One More Look at the Conversion of Feirefiz

In class we debated over whether or not Feirefiz's conversion was sincere. I think most of us agreed that the conversion was questionable. It seems that Feirefiz only converts for the love of Repanse de Schoye. We are given much evidence of this in the text. "'If I were baptized for your sakes, would Baptism help me to win love?' asked the infidel son of Gahmuret" (p. 404). However, before we put the subject to rest, I wanted to talk about Feirefiz after the conversion.

Feirefiz's life in India, after the conversion to Christianity, seems to prove that a true conversion did take place on his part. Wolfram tells us, "Feirefiz has letters sent throughout the land of India describing the Christian life, which had not prospered so much till then" (p.408). Although the text only provides us with this very short and very brief description of Feirefiz's life post conversion, it is evident that his conversion was valid. Thus, even though Feirefiz might not have chosen to be baptized as a way to become a Christian, he still embraced Christianity afterwards. As a true convert, he uses letters to spread Christianity in the heathen world.

On the other hand, this short passage can also be used to validate our class conclusion: the conversion of Feirefiz was for the love of Repanse de Schoye and therefore cannot be considered a true conversion to Christianity. Since Wolfram provides no indication of what is said in these letters, it could be assumed that Feirefiz is solely praising the Christian life because through it he obtained the woman he most desired. It is obvious that the marriage was a prosperous one: the couple had five children. The image created of Feirefiz's life after his conversion differs from that of the wandering playboy knight who fights many battles and has many women. It is the life of a content married man. This happiness could possibly stem more from his wife than Christianity.

The Intertwine of Christianity and Paganism

I find this story to have one of the most complicated characters in the form of the Green Knight in relation to his allegiances. In fact, he seems to tread the border between Christianity and Paganism. He is completely green and it seems to indicate his affiliation with nature and the link to pagan beliefs. He also holds a holly bob in his hand, a symbol of his devotion to nature. And yet intertwined in his hair is gold. This also is found inlaid in parts of the armor and axe. This gold seems to be connected to Christianity and nobility since so far everyone has been so adorned. Also the Green Knight is in fact a knight. The narrator and the reaction of the court seems to support this fact. He is treated as nobility and in relation to that as a Christian. And yet he is otherworldly, superhuman in physical terms and spiritually supernatural as he survives the beheading. I find his appearance during the Christmas celebrations to also be indicative of his challenge towards Christianity. It is after all among the greatest Christian holidays and he decides to challenge the court during it's celebration in an especially rude way.

Following his departure, I find the passing of the seasons to be caught up in this struggle. I find it interesting that nature's cycle during the year is described as transformation. The trouble is taken to personify the natural world as alive. And yet it also seems as though Christian beliefs applied to this transformation when "the cold cheer of Lent" leads into the year and "Michaelmas" leads to Gawain's exit from the court (502, 532). In fact, he even leaves on All Saint's Day, a celebration of the dead saints. The bookending of nature's yearly cycle by Christian holidays wraps up this weird intertwining of religions. I also find it ironic that All Saints Day is when Gawain sets off with little hope in his or anyones heart of returning. Mayhap he'll be celebrated in the next year?


I feel this battle of faiths to continue on Gawain's journey. Even before he set's off he his encased in armor beautiful and protective and affixed with the finest gold, as mentioned numerous times. The gold and emphasis on protection, knightly values and the shield with all its allusions to Christian faith appear to form almost a suit of God's armor. He ends the encasing with a prayer for safety and success which again reestablishes the connection of Gawain to God and even declares, "In destinies sad or merry, True men can but try," which seems to indicate that he leaves his fate in God's hands and that he will simply do his best (564-565).

The fight continues even on his travels as it seems all of nature conspires against him including all man of creatures from wolves and wild men to the cold itself. He fights on through wilderness that seems to have sprung up adversely following his departure from the safety of the Christian court. And yet it seems that Christianity does not abandon him in need as per his prayer a place for mass in the form of a castle is provided him, and yet I still question the validity of the castle as we head into Part 3. I think it will be interesting to see how the struggle between these to forces will play out, and I will be equally interested in the character of the Green Knight to see if he is truly as intertwined as I find him to be so far.

Last Words on Roland and Beowulf

I stumbled across a blog mentioning a comic book series from IDW Publishing coming out on the Beowulf story right after the movie. I know we pondered what Beowulf looked like in class, but here’s a rendering of him for this comic book.

I would like to discuss the deaths of both Beowulf and Roland in this posting. We have argued both to have substantial reason for the label of the other. Both heroes go above and beyond other warriors with the desire to kill many or, in Beowulf’s case, kill evil creatures. Their last breaths on earth are somewhat similar in agency and effect and I think it would be important to point out in terms of otherness and in further understanding the Christian/pagan ambiguity we find in Beowulf.

