Tuesday, December 27, 2011

"The Song of the Cid": Book Review


translated by Burton Raffel, with introduction and notes by María Rosa Menocal
A writing project for History 116 -Western Civilization I, Fall 2011.





The author of Cantar de Mio Cid is unknown, and most scholars now believe that it was originally performed in the tradition of the heroic saga. This epic is considered Spain’s earliest surviving piece of classic literature, originating sometime during the life of El Cid in the eleventh century; its earliest known transcription in 1207 was signed by Per Abbat and is kept in the Biblioteca Nacional de España in Madrid. All but two folios of the original text survive.

This newest edition of El Cid from the Penguin publishing house is edited by eminent linguistic scholar Burton Raffel, who referenced a modern transcription of the original Abbat text for this work. Raffel is an accomplished translator in several languages and his efforts include Beowulf, Nibelungenlied, Dante’s Commedia and Cervantes’ Don Quijote. His published work includes pieces from Old and Middle English, Viêtnamese, Latin, Middle German, medieval French and Italian, and contemporary Russian, along with numerous volumes of his own poetry, historical works and fiction. He has taught at several universities including Yale and the University of Louisiana, along with institutes in Israel and Indonesia.

Raffel’s purpose in penning a new translation of this Spanish epic when many other versions are available seems to be his passion for literature, and a desire to reintroduce older texts to new generations in a format that is both true to the spirit and form of the original, while remaining sensitive to the vernacular of the audience. When comparing his translation to Markley’s The Epic of the Cid or Rose and Bacon’s The Lay of the Cid one finds an enjoyable balance between the former’s matter-of-fact recount of the saga and the latter’s rigid rhyming verse. This epic is loosely based on the exploits of Rodrigo Díaz de Vivar, acclaimed Castilian military leader of the eleventh century.

After initially reading the story I had more questions than answers. Why was the first section missing? Why were there occasional obliterated lines within the cantors? Why were the people that the Cid’s armies conquered happy to pay him tribute? Why did this charismatic character scheme to swindle Jewish merchants and Church leaders alike, when he was the good guy of the story? Why had he been banished in the first place, when the text clearly described him as a loyal and valuable military leader?

A little backstory on our hero: Díaz was a minor Spanish aristocrat by descent and marriage, having royal relations through his mother’s line, while his wife was cousin to the king. The men on his father’s side found work drafting documents at court, at a time of transition from the rule of Ferdinand I to his heirs who were pledged to rule the land jointly. El Cid proved himself at a young age fighting under the banner of the eldest son Sancho II during the skirmishes among the feuding territories of the Iberian Peninsula. The Spanish lands of the north were also at odds with the Muslim kingdoms of Andalusia, while the Almoravids from the Magreb states of North Africa constantly threatened from the south. Many of the Moorish colonies were taifas, Islamic fiefdoms in Iberia that paid tribute to the Spaniard rulers in exchange for protection from the Almoravids; often, these same cities paid the Almoravids for protection against the Castilians, depending on which party was raiding more offensively at the time.

Much like the Frankish Emperor Charlemagne centuries earlier, Ferdinand I, the first emperor of Spain, divided his lands among his heirs, giving his eldest son Sancho II Castile, the easternmost territory; Alfonso VI received León; and Garcia II, the youngest, was given Galicia, the territory to the west, in what is now mostly Portugal. Soon after Ferdinand’s death, the sons broke truce in a continuation of their struggle for dominance over the territories. Sancho and Alfonso joined together to eliminate Garcia, and soon after, Sancho was assassinated; many speculated that this was orchestrated by King Alfonso and their sister Urraca. Unchallenged, Alfonso ascended the throne of the three territories, and by extension became the master of the corresponding tribute taifas, proclaiming himself emperor of all Spain.

It is here that our story begins, with Mio Cid weeping openly as he leads a small band of faithful warriors into exile. For reasons unsaid, his master King Alfonso VI of Castile and León has given him nine days to vacate the land that he had fought so well to protect. It is possible that in the original version the cause for his banishment was made clear in the missing first folio; it could have been lost for any number of reasons, including the possibility that it was too incriminating or embarrassing to the descendants of some important people. Since the original inscription was written by Per Abbat in 1207, little more than 100 years after Díaz’ death, the story may well have been too fresh in the minds of some. In fact, it wasn’t until searching for answers elsewhere that I found where El Cid’s original allegiances had been.

