Where It All Goes Down
France, Spain, Pyrenees Mountain Pass
Big Picture
Welcome to Carolingian Europe, folks, the next-best thing since the fall of the Roman Empire. In 481, when the Romans were still sputtering along, Frankish land was a dinky northern kingdom of zero interest to anyone.
But with the help of his land-conquering grandfather and father, Charlemagne was crowned emperor on Christmas Day, 800 C.E. of an enormous empire that stretched from the edges of Scandinavia down to Spain and Italy. 9th-century Europe, meet the new Roman Empire.
But how did one man control so much geography? Answer: by outsourcing. Think of the Carolingian Empire as an even bigger, medieval United States. If the guys in D.C. had to govern every single state on their own, it would turn into the Disunited States of Chaos. Instead, the federal government outsources power to each state government, granting it the rights to make state laws, hire state police, form state schools, etc.
Rewind to 800 C.E. and you've got a similar picture. Through a system of feudal relationships, that granted local power to less-powerful kings and nobles in exchange for military service and political allegiance, Charlemagne and his Franks were able to keep control of their far-flung empire. These secondary rulers were called vassals. Most of the time they were already ruling the land when Charlemagne conquered it. If they agreed to submit to the Franks' feudal conditions, they were allowed to keep ruling it as vassals.
Not such a shabby deal, right? But joining the Frankish Empire also meant joining the Frankish way of life. For non-Christian people, like the Saxons and the Normans, this meant immediate conversion to Christianity. Others had to give up their own forms of government in order to adapt to Carolingian centralization. They paid taxes and were recruited to fight in almost constant wars as the Franks continued expanding their lands.
On the other hand, being part of the Carolingian family meant they also reaped the benefits of the Carolingian Renaissance, a 9th- and 10th-century revival of scholarship, art, and literacy.
But what about the poem itself?
The action in the Song of Roland may take place in Carolingian Europe, but the Oxford manuscript was written at least 4 centuries later, between 1140 and 1170 C.E. By that time, Charlemagne's empire had fractured into two big pieces, the Frankish kingdom (ruled by the Angevin kings, who were also rockin' the throne in England) and the remaining Holy Roman Empire (basically modern-day Germany).
Friends, a lot of stuff can happen in 400 years. By the time Turoldus wrote this poemdown, the Normans had invaded England and their Angevin successors ruled an Anglo-Norman kingdom with a different set of laws and government institutions. The second Crusades were kicking off as Christian Europe continued their fight for control of the Holy Land, pumping knights up with ideas of good v. evil and the importance of holy war.
Meanwhile, in between managing statecraft and war, European courts started developing chivalric ideals. Yes, good knights fought God's enemies, but they also needed to look good at home—dress well, appreciate poetry, and woo lovely damsels.
The Song of Roland reflects its 12th-century world just as much as its Carolingian setting. For more on how 12th-century ideals make their way into the poem, head back up to "Why Should I Care?"
France
Geography is not this poet's strong point. "France" sometimes means the land where the Franks live, but just as often it refers to Charlemagne's entire empire, including France and all the nearby lands he's conquered, like Saxony and Normandy.
Whatever it refers to, France is always described as a beautiful place, fair, lush, and sweet, where the knights long to return. It is the heart of Christianity and godly civilization. This is the setting for the Franks' bittersweet homecoming and Ganelon's trial and execution. When the Franks finally get back at the end of Charlemagne's battle with the Emir, most of the action takes place inside—inside Charlemagne's palace at Aix, inside the chapel—reinforcing the link between France and civilized government.
Spain
Charlemagne and his guys have been here seven long years, besieging cities and converting Spanish land into Frankish marches. Although Saragossa seems like a pretty cosmopolitan place, with churches and palaces and turrets, the poet makes it clear that wickedness and bad religion have poisoned this land. The Franks are eager to subdue it, but they certainly don't want to stay in Spain forever. They want to turn it into marches—i.e., Frankish land held in a non-Frankish country (Spain) and fortified against it (swords and soldiers!)—and hightail it back to France.
Mountain pass in the Pyrenees
This is the site for the Battle of Roncevaux (translation: where Roland and his men meet their bloody end). By catching the rearguard in this narrow pass, Marsile is able to cut it off from the rest of Charlemagne's army. The shadows and looming cliffs make the Franks' trek spooky even before Marsile makes his surprise appearance. The trickery of their attack makes their wickedness even wickeder.
The open plain in Spain
The men of Spain fight bravely on the plain. This wide-open field becomes a battlefield in the poem's second big fight, when Charlemagne fights Baligant's army to avenge Roland's death and Baligant fights just as hard to avenge Marsile's death.
In contrast to the narrow mountain pass where Roland died, this battlefield is flat and open. No one is being surprised and no one is being tricked.