Hello Romanticists,
We now embark on the first novel of our class, Walter Scott’s
historical romance Ivanhoe. For this first post, I want you to accustom
yourselves to close reading novel prose.
Pick one short paragraph of the text and analyze it in minute detail,
noting interesting word choice or sentence structure, rhetorical devices,
dominant images, the role of the narrator, and anything else you can.
For example, if I chose to analyze the first paragraph of the novel, I
might note that the subject of this paragraph is England, implying that
the novel might be about England or English identity as much as it is about any
individual character. I might go on to note
the shift in verb tense from the first sentence to the second: “there
extended in ancient times a large forest” becomes “The remains of this
extensive wood are still to be seen” (15).
The effect on the reader is to create a temporal jolt as we whiz across
centuries, and to balance an assertion of continuity (you can “still” see
something of the forest) with a sense of loss (you can only see “remains,” not
the whole). Finally, I might examine the
syntax of the final sentence. The
order of words in each clause is inverted: one would normally say “many of our
most desperate battles were fought here,” not “here were fought…” This slightly unusual syntax emphasizes
“here” by putting it first, suggesting that the location discussed is more
important than what occurred there. That
emphasis is reinforced by the anaphora, the rhetorical device of starting
several clauses with the same word(s).
In this case, each clause begins with “here” and then identifies an event
that took place on the spot in question: “Here haunted
of yore the fabulous Dragon of Wantley; here were fought many of the most
desperate battles during the Civil Wars of the Roses; and here also flourished
in ancient times those bands of gallant outlaws…” (15). This device expresses the depth of English
history be piling up in that “here” a whole series of different historical
moments.
I’ve bolded the textual elements to
make the pattern of observation and analysis easy to see: first identify some
aspect of the text, then proceed to explain how it contributes to the meaning
of the passage as a whole, or how it affects your reading experience.
Happy reading,
Prof. M.
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| Illustration of Wamba and Gurth from the 1830 edition. |
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| Illustration of the a scene from the operatic adaption of Ivanhoe, 1891. |
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ReplyDeleteI would like to focus on a short exchange between Gurth and Wamba (in my book it’s on pg. 20-21). In this conversation, Wamba points out that the Norman dominion of the Saxons in England is apparent even in the spoken language. For example, a pig is known as the Saxon “swine” when it is tended and fed, but the Norman “pork” when it’s ready for consumption. The jester uses this example to show how the Normans are oppressing the Saxons. A closer look:
ReplyDelete• Wamba tells Gurth to “LEAVE THE HERD TO THEIR DESTINY" and then enumerates that to mean travelling soldiers, outlaws, and pilgrims. This conveys a sense of vulnerability. If Wamba is comparing the Saxon predicament to that of the swine, the intention is clear: under their Norman overlords, the Saxons are utterly defenseless and vulnerable.
• When Gurth responds to Wamba, the narrator refers to Gurth as “THE HERD”. It seems that the author is highlighting his position in society as a mere Saxon swineherd. This designation underlines the Saxon subservience to the Normans.
• The concept of Norman dominance is conveyed in a CONVERSATION; this communicates to the reader that this is the day-to-day reality facing the Saxons. It affects every aspect of their lives, as reflected in the fact that it is the subject of their small talk and kidding around.
• Wamba says that this reality is something that “EVERY FOOL KNOWS”, again highlighting that this is the accepted reality
• Wamba says that once the pig is ready to be eaten, it is “CALLED” pork. This suggests that the title/name of the meat changes, but there’s nothing to suggest that its actual essence changes. Meaning, the Norman domination of the Saxons is a merely an outward change; the actual worth of the Saxons and their essential sense of self is unaltered. This can be seen as a defiant gesture towards the equality of the two groups.
• Wamba asks Gurth, “WHAT DO'ST THOU THINK OF THIS?” This suggests that Gurth will have a definitive opinion on the matter, since he lives with the reality of Saxon domination daily. It’s something he feels firsthand.
I have chosen the paragraph describing Prior Aymer on page 26, beginning with “Yet so loose...”. This passage is written in such a way that the readers feel inclined to scoff at the prior, as they clearly see his duplicity. Yet it aptly conveys the realistic nonchalance with which his misdemeanors are treated, forcing readers to understand why the people would be sympathetic to such an insincere person.
ReplyDeleteThe overall tone of the paragraph is contemplative, looking at both the detriments and defenses of Prior Aymer. There is an equal amount of attack and defense, both equally subtle in their use. Seeing as the paragraph begins with ‘attack,’ the reader does pick up on the narrator’s overall disapproval of this character, though it is his job to convey the reasons for how the Prior is viewed. The first words, “yet so loose were the ideas” regarding the clergy’s conduct, are a clear demonstration of this. “Loose” implies that the standards of the people were no higher than, if not much lower than, the standards of the corrupt clergymen themselves. And it was this low standard that allowed for them to see the Prior in a positive light at all.
We are given additional reasons for the people’s viewpoint: The prior has a pleasant personality. He easily forgives sin (note the word “ordinary” – were he to forgive more than that, he would become hated rather than loved; the man knows his boundaries). He is has trained hawks and fast hounds, endearing him to the young. He has the ability to appear wise and learned, endearing him to the old. As much as the reader is given reason to like the Prior, the tone of the narrator takes on a subtly mocking tone – “his supposed learning” and his “superficial” knowledge were simply “sufficient” enough to convince the people of his gravity and sanctity. The reader is made to understand that it is all a show.