When Beowulf begins to die (a death which is not nearly as long and drawn out as Roland’s) he quickly alerts us that he wished to pass on his armor to his son, if he had one (136). Beowulf informs Wiglaf and the readers of his lack of an heir and he blames fate for not granting it. Beowulf proceeds to weigh his actions in a pre-judgment before he leaves this world. He can’t seem to find anything wrong with his past deeds. He vocalizes that he “sought no intrigues, nor swore many false or wrongful oaths” (137). Beowulf begins to reflect on his life, and justify that he has been a good man. Beowulf also feels redeemed by the fact he never committed, “the murder of kinsmen” (137). It is interesting that Beowulf would bring this up in his last words. He is alluding to the past stories of Hildeburh and allusions with Unferth (his fratricide) and Grendel (associated with Cain).

Beowulf then wants to view the treasure one last time and gives thanks for the goods, since they will be given to his people. He feels he has fulfilled his duty or worth to the people, even though it is later noted that the treasure doesn’t help the Geats. Materialism has consistently been a motif in the story, however, it fails to aid Beowulf’s people in the end. It is poignant that Beowulf’s last words are “I must follow them” (139). For all of Beowulf’s life, he has been the leader and later, king. Beowulf is steadfast and in many instances in his life, self-proclaims that he must take charge or do battle alone. Being a leader is the only identity Beowulf knows in this world. Now, he is ready to be subservient to the next world, his “final destiny.”

With Song of Roland, there is a one-sided dialogue with a Higher Being as well, and Roland feels confident in his self-worth. Roland is mortally wounded, yet he kills many more Saracens in an effort to achieve his self-worth. This is paralleled to the treasure Beowulf has placed for his people. Roland also hides his sword under him so the Saracens will not take the holy Christian relic. Here again, there is a protection or armor and swords to have them passed down to his people, just as Beowulf speaks of his armor. When Roland has finally placed himself in the best position to die, he begins to beseech forgiveness from God, and reflects on his life. Roland’s last words are for forgiveness and salvation in heaven. “Save Thou my soul from danger and despite / Of all the sins I did in all my life” (142). This is interesting because for all of the story, Roland has been the one mercilessly killing Saracens. In Roland’s judgment, he acknowledges he has done wrong and asks for mercy from God.

When a great character ends his legacy, he culminates in noble actions and words. Beowulf and Roland are two interesting characters to line up with their ends to evaluate the Christian/Pagan ambiguity assigned to Beowulf. In Roland, he has a clear knowledge of God and what he needs to do in order to get to heaven, which he accomplishes. Beowulf is certain that he is following his kinsmen to the other world, but no clear place is labeled. God is named as Ruler of men in the last new lines. Instead of making peace with God, Beowulf requests for a monument to be built in honor of him, so that he will have his fame on earth. In Roland’s final breaths, he is focused on his immortality in next world, and Beowulf is focused on making his immortality in this world with “Beowulf’s Barrow.”

Nonetheless, there is humility in the last words uttered by each hero. For Roland, it is a cry for mercy for sins committed on earth, and for Beowulf, it’s acceptance of the dependency he will need in the afterlife.

The Devine Power in Beowulf’s Hands

In “Elements of the Marvellous in the Characterization of Beowulf: A Reconsideration of the Textual Evidence,” Fred C. Robinson fails to acknowledge certain elements within the passages he examines that not only speak to Beowulf’s super-human or supernatural power, but elevate him to a status closely associated with the divine and transform him into an ‘other.’ Through a close examination of the text, and by re-examining the translation of certain passages, Robinson affirms Beowulf’s status as a ‘heroic hero’ or ‘man,’ rather than a ‘demi-god, ’ and asserts that his ‘super human strength has been largely fictionalized’ (80): Yet, Robinson seems to focus only on those details that support his arguments, and although he is persuasive at times, there are elements in the story that contradict his arguments.

It is curious how Robinson in his essay devotes little attention to the fight between Grendel and Beowulf. Robinson does point out that ‘Beowulf lacked the strength to hold the monster in the hall,’ yet he fails to acknowledge that the main character exhibits superhuman strength by literally ripping one of Grendel’s arms out of the socket with his bare hands, during the fight. Afterwards, King Hrothgar exhibits the arm for all to see, and at the same time is figuratively displaying Beowulf’s superhuman or supernatural power - Grendel’s dismemberment becomes symbolic of Beowulf’s superhuman strength. Beowulf’s strength is a characteristic that sets him apart from everyone else in the story, and it persistently establishes him as a ‘heroic hero,’ with all the virtues and characteristics assigned to a ‘hero’: In the same instance, it also elevates Beowulf above the image of a ‘mortal man,’ and pushes him into a realm that promises immortality and transforms the main character into an ‘other.’ Line 789, ‘he who among men was the strongest of might,’ seems to illustrate this. Moreover, Beowulf’s superhuman strength seems repeatedly invoked when the poet describes his hands and grip, which I think also become symbolic of his strength for it is through his hands and grip that he ‘mortally wounds’ Grendel. Robinson also fails to examine how Paganism and Christianity are instilled within Beowulf, and instill him with a supernatural strength.

