Roderick the Last of the Goths

Originally entitled "Pelayo, the Restorer of Spain," the poem was later retitled to reflect the change of emphasis within the story.

Eventually, Roderick travels across Spain before determining that he must return to rescue Pelayo, an heir to the Spanish throne who was held prisoner by the Moors.

Southey, like other poets who described the story of Roderick at the time, connected the Moorish invasion of Spain with Napoleon's invading of other countries.

Regarding the rape scene, it is possible that Southey removed Roderick's guilt to create a more sympathetic character.

[2] In 1808, Southey resumed working on his poem Curse of Kehama after he almost gave up poetry because of the reception of Thalaba the Destroyer and Madoc.

The Visigoths, original rulers of Spain, fall under the invading Moors, which was provoked by the rape of Florinda by Roderick.

During this time, Pelayo, cousin to Roderick and whose father was killed by Witiza at the prompting of his traitorous mother Favila, fled for his life from Spain.

When Roderick takes over, he defends Witiza and spares his other relatives, but the survivors along with Count Julian also aid the Moors in invading Spain.

To settle any past family problems, Pelayo's daughter and Pedro's son marry, and Alphonso is made the heir of the Kingdom of León and promises to keep fighting until the Moors are defeated.

After Orpas accuses Julian of inability to convert his own daughter to Islam, Florinda returns to her father with Roderick at her side.

[14] Like Walter Scott and Landor, Southey connects the events surrounding Napoleon with the Moors' invasion of Spain within his work.

[15] In a letter to Landor, Southey described the rape scene: "here you have a part of the poem so difficult to get over even tolerably that I verily believe if I had at first thought of making Roderick any thing more than a sincere penitent this difficulty would have deterred me from attempting the subject.

"[16] To overcome the problem with having his main character rape a woman, Southey decided to put some of the responsibility on Florinda and make Roderick more sympathetic.

Although Roderick is a Catholic, his arguments are actually a combination of Deistic theology, Stoic philosophy, and generic Christian ethics that reflect many of Southey's views.

[21] An anonymous review in the December 1814 Theatrical Inquisitor argued, "It is scarcely possible to view the errors of exalted genius without breathing a sigh of compassion and regret.

Its principal faults are that it is too long by half, too declamatory, and consequently often cold and spiritless where it ought to be most impassioned, and that it is incumbered by a pervading affection of scriptural phraseology".

[23] Not everything was a problem: "these defects are counterbalanced by a well chosen subject, happily suited to the prevailing enthusiasm of the author's mind in favour of Spanish liberty, by a deep tone of moral and religious feeling, by an exalted spirit of patriotism, by fine touches of character, by animated descriptions of natural scenery [...] and by an occasional excellence of versification worthy of the best and purest age of English poetry.

Original in its plan, true in its fundamental elements, and consistent in its parts, it rouses the feelings, and stimulates those powers of the imagination, which rejoice in the consciousness of exertion.

The variety of its cadences gives a spirit which relieves its grandeur, and the redundant syllable at the end of many of the lines prevents the majesty of its tone from oppressing the ear.

The language is such as the best authors of the best era of our literature would acknowledge, nor can we give it higher praise than to say that its standard worth would be admitted in the mint of Queen Elizabeth's age.

"[26] Also in April 1815 was John Taylor Coleridge's review for the British Critic, which read, "This is the first time that we have had an opportunity of paying Mr. Southey the attention which he deserves; and we avail ourselves of it gladly [...] Mr. Southey is eminently a moral writer; to the high purpose implied in this title, the melody of his numbers, the clear rapidity of his style, the pathetic power which he exercises over our feelings, and the interesting manner of telling his story, whether in verse or prose, are all merely contributive.

"[27] The review concluded: "here is plenty of sword and dagger, war-horse and chariot, a bugle or two, some little love, several beauties, and even a marriage in prospectu, with all the other ingredients of a 'charming poem.'

"[28] An anonymous review in the September 1815 Christian Observer stated, "To the poem of Roderick, Mr. Southey has annexed a voluminous collection of notes.

Our Shakespeares and Miltons never thought it necessary to ballast their poetry with a mass of prose, and perhaps felt secure that, if they found the text, posterity would not fail to find the commentary.

On the present occasion, if the commentator of Roderick appears scarcely worthy of the poet, yet he must be a very fastidious, or a very dull reader, who does not find the evil of possessing the commentary, infinitely overpaid by the gratification of reading the poem.

Its materials are of heroic caliber, sufficiently dignified for the epic tone, yet blended with those topics to which a chord vibrates in every heart, and to relish which the common feelings of our nature are the only requisite qualification.

[32] In 1909, Maurice Fitzgerald claimed, in regards to the description of Florinda's rape and confession, that "there are few scenes in English poetry of a more intense dramatic feeling".

While the perversity of Florinda's past behavior represents an advance from the flatness of Southey's usual character portraits, it still lacks substance to be fully convincing.

The brittle illogic of her action seems less an outgrowth of her psychology than a convenience for the poet, enabling him to exculpate the king without simply abandoning the rape motif of the legend.

"[35] In 2006, William Speck claimed that Roderick was "the last of Southey's long poems, is also the greatest [...] It is a fine, swashbuckling tale, and told with zest.