of the hero's own valor and stunning achievements. The sword's brilliance is literally a reflection of the hero's virtues. This radiance corresponds exactly to the shining quality of the gold ground in Emperor portraits of the day. The jewelencrusted ivory oliphant, like Durendal's priceless ornamentation, symbolizes its owner's matchless qualities, and the horn's ascending voice evokes Roland's undying spirit. Joyeuse plays a similar role in portraying aspects of Charlemagne's character. These emanations link Emperor and nephew in mystical fashion. Conversely, the very name Precieuse is a mocking reflection of Baligant's hollowness, and Murgleis and other sinister names cast an evil glow--like that of the lantern-lit Saracen ships--on the persons with whom they are associated.
Roland and Oliver are brothers-in-arms, but the resemblance between Charlemagne and his nephew goes far beyond community of interest and solidarity of purpose. The hero is the Emperor's right arm, a physical union symbolizing moral and spiritual oneness as well. The lance is an apt symbol for Roland and it is specifically identified with the hero in the first of Charlemagne's dreams. The poet doubtless wishes to suggest that Roland, like his weapon, is straight and strong. But Roland's lance is also an extension of his arm and is thus associated with the right-arm image. Uncle and nephew maintain their separate individualities, but such integration implies remarkable psychological compatibility. Each character's personality reflects various facets of his counterpart's being. Nowhere in the Song of Roland is the fact that weapons often mirror their owner's moral excellence or depravity more in evidence than in the case of Durendal and Joyeuse, whose brilliance, holiness, and invincibility are virtually indistinguishable, pointing to the poet's similar concept of Charles and Roland. Thus the debate over whether Charles or Roland is the chief hero of Turoldus's poem is pointless: One character is the extension of the other, and the author clearly had no intention of according one precedence over the other. Roland and Alda are also closely linked and reflect each other by virtue of their betrothal, their shared death--including a similarity of phrasing in this respect--and their virginity. (pp. 89-93)
The Emperor is the most complex figure in the Song of Roland, for aspects of his personality enjoyed an independent existence exceeding by far the limits of the poem. Other personages in Turoldus's epic are historical figures, and legends about a number of these individuals, notably Roland, had doubtless been elaborated before the present work was composed. However, these stories pale beside the Charlemagne myth, which experienced an extraordinary growth throughout Europe, particularly in France and Germany in the centuries following the Emperor's reign. (pp. 93-4)
Biblical associations abound in Turoldus's depiction of the protean figure of Charlemagne, for he is successively--at times simultaneously--Abraham, Christ the Judge, Joshua, the Ancient of Days, Christ the Reaper, Constantine, and Job. First and foremost, however, Charles is a Messianic figure who incarnates Sapientia and plays the role of Abraham. (p. 95)
The narrative of the Sacrifice of Isaac in Genesis mentions no emotion on Abraham's part. Charles evinces the same blind and spontaneous obedience to the strange promptings of the Almighty. However, Turoldus portrays him in a more human light, repeatedly stressing the Emperor's great anguish as the dimensions of his role are gradually revealed to him by the omen of the dropped gauntlet, Ganelon's nomination of Roland to the rearguard, the premonitory dreams, and, finally, the traitor's attempt at deception when the sound of the oliphant is heard.
It has been stated that the vagueness of the warnings received by Charles--he knows who will betray him but not how the deed will be perpetrated--explains the Emperor's inability to stay the onrushing catastrophe. Charlemagne is guided by an inner light that, the poet makes clear, comes directly from God. He may not know all, but this is not the point. In the gospel narrative of the Last Supper, the details of Christ's knowledge of Judas's treachery do not concern us. What matters in the New Testament and in the Song of Roland is the determination to play the role assigned by God to the bitter end.