In my previous blog, I argued that Beowulf simultaneously possesses both Pagan and Christian elements within his character. I think the poet in assigning certain Pagan qualities to Beowulf, illustrates him as possessing a higher nature or much greater power, a super-power, than humans. Complimenting this, is the idea of Beowulf as both a ‘Christ-like’ figure, and, as Janel pointed out in a comment, a ‘martyr.’ Beowulf is seen as encompassing this Christian idea of ‘good,’ as well as Christ’s nature, when he defeats Grendel; he is carrying out God’s work, and one could view Beowulf’s superhuman strength as coming from or facilitated by God so that he can carry out ‘God’s anger.’ Reinforcing this idea is the image of Beowulf’s hands which become symbolic of the strength he possesses, and further associates him with God. In Christianity the hand is symbolic of the power and might of God, and the repeated image of Beowulf’s hands, as well as this image of Beowulf as a Christ-like figure, further instills a divine quality to his actions. Like Christ in the Gospel of Luke,. who is able to cast a demon out of a man through the authority of his word because God spoke through him, Beowulf is able to defeat Grendel, ‘a fiend from hell,’ through his superhuman strength, a power instilled in him by God. In light of this, Beowulf surpasses the notions assigned to a ‘heroic hero’ because he’s placed simultaneously within a Pagan and Christian context that seems to push him into a realm where he surpasses ‘mans’ mortality, and becomes the ‘other,’ for he is more than human, and although he can be seen as less of a god, he is none-the-less instilled with a divine power.

In the section, “The Swimming Feat with Breca,” Robinson convincingly make us question the amount of time Beowulf spends in the water fighting off the ‘man eaters,’ and also points out that that the main character might be seen as fighting these monsters on a boat or raft. Despite this, Beowulf does not only fight one sea creature, but nine, and he describes himself submerged in the water. In lines 553 and 554, Beowulf states, “Down to the ocean floor, a grisly foe dragged me,’ and we see the main character literally defeat a sea monster under water. Later on, Beowulf states how the ‘storm of battle took away that mighty sea beast, through my own hand.’ The battle figuratively speaks to the fight and tension (storm) between ‘Good and Evil,’ and in light of my previous argument that asserts Beowulf’s associations with the power and might of God, once again his hands become symbolic of a divine power, or perhaps in this case, of a divine intervention. Although Beowulf doesn’t use his bare hands to kill the first sea creature, this last line seems to reaffirm his associations with a divine power, for it ends on the image of his hands.

There seem to be a lot of flaws in Robinson’s arguments; he fails to acknowledge a number of elements that illustrate Beowulf as being more than a ‘man’ and a ‘heroic hero.’ At one point, he also argues that Beowulf is not ‘conceived as a romance hero,’ but I wonder why he didn’t examine the different ways Beowulf can be seen as a tragic-hero?
By the time Beowulf fights the dragon he is spiritually wounded by his previous experiences because they have been driven by his flaw, his hunger and desire for fame. In fact the very last line seems to illustrate him as a tragic hero, for it asserts that he was ‘the most eager for fame’; this too seems to contradict Robinson’s argument that Beowulf exists as a ‘heroic hero.’ It will be interesting to hear our class’s reaction to Robinson’s essay, and even more, to discover if they’ve found any additional flaws in his arguments.

Wrongness and Otherness

“How do the pagans in Beowulf differ from the pagans in The Song of Roland?” If the aim of the course is to examine the other within texts from the Middle Ages, then this question seems an apt topic to explore. Within these texts are two dissimilar constructions of difference within the same generalized “non-Christian” category. Yet, the treatment of the two groups of pagans is entirely different considering the pagans are characterized by a Christian author.

In The Song of Roland, the pagans are portrayed in no uncertain terms as Other. Although some Saracens are described in begrudgingly complimentary terms, the poet takes pains to ally their descriptions with condemnatory rhetoric. Saracens often speak with “evil” words, and the fate of their souls is in no way ambiguous. “The Paynim falls flat down with all his weight. / Then Satan comes and hales his soul away.” (laisse 96)

The poet of The Song of Roland tells the Franks how to view the Paynims, whereas in Beowulf, the author makes less effort to shape Beowulf’s morality based on his religious identity. Beowulf’s heroic actions shape his character, but the Saracens already exhibit vile characteristics, which their actions reinforce. While the Saracens are surely going to hell according to the poet of The Song of Roland, Beowulf’s poet does not go into the gritty details of Beowulf’s afterlife. The poet praises Beowulf's accomplishments, and it's clear that the poet is aware that the funeral pyre is a pagan ritual. The poet offers no negative or condemnatory commentary on Beowulf's funeral. As opposed to the death scenes of The Song of Roland, there is no devil to take Beowulf’s pagan soul to hell.

Roland’s infamous battle cry “Pagans are wrong and Christians are right” (laisse 79) constructs the terms of difference in The Song of Roland, and the language used to describe the vile infidels reinforces our hero’s axiom. However, morality in Beowulf is no where near as explicit. While the poet acknowledges that Beowulf and Hygelac are pagan kings, he describes them in hero’s language. Which begs the question, are pagans wrong in Beowulf? With no organizing binary, morality is vaguer and more debatable in Beowulf, whereas there is no debating who is right and who is Other in The Song of Roland.

