This book itself seems alive when you read it. And I know of very few authors who can make one appreciate more the tremendous need for all us us to learn about and become respectful of the web of life around us. This book belongs on the shelves of all armchair marine biologists and explorers of the seas.

Warmly recommended.

This book was written by an eight year old girl some time around the turn of the century. It is a story of courtship. The author had read many of the clasic novels on the subject. Combined with the experiences of a child, the result is a book filled with unintentional humour.

The result is that her characters are at once children and adults. When taken for a ride in a cariage, her heroin kneels on her trunk and looks out the window, bouncing up and down in her excitement. When Mr. Salteena, whose ambition it is to be a "real gentleman," is presented at court the Prince of Whales offers him ice cream. When he goes to visit London, Mr. Salteena sees nothing improper about sending the heroin to stay with the hero, unchaperoned. They fall in love and marry, much to the disapointment of Mr. Salteena who loves her too. He consoles himself by eating some of the wonderful deserts at their wedding supper.

This is one of the funniest books ever written.

The book was reliable until Thursday 29. She wanted to look up 'suture', but unbeknown to us pages 1531 to 1594 were missing.

Therefore we have a useless book.

Surprisingly, Rob Roy is not the main character of the book. Rob Roy's appearances in the book are spotty, at best. Instead, Francis Osbaldistone is both narrator and main character. Francis, we quickly find out, is more interested in poetry than in business. His father, who hoped for Francis to take over the family business, becomes angry with his son and banishes him to his brother's estate, Osbaldistone Hall. Francis's relatives are all country hicks, with the exception of Diana Vernon, an astonishingly beautiful "cousin" who stays with the Osbaldistones for reasons best left unrevealed here. Francis also encounters the treacherous Rashleigh Osbaldistone, the cousin who is to replace Francis at his father's business. Francis soon becomes embroiled in several adventures, usually with Scottish sidekick/groundskeeper Andrew Fairservice and Glasgow businessman Nicol Jarvie at his side. Needless to say, Francis falls in love with Diana Vernon and becomes entangled in the machinations of the Jacobite rebellion.

I found myself amazed at Scott's depictions of women in this book. Diana Vernon is not only beautiful; she's smart, self-assured, and a very dominant figure. Rob Roy's wife, Helen MacGregor, also is presented as strong and domineering. I find this fascinating in a novel written in the early 19th century. Even more surprising is Francis; he is depicted as weak and easily dominated. Between Rashleigh, Rob Roy, and Diana, Francis never seems to know what is happening and is easily brought to emotional frenzies by the other characters. You quickly begin to wonder how this guy can get anything done.

There are two minor problems in Rob Roy. First, I'll mention the Scottish dialect. Scott, in an effort to be authentic, makes liberal use of the Scottish accent. This isn't much of a problem in the first part of the book, but in the second half it becomes a serious issue. Even worse, Scott uses the Scottish characters to reveal major plot points. Therefore, if you can't read the dialect, you're in trouble. This wouldn't be bad if a glossary had been included in the book, but there isn't one. After awhile, I realized that "bluid" was blood, and that "muckle" meant much, but the inclusion of many Scottish idioms had me totally dumbfounded. Other Scott novels in the Penguin series include a glossary of Scottish terms, but not their edition of Rob Roy.

Second, the pacing of the book is most unusual. For some 200 pages, nothing much happens. I've read many novels from this time period, and most move faster than Scott. This doesn't make Rob Roy a bad book, but it does take patience to get to the end. Even when the plot starts to thicken, Scott still takes a lot of time to unfold events. In some aspects, this lends a distinct quaintness to the book. At other times, it can become annoying. It is easy to understand how many people would lose patience with the book and give up.

This is still an entertaining book, and I highly recommend it to those interested in historical fiction. Despite a few problems I had with the book, I would like to read more of Scott's work in the future. I shall certainly look for editions with glossaries so I can navigate the Scottish words. By the way, the man on the cover of the Penguin edition is William, 18th Earl of Sutherland.