Although the Cid is anguished by his exile, he never speaks ill of his lord, only striving to earn his good favor by conquering Christian and Moorish towns alike, always sending tribute back to the emperor. The saga, presented in three cantos, documents his conquests of state, his efforts to win the favor of Alfonso, his exploits with his most faithful companions and his righteous vengeance at the mistreatment of his daughters by his enemies at court. It illustrates heroic qualities in the Campeador: he is a widely admired leader who earns the respect of aristocrats and peasants, his men and foes alike; the citizens of the taifas rejoice at his liberation of their cities; he is a loving and faithful family man to his beautiful wife and chaste daughters, and even his cunning money-making schemes were born of necessity and portrayed with a positive spin. He is a righteous self-made man. When his enemies at court plot to relieve him of his most-beloved treasures – his daughters and their hefty dowries – his honor is vindicated in a jousting match, and his detractors are chastised.

While the tale is presented within this framework of action and intrigue, it is more about the internal struggles and private agonies of a man who questions his choices and worries about his loved ones than it is about his exploits in battle. This story is a tribute to the trials of Al Sayyid more than to the Champion of Sancho who is betrayed by jealous courtiers and exiled by the scheming fratricidal king, Alfonso VI. Although El Cid is punished beyond the endurance of any man, he never speaks ill of his King, even when Alfonso insists that he marry his daughters to men that the Cid finds deficient in character and social standing. Part of the beauty of the Song of the Cid is that it is a tale of humility, sacrifice, self-doubt and servitude. It may also be a careful criticism of the contemporary ruling party. On the surface, El Cid is a voiceless long-suffering servant, but the subtext tells a different tale. King Alfonso’s actions prove him to be an obvious poor judge of character; he has more prestige than honor, more might than brains. Although it is not openly stated in the text, by his actions, El Cid distinguishes himself as a man more noble than the King, and this is quietly recognized by more than a few of the characters in the story.

The fact that parts of the text appear to be intentionally destroyed is at the very least intriguing. The National Library’s images of the text show the deliberate striking of sections, where partial and entire lines are completely blacked out with ink. However, other sections are shown where the scribe had inserted words after the fact, along with other minor corrections; this infers that he would not necessarily completely ink out lines that were miswritten. So why were these lines blocked out? What did they say, or more importantly, who edited them? Could it be the same parties who caused whole sections to disappear? This is only speculation, of course, but it is hard not to wonder about this, when the carefully neutral nature of the main characters of the story is also taken into account. In the story, no one is explicitly implicated in a plot to kill Sancho II, and Díaz only strives to prove himself worthy of his king’s favor. Since this was likely a popular tale told often across the territories, it would have been wise for the performer not to imply any blame towards the current administration; rather, a bard interested in self-preservation would praise the hero’s humble service to his master, emphasizing the superficial trials of the hero, while inferring his true nobility through the subtext.

Raffel presents the epic in the cantare style in which the original Abbat text was written. He demonstrates confident grace in his use of assonant rhyme, where the vowels within a single line are repeated much like alliteration, and in his mastery of the language paired with judicial use of meter and finial rhymes. However, he doesn’t limit himself like Rose and Bacon, who are restricted by their dedication to the form. Although their skill at rigid nineteenth-century style meter and rhyme is remarkable, the connotations and flavor of the work are surely compromised by this application. With Raffel’s sensitive treatment of the cantors, the reader can assume that the voice and subtle intent of the original has not been compromised by unnecessary structures of rhyming meter.

Still, Raffel does not shy away from using the laisses similaires form in his translation. Often seen in heroic sagas of the era, this form employs heavy repetition of signature phrases, a style normally associated with oral tradition. The reader never loses sight that this is a song. Lines referring to the hero as My Cid, one who was “born at a lucky hour”, “knighted at just the right time” and “born at a fortunate hour” among numerous such descriptions, not only infer that Díaz had good fortune, but tell the reader that they are hearing a song, sung by a firsthand witness of the events (Raffel 2009: 32, 66, 68). Much like the chorus of a modern song that repeats a catchy hook, these taglines help show that this story was meant to be performed, and Raffel uses the form well.