As an aside, considering the Beowulf manuscript and how this text is the only known text of Beowulf, I thought about this episode of RadioLab that talks about the other versions of the Bible and other versions of the Trojan war. Listening to this story, it makes me wish archeologists could find other versions of Beowulf.

Beowulf, The Pagan & Christian

After reading the first section of “Beowulf,” I found that despite the fact that it seems to be written in a Christian context, the line between ‘Christian’ and ‘Pagan’ becomes blurred. One could even argue that Christianity and Paganism seem to be working almost simultaneously within Beowulf’s character, and I think that the main charcter, in encompassing such contrasting notions and religions, may evolve into what we’ve defined as the ‘other.’

On page sixty-two, Beowulf becomes associated with an animal figure, the boar, which can be seen simultaneously as a Pagan and a Christian symbol. Closely connected to the forest, the boar has the keen ability to uproot truffles, a mysterious fungus that ancient legends claim was produced by lightening; hence, the boar becomes closely associated with the supernatural. Yet, the boar is also symbolic of magic, prophecy, as well as warfare, and protection for warriors. In Christianity, the boar is symbolic for ferocious anger, for brutality, cruelty, as well as the ‘sins of the flesh.’ Beowulf, in wearing the symbol of the boar can be seen within a Pagan and Christian context; curiously he seems to exhibit a mixture of the characteristics assigned to the boar by Paganism and Christianity when fighting Grendel.

Beowulf possesses a super-human or supernatural strength. On page sixty-six Beowulf chooses not to use weapons in his fight against Grendel and asserts: “But with my grip I shall grapple with the fiend and fight for life, foe against foe.” During the fight, Beowulf exhibits superhuman strength by literally ripping one of Grendel’s arms out of his socket, which King Hrothgar exhibits for all to see. One could argue that Beowulf’s supernatural strength speaks to a Pagan element, and we also see this kind of unearthly strength or power on page seventy when Beowulf tells Unferth he spent five nights in the sea competing with Breca, only to be dragged down by a ‘mighty sea beast.’ Here, Beowulf is literally battling a ‘monster’ underneath the ocean, and his superhuman strength can not only be found in the physicality of the fight, but in the fact that the scene alludes to his unnatural ability to hold his breath under water, and control it for five days in the sea. In addition to this, he is able to fight in the sea with not only one ‘sea beast,’ but ‘nine maneaters,’ and this reinforces his supernatural strength that can be associated with the Pagan elements found in the story. Despite this, within the text, Beowulf’s supernatural strength becomes closely associated with the strength of the God; he also takes on the persona of Christ.

Beowulf and Grendel becomes representative of the Christian idea of ‘good versus evil’; they appear to be polar opposite, and one can argue that Beowulf exists figuratively as God or Christ, and in contrast, Grendel is the devil or Satan. On page fifty-six, Grendel becomes associated with ‘Cain’s race’; he can be seen as the man ‘falling from grace and into sin’ who is associated with Satan, the devil, and becomes known as ‘God’s adversary.’ In addition to this, he is described as an ‘unholy creature,’ as an ‘alien spirit,’ and lives in an underworld similar to Satan’s hell. In contrast, Beowulf can be seen as a Christ like figure not only because he possesses a ‘generous spirit (Page 61), and exhibits fairness (page 66), but because he literally ‘saves’ the Danes. In order to survive Grendel’s attacks, the Danes need a savior, and Beowulf, can be seen as a Christ like figure by the way he exhibits his desire to end their suffering, and ‘save’ them from Grendel. Moreover, if Beowulf is seen as encompassing this Christian idea of ‘good,’ when he defeats Grendel, he is carrying out God’s work. In other words, one could view Beowulf’s superhuman strength as coming from or facilitated by God so that he can carry out ‘God’s anger.’ Despite this, I think the image of Beowulf as a ‘savior,’ and as someone who exemplifies Christian ideas, becomes problematic when he ‘kills’ Grendel; it also becomes problematic if we take into consideration the materialism he exhibits, wanting treasures and acknowledgement for his deeds.

It will be interesting to see how Beowulf further exhibits the tension between Paganism and Christianity because I think it is in this contradiction where he may evolve in to the ‘other.’ He is already somewhat alienated from the rest of the characters, for he is both spiritually and politically elevated in comparison, but perhaps in the next sections the Pagan elements within his character, may give way to Christianity; this will determine a position that’s neither ‘monstrous’ or ‘other.’ I also wonder if his ‘savior’ qualities will become solely motivated by his materialism, and need for recognition; this may further complicate his character while pushing Beowulf into a realm that encompasses both the ‘monstrous’ and the ‘other.’

Winner Takes All

We've seen in discussion so far an interest in the duel that determines Ganelon's fate. It's not only the reader s who are interested. There are crowds at the duel, witnesses to God's decision on the truth of worldly matters. What's interesting to me about the duel is that this has a familiar ring outside of Christianity. I have heard stories of pagan myths, and I've been looking for a source but as yet have not found one, of circles in which two combatants are placed to fight in order to determine the truth of a crime. The one who wins is judged to have been right. In any case, the idea is not simply confined to Christianity. You see it mostly all cultures that have a religion with a higher power, and when one believes their higher power is better, well, that's the short of how wars start.

