This great book has escaped me far too long, but is now amongst my favorites.

As tales of nobility and chivalry go, Ivanhoe scores a ten. It is superbly written and easy to read. The cast of characters seems nearly endless, as even secondary characters take on great living qualities and consume the reader.

Reviewers may focus on King Richard, his evil brother John, or Ivanhoe, but there are so many strong characters. For instance one "DeBracy" is a stout hearted soldier of fortune and happens to be working for the ill minded John. His knightly character is challenged and defeated by the Black Knight of the Fetterlock and he quickly champions fair play and chivalric form when that defeat, by one more noble than he, rekindles his manhood and loyalty to his vow of knighthood.

Another character, Brian de Bois Guilbert, plays a villain and strong crusader of christendom against any foe of the cross or his own gain. Sir Brian is a member of the Knights Templar and is vexed or enchanted by every worldly thing that he has denounced . His love for a beautiful Jewish girl is completely absurd to all around him, but he is completely consumed by her beauty and purity. Willing to give up fame, fortune, and power for her; we find him nearly mad with his passion so far out of control.

I reccommed this book to lovers of great novels and historians alike. You won't go wrong with Ivanhoe!

This is most definately a book you have to wade through but Scott is such a masterful story teller that the difficult passages are worth the effort. Rebekah (I can't remember which way Scott spelled it so please bear with me) is a brilliant character, an intelligent and independant woman who uses her brain. Most modern books don't have as strong a female character.

THe introduction to my copy says that the book is not accurate to medieval history and was not meant to be. The Normans and Saxons were symbols for the English and Scots. (Scott was pro independance) I don't know how true this is but it makes a good deal of sense. My point is, the strength of the book was not it's historical accuracy but Scott's brilliant characters. Rebekah and Brian de Bois Gilbert are my favorites hgandds down for their complexities but everyone has at least one good scene. (Except poor Rowena who really is a damsel in distress.)

It was fashionable during my school days (the 60s and 70s) to dismiss "Ivanhoe" as just another medieval romance replete with damsels in distress and their knights in shining armor. In retrospect, I think that was just a lazy excuse (certainly my own) to avoid wading through this rather lengthy, densely written historical novel. Take my advice, fellow reader: wade through. It is well worth your time and energy.

The story, of course, is set in Merry Ole England, with Richard the Lion-Hearted on the throne and his malevolent kid brother (the future King John of Magna Carta fame) plotting to take it away from him. From the history we do know of this period, King Richard rarely spent any time in England, much preferring to immerse himself in the Crusades or any other errant knight adventure which struck his fancy. In this setting we find the Saxon-bred Ivanhoe, who against his father's wishes joined Richard in the Middle East to fight the "Infidel." Ultimately, Ivanhoe finds his way back into his father's good graces, and I suppose at one level Sir Walter Scott's Classic is about their estrangement and final rapprochement. But "Ivanhoe" is so much more.

Perhaps the over-arching theme to "Ivanhoe" is the nascent reconciliation between the proud, yet vanquished, Saxons and their equally proud, conquering French Norman overlords. The story takes place about a century after the Norman Conquest, and it took a great many more years than that before the antagonists successfully blended together to form the greatest nation on earth. Equally great was the emergence of the language we now call English, which is in large measure a synthesis of the Saxon and Norman tongues. But at the time of "Ivanhoe," two distinct languages exist (and Scott never allows us to forget this essential fact), and the friction between the two races is palpable throughout.

"Ivanhoe" can be divided into three major scenes: the Passage of Arms at Ashby, the siege of Torquilstone, and the final contest at Templestowe for the life of the Jewish heroine, Rebecca. The entire novel can be viewed as three successive peaks separated by long, undulating transitional valleys. I hesitate to voice any criticism of Scott's greatest work, but maybe a brave editor would have made him shorten his transitions a bit. But no matter. "Ivanhoe" at its worst is still better than most, and the rather lengthy transitional passages slow the pace down for the players to utter Shakespearean-like commentary on the world as it is.

