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A review by trin
The Song of Roland by Unknown
1.0
"Pagans are wrong: Christians are right indeed."
Wow, thanks for that stunning piece of religious thinking, Roland!
If you like sophisticated metaphysical analysis such as that, as well as lavish descriptions of bowels and brains spilling out onto the ground, then boy howdy, is this the book for you! Man. Okay, some works are classics because they're really amazingly good—beautifully written, incisive, profound. Others are classics because they're super old. The Song of Roland, the oldest surviving piece of French literature, is definitely the latter and solely the latter. It is so bad. So bad it's at times deeply hilarious: the MST3K crew would have a field day with this thing. I'm almost tempted to rent the 1978 French film to see if it can attain the same level of ridiculousness, but Klaus Kinski and Co. probably actually tried to make it good. Mistake!
The basic plot of The Song of Roland is this: the Franks are fighting "the Pagans"—a motley crew whom the author(s) seems to think worship both Muhammad and Apollo. Accuracy! Anyway, Charlemagne—whose luxurious white beard is discussed to the point where one begins to fear that the author(s) wants to do something seriously inappropriate to it—leaves his nephew to guard a parcel of land in Spain that those pesky pagans have faux-surrendered. The pagans then attack Roland and his vastly outnumbered group of men. Roland refuses to blow his horn to call for reinforcements. Then a bunch of his dudes are beheaded and Roland's BFF Oliver is all, "Hey, maybe calling for those reinforcements would be a GOOD IDEA?" So Roland blows his horn. Of course, it's too late. We are told in detail how he and what feels like every other man in his army dies. Many of their deaths, such as Oliver's, cause Roland to swoon and pause the battle several pages in order to mourn, tear at his hair, etc.
When all of the Franks are dead, Charlemagne shows up and finds the body of his nephew. Up until this point, I thought Roland was a pretty good swooner. But it turns out he's no match for Charlemagne. When Charley swoons, "Five score thousand Franks swooned on the earth and fell." That is some champion swooning. No wonder he's king.
The rest of the book follows Charlemagne as he proves to the pagans that you wouldn't like him when he's angry. Then, in the last lines of the book, he rends his beard and sobs. Medieval French knights apparently cry more than Project Runway contestants. Who knew?
I almost gave this book a second star because it amused me so much. But no: it's total shit. Racist, intolerant, repetitive, and melodramatic enough to deserve its own Lifetime Original Movie. Uncle, May I Joust With Danger?: The Baron Roland Story. If another eleven-odd centuries pass and we somehow manage to lose this one, I won't be all that sorry.
Wow, thanks for that stunning piece of religious thinking, Roland!
If you like sophisticated metaphysical analysis such as that, as well as lavish descriptions of bowels and brains spilling out onto the ground, then boy howdy, is this the book for you! Man. Okay, some works are classics because they're really amazingly good—beautifully written, incisive, profound. Others are classics because they're super old. The Song of Roland, the oldest surviving piece of French literature, is definitely the latter and solely the latter. It is so bad. So bad it's at times deeply hilarious: the MST3K crew would have a field day with this thing. I'm almost tempted to rent the 1978 French film to see if it can attain the same level of ridiculousness, but Klaus Kinski and Co. probably actually tried to make it good. Mistake!
The basic plot of The Song of Roland is this: the Franks are fighting "the Pagans"—a motley crew whom the author(s) seems to think worship both Muhammad and Apollo. Accuracy! Anyway, Charlemagne—whose luxurious white beard is discussed to the point where one begins to fear that the author(s) wants to do something seriously inappropriate to it—leaves his nephew to guard a parcel of land in Spain that those pesky pagans have faux-surrendered. The pagans then attack Roland and his vastly outnumbered group of men. Roland refuses to blow his horn to call for reinforcements. Then a bunch of his dudes are beheaded and Roland's BFF Oliver is all, "Hey, maybe calling for those reinforcements would be a GOOD IDEA?" So Roland blows his horn. Of course, it's too late. We are told in detail how he and what feels like every other man in his army dies. Many of their deaths, such as Oliver's, cause Roland to swoon and pause the battle several pages in order to mourn, tear at his hair, etc.
When all of the Franks are dead, Charlemagne shows up and finds the body of his nephew. Up until this point, I thought Roland was a pretty good swooner. But it turns out he's no match for Charlemagne. When Charley swoons, "Five score thousand Franks swooned on the earth and fell." That is some champion swooning. No wonder he's king.
The rest of the book follows Charlemagne as he proves to the pagans that you wouldn't like him when he's angry. Then, in the last lines of the book, he rends his beard and sobs. Medieval French knights apparently cry more than Project Runway contestants. Who knew?
I almost gave this book a second star because it amused me so much. But no: it's total shit. Racist, intolerant, repetitive, and melodramatic enough to deserve its own Lifetime Original Movie. Uncle, May I Joust With Danger?: The Baron Roland Story. If another eleven-odd centuries pass and we somehow manage to lose this one, I won't be all that sorry.