In fact, the duel between Pinabel and Thierry is not even the only place in which this "duel for the truth" occurs. Charlemagne carries on his own duel with the Emir during the final battle. They both fall to the ground and begin to duke it out, mano a mano, to see who has the right of it: "Nothing at all can ever end their strife/Till one confess he's wrong, the other right" (259). And really when they say "confess" they mean get skewered. So they're both fighting to determine who is correct in their choice of god, and the one to survive simply proves that they are correct. And of course in the story an angel helps him when he is being overwhelmed, God will not let the righteous one lose.

And so in the duel over Ganelon's treachery we can only expect a similar miracle of God's hand. But in this case it is no longer God's servant against a Pagan foe, which is a much easier call for the big man, but a simple dispute between Christians. I can't help but wonder if by bringing God down for the deliberation this duel hasn't forced him to say more than just who's right in their argument, but who is actually no longer Christian. I realize that we've talked about how Ganelon can not lose his status as a Christian, but I have to say I disagree. He doesn't fall as low a Pagan, but he becomes a fallen Christian really since God has decided against him. Even if God didn't have a hand in the duel, by royal decree the outcome strips Ganelon of his religion and of course that of his family. This is the opposite side of the Christians "converting" pagans into the faith. In the end its the men with power discerning the fate of other men.

The perhaps unintended agency of the Other remains

In the Middle Ages, prevalent theological thought asserted that women were the weaker spiritual being as evidenced by Eve's submission to temptation. Because of Eve's disobedience, God deemed her unworthy to decide her fate. Therefore, women's spiritual agency was revoked, and all of Eve's daughters had to experience God through men.

Bramimond, however, does not experience her religion through her husband nor does her husband, Marsilion, act as a guide to her spirituality. In Laisses 188-189, no one prompts Bramimond to condemn her gods. She sees her wounded and defeated husband and reacts without anyone else’s input. As Kinoshita notes, “Stepping into the place of her maimed husband, Bramimonde leads the type of revolt usually attributed to male Saracens who wreak punishment upon their gods…” (Kinoshita 93) However, Bramimond, according to Kinoshita loses her independent thought and agency by submitting to Christianity.

I’m not sure I agree. There is no doubt that Bramimond is defeated politically. "All her towers Queen Bramimond surrenders." (Roland 265) However, we cannot assume that her conversion is involuntary or that she is simply submitting to a male dominated world in which she must keep her silence. The conversion, while sanctioned by Charlemagne, is not under his direct guidance. As far as the reader is concerned, there is no evidence that Bramimond suddenly loses her ability to form her own opinion. Bramimond listens to the sermons and parables and converts of her own free will, just as she condemns her pagan gods without instruction from anyone else. To say that Bramimond's conversion is involuntary is to revoke the agency that she has when she condemns her pagan religion as useless.

Bramimond does not convert simply to marry a Christian man and have him dictate her spiritual understanding. Kinoshita states that the stock Saracen princess character converts to Christianity for the love of a Frankish knight. However, Kinoshita ups the stakes and says "Bramimonde demystifies the function of the Saracen princess: to abandon religion, family, and culture to embrace Frankish Christianity." (Kinoshita 92) According to the poet, though, Bramimond's country is conquered by Charlemagne. Her husband, who is her only mentioned family, is dead, and on her own, she rejects her religion. Everything that isn't forcefully taken from Bramimond, she rejects of her own free will, which leaves her without a husband or a lover to dictate her religious leanings.

More significantly, she is baptized and renamed by women. Technically, she isn’t submitting to Charlemagne and his imposing Christian empire but to women of the Christian faith. While I’m not arguing that Bramimond is swept away into a feminist religious utopia, her submission is not to the male/military power structure present throughout the rest of the poem. Women legitimize her conversion. The fact that she is renamed by women doesn’t prove her continued agency, but the involvement of women in her conversion show that she continues to experience religion without the contribution of men.

Bramimond’s Questionable Conversion

In “’Pagans are wrong and Christians are right’: Alterity, Gender, and Nation in the Chanson de Roland,” Sharon Kinoshita asserts that Bramimond, the ‘Saracen’ or ‘Pagan’ Queen, is given the opportunity to ‘actively embrace Charlemagne’s God.’ After examining Lais two-hundred-sixty-six, Kinoshita writes: “ No trace of the carnal or profane compromises Charlemagne’s desire to convert Bramimond…’love’ signals not the romantic desire but the voluntary nature of her conversion.” Despite her convincing arguments, I did find this particular assertion a little problematic.

