The Song of Roland is filled with suspense, adventure, and excitement. No matter when the story is written, the Iliad by Homer and all the way to the modern gladitorial story of the Hunger Games, dramatic irony works fluently and flawlessly throughout literary history.
Dramatic irony is when the audience is well aware of the proceeding events in the story, or understands the context of the events, while the character is clueless. Even though each member of the audience is empowered with this knowledge, and in no way is vulnerable to being harmed by any events in the story, the audience still experiences a mimesis of the emotions the protagonist experiences in the story.
This mysterious literary technique is quite apparent in the Song of Roland, certainly in the battle sequences that appear in Laisses 91-130. In this section, we feel the awestruck fear Olivier experiences at the sight of the Paynim's forces. We experience the suspense in the battle as the French, as valiant as they are, cannot withstand the quantity of their enemies. And finally, we experience a sense of relief and loss as the Oliphant is sound for a retreat. Through all of this, we have been told by the author prior to these events, that Roland will lead the Franks in victory over the Paynims. Yet, we still experience the character's emotions as if we were in their own place.
In the Song of Roland, the poet makes a very sure distinction between not only the pagans and the Franks, but also between each of the individual characters. Through the heroes and villains in the story, the poet gives a moral expectation for the neo-Romans in Francia. The two heroes in the story, Charlemagne and Roland, symbolise heroism through their actions. Charlemagne, who is two centuries old and has gathered quite a lot of wisdom at this stage of his life, identifies with a more paternal figure and heroism. In the Song, Charlemagne is quite the opposite of the virile hero we might picture. Instead, he is a small, shriveled and ancient man, aged by life and the many battles he fights. He is wise, humble, and diplomatic. He symobolises one side of heroism in the Song.
Roland is depicted as a young fellow, well [self-] absorbed in his own youth. He is strong, noble, brave, and proud. He is the young virile hero we might imagine a medieval hero to be, and perhaps he was the one from which Charlemagne aged. While Roland lacks the wisdom and humility gained with age, he possess the physical prowess necessary in combat. And here lies the other side of heroism in the epic. However, it is important to note that without diplomacy, strength is useless; without humility, pride has no meaning; without wisdom, power is weakness. And so it is exemplified in the Song.
The Crusades is a tricky topic among Christians and non-Christians today. The sweet pious imagery of Christians we perceive from the medieval world completely mystifies the reason behind the horrific actions of the numerous Crusades. However, historians are well aware that these raids through the Holy Lands were by no means ignorant bursts of hatred. The Crusades were considered, by the Christians who participated in them, a Holy War. This was not merely a pillaging of Islamic land, this was a divine war, God-ordained, this was a way to establish your place in sainthood! The Song of Roland demonstrates to the general population of Francia that the act of murdering and pillaging through Arabia was not only justified, but proved their faith. Mark Dominik, in the essay he translates, notes the different literary elements of the Song that point toward a propaganda nature.
Dominik identifies that the work is much aligned with a national epic, just as the Iliad was for the Greeks, and the Aeneid was for Rome. The Franks of Francia are a newly established empire, or more correctly, a newly gathered tribes-people. Having witnessed the quality of power the Roman Empire had possessed over the known world, the Franks had a strong desire to be Rome, and through Clovis's conversion and Charlemagne's name, they were able to accomplish just this. While they now held the name, the Franks knew something was missing. The Rome they had seen had been overrun by Muslims.
Here is justification number one: the Crusades are only taking back their own land; robbing the robbers; becoming Robin Hood for the Mediterranean.
Not only do the Franks find a national identity within the Song, they are also able to mythologise religious and political leaders into epic heroes and small battles into great war triggers. The Song of Roland articulates the many atrocities that happened in the battle of Roncevaux at the hands of the evil Muslims, when in fact this was a short battle with the Basques. The heroes of this story end up being both the sacrificial Roland and the omnibenevolent Charlemagne. Dominik notes that both of these men take on the role of Christ symbolically in the Song, providing a tactile embodiment of Christ as a role model of the ideal Frankish Christian citizen, as Aeneas did in the Aeneid and Achilles in the Iliad. And here come the second justification: the Crusades are an act of justice for our fallen hero and serve as a way of imitating a morally upright Christian.
