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Sunday, August 28, 2011

Ivanhoe, by Sir Walter Scott, 1819


This is a big book (bigger than its 500 pages), so this is a lengthy review. I apologize in advance.

Ivanhoe is the second of the four books by Sir Walter Scott that are on my children's literature reading list. The list classifies Ivanhoe as "young adult." And, for once, I agree with the list's designation. Although the story takes place in a relatively small space of time and a limited geography, the action is epic in feeling. I felt as though a great pageant were proceeding in front of me, great in its emotions, actions, characters, and themes. At the same time, the romantic stereotype the book established taints the book in retrospect--seeing it as strictly a romance makes some of the action laughable. I succeeded, however, in seeing both the epic and the silly at one and the same time and enjoyed the stomach-tickling sensation where one rubbed up against the other.

Rob Roy was a here-and-now book, and instantly engaging, rather than this pastry from the past. But both books deal with loyalty and chivalry and honor. Both books view chivalry as doing the right thing, even when it hurts. Both books are darn good reads. When I look around me and am surprised to see my walls and furniture when I thought I was in a castle dungeon or under a giant oak tree or watching a jousting tournement, that's a good read.

Where do I begin? Ivanhoe is supposedly one of the first works of English historical fiction (with an emphasis on fiction) and led to a resurgence in interest in a glamorized vision of the Middle Ages. Set in the 1100s, the story is bathed in a sort of golden glow of chivalry and honor--where wrongly applied, righted; where rightly applied, glorified. Uppity Normans, who famously invaded in the fatal year 1066, rule the roost and belittle, cheat, and terrorize those who still identify themselves as Saxons. King Richard has headed out on a crusade, leaving a power vaccuum his odious brother John seeks to fill. Saxons roam the forests in guerilla bands (yes, Robin Hood is in da book). Rather than Richard or John, chaos reigns.

Upon the scene, enters Ivanhoe, disguised as a pilgrim returned from the crusade. The first main scene (a banquet in Cedric's castle) introduces almost every main character. Ivanhoe's father, the Saxon Cedric, Cedric's beautiful ward Rowena, the man Cedric wants Rowena to marry--Athelstane, a Knight Templar and a priest, both violating their own vows, and many other interesting folk. Scott includes two characters not of the nobility, and their perspective serves as an antidote to all the finery and frippery. The first is Wamba, jester to Cedric. As all fools, he is the one who can tell the pithy truths. The other is Gurth, a pig-herding slave. And, most intriguing is the inclusion of two Jews, Old Isaac and his beautiful daughter Rebecca. O-ho, you say. Two beauties and one knight! More than the romantic plot thickened at that dinner. I will not here detail every feature of the plot...

As in Rob Roy, Scott demonstrates that good and evil are not segregated upon one class or group. Wamba and Gurth both show natural chivalry, loyalty, and courage. However, the Normans do come across the worst, as piggish and hyper-military. Catholicism permeates every aspect of life. The wealth of the land is hoarded by the church and the nobility, often passing through Jewish hands on the way from one to the other. One of the saving graces of this book is that each male character is seen to encompass a range of good and bad qualities.

Not so the women. Rowena and Rebecca (the only women  really seen in the book) are steadfast, faithful, true, skilled, courageous. We do not see a bad side--Rowena doesn't pout when she doesn't get her way and Rebecca doesn't withhold medicine from those she dislikes. The two women are saints. Rowena, who should be the heroine of this book, is somewhat flat and lifeless. The author's fancy was captured by the Jewess Rebecca, who is drawn in much more detail and has a lot more scenes. I saw a 1950s movie of Ivanhoe in which Rebecca was played by Elizabeth Taylor, and that was marvelous casting. Scott couldn't have known that he was writing the part just for her, but he did. Both women end up kidnapped and subjected to the attentions of smarmy men. Both retain their honor. Rowena is rescued and restored to grace. Rebecca is pulled through a series of ordeals before obtaining her freedom.

I was surprised that Isaac and Rebecca played such a large part in this book. Jews are so often left out when the age of chivalry is discussed. One article I read suggested that the inclusion was due to a Jewish rights campaign that was taking place in England in the early 19th century. There was a new awareness of the ill-treatment and prejudice of Jews. For whatever reason, Isaac and Rebecca are more fully developed than any other characters. They are unwanted most of the time by almost everyone, except when they are wanted (as money-lenders or healers, for example), when they must be instantly ready to subserviently serve. If any character engaged my heart, it was Rebecca. The injustices she faced put her in real peril and left her with no place to turn for aid. She is rescued from a hideous death by, of all things, the inner conflict of her captor. It is a genius scene, full of surprise, action, suspense, horror, grief...you name it. The interesting article is at:
www.newenglishreview.org/custpage.cfm/frm/41391/sec_id/41391

Scott is much better in Ivanhoe than in Rob Roy at pushing the action to a fever pitch and then rescuing the reader at the very last nick of time. It's wonderful stuff. There is also a traditional dependence upon disguise. The character of the hermit (who in Robin Hood lore is Friar Tuck), switched back and forth between outlaw and priest quite literally with a change of robe, sometimes right in front of everybody, his staff being either cudgel or cross as needed.

Someone should stage Ivanhoe as a gigantic outdoor drama, with horses and battles and jousting. It would be magnificent. It has been done as opera many times. But I imagine a setting as gorgeous as Chillicothe's Tecumseh in the open air, with actors and horses coming onstage from many directions, tables turning. I can see it so clearly. Penni AlZayer? Want to give it a try? Can I be Friar Tuck?

Best bits: The most compelling piece of writing is in Chapter 29, when Rebecca and Ivanhoe dispute the value of chivalry. Ivanhoe asserts that dying for glory is the highest calling a man can have. Rebecca replies,

Alas, and what is it, valiant knight, save an offering of sacrifice to a demon of vain-glory...? What remains to you as the prize of all the blood you have spilled--of all the travail and pain you have endured--of all the tears which your deeds have caused when death hath broken the strong man's spear, and overtaken the speed of his war-horse?...Alas! is the rusted mail which hangs as a hatchment over the champion's dim and mouldering tomb--is the defaced sculpture of the inscription which the ignorant monk can hardly read to the inquiring pilgrim--are these sufficient rewards for the sacrifice of every kindly affection, for a life spent miserably that ye may make others miserable? Or is there such virtue in the rude rhymes of a wandering bard, that domestic love, kindly affection, peace and happiness are so wildly bartered, to become the hero of those ballads which vagabond minstrels sing to drunken churls over their eveing ale.

Best surprise: This book has a wonderful reading of the Robin Hood tradition. Hints of it appear early in the book.

Other surprise: One of the stoniest characters dies of a conflict of emotions. Now that is cool! There is also a ghost who walks. Marvelous. Wonderful.

Main complaint: The dialogue was slow, and burdened with chivalric and religious traditions. Sometimes I felt that the dialogue was there simply to explicate those traditions and to make the story seem more historical. But instead it was ponderous and slow. Action! There was action a-plenty; let's speed up the interludes.

Physical description: This is a nice edition, from the Great Illustrated Classics line. However, it was never trimmed properly, making it hard to riffle through the pages to see what chapter you were on for example. The story is 500 pages long, in 44 chapters. This edition has plates that, weirdly, don't go with the action, but serve more as background information. There is a strange introduction that I don't understand--something about Scott pretending to be someone else writing the book; and very strange fake footnotes (I think they are fake). Bizarre.

Typos: This book is littered with typos. Yuck. Better luck with whatever edition you end up reading.

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