The degree to which Bramimond willingly embraces Charlemagne’s God or that the ‘nature of her conversion’ may be voluntary is questionable in light of several factors. The line on page one-hundred-ninety, Lais two-hundred-sixty-five, states, “All of her towers Queen Bramimond surrenders,” and I think this speaks to both her figurative and literal captivity at the end of the story, for she is the only allowed to live among the Christians, and like Marcile who proclaims, “Myself I’ve lost, my people, and my kin,” she in a sense has lost her culture, religion, protection, and quite literally her own ‘world.’ Bramimond is an isolated character, for she’s one of two women that are featured in the story, and in the end, despite the factors that suggests her ‘conversion,’ she is the only ‘Pagan’ left; this not only directly influences the ‘nature of her conversion,’ but facilitates it as well. Although the ‘tower’ is a phallic symbol, it is also closely associated with the feminine principle or a certain feminine power; when Bramimonde surrenders her towers, she is quite literally defeated, and the tower becomes symbolic not only of her submission, her descent or downfall, but the end of ‘Paganism.’ In addition to this, Bramimond’s surrender is the last act in the story that solidifies ‘Christian’ dominance, for “the Paynims are all dead or fled in terror.’ She is singled out and abandoned by the last of the Paynims, to such a degree one may even argue Bramimonde exists figuratively as an orphan, and has no other choice then to assimilate to the ‘French’ or ‘Christian’ culture and religion; the alienation she experiences at the end bears some influence on the ‘nature of her conversion.’ Moreover, by ‘surrendering her towers,’ she is relinquishing the power or authority she exhibits on page one-hundred-fifty-one and one-hundred-fifty-five; this speaks to how she is literally at Charlemagne’s mercy and under his rule, further debilitating her willingness to reject the Christian God. Carlon’s ‘love’ may speak to Bramimond’s ‘voluntary conversion,’ but attached to it is his authority. One must have in mind Carlon’s words, “Never to Paynims may I show love or peace, Do though confess the faith of God revealed,” that figuratively implies Paynim’s can choose Christianity or death - this still applies to Bramimond at the end who we still find ‘captive.’

In light of these arguments, the ‘nature of Bramimond’s conversion’ may not be ‘voluntary,’ given the circumstances she finds herself in at the end of, “The Song of Roland.” We do not know enough at the end of the story in order to be certain of Bramimond’s ‘true’ conversion. Although she rejects her gods in Lais one-hundred-ninety-five, she asks, “Why is there none to slay me?” The statement expresses Bramimond’s feelings of abandonment, disillusionment, anger, and desperation; in the same instance, it figuratively invokes her position at the end, one that relies on Charlemagne’s mercy, authority - on the questionable ‘love’ that promises and dictates the Queen’s religious conversion.

The Cross and the Crescent

In class we discussed how similar the two sides were in this story. The Saracen's were as strong, beautiful and valiant as the Christians, but the simply weren't Christian and such was the difference. After reading Roland, I enjoyed going back and reading about the historic battle from which this story sprung. The fact that it was a small guerrilla band of Basques, who were indigenous to Spain conquered by Charlemagne, makes Roland an astonishing change to history. The two sides were both Christian and the ambush was carried out by an inferior force during nighttime, which melted away following the attack. Hardly the story's force of 400,000 Saracens. In fact, these forces were different in all aspects except their religion.

So why would the story be twisted so heavily? Roland was written in the middle of the 12th century directly between crusades, and the enemy of course at the time was the Saracens. It becomes an obvious choice for the enemy of the story to be Roland. The story looks a lot like propaganda at this point, and what is the greatest strength of propaganda but to other the enemy and create him monstrous?

The acts of both sides are violent. But we actually see more violence from the Christians. Charlemagne smiles as his catapults tear down towers of a city. Roland desires to dye his sword "red high as the hilt with gore" (83). The Archbishop Turpin himself lays about with his crook and "flings him dead wherever he finds room" (114). The difference between this and the violence by the Paynims is that it all is done in the name of the right and honorable. Every attack by the Paymins is underhanded. The entire battle is based on treachery, and even the individual violent acts such as the death of Oliver has to be treacherous. The incident appears almost cowardly as Marganice "from behind deals Oliver a blow"(145). It seems as if no one could best a Christian in an honorable way. On the other hand the Christian might is blessed and virtuous never to be described as cowardly.

Neither side is normal in this fight. Both are are othered. The Paymins are obviously othered by Christian religion and by treachery making them the extreme villains of this story. The Franks are also elevated in this story by their death. By being absolved of all sin before death and facing it in such a heroic way, they become martyrs elevated above all others and on a direct path to heaven. In the exact opposite direction fly the Paymins as they sail to hell. They fight on the same field and yet the difference in treatment becomes too great to overwhelm. By othering both sides the author forces the reader to focus on the difference between them and in essence choose either "right" or "wrong".

It would have been interesting to see how this would have been written by a "Paymin" instead of the Christian author. In my opinion, though, it would simply have been a reverse of where the dead spiritually ended up and how the violent acts were described.

An Imposing Culture

In Orientalism, Edward Said asserts “One ought never to assume that the structure of Orientalism is nothing more than a structure of lies or of myths which, were the truth about them to be told, would simply blow away.” (Norton 1995) His sentiment resonates with the complex and interwoven nature of West/East colonialism, but the nature of difference in The Song of Roland is far flimsier. The author constructs the political relationship between the Franks and the Spanish without a language barrier and without misunderstand of the hierarchical structure of vassalage and lordship. The pagan knights are considered equally valiant, and they would easily be integrated into the Frankish political ranks, if only their professed religion were Christianity.