Another element the author notes abundant throughout the Song is the mentality the poem develops. In the Song, the poet readily establishes an "us vs. them" mentality. The Song never establishes that the enemy they fight are specifically of the Islamic religion. Instead, much broader terms are used, such as pagans. This term not only includes Muslims, which the Crusades were primarily targeted at, but also any non-Christians. Charlemagne not only picked fights with Arabs, but also much further North with Saxons, also of a 'pagan' religion. In addition to this division, the Song clearly denotes the moral purity of themselves (the Christian) against the incurable immorality of the pagans (perhaps Saxons and Muslims). This immorality was seen to such a radical degree that the very language of the poem begins to dehumanise the enemy. Their view of morality remained very black and white. Since all Franks were Christians and all Christians were morally correct, all Franks were morally pure. And also since Christianity was the only way, all non-Christians (read pagans) were evil. Finally, here is the third justification: the Crusades served as a way of keeping the Mediterranean world pure from pagan (evil) contaminants (of a non-human source), and encouraging the world toward a Godly and upright moral standard.
The complex and questionable nature of the Crusades was of the same nature even prior to the First Crusade. However, the justification of their actions, as demonstrated through Dominik's essay on the Song of Roland, shows a thorough moral compensation for the atrocities committed by the wandering Crusaders. Unfortunately, the propaganda of literary articles such as the Song worked in making the Crusades of a "Christian" source.
A typical night in the glory of an Arabian province. A wealthy turban-ed man comes home from a long day of work managing his local oil rig, producing millions upon millions of dollars each week. "Salem, Abdul!", cautiously says one of this seven wives. Yes, this man's name is indeed Abdul Muhammed Nassar. "Prepare me my falafel, woman!" he yells back sternly, and quite honestly, forgetting whether it was Fatima or Alia whom he addressed. At no more than this, the unknown wife runs back into her familiar place in the kitchen, fearing for her life, considering the fate of her predecessors. After all, Abdul has had a long day at work, his personal belly-dancer was ill today, and his cousin, Hakeem Muhammed Sarkis, had died in a local bombing (one which he himself initiated, of course), and at any point, her husband could act homicidally.
What must this do with Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves? In this apparently simple story, the under lying theme does its best to reject and discredit the many stereotypes the West has developed about the arab culture, most prominently, those regarding Arab women.
Marjana is the lowest of low. She is a slave. And not only is she a slave, be that bad enough, she is a female slave. She serves her master, Qasim, until he is murdered. She then helps dispose of the body by faking a post-mortem death. Be that not clever enough, she saves the life of her more heroic master, Ali Baba, on multiple accounts and continues to murder thirty-eight thieves. Her keen intellect and sharp wits are demonstrated throughout our story, emphasising the fact that this woman is only good befriended, or married to, as Ali Baba took to.
The cleverness of Marjana in Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves annihilates all and any remaining stereotypes about either slaves or women that were perpetuated by the readings of such misogynous stories such as the The Tale of Scheherazade. In that story, the only role women played was to destroy the lives of men, extracting the only meaningful moral which was to control your wives through any means, especially if it means physical beatings or execution. In contrast, Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves demonstrates women in a way that strongly benefits the house of Ali Baba Instead of chaos breaking when the woman deals in secrecy, Ali Baba life is spared multiple times, noting that women are much more beneficial in deception than in tight grips, another common stereotype of arab culture.
The Tale of Scheherazade is a fascinating story of two Arabian men defending their own status of manliness from the actions of their very own wives. Despite its quite simple plot and curious (especially to westerners) moral theme, this Tale of Scheherazade offers an abundance of commentary of the workings of Arabian literature in the culture it was being read.
One important element I noted in reading The Tale of Scheherazade was the emphasis put into the character descriptions and the conflicts between the characters. Interestingly, the sole source of conflicts in this story is adultery, a practice frowned down upon in many cultures, especially in Islamic Arabia. In many western stories, we see conflict between men and men, men and gods, and gods and gods. Here we have an instance of conflict between man and wife, familial bonds broken, never to be repaired. Family is an important part of all cultures, and serves a great plot twist when there are marital bonds betrayed. In Sophocles' Oresteia, family bonds are treated with just as much emphasis and are dramatised in similar degrees. As for character description, the story places heavy emphasis on the relationship of one's social status with their racial and aesthetic characteristics.
Another element that plays in the story is the immersion of religious and political law. In the story, when the wives and their lovers are caught in adultery, the natural response was capital punishment. Law appears unquestionable in this story, as the punishments dealt in the story are termed in such "matter-of-fact" words.
The last part of the narrative that I found interesting was its fairytale-esque mannerisms. The story is presented within another story. There is a mythical element to it that coordinates with the reality of the story. And most notably in Burton's translation, there is an almost "forced" rhythm and metre to it. Each of these parts reminds me of tales of Aesop and Grimm, while having the mature content and sophistry of Homer and Virgil.