Charles survives his nephew, and it is obvious that Turoldus attached a good deal of importance to his serving as a post-humous witness to Roland's edifying death. (pp. 95-6)
For the American scholar Roland's essential virtue is his loyalty, that is, the unswerving allegiance he gives to his friends, his family, his king, his country, and his faith. To sustain him in his fidelity, the poet grants him exceptional courage but also the fault of his virtue, rashness. According to Jenkins [see 1924 excerpt by Jenkins], this tragic flaw, coupled with excessive sensitivity as to his military reputation, brings about the disaster. Roland recognizes his error, has a change of heart, and atones for his misdeed by his suffering and his death. Conversely, Faral considers valor to be the hero's chief quality, and, while he concedes that Roland's bravery borders on recklessness, he insists that Turoldus merely wished thereby to enhance the beauty and grandeur of his heroism. Roland remained true to himself and in no way felt the need to expiate any sin or wrongdoing.
Jenkins points out that it is only Roland's enemies who accuse him of pride and that Oliver's charge of recklessness comes "in the heat of battle and the exasperation of defeat." This distinction, which is not drawn by Faral or by most of the critics in either scholar's wake, is crucial to our understanding of the poet's intention.
Jones has shown that fierceness and justifiable pride (fiertet) are always praiseworthy in the Song of Roland, as opposed to arrogance and haughtiness (orgoill), which are treated with contempt. "Nevertheless, this professed disapproval of arrogance must have been largely theoretical; for most of the characters of the epic behave arrogantly, especially the most admirable ones. Certainly Roland's braggadocio is the epitome of haughtiness." Jones could not have selected a less suitable passage to support his assertion, for it refers to Roland's apostrophe to his sword. Few words in Turoldus's poem have any absolute value. Applied indifferently to both good and evil characters and situations, terms such as these derive much of their force from a rigid categorization assumed from the start. Superbia in the Song of Roland is incarnated first and foremost by the Saracens, notably Baligant, and it is symbolized by the mountain citadel of Saragossa. It is also a trait associated with Ganelon. There is no textual support for any psychomachia within Roland; there is no evidence that he undergoes any change whatsoever. The view that the hero experiences a conversion or transformation is a lame assertion.
Roland is the ideal knight, his proece combining all chivalric virtues, the ability to impart sound advice (consilium) as well as the courage and strength to be of formidable assistance in combat (auxilium). In view of the traditional interpretations of Roland's character, it may seem paradoxical to maintain that, on a spiritual plane, beyond worldly chivalry, the hero personifies Humilitas. In medieval thought true humility consisted in recognizing one's lowly condition compared with God's greatness, one's need to surrender oneself completely to the dictates of the divine Will, and one's total dependence upon grace. Having demonstrated his humility in his speech in Laisse 14, urging Charles to carry on the struggle against Marsile, and in his debate with Oliver, maintaining that Folly is Wisdom, Roland begins his spiritual ascent. (pp. 96-7)
Far too much emphasis has been placed on the negative views of Roland derived from statements made by Ganelon and Oliver. Turoldus's own characterization of the hero is reflected in Charlemagne's perception of his nephew, notably in his lament and in his anecdote recognizing the prophetic significance of the hero's words at Aix.
Another important aspect of Roland's character should be discussed here. Anna Granville Hatcher, in an article [in the Romantic Review, 1949] seeking to explain why the heroine of the Old French Sequence of Saint Eulalia (ninth century) elects to suffer martyrdom rather than lose her virginity, has equated physical virginity with Christianity. But, as F. J. Barnett has pointed out [in a 1959 essay in French Studies and in Studies in Medieval French Presented to Alfred Ewert in Honour of His Seventieth Birthday (1961)], the Church never stipulated physical virginity as a condition for salvation. Barnett argues persuasively that what is involved in Eulalia is virginity of the heart, mind, or soul, which the Church Fathers, notably Saint Augustine, stressed repeatedly. (pp. 98-9)
In the Song of Roland Virginitas and the related concepts of intactness (entireness, quality of being uninjured), integrity (quality, state of completeness, of being unimpaired), and inviolability (unassailability) lead inexorably to the hero:
--Roland dies but suffers not a single wound, except that his temples burst from sounding the oliphant. The major threats he overcomes in this respect are Oliver's blow and the Saracen army's assault, but in each case the hero remains unscathed.