And how, we ask, does he get away with it? Because he is “generous,” and “charity, as it is well known, covereth a multitude of sins.” He does good for the people, so his faults becomes “follies” and his sins becomes “irregularities.”
Toward the end of the paragraph, the repetition of the term “If Prior Aymer...” has a brilliantly subtle effect. The narrator begins with the word “If,” and then the Prior’s name, bringing him into sharp focus as the subject. The narrator then lists the various questionable actions of the prior. As the narrator goes on to describe the people’s reactions, readers remember that first word – “if.” This one, tiny word conveys the people’s attitude. “If. If the Prior did this....” As much as the people may see, they don’t want to believe. Even if they do believe, they shrug it off. At least the prior has redeeming qualities, unlike others of the cloth who do as he does and have none.
Finally, the paragraph ends with a comparatively short sentence describing Gurth and Wamba’s reaction in meeting the prior. They know his reputation, and as all the people do, they bow to him and in return he blesses them. They know what kind of person he is, and the Prior knows they know. But everyone goes on pretending because that is what benefits both sides. Clearly, it’s corrupt, but it is human nature. As much as we are meant to see the corruption, the narrator also gives us the reason we are to excuse it.
The introduction of Ivanhoe (the character) is probably the most innocuous introduction of a hero in all of fiction, and certainly in a work by our dear Sir Walter Scott. Even Gurth and Wamba, for heaven’s sake, get almost a page of introduction and description, down the minutest elements of their clothes. Yet Ivanhoe is entirely obscured.
ReplyDeleteFor one, you do not get a name – you won’t get one for chapters afterwards. After his innocuous introduction, he is “the stranger” or “the Palmer,” and later on “The Disinherited Knight.” You can’t get less nameless than that. The Prior and the Templar don’t even notice him at first: “At length Brian remarked, what had first escaped him in the twilight; ‘Here is some one either asleep, or lying dead at the foot of this cross’” (31). The man’s presence is so insignificant, he is unnoticeable. He might even be a non-person – he’s mistaken for dead. I think the ‘twilight’ is important as well – he is a man of shadows. I personally didn’t even register that he was going to be an actual character, especially since Scott is normally so invested with painting a vivid, detailed picture of anyone worth caring about. I had to go back and reread when I realized that someone was leading them, to register that they had actually met someone.
But then comes the first hint – his first words are a courteous, courtly “good French.” This nobody, this lump that may be dead under the cross, speaks good French? And thus “the figure” becomes “the stranger.” The stranger goes on to lead them perfectly, “as if by instinct,” to the house, causing the Prior to force the stranger to reveal himself a tiny bit more: he becomes “the Palmer,” and a sassy one at that. Finally, he is called “their guide.” Each new title conferred on him is a little more specific, personal, and distinguished, until he becomes the Disinherited Knight, and finally Ivanhoe.
Through the obscurity of his introduction, and the pulling teeth required to gain more and more pieces of the man’s identity, Scott decides to save his best for last. The character is almost hidden in the text, and is very carefully revealed in it, bit by bit, just as the identity of Ivanhoe is carefully concealed from the others until the right moment.
I chose the paragraph that introduces Isaac the Jew. Scott tells us that Issac is a tall man who has lost some of his height as a result of a lifetime of stooping. This strikes me as symbolic of a fine ("upright") person who has been worn down by a life of oppression, which would be in line with the Romantic interest in little people. We then hear that Isaac is really a handsome man, but his features are repulsive to others because they are obviously Jewish.
ReplyDeleteWhen he tells us about the antisemitism of the time, Scott describes the perpetrators as "credulous and prejudiced" and "greedy and rapacious", revealing his sympathies for the persecuted. He takes another blow at prejudice and antisemitism by reminding us that this national outbreak of hatred took place during "those dark ages", equating prejudice with darkness.
The last sentence implies that antisemitism has contributed to the faults in the national character of the early English people. Scott might be connecting his text to the national character of England (and Scotland?) in his day. Or he could be talking about how hatred in general and abuse of the underdog in particular hurts both the hater and the hated, which seems like a Romantic thing to say.
Scott devotes about as much space to describing the person and dress of his poor Jewish characters as he does for his wealthy Christian characters, possibly indicating a Romantic sense of equality of all people, regardless of class and religion.
ReplyDeleteI chose the paragraph in Chapter 9 after Prince John extends an invitation to Rowena to dine with him.
At this point in the novel, the reader is well-aware of the hatred between the Saxons and the Normans. However, the passive-aggression in this passage is an excellent indication of the subtle ways of the court. For one thing, Rowena remains silent. Her silence is not new; it is a continuation of a silence she has been keeping throughout the tournament. As a Saxon, Rowena belongs at the tournament as much as anyone else, yet she is unable to participate in the rituals because she is constrained by her native tongue. Whether she wants to join, Rowena cannot, because the language to participate is refused to her. Language is a way to keep in their place despite their standing in society.
Cedric does not allow this constraint to affect them for long. He replies “I also, and the noble Athelstane of Coningsburgh, speak only the language, and practise only the manners, of our fathers. We, therefore, decline with thanks your Highness's courteous invitation to the banquet.” The power play is evident here. Not only is he turning down the request he makes it seem as if the denial is based on the extreme differences between the Saxons and Normans. He turns their lack of shared culture around and uses it to get out of an invitation from a royal.
Lastly, the conversation shows how Prince John is unfit to rule. He refuses to speak Saxon, a language he knows well. He obviously prefers the Normans over the Saxons and flouts the impartiality expected of a King.
Combined these points speak to the importance of language in court games. Each side uses language (or in Rowena’s case, a lack of language) as part of their power-play.