The Song of my Cid, a Medieval Spanish Epic

El Cantar de mio Cid, variously translated as The Song of my Cid, The Poem of the Cid, or most recently as The Epic of the Cid, is a medieval epic that tells the story of the Spanish national hero Rodrigo Diaz de Vivar, AKA El Cid, known as the Campeador. During the Middle Ages, when Spain was divided between various bickering Christian and Moorish-Islamic kingdoms, the 11^th Century historic figure of El Cid (the lord) rose to prominence and became the subject of legend, serving as the champion of the kings of Castille, then of the Islamic ruler of Zaragoza, and then finally took over the city of Valencia for himself. Perhaps you can think of him as the Spanish Robin Hood, a hero of the people with a little bit of a crusader thrown in for good measure, a man who achieves remarkable feats and who rubs shoulders with kings and generals – although unlike Robin Hood, who is a mere outlaw and woodsman, El Cid has elements of both general and king in his make-up. He is essentially the perfect warrior and the most loyal of vassals, who serves his rightful masters even when they turn their backs on him.

          This little medieval epic tells the story of the Cid’s exile from Castile, his capture of the city of Valencia, and the mistreatment of his daughters by a couple of scummy sons-in-law. It finishes with the dramatic court-room scene and trial-by-combat between the Cid’s men and the offending scumbags, so everything turns out well in the end. There are poetic scenes of battle, the Cid wins himself a cool new sword, and generally it’s all very epic, what with El Cid fighting and winning in all things, and brandishing his awesome beard. Unlike the Homeric epics, El Cantar de mio Cid is shorter and leaner, more akin to the Song of Roland than anything Classical. It is structured into three ‘books’; the Exile (Cantar del Destierro), the Marriage/Wedding (Cantar de las bodas de las fijas del Cid), and the Outrage/Shame at Corpes (Cantar de la Afrenta de Corpes), each over a thousand lines long, bringing the total length of the epic to 3730 lines. The first book deals with the Cid’s banishment from the lands of King Alfonso and his adventures as a wandering warlord, the second tells of his capture of Valencia, his reconciliation with Alfonso and the marriage of his two daughters to the princes/scions/infantes of Carrión, and the third tells the story of how these same infantes of Carrión, taking umbrage to the upstart Cid, abuse and abandon his daughters – provoking our hero to seek retribution under the auspices of King Alfonso.

          As is the case with old texts, the edition you choose will have a much greater effect on how you experience the story than most other factors. I myself had access to a fairly recent modern English translation in prose, which included a nice chunk of other historical writings in the appendices – ostensibly to help provide some more historical and cultural detail on El Cid. The edition I had was fairly clear, easy to read, and relatively enjoyable, while some of the appendices proved interesting to digest afterwards. Other editions I can’t really vouch for, so it is largely up to you which one you choose. The Michael Harney edition I experienced was fairly easy to grasp, clearly laid out and clear to read and understand, though of course I have no idea of what may have been sacrificed in the translation. Just like every translated text, each editor will bring something different to the table, and so it is almost impossible to make any generalisations without having experienced a sizeable number of them. Just see what is available to you, and make a gut-reaction choice. Most basically, do you want verse or prose? Both can be found.

          One of the most famous and interesting stories of El Cid is sadly absent from this poem. According to legend, the Cid Rodrigo Diaz died in Valencia during a siege from the Moors, leaving the defenders without their heroic leader. But in a feat of genius, the Cid’s wife Jimena had his body stuffed and mounted on his horse, sword held aloft, so that it would appear that the Cid was still alive; the people of Valencia were able to rally and repel the attackers thanks to this brilliant ruse. It’s a neat little story, but it is one that does not appear within the pages of El Cantar de mio Cid. Other aspects of the Cid’s history and legend are also lacking in this poem, and must be found in other sources – so if you were hoping for one complete, heroic account of the life and deeds of Rodrigo Diaz, this epic is perhaps not the best source. It even feels as though it starts halfway through the story, beginning with the assumption that we know the characters and the backstory already. This is a fairly good assumption for the poem to make, as the reader ought probably to have a little background knowledge on the life and times of El Cid before they chose to read such a text, and the fact that the opening pages of the text were lost to the winds of time goes in part towards explaining the odd feeling you may get in this story.

           So in conclusion, El Cantar de mio Cid (the Song/Poem/Epic of my Cid) is a fairly cute medieval Spanish epic in a similar vein to The Song of Roland. In El Cid We have a heroic outcast, mighty battles, daring duels, swords with impressive names, an unpleasant event two-thirds into the story, and a righteous court-room finale. As with all old texts, the edition is everything. I can recommend Harney, but then he is one of the most recent translations, so perhaps an earlier edition might be to your liking. If you have a love of Spanish culture or history, or Medieval war or literature, then it would be wise to experience this text. Otherwise, I can only say it might mildly improve your life to have read it.

Bibleador

The Epic of the Cid. Translated by Michael Harney. Hackett Publishing Company. (2011).