This is the fully illustrated and extended annotated edition including a rare and extensive biographical essay on the author, his life and works plus a wealth of illustrations.
Count Robert of Paris is a knight of the First Crusade (1096-1099), and the story is chiefly concerned with his insult to a Greek ruler and its reparation. In order to protect his domain from invasion, Alexius Comnenus, Greek emperor of Constantinople, hires a bodyguard of warriors from other nations, who are termed Varangians. Jealousies arise between these and native soldiers, and Hereward a Saxon is attacked by a Greek, but escapes and afterwards becomes a valuable retainer for the imperial family.
The armies of the First Crusade approach the city, and the Emperor, knowing himself powerless to check their progress, consents to allow them to pass through his country. On their part, the Crusaders acknowledge his sovereignty in a public review, though many of the arrogant nobles deem themselves his peers. One in particular, Count Robert of Paris, shows his contempt for the imperial authority by seating himself upon the throne for a moment, with his dog at his feet. Alexius feigns to overlook the insult but secretly plots vengeance, and thereafter the Count's stay in Constantinople is full of peril. He is separated by trickery from his wife, Brenhilda, a handsome Amazonian who had followed him to the wars, and is cast into a dungeon with a tiger which he slays ...
Librarian Note: There is more than one author in the GoodReads database with this name.
Sir Walter Scott was a Scottish novelist, poet, historian, and biographer, widely recognized as the founder and master of the historical novel. His most celebrated works, including Waverley, Rob Roy, and Ivanhoe, helped shape not only the genre of historical fiction but also modern perceptions of Scottish culture and identity.
Born in Edinburgh in 1771, Scott was the son of a solicitor and a mother with a strong interest in literature and history. At the age of two, he contracted polio, which left him with a permanent limp. He spent much of his childhood in the Scottish Borders, where he developed a deep fascination with the region's folklore, ballads, and history. He studied at Edinburgh High School and later at the University of Edinburgh, qualifying as a lawyer in 1792. Though he worked in law for some time, his literary ambitions soon took precedence.
Scott began his literary career with translations and collections of traditional ballads, notably in his Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border. He gained early fame with narrative poems such as The Lay of the Last Minstrel and The Lady of the Lake. As the popularity of poetic storytelling declined, especially with the rise of Lord Byron, Scott turned to prose. His first novel, Waverley, published anonymously in 1814, was set during the Jacobite rising of 1745 and is considered the first true historical novel. The success of Waverley led to a long series of novels, known collectively as the Waverley Novels, which blended historical events with compelling fictional narratives.
Over the following years, Scott produced a remarkable number of novels, including Old Mortality, The Heart of Midlothian, and The Bride of Lammermoor, each contributing to the romantic image of Scotland that became popular throughout Europe. With Ivanhoe, published in 1819, he turned his attention to medieval England, broadening his appeal and confirming his status as a major literary figure. His works were not only popular in his own time but also laid the groundwork for historical fiction as a respected literary form.
Scott married Charlotte Genevieve Charpentier in 1797, and they had five children. In 1820, he was granted a baronetcy and became Sir Walter Scott. He built a grand home, Abbotsford House, near Melrose, which reflected his passion for history and the Scottish past. However, in 1825, financial disaster struck when his publishers went bankrupt. Rather than declare bankruptcy himself, Scott chose to work tirelessly to pay off the debts through his writing. He continued to produce novels and non-fiction works at a staggering pace despite declining health.
Walter Scott died in 1832, leaving behind a literary legacy that influenced generations of writers and readers. His works remain widely read and studied, and he is credited with helping to revive interest in Scottish history and culture. Abbotsford House, now a museum, stands as a monument to his life and achievements.
Like The Talisman, this novel is set during the Crusades in the Middle East. However, unlike that earlier novel in the Waverley series, this one is quite disjointed and unclear as to the real narrative story. In other words, I found it - the last one in my 36 volume set of these works -one of the weakest of all the novels in this series.
The main character, Count Robert, doesn't even appear until roughly 275pp. into the 650pp. story. Then, his first action is to brazenly upstage the Emperor of Constantinople, Alexius Comnenus. Such boorish behavior was hard to understand given his oft-mentioned fealty to the codes of chivalry and honor. The real hero of the story appears to be Hereward, a Varangian mercenary in the service of the eastern Emperor (referred to as 'Greeks' although they refer to themselves as 'Romans', having been descended from the Romans of antiquity after Constantine moved the seat of empire to the city which bears his name).