--Durendal reflects Roland's many shining virtues, but the fact that it cannot be destroyed, even after repeated attempts by its owner, implies that nothing can break the hero's spirit. Compare the image of the shattered lance in Charlemagne's first dream.
--Roland prays to the Virgin and his sword holds a relic of her clothing.
--Roland carries a white ensign lashed to the tip of his spear; at Roncevaux his heart is placed in a white casket and, later, his body in a white coffin. Whiteness is associated with martyrdom but also with chastity, purity of heart, and virginity. (p. 99)
One may also add that the hero of the Song of Roland is referred to by Charles in his lament as a juvente bele ["noble youth"] and that he is engaged, not married, to Oliver's sister. When Alda learns of his death at Roncevaux, she immediately falls dead at Charles's feet and is buried in a nunnery. Her maidenhood is never in doubt and, because she is linked to Roland, her virginity may be said to reflect his. (p. 100)
It is difficult for present-day readers to accept that a character can be all bad, and there is a tendency--especially since the Romantic period--to view villains as alienated, misunderstood, or, for one reason or another, not entirely to blame for the crimes they perpetrate. Many critics feel a decided sympathy for Ganelon and suggest that he is goaded into his fury and treason by a tactless Roland, shows courage in his dealings with Marsile, and has a strong case when he pleads justifiable homicide during the trial at Aix. The plain fact is that Turoldus and his contemporaries considered Ganelon to be completely evil. Like the Saracens or Satan himself in the Song of Roland, Ganelon has no redeeming trait whatsoever.
Scholars have long puzzled over the question: Why does Ganelon hate Roland? Turoldus makes it thoroughly clear that the villain sold the rearguard.... Ganelon's claim that he was cheated out of gold and riches by Roland reveals more about himself than about his stepson, and his claim in v. 3771 that it was the hero who hated him, not vice-versa, should be interpreted in similar fashion. (pp. 100-01)
Most critics, however, are inclined to believe that the real reason for Ganelon's betrayal is the slight he suffers in the scene where Roland nominates his stepfather for the perilous mission to Saragossa. Others suggest that a feud between Ganelon and Roland has been smouldering for some time before the poem begins. At any rate, the allegation of greed is generally viewed as a secondary motive at best, when it is not dismissed out of hand as totally irrelevant.
Such an interpretation reflects modern values, which regard avarice as a lesser vice and a certain amount of acquisitiveness as justifiable and even normal. In Turoldus's day Pride and Avarice were considered to be the root of all evil, a view based on Scripture....
Once Avarice has been placed in its Romanesque setting, one is in a better position to appreciate what Turoldus repeatedly states about Ganelon's essential motivation for betraying Roland. Greed nurtured his hatred for his stepson and, when the poem opens, had already pushed him to the edge of the precipice, over which he falls in the quarrel scene. Each successive episode reveals a new facet of his growing depravity. The affront merely serves as a catalyst for vicious proclivities in Ganelon antedating the poem but successfully masked until that moment. (p. 101)
To sum up, Ganelon is essentially a Judas figure, and it is Avarice that leads him to betray Roland and, by implication, Charlemagne and God. Unable to elude the snares of the devil, a weakness recognized by the Emperor, he resorts to lying in a vain attempt to cover up his misdeeds. His handsomeness is part of the fraudulence traditionally associated with Covetousness (and Satan!), and his alleged courage before Marsile needs to be interpreted in this light. It is Avarice, too, that makes Ganelon jealous of Roland's sway over his companions and over Charles....
In discussions of the various characters in the Song of Roland, Oliver usually receives the most favorable comment. Most scholars agree that Roland is the central hero, yet they find one aspect or another of his behavior repellent. They either conclude that Turoldus himself disapproved of Roland or assert that he represents a value system that is completely discredited today. Oliver, however, is generally well liked. He is, according to a typical assessment, "the most lovable of all the characters." (p. 103)
The archetypal comrade-in-arms, Oliver simply has a different concept of duty from that exemplified by the hero.