The cultural oversimplifications indicate that while there is clear demarcation of the pagan Other from the Christian, it is an insubstantial barrier to cross. It merely requires a confessional change. It’s significant that the French/Westerners see no insurmountable cultural difference. Their only concern is that the pagans profess their devotion to Christianity. In a sense, the cultural, racial, and geographical differences their opponents present are an illusion, and that the truth of Christianity will eliminate the interrelated structures of difference.

Despite the fact in reality there were major cultural and language barriers between the pagan world (as in the non-Christian world) and the Christian world, the fact that those differences are not highlighted more starkly indicate two assumptions the poets makes throughout The Song of Roland: 1.) The cultural differences are irrelevant or 2.) The difference between Frankish and Spanish will dissipate as soon as the two cultures are joined by a common religion.

While Said is correct in urging his readers not to try to find the lies that hold up the structure of Orient v. Occident, the author of Roland believed the magic bullet for toppling the structure was religion. The desire to overcome such vast cultural differences with religion is representative of the Frankish need for hegemony. The fact that the poet imposes the structures of Frankish society onto a dramatically different culture confirms Said’s notion that “There is in addition the hegemony of European ideas about the Orient, themselves reiterating European superiority over Oriental backwardness, usually overriding the possibility that a more independent, or more skeptical, thinker might have had different views on the matter.” (Norton 1996) For me, the simplistic construction of the Other in Roland indicates the complex nature of political difference.

(As an aside, I wasn't quite sure how to format a footnote in a blog. Since I don't have a works cited page, I'm quoting an excerpt of Said's Orientalism from The Norton Anthology of Theory and Criticism. Ed. Vincent B. Leitch. New York: W.W Norton and Company, 2001.)

Why Can't Ganeleon Be the Other

One of the more interesting threads that class picked up was about exactly how permeable the boundary between Christians and Pagans is. The pagans can, of course, convert and become Christian but up until this point we do not see "Ganelon that wrought the treachery" slip through the border in the other direction.

Narratively, no matter what the second half brings, Ganelon can never and will never be thought of as a pagan. If he was to do so, the entire structure of The Song of Roland would fall to pieces. The Song, at it's very core, is a narrative of difference and while the Pagans(Them) could be consumed by the Christians (Us), the reverse will never be true because then we'd have a narrative based on positive relation and not negative relation.

Jonathan Goldberg, discussing Bowers v. Hardwick in the introduction to Sodometries (sadly not available online, but if anyone wants to read it, I can easily make copies), says that "homosexuals and heterosexuals are so immutably different that their acts could never be the same - even when they are" (11). This seems most evident in laises 67-79, when the Paynim's are being introduced one by one. Margaris of Seville, described as "so beautiful is he, she that beholds him has a smile on her lips...And there's no Paynim his match for chivalry" (89), reads very much like a description one would expecting to read in reference to the French hordes. While there is slight undercutting by mentioning that no Paynim is his match - obviously the lowest of the Christians would outshine him, his beauty is still presented as favorably as, say, Oliver's wit.

On the other hand, Estorgan and Estramarin are "foul felons both and knavish traitors" who seel to assail Roland(88). The exact words used to describe Ganelon are used to describe these particular Paynims. That should make them at least structurally similar characters yet Ganelon never loses his status and becomes a Paynim. He can't. His acts will never be the same - even when they are.

The only driving distinction between Ganelon and the Pagans is simply a negative relation. This negative relation between Us/Them is in name only, however, that does mean it's also a false relation. Margaris will never be Oliver because without him would have no way to construct Oliver. Ganelon will never be pagan because such a transition would show the flimsy relation of the boundary the entire poem is based on. The road into Us is one way only and, more importantly, must be one way only.

I Have to Keep Reminding Myself that They're Monsters

While l0oking over some of the medievalist blogs linked to this one, I came across a classroom anecdote relevant to this course, and particularly relevant, I think, to The Song of Roland. Briefly, in a discussion of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, a student remarked about the Green Knight, "I have to keep reminding myself he's a monster," which (apparently) prompted further discussion off of the question, "What happens when something occupies the place where a monster should go but isn't in fact that monstrous?"

I think this connects to Roland insofar as in this text, the "Paynims" occupy the place where a monster should go but aren't, to some extent, that "monstrous," that is, that unfamiliar and profoundly differentiated. I, for one, often had to remind myself that they are meant to be effectively monsters; what is more, the poet also has to periodically remind himself of this fact.

Another way of possibly getting at this is via Beowulf (sorry to be continually getting ahead of our reading list in this post...). In that poem, Beowulf, and the Geats and Danes generally, confront two classes of enemies: supernatural opponents like Grendel, his mother, and the dragon, who are very definitely monstrous and almost otherworldly, and merely human opponents, rival tribes like the Swedes or the Heathobards, who part of the same culture and society.