Set at the time of the First Crusade, it is late in the eleventh century, just after the fall of England to the Normans in 1066. Hereward is an Anglo-Saxon who has been forced to flee his homeland and pursue his fortunes far from home. The Varangians are almost all Anglo-Saxon in their background, which distinguishes them from the Immortal Guardss, the main military force of the Emperor.
As leader of the Varangians, the Greek Achilles is Hereward's mentor, and he introduces him to the royal family: Alexius, his historian-daughter Anna, wife Irene, and son-in-law, Nicephorus Briennius (also called 'Caesar'), Anna's husband. Attending this royal group is Agelastes, an elderly advisor, philosopher, and all round schemer.
The manner in which Alexius chooses to respond to the Crusaders stated aim of traversing his kingdom in order to recapture Palestine from the Saracen Turks is quite interesting, as far as it goes. Partly, he will appear to cooperate fully and openly with them. Partly, he will endeavor to separate their forces, by giving them conflicting advice on the best routes to follow. Partly, he will deplete their numbers by providing them with tainted victuals and suspect wine. Partly, he will confront them in open military engagement. Thus proceeding on several fronts, he will hopefully not allow the Crusaders to impinge on his territory's sovereignty. Mention is made several times of the contrast between the noble virtues of the Latin Crusaders and the self-serving, scheming and intriguing natures of the Greeks.
Within the Greek Empire, conspiracy runs rampant. At least three of the above mentioned characters have plans to achieve a major turnover in the existing power structure. Their success or failure in prosecuting their intentions makes for the barest of narrative threads which the novel succeeds in spinning, but it is all accomplished somewhat off-stage and off-hand. Some semi-exciting scenes occur in the dungeons beneath the Blacquernal, the royal palace, in which one character manages to stun a tiger with a stool only to encounter an Ourang Outang named Sylvan, who is referred to as the Man of the Forest. With my incredulity and wonderment already running high at this point, Hereward then runs into his true love - an Anglo-Saxon girl to whom he'd been betrothed back in England - and whom he hasn't seen since leaving his native isle. They also meet Ursel, a blind prisoner who was once a major opponent of Alexius. His rehabilitation plays a key role in the unfolding of the conspiracy.
The upshot of the conspiracy is played out in just as confusing a manner. A hug from Sylvan has a significant consequence for one of the conspirators, while the wife of another turns this way and that in reaction to her husband's perfidy. A supposed contest between Robert and Nicopherus draws a detachment of Crusaders back into the kingdom (believe it or not, they ride their horses backward in order to do this, since they'd vowed never to turn their back until they reached Palestine!) An actual battle-axe on battle-axe competition is stopped by a frantic voice from the crowd.
Supposed rivals become allies, separated couples are reunited and a marriage is part of a series of actions which allow one of the main characters to grant the sincerest wish of another. Then, 15 of the final 20 pp. is devoted to two minor characters considering their options given the outcome of the planned conspiracy.
Overall, very poorly organized by Scott, whom I have admired as a master of plot construction. His characterizations also seemed pale compared to those of other novels in the series. Published in the year Scott died, there is a preface seemingly indicating a lack of proper editing of the work. It was the second last novel he completed, and seems to have been one that, sadly, indicates his diminishing power as a novelist.
Scott's penultimate novel opens up with a conceit which Gibbon would have been proud of, comparing the husbanded branches of a tree with cities which attempt to build their own fame on the glories of a previous model:
'when a new graft is taken from an aged tree, it possesses indeed in exterior form the appearance of a youthful shoot, but has in fact attained to the same state of maturity, or even decay, which has been reached by the parent stem.'
So now you know exactly what the Scottish novelist thought about the Grecian empire centred on the city of Constantinople.
Then he introduces us to one of our heroes, Hereward of Hampton, an Anglo-Saxon forced into leaving England who has become a Varangian (royal bodyguard) to Emperor Alexius Comnenus in Constantinople, just as the First Crusade kicks into gear.
He soon crosses battle-axes and later forms an unlikely alliance with the eponymous hero Count Robert, a combustible Frankish knight whose wife, the Countess Brenhilde, also enjoys a good dust up.