Oliver is without a doubt the most difficult character to interpret in Turoldus's poem. One misconception has confused the issue. Sage, in modern French, can mean "modéré, retenu, maître de ses passions, réglé dans sa conduite" ["moderate," "cautious," "master of one's passions," "steady in one's behavior"], but this sense was not attested to at this time, or indeed until the seventeenth century. In Old French, saige or saive refers primarily to unusual understanding of people or situations, judiciousness, or skill. This is not at all the same as the caution as to danger or risk, or the careful weighing of all possible consequences before taking action, which are inherent meanings in the present-day concept.
Modern critics have been unduly influenced by the classical notion that fortitudo ["strength"] and sapientia ["wisdom"] are the essential virtues of the warrior, and that one quality balances the other in the ideal hero. Valuable as this ideal may have been in antiquity, or may even be for us today, it would be a mistake to assume that Turoldus held it in similar esteem.
Oliver is really very much the same as Roland, and Turoldus makes it clear that both individuals have all the chivalric virtues. Proper balance in no way distinguishes one from the other, Oliver's claim notwithstanding. The crucial battlefield debate is not designed to contrapose Oliver's wisdom with Roland's folly; rather it serves to highlight the nature of the hero's agonizing choice. Oliver is a hero, possessing every human quality; Roland is a super-hero having Sapiential vision as an added attribute, and therein lies a world of difference. In other words, if one considers each character without proper regard for the martyr-ideal Roland incarnates, one misses the author's point completely. The modern reader is free of course to conclude that Oliver's advice should have been followed, but it would be a serious error to believe that Turoldus felt that way. Such a view is out of keeping with clerical values and with what is manifestly the Song of Roland's central meaning.
The role of Archbishop Turpin as a vigorous, warlike prelate poses no particular problem, for examples of such militancy on the part of contemporary clergymen come readily to mind. Everyone recognizes, too, that Turpin's presence on the battlefield helps to give the struggle a religious character. This is apparent in the Archbishop's intervention in the debate between Roland and Oliver, and in his statements and activities relative to death and its meaning in the poem. (pp. 103-04)
[Bramimonde's] repeated references to Charlemagne ... are a clear indication that her role is inextricably linked to that of the Emperor. In fact, the notion of winning the hearts of the Saracens in the Song of Roland usually involves Charlemagne, and it is he whose magnanimous gesture, after the fall of Saragossa, makes the edifying conclusion of the poem possible. But it is Bramimonde's repudiation of her pagan gods and her adoption of Christianity par amur ["through love"] that offer the most significant manifestation of the Theme of Conversion in Turoldus's epic. The conquest of foreign lands and Bramimonde's submission at Saragossa play an obvious part in the narrative of defeat turned into victory, but such images also figure in the poem's religious dimension.
Paien unt tort e chrestïens unt dreit ["Pagans are wrong and Christians are right"], asserts Turoldus in a formula celebrated for its glaring simplicity. Turoldus's world view has decidedly black and white characteristics; bad on one side, good on the other. In general the men who make up Charlemagne's army display traditional chivalric virtues, notably bravery and loyalty, and their Christian convictions are unshakable. Their contentiousness, propensity for warfare, and thirst for revenge are doubtless accurate reflections of eleventh-century aristocratic behavior, but they should also be viewed in light of the poem's agonistic theme--the struggle of the virtues and vices for man's soul.