Roland telescopes these two classes of "other" into one. Obviously, the Saracens take on a monstrous role: they are the postulated enemies of God, diametrically opposed to the Christian French in that sense. The poet attributes to them an extravagantly demonic religion that periodically acquires associations of Satanism and dark sorcery. Some of their champions get explicitly labeled as evil, followers of sin and vice as an apparent moral imperative: "Then first rides out a Saracen, Abisme..../ Better he loves murder and treachery / Than all the gold that is in Galicie" (108). From time to time, something like a racial differentiation appears; Abisme is "black...as melted pitch," and the "accursed tribesmen" from "Ethiope, a land accursed and vile" who swarm up against the last French survivors are likewise "Negro tribes," "black as ink from head to foot" (125). In such instances, the poem marks its oppositional figures as a different order of humanity, if not almost entirely inhuman.

And yet, while being in certain instances so profoundly "othered," the Paynims simultaneously participate in the same social context as the French. If in some ways they are more weird and demonic than real 11th-century Muslims would have been, in other ways they are far closer to the French and have more in common with them. They share the same feudal codes and institutions, the same tactics, weaponry, and conventions of battle, and many of the same standards of behavior. For every near-monstrous Saracen peer, there is at least another who is "a good knight and gallant" (114). More than once, the poet has to near-audibly stifle his explicit admiration and avowal of kinship with these Paynim foes and remind himself that they are "monsters": "Were he but Christian, right knightly he'd appear" (87), or, as the poet says of Baligant, Charlemagne's double as the leader and exemplar of the entire Saracen world, "Were he but Christian, God! what a warrior" (172).

I think it's safe to say, then, that this dynamic of mingled "othering" and commonality with the "Paynims" problematizes Roland considerably, or (a better way to put it) makes it a lot more interesting. In reading about the Crusades, for example, I have come across the idea that the Franks persistently made Islam out to be such a bizarre, polytheistic demonic mishmash (even after they had been living in the Middle East for some time and could no longer plead ignorance in the way that the poet of Roland presumably could) in order to outwardly project their own awareness of some of the polytheistic aspects of Christianity as they practiced it- the Trinity, the cult of the saints, and so forth. (On that note, it's interesting, as Dorothy Sayers points out in her introduction, that Roland depicts a rather austere Christianity in which the saints or the Virgin are relatively downplayed and characters, even layman like Roland, speak to God directly, without mediation or intercession.) We "other" or project outwards aspects of ourselves with which we are uneasy or cannot come to terms. The question I want to ask, then, is whether (in what ways, or in what degree) the Paynims in Roland act as a mirror to 11th-century French society , embodying both the aspects of that society that its members wished to celebrate and those that they wanted to deny or obscure?

A Short Post: Begging a Comment on Christianity

What was it that struck me most about The Song of Roland? There were so many possibilities to examine within this story, but there was one which I could not move beyond. The story is of war, of conquest, of kings and caliphs and knights, but most of all, it is about change. The primary change which Charlemagne hoped to accomplish was victory and the acquiring of lands, but in order to do this, the newly acquired lands must be unified. What better way to merge two cultures than through faith?

The Saracens are Moslem and the men of Charlemagne are Christian. There are factions within the Saracens, some supporting Charlemagne to gain his aid in battling their enemies, others battling them all and hoping to maintain their faith. We discover this conflict in belief right away with the lines, “Marsilion holds it, the king who hates God’s name, / Mahound he serves, and to Apollyon prays” (P.51). This beginning of the story instantly sets up who is the “other,” and this determination is based upon a discord and misunderstanding of the faiths. For the Christians, it would be easier to fight a bloody battle against pagans, those who worship gods as opposed to God. Polytheism is not an accurate depiction of the Moslem religion, however, as they too believe in one god, Allah, not many gods, and certainly not the Greco-Roman antique, Apollo/ Apollyon. But it is easier for Christians to understand the differences by creating such a great divide, and by making the Saracens given to the worship of old gods, it alienates them from Charlemagne and his people. Besides, war is not the time for people to reach understandings and learn more about their cultures, rather after the conquest is when the sharing of knowledge is accomplished (I can only imagine what bloodshed could be spared if this was done in reverse order).

In order to reach an agreement with Charlemagne, Marsile agrees to convert to Christianity. He says, “On my behalf King Charlemayn beseech, / for his God’s sake to show me clemency…the law of Christ I’ll then and there receive, / in faith and love I will his liegeman be” (P. 54). When Cordova is conquered, a new order takes place, and “in all the city no paynim now appears / who is not slain or turned to Christian fear” (P. 54). The conquest of Cordoba is accomplished by warfare, but in a secondary sense, by religion. It is faith that helps the supporters of Charlemagne win their battles and determine who are allied with them. These beliefs are then adopted by those who have been conquered. In short, those who accept the God of Charlemagne are rewarded with land, victory, and the grace of Christianity. Religion creates connections where diplomacy fails, thus determining who is for and who is against whom, and in those political allegiances, who is a true believer and who is conquered and made into one.