This is a Crusader story of East meets West, though the Muslim defenders have no part to play in it. The Greeks and the Franks are both Christian, but the similarities stop there. The Grecian court is deceitful and obsequious, the French knights honest and chivalric.
Scott has some fun creating a 'lost' passage from Anna Comnenus's history the Alexiad, recited by the historian herself, with hyperbolic epithets in praise of her father and a characteristic misquote from Homer.
Unfortunately as is often the case with Scott there were far too many long-winded conversations and not nearly enough action, exacerbated by a promising plot which never materialised. Full marks however for a scene in which a prison break was assisted by an orangutan!
I also liked this withering summary of the Iliad by the Countess Brenhilde:
'I have heard of the celebrated siege of Troy, on which occasion a dastardly coward carried off the wife of a brave man, shunned every proffer of encounter with the husband whom he had wronged, and finally caused the death of his numerous brothers, the destruction of his native city, with all the wealth which it contained, and died himself the death of a pitiful poltroon, lamented only by his worthless leman, to show how well the rules of chivalry were understood by your predecessors."
The Greek's defence? Paris was in fact a 'dissolute Asiatic', so there.
Aside from a few such moments this was a real slog.
Andrew Lang, editor of the Waverley novels (and familiar to Powellians as the poet of "Theocritus!"), loses no time in the introduction assuring his reader that this is Walter Scott's worst novel. I've only read one of Scott's other novels (Ivanhoe of course), but Andrew Lang seems like a pretty astute judge in this case. When I first read Ivanhoe a decade ago, I remember feeling excited that there were still great adventure novels out there I hadn't devoured as a child. When I read Count Robert of Paris, it took all my efforts to keep slogging through. Here are some reasons not to bother reading this book: 1. The title character doesn't appear for the first 185 pages. In the first 185 pages, there's only one vaguely interesting character: Hereward. If the book had been titled "Hereward the Varangian" maybe I would have been less irritated? 2. Nothing really happens at all for the first 295 pages. Then Scott adds an orangutan. Clint Eastwood's filmography corroborates the fact that orangutans are harbingers of fail. 3. SPOILER ALERT! The orangutan randomly kills off the major antagonist for no particular reason in the space of a page (the 451st page, if you are wondering, of 582). The editor notes that this is "rather sudden and unexpected." 4. The editor also notes -- well, maybe this is a reason TO read Count Robert of Paris -- that the book contains "the last of all the admirable cold pasties which have been presented so generously to Scott's heroes and readers." 5. Scott seems to have a bee in his bonnet about women, especially Anna Comnena and her intellectual endeavors. His criticisms of her style might be more accurately levelled at Byzantine literature in general than at "authoresses." I don't remember him being so cranky about Rebecca and Rowena, though I may well have forgotten? 6. No one else has read this book, at least not at the University of Vermont library. Dozens of uncut pages. The last time I read a book with so many uncut pages was a handsome edition of Petrarch's Africa (sans English translation) in the Duke library.
Sorry if this doesn't tell you much of anything substantive about the novel, but don't worry about it. Read something else instead, unless you are a Waverley completist.
This story had a lot of action and an exotic locale (Constantinople) but also had an overly ornate plot and thinly developed characters. This made it a fun read, but not a book to read again.
I liked the historical period and place of this novel but compared to other works by Scott, this one did not measure up. There were some very unbelievable story lines and I felt the story got weighed down by notions of chivalry. Not sure if the knights/counts/crusaders really thought this way so more reading is needed. I would like to read The Alexiad by Anna Comnena because of reading this novel and that is a plus.
I see others are more likely to give this a 3 or lower, but I almost gave it a 5. My most honest ranking, though, has to be 4. I'm a fan, so I like almost everything Sir Walter Scott writes; that's a given. And I liked this quite a lot. But it just misses for me, and it misses by more for a lot of readers.
[I am putting aside the intrusive racism of the time. Others may not be able to do that. The author makes it clear when it shows up in the story that the people of the time were prejudiced--using that very word--so he seems aware of the issues with racism, but it wasn't clear to me this time, as compared to his other books, that he didn't mostly agree with their sentiments. I hope not.]