Turoldus nonetheless does ascribe one major weakness to the faceless Franks and even, on occasion, to individuals designated by name or nationality. The Franks vacillate, tend to agree with whoever has spoken last and, above all, cannot be relied upon to give sound advice. This disturbing characteristic is evident in the first French council, when Roland's plea to reject Marsile's proposals, which the audience knows are deceitful, are ignored; whereas Naimes's fateful speech, in effect seconding Ganelon's base counsel, wins immediate general approval. In his initial speech Roland does not hesitate to pillory the advice the Emperor is likely to receive from the Franks, reminding Charles of an earlier parallel occasion involving messengers bearing olive branches, similar proposals, and the ill-fated Basan and Basile.... (pp. 106-07)
The Franks are quick to agree with Roland's momentous nomination of Ganelon to carry the Emperor's counterproposal to Saragossa and doubtless misinterpret the significance of the gauntlet dropped by Ganelon. Their untrustworthiness in council is nowhere more apparent than in the trial of Ganelon, where, intimidated by Pinabel, they ask Charles to drop the case against the traitor. Characteristically the Franks agree to another solution--the judicial combat. After Pinabel's menacing presence has been removed, they finally come up with an equitable verdict.
Duke Naimes, Charlemagne's private counselor, is one of the most complicated of the minor French characters in the poem. In the early scenes he recommends mercy when perseverance is called for, and his suggestion that Charles offer half his army to his nephew is brushed aside by Roland. Privileged to share in the knowledge imparted to Charles by a celestial messenger--to be sure, he may only have an imperfect grasp of the meaning of the dream--he plays the mute, until it is too late. In the Emperor's hour of greatest need, he stands by while Thierry champions Charlemagne's cause. Clearly Thierry surpasses Naimes in auxilium, Ogier outdoes him in consilium.
In the trial of Ganelon fear obviously inhibits the Franks' capacity to offer proper counsel, and, in retrospect, one wonders whether, in the first council, the traitor's commanding and perhaps threatening presence may not have been a factor motivating their prompt concurrence in Naimes's proposal. Militating against this view is the fact that the Franks just as quickly endorse Roland's nomination of his stepfather for the mission to Saragossa. It seems very likely, too, that war-weariness rather than anxiety or lack of courage prompts them to support any proposal that will bring their seven-year involvement in the Spanish campaign to an honorable end in the most expeditious way.
If fear cannot be said to be at the root of the Franks' legerie, their constant weeping offers another possible explanation. Emotionalism corresponds to irresolution and often leads to hasty and injudicious decisions. But crying is a conventional expression of concern or grief in medieval epics, and Turoldus's heroes--Charlemagne in particular, who is associated with Sapientia--not infrequently shed tears.
In the final analysis the unreliability of the Franks in council, like the circularity of Oliver's argumentation in his debate with Roland, appears to be a device used by the poet to bring out the vanity of worldly wisdom and the transcendence of Sapientia. Viewed from this perspective, the Franks in the Song of Roland are the inverted image of Charlemagne. On occasion Christ upbraided his disciples for being men of little faith and for requiring signs and wonders. Similarly, the faith of Charlemagne's men needs constant bolstering with miraculous occurrences, such as Roland's death and Thierry's victory over Pinabel. However, it must be said to their credit that, having seen a sign from Heaven, the Franks take prompt and appropriate action. Also, whatever human failings they may have pale into insignificance when the Franks meet their end in edifying fashion as martyrs.
What few contacts French merchants, soldiers, and travelers had with the Muslim world in the eleventh century contributed little if anything to Turoldus's knowledge of the Saracens. The enemies ranged before the Christians are a strange amalgam of folk beliefs, feudal institutions and practices, scraps of information ultimately derived from classical sources, and stereotypes stemming from the Bible. The conventional portrait of the Saracen, which emerges from a reading of the Song of Roland as well as other chansons de geste, has been studied in detail by a number of scholars.