In order to prepare the reader with some useful background, Menocal expertly connects important events and relates the make up of the geopolitical climate leading up to the story in her introduction to The Song of the Cid, and her input is presented separately from Raffel’s translation. This is preferable to Markley’s version, which fills in the blanks of the missing preamble by consulting historical accounts. Although this is helpful in setting the stage for the first cantor, his distillation of the facts leads directly into his translation, which is written in straight paragraph form rather than stanzas; it is unclear where Markley’s words end and the saga begins. Although the balance of his translation gives the reader extensive information and back-story to flesh out the tale, this bounty of facts actually serves to suck the beauty right out of the story; it becomes a historically-based reference to the saga, rather than an expression of the saga itself.

Raffel used Colin Smith’s contemporary Spanish transcription of the original text as his reference, and this is included in the book alongside his translation so that when it is open, the reader can see the page with Raffel’s words on one side and the corresponding Spanish text on the other. When Smith’s reference is compared with the Abbat text, aside from a few alphabetical variances, such as using y for i, or rr for r, it is a word for word transcription. This clearly shows an interest on the part of Raffel towards maintaining accuracy and integrity. In addition, he indicates when parts of the original folio are missing, and notes where lines of the original text have been rendered illegible or are obliterated.

Before reading this book, I confess that I couldn’t distinguish between the Man from La Mancha and the Cid from Vivar. Reading The Song of the Cid was a great gateway to understanding more of the geopolitical happenings of the Iberian Peninsula during La Reconquista. This classic was surprisingly enjoyable to read and thought provoking; while I didn’t appreciate the subtext while reading it, I was induced to discover more afterward in order to interpret the story. I would definitely recommend Raffel’s version of this epic to anyone who is interested in historically based tales, appreciates the gentle hand of a competent translator or admires the subtle beauty of alliteration and assonance. Epic verse can be a window into how an earlier culture viewed itself, how it wanted others to view it, and how it wanted its stories to be told; Raffel’s translation of The Song of the Cid succeeds in facilitating all three.


Works Cited:

Per Abbat. (1207) Transcriber, Poema de Mio Cid, web eBook. Fundación Biblioteca Virtual Miguel de Cervantes.
http://www.cervantesvirtual.com/obra-visor /cantar-de-mio-cid-manuscrito-el-manuscrito-de-per-abbat--0/html/

Díaz de Vivar, Rodrigo, general information, web. Who 2 Biographies.
http://www.who2.com/bio/el-cid
Markley, J. Gerald. (1961) Translator, The Epic of the Cid, print.  
The Bobbs-Merrill co., inc. Indianapolis, and New York

Menocal, María Rosa. (2009) Author, introduction to The Song of the Cid, eBook.
Nelson, Lynn Harry. Author, Rodrigo Díaz de Bivar, El Cid, web.
Pidal, Ramón Menéndez. (1954) Author, Cantar de Mio Cid: Texto, Gramática, y Vocabulario, 3rd
edition, eBook. Espasa Calpe, Madrid

Raffel, Burton. (2009) Translator, The Song of the Cid: a dual-language edition with parallel text,
eBook. Penguin Group USA Inc., Penguin Books Ltd.         
 ---. Biographical information, web.  
http://english.louisiana.edu/fac-and-staff/emeritus/raffel.shtml
http://www.penguin.ca/nf/Author/AuthorPage/0,,0_1000026448,00.html

Rose, R. Selden and Bacon, Leonard. (1919) Translators, The Lay of the Cid, eBook. University of
California Press, Berkeley California, Semicentennial Publications

Smith, Colin. (1985) Editor, Poema de Mio Cid, 2nd edition, eBook.Cambridge University Press.



Notes
Cantor - the cantors are the three sections of this epic; the term comes from the Latin cantare, meaning “singing”.

El Cid - Al Sayyid is Arabic for The Lord or Master, and is the probable linguistic source for the title El Cid. This indicates that Díaz was recognized as a formidable military leader by Christian and Moor alike.

The division of Ferdinand I’s estate - Ferdinand I’s two daughters Elvira and Urraca were not gifted with territories like their brothers, but with cities; these also included taifa tribute districts.

Laisse Similaires - In an alternate title for the epic, The Lay of the Cid, lay derives from laisse, the term for this format used in epic medieval French verse.




2 comments:

  1. Extremely well written and informative. Very enjoyable!

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  2. Thanks very much for this review. I've been digging around for info on various translations of the poem, and as always, it's very hard to find a scholarly account that looks at the quality of the translation that isn't hidden behind a paywall.

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