"Ivanhoe" is an enduring classic for so many reasons. For one thing, Sir Walter Scott is simply incapable of rendering one-dimensional characters. Even the evil triumvirate of Front-de-Boeuf, Maurice de Bracy and Bois-Guilbert is rendered (at times) in a sympathetic light. By the time they are besieged at the Castle of Torquilstone, the reader is salivating over the prospect of them dangling over the battlements, with or without their armor on. And, yet, as the stranglehold tightens, Scott has them utter some of the funniest and wittiest lines in the entire novel.

No review of "Ivanhoe" can be made without some reference to the stunningly beautiful Jewess, Rebecca-- one of the most honorable and sympathetic characters in all of literature. Whether she is hounded by libidinous knights, or being held for trial as a witch, Rebecca maintains her calm dignity throughout. She is unswervingly devoted to her faith from beginning to end, which is no mean feat for a Jew in 12th Century England. And there is simply no pretense to the woman. She is who she is, and she wishes us all to accept her for nothing more, nothing less.

The same cannot be said for many of the other central characters in "Ivanhoe." No doubt they are all heroic, but they all act heroically behind a mask. King Richard, Robin Hood, and even Ivanhoe are all in disguise, and that's what strikes this reader as so odd! Now, I understand "disguise" as a narrative plot device, but methinks there's way too many disguises floating around in "Ivanhoe." So, what does Sir Walter Scott really have in mind?

Well, here's one idea that harks back to a theme I touched upon earlier on. The story of "Ivanhoe" is the struggle between Saxon (rights) and Norman (prerogatives). Their eventual assimilation occurs centuries after the events in Scott's Classic, but the seeds of their reconciliation are thoroughly sown in "Ivanhoe." By having his central characters assume disguises, Sir Walter Scott has effaced (at least symbolically) all Saxon and Norman identities to aid in their eventual amalgamation as one great race.

All of which leads, perhaps, to a grander theme that Scott had in mind when he penned "Ivanhoe." His very first scene begins with the court jester, Wamba, seated on an ancient Druidical monumnet, and lecturing his companion, Gurth, on the proper use of Saxon and Norman words. The setting reminds us of just how old the Island Kingdom really is, and that the history of England is, indeed, the history of invasion. The Norman Conquest of 1066 displaced Harold and his Saxon vassals, but don't feel too sorry for the Saxons. They had their run, defeating various indigenous tribes of the 7th-9th Centuries, not to mention fighting off one Viking raid after another. And, of course, the Romans crossed the Channel as far back as Julius Caesar whose initial inroads were eventually consolidated by the Emperor, Claudius, who defeated the Celtic Queen Boadicia.

Now, my history may miss its mark a bit, but I think you get the point. What, precisely, is an Englishman? Norman, Saxon, Viking, Roman, Celtic, Pict, Druid? I think the Scottish-born Walter Scott, whose native language was not English, thought very deeply about that question, and "Ivanhoe" is his eloquent, meditative response.

This is a pretty fascinating book, containing the works attributed to Hermes in English as well as the non-translated version, revealing one version on one page and the other version on the next page; Thus, when one reads the book, they find the non-translated version on one page and the English version on the other page, with footnotes and stuff to help out. Overall, a good book, and it gives some understanding of the thinking of the ancient Magickians and other Occultists. Worth getting, overall.

Sir Walter Scott's tale of "Ivanhoe" is an enjoyable story, but it taxes the readers patience many times over. If you can bear with the very lengthy descriptions, and what has to be the driest, most boring first chapter of any book in Western Civilization, you will actually find yoursel drawn into the story. Two quick notes, you may want Cliff's Notes or an on-line equivalent to help keep straight as to who is who, and to help get a better understanding of the often arcane writing style. Second, this Signet classic version of the book really needs to be re-set for a more modern typeset. This book is still using the typeset from the 1962 printing, and it is very difficult on the eye. Most other classic books have since been re-set to a larger print to make it easier on the eye. "Ivanhoe" should not be an exception. (Note: other editions of "Ivanhoe" available in mass market form ARE available in an easier-to-read print, and the reader may want to consider them over this edition.)

