On Walter Scott

I have just finished reading Ivanhoe, a superb story. There is a common prejudice regarding Walter Scott, perpetuated, I suspect, as such views often are, by people who have never read anything by Scott yet like to appear literary and knowing. The prejudice is that Scott's writing is prolix and that he has not stood 'the test of time' (that abominable cliche). 

People who repeat this view can't have read any of Scott's novels -- or at least, they can't have read Ivanhoe (I can't yet speak for the others). It is a thrilling, eventful story. It is true that Scott's writing is somewhat slower than most modern authors', which as far as I'm concerned is a good thing, being a slow and somewhat ponderous creature myself. It is also true that Scott is old-fashioned: his morality is not ours, but then again neither is Austen's, yet she seems to be remarkably popular for reasons I have not yet fathomed. (Austen, one might add, was envious of Scott's writing.)

I only realised as I read Ivanhoe what an important book it is. Robin Hood and Friar Tuck are main characters -- Scott is the reason why Robin Hood has come to be known as 'Locksley'. A couple of other historical characters appear -- you will likely be able to guess who they are, though I don't wish to explicitly spoil it for anyone. I get the impression that Scott's depiction of medieval England had a profound effect on England's sense of itself and its history. Apparently John Henry Newman, a great admire of Scott's novels -- 'O what a poet! his words are not like a novelist ... Author of Waverley, thou art a a second Shakespeare.' -- said that Ivanhoe first turned men's minds towards the Middle Ages. One can see why. It's such a great story, wonderfully told.

Yet it's not really appreciated any more. In fact, Walter Scott may be one of the most under-appreciated English-language authors. He may be even more under-appreciated than Tobias Smollett, after whom this little blog is named. At least Smollett's writing is not so frequently dismissed as turgid. Both were Scots, though I don't think that has much if anything to do with it. It is actually to do, I suspect, with the fact that modern people are particularly stupid and impatient; and those who aren't are awfully incapable of enjoying themselves. The low humour of Smollett and the romance of Scott (so often relegated, it would appear, in maimed editions, to the status of children's author) does not appeal to supercilious high-minded bores. They probably heard that Scott is not worth reading, and the appeal to authority is so strong for them that even if they read and enjoyed every Scott novel they probably would never confess the fact. And those who are looking to be entertained are not willing to endure the mild intellectual strain reading Smollett or Scott might inflict on such poor, weak souls.