What is perhaps most singular is the lumping together of disparate groups from Islam and from other parts of the world, notably from Eastern Europe. The cartographers of Turoldus's day recognized three major geographical areas--Africa, Asia, and Europe--but clerks tended to classify nations according to whether they lived under the Old Law (Jews), the New Law (Christians), or the False Law (Saracens).... (pp. 107-08)
The greatest misconception concerns religion. The Saracens are characterized by Turoldus as idolaters and worshippers of the trinity of gods Apollo, Mohammed, and Tervagant. Their land, like Egypt to the Fathers of the Church, is held to be a place of darkness inhabited by hardhearted men given to sorcery and other vile practices. (pp. 108-09)
Although Saracens in the Song of Roland are at times outwardly indistinguishable in their appearance and behavior from the Christians--certain descriptive adjectives are used interchangeably for either group--the very thought of Saracens triggered a negative reaction in contemporary audiences. The latter considered all pagans to have perverted natures and expected them to be forever engaged in evil activities. The Saracens were universally regarded as being possessed by the devil, a belief that accounts for their impurity, swarthiness, and ugliness in medieval literature. Their pride, that is, their false reliance on their own strength, is underscored ..., and it is only fitting that such treacherous individuals should consort with the traitor Ganelon. There is some evidence of admiration for the Saracens in later chronicles, but none is to be found in the Song of Roland. Epithets seemingly implying a favorable opinion of the Saracens belong to the category of terms denoting lying exteriors.
The pagan leaders Baligant and Marsile deserve special note. As to be expected in such a biased account, the Saracens in question are incarnations of every imaginable vice. Baligant appears far more haughty, and his role, which is to oppose Charlemagne in an apocalyptic confrontation, is clearly affected by the image of Antichrist. His behavior, moreover, involves contemptible aping of the Emperor and Roland. Marsile, on the other hand, suffers one indignity after another, and the chronicling of his despair, growing deeper with each succeeding episode--the first syllable of his name ... is an expression of woe in Old French--constitutes a scathing denunciation of pagan life and worship.
The word tirant does not appear in the Song of Roland, yet Saracens, especially their leaders, were frequently associated with cruel tyrants throughout the Middle Ages. It is safe to assume that such a notion influenced Turoldus's conception of Baligant and Marsile. The medieval iconographic formula for the tyrant--a crowned and enthroned figure often shown in profile rather than frontally--comes particularly to mind when the Saracen chieftains are described by Turoldus as seated.... In the Middle Ages tyrant conjured up less the notion of absolutism than that of a monstrous and relentless persecutor of Christians. Religious overtones are clear, for instance, when the individuals who crucified Jesus are referred to as tiranz in Les Chétifs. It seems reasonable to conclude, therefore, that the poet's idea of Baligant and Marsile is not entirely foreign to that of Herod, murderer of the Holy Innocents ..., and the succession of diabolic magistrates and rulers who cause the martyrs to suffer unspeakable tortures in the saints' lives. In the end, all are frustrated by the hero's victorious death.
One of Turoldus's most disconcerting habits, insofar as the modern reader is concerned, is to portray Saracens thinking like Christians. The poet goes far beyond showing Muslims wearing Western armor or living under the feudal system, for he also implies they are thoroughly familiar with the Bible.
Thus, for example, Marsile has his ambassadors imitate Christ's Entry into Jerusalem; the same messengers presumably grasp the significance of the Last Judgment scene that greets them on their arrival in Charles's camp; and Ganelon, on the ride to Saragossa, expects Blancandrin to understand the allusion to Roland as a diabolic seducer. Such depictions should not be scorned for their lack of realism but viewed in terms of their own esthetic: A biblical reference is a natural and effective way of imparting an aura of blasphemy to foul deeds. (pp. 109-10)
Source Citation (MLA 8th Edition) Brault, Gerard J. "Character Portrayal." Classical and Medieval Literature Criticism, edited by Dennis Poupard and Jelena O. Krstovic, vol. 1, Gale, 1988. Literature Resource Center, http://link.galegroup.com/apps/doc/H1420009188/LitRC?u=tel_a_nsti&sid=LitRC&xid=f59eb91e. Accessed 18 Apr. 2018. Originally published in The Song of Roland: An Analytical Edition, Introduction and Commentary, by Gerard J. Brault, edited by Gerard J. Brault, vol. 1, The Pennsylvania State University Press, 1978, pp. 89-110.Gale Document Number: GALE|H1420009188