I find "Redgauntlet" one of the less satisfactory novels in the Waverley series. Certainly, it has the local flavor, the dialect, the imaginative description of evocative landscapes all his novels have, but it is not a blast as some of the others are. The plot involves a fictitious third Jacobite rebellion, and it is interesting to see how Scott (especially in the notes from the Magnum edition, included in this edition) argues this time not for the historicity but for the historical probability of the events described. While Scott is often hailed as the inventor of the historical novel, "Redgauntlet" also shows him to be a forerunner in the historically probable novel--a genre practiced to great effect by our present-day history buff, Umberto Eco.

But probability alone does not a great novel make. Darsie Latimer's character is even less probable than his semi-historical counterparts, such as Edmund Waverley and Henry Morton. And this is strange, since moving further into fictionality, one could argue, a writer might allow themselves more latitude to make a character interesting, even if certain circumstances remain historical. Is this a conscious effort on Scott's part to show, after the fictionality of history, the fictionality of fiction?

Scott disturbs narrative conventions even further when the conspiracy against the Hanoverian King George III completely fails to materialize--ironically, for what seems to be the silliest of reasons: the Pretender (or the Chevalier if you're a Jacobite), Charles Stuart, refuses to give up his mistress. Thus, the main plot of the novel sizzles out and really not much happens in these 400 pages. Mind you, I personally don't need much to happen, but the 19th century novel did. Scott as a postmodern writer? That is pushing it too far, but this novel awaits a postmodern critique enlightened by a reading of Eco and Bakhtin.

That said, there are some really interesting things going on. Apart from the "regular" set of characters of Scott's Scottish novels, this one features an orthodox Quaker who is the epitome of anti-militant mercantilism. The form is also quite new for Scott--the novel is an epistolary, a set of letters between Darsie Latimer and his friend Alan Fairford. Thus, the novel's first-person point of view is split, and this provides for interesting contrasts.

For me, Scott sort of shot himself in the foot with this novel. His earlier novels ("Redgauntlet" is the last of the Scottish novels, written eight years before his death) lead one to expect a major action to happen before the denouement, and this one avoids that a bit too artificially. It seems that Scott was at pains to stick to history, and his own political convictions, a bit too much: a fictitious Jacobite rebellion is OK as a narrative vehicle, but it shouldn't interfere with the peaceful Great Britain (in which Scotland was in many respects subsidiary to England) that Scott himself inhabited and advocated. And so narrative excitement has to give way to Scott's pacifist politics--an honest choice, which Scott consistently maintains in all the Waverley novels--and character development and politics take precedent.

A final note: Scott has always proven himself a masterful and honest critic of royalty and nobility, especially of those characters he seems to love. "Waverley"'s Mac-Ivor is chastised for his political obstinacy, in "The Fortunes of Nigel" King James I (a Scot) is rebuked for his fickleness and corruption, and in "Redgauntlet" the formerly charismatic Stuart proves effeminate and tragic (dying an impoverished alcoholic, in the footnotes). And often enough, these tragic characters are of more interest than the somewhat ineffectual and sometimes foolish main characters: something for readers of literature to sink their teeth into.

A tough read but the book is particularily rewarding for the notes in the back. They give a great overview of the life and times of the characters.

The note's while being very thorough can be a little convoluted. At least twice I was refererred to notes on notes on notes!!

Sir Walter Scott's 1818 novel, "The Heart of Mid-Lothian" deals with events in the lives of the Deans family from 1736 to the early 1750's. The novel begins with the 1736 Porteous riots, in which disgruntled citizens of Edinburgh storm the local prison to take revenge on a needlessly cruel official. With Anglo-Scottish relations in a tailspin and Queen Caroline levying a rash of punishments against Edinburgh in the background, the action of "Mid-Lothian" commences.

The principle heroes of the novel are Jeanie Deans and her longtime suitor, Reuben Butler. The two rustic born youths are from differently oriented Presbyterian ancestry - their parents' religious differences force an almost interminable delay in the progress of their affections. Butler's extensive formal and ministerial education notwithstanding, his financial position is such that he cannot comfortably propose a union to Jeanie's father. Further complication arises when Jeanie's younger and more impulsive half-sister, Effie, is seduced and later accused of murdering her child. The majority of the novel details Jeanie's attempts to question the impropriety of the judgement against her sister, and her interactions with the world outside of provincial northern Scotland.

As always, Scott deals with a range of social, economic, political, and legal issues. Among these in "Mid-Lothian" is the right of the Scottish to control their own internal disputes - are Scottish law and British law compatible? On a related tip, the novel calls into question whether the governors of the people have sufficient sympathy with and understanding of all the people they govern. Scott also examines the nature of language - with plain English, various Scottish dialects, and quotations from classical Latin and the Bible - the characters in the novel often have to understand each other before they can adequately communicate.

"Mid-Lothian" has a number of quirky and interesting minor characters: from the soft-spoken, yet intently-staring Dumbiedikes, to the hardline theologian-father David Deans, to the rake George Robertson, to the tragically mysterious Madge Wildfire, to the courtly, wistful Duke of Argyle. These minor characters add substance, humor, and diversity to Scott's intricate plot. In "The Heart of Mid-Lothian," Jeanie Deans, an unpretentious young woman, takes on a world beyond the enclosed experience of her home, bearing the troubles of her family, her community, and her nation on her back. The result is a great, if sometimes gregarious novel which you will certainly enjoy.

Being a fan of Scott and his writings, I expected much more from this book than it was able to offer. Although the actual writing of the book is excellent, conveying wonderfully the flavor and character of the times as well as the vanity of the monarchs and suitors, the plot ends abruptly with a tragic ending. Aside from altogether disliking tragedies, I found this ending a surprising disappointment because the book gave very little indication of the horrific climax which was to come. After finishing the last page, I almost felt as though I had finished reading two separate books - a romance and a tragedy

I like Sir Walter Scott. I like his heroic characters, his idealistic heroes and his romantic (in the 19th century sense)ideals. "Ivanhoe" is one of my all time favorites (moviegoers, don't get the Robert Taylor verson, hold out for the one with Anthony Andrews!) Scott was to the romantic novel what Errol Flynn was to the 1930's swashbuckler: he defined it! Waverley is one of his real "Scottish" novels, and I liked that a lot. But I have always had a hard time with "Kenilworth." It drags on too long, the plot moves at snail's pace, and darn it, there ain't no action! Maybe I wasn't in the mood for it, but I have to say, I expected more. I don't know why this book has had such notoriety, and I hate to say this about a "classic," but I'm sorry, this book was really a disappointment. But I will say this: the Penguin (or what I like to call "Harlequin for Nerds") edition was very attractively packaged. But alas, I have to admit, I still judge a book by its cover!

As a ardent reader of medieval England stories, this is one book which I found as entertaining and romantic as any other book I have read. It has everything from castles and Knights in horses to damsels in distress. Scott is magnificent in the portrayal of Amy as well as Sir Walter Raleigh and Elizabeth is the crown of his characterisation. A book worth reading..

The sequeal to the dud "The Monastery," this tedious book takes us through the life of Roland Graeme, a comely lad saved in the first chapter by the lady of Avenel, who somewhat adopts the fair-faced youth as her page, a person to charm away the weighty epochs while her husband, Sir Halbert Glendinning, whiles away on campaigns in foreign lands with the Scottish Regent Murray.

After 7 years of insolently domineering the household, Roland the upstart is banished from the castle and leaves to seek his fortune.

Up to this point, the book reads well and lively. Unfortunately, Scott intertwines character after character, culminating in the imprisonment of Mary Queen of Scots in the island fortress of Lochleven. Her isolation and imprisonment, the episodes of her supporters and admirers, the strong aversion to Popery now gaining everywhere but especially in Scotland, and the side which Roland, a secret but doubting Catholic raised in the Protestant manor of Avenel, will take, either the side of his patron Murray, or the lawful but deposed Catholic Queen of Scots, all distract the attention of the reader until a fairly satisfying but long-delayed ending.

The ends may justify the means, but the tedium of so many tiresome dialogues, and so many major and minor intrigues, give a troubling weight to this book which is difficult to justify.