It's a good setting--Constantinople at the time that Western European crusaders are on their way to Jerusalem. The Franks and their allies don't much understand the Greeks and their whole vibe, and vice versa. I found that very interesting. The empire is coming under attack on all sides, and they have to buy people off, like these crusaders, so that they don't get sacked. It's okay, though, because they've got the money. What they don't have is fighters.
But here's the other cool part--they do have Varangians. I had thought they were mostly Vikings out of Scandinavia and their relatives, the people of Kievan Rus. But here it's clear that many were Angl0-Saxons or Anglo-Danes fleeing from England after the Norman invasion. One of the main characters, named Hereward, is one of those men, a soldier serving in the emperor's Varangian guard, and he hates the Franks and the Normans who are coming through. Like the Franks, the Varangians (as they are portrayed here) are warlike in a way that is useful to a rich empire without a strong warrior class.
The novel has some great intrigue, with an ongoing conspiracy to take down the emperor that Hereward learns about. It becomes entangled with a separate intrigue between one of the conspirators and one of the leaders of the crusaders--Robert of Paris, who the novel is named for--when he kidnaps the man's wife. (She's awesome--I would have liked more of her. She's a strong warrior in her own right.) All of the intrigues are coming together in a joust between those two men at huge event that will be the beginning (and ending, theoretically) of the uprising.
Unfortunately, it gets tied up in bits and pieces after that, and we see less of the noble Hereward and more of the emperor gathering up the conspirators and deciding what to do with them. There's an old rival brought out of the dungeons who looks like he's gonna play a really cool part, but then he gets sorta written out. The joust goes forward, in a different form, but the uprising is pre-empted. Hereward ends up going with the crusaders for a very important reason (the only spoiler I'm not revealing). And that's cool. But we stop seeing any of the events from the eyes of the best characters, and I was disappointed.
It's still good. It just had too much of the drama siphoned off at the end. It's mostly a true story, so there are constraints, but I feel like Scott stumbled at the conclusion and made an amazing novel just good.
Well, that's good enough. I still enjoyed it. As is so often the case, it's only really recommended for those who already like Sir Walter Scott, or maybe those interested in the setting.
Among the least popular of Scott's novels and the penultimate in the Waverley novels. An enjoyable read that takes us back to the first crusade and the clash between two very different cultures, the very old sophisticated but decadent Byzantine Empire with its plots and power struggles and Greek inheritance vs the French crusaders that are borderline brutish fanatics but aspire to higher ideals and are infused with chivalry and courage. At the centre, an Anglo Saxon hero of the famed Varangian guard that bridges those two Worlds somehow. The plot if somehow predictable is agreeable and fluid with small twists and surprises. It is unravelling through long dialogues, which actually makes the book perfect for a motion picture (even though there was only one attempt in Russia). The dialogues can be a bit long and are very pompous in Walter Scott's style. The construction is solid showing Scott's maturity and personally I did not find the descriptions superfluous as through them one discovers the two aforementioned worlds and they are actually setting the stage. The one thing I found personally very annoying, is the lack of historical accuracy, as the characters depicted represent other historical figures altogether. Therefore Robert of Paris is inspired by Robert Guiscard who never made it to the crusades and belongs to another generation and his wife Brenhilda is inspired by the historical character of Sikelgaita who incidentally is Robert Guiscard's second spouse. The short appearance of Bohemond of Antioch and Godfrey de Bouillon and their link to the main characters makes it more historically erratic for someone who knows the history of the period and had me confused as to the plot, though it's not detrimental to the fiction itself. All in all, it is well written and it's nice to see a change in scenery in Scott's work.
The year is 1080. Alexius, emperor of Constantinople, has to deal with unruly crusaders crossing his land and treachery from his own inner circle. One of the crusaders is the impetuous Count Robert, who travels with his Amazonian wife, Brenhilda, and her servant, Bertha, long lost love of Hereward, a loyal Varangian guard. When Robert and Brenhilda are kidnapped as part of local political intrigues, Robert and Hereward, natural enemies, are thrown together.
So much happens in this novel that it is hard to encapsulate it. The real life biographer, Anna Comnena, walks alongside an almost-human orang-utan, who kills or saves people depending on the circumstances, a mechanical lion, a real tiger, horses being ridden backwards, an evil philosopher, a resurrected political opponent and lots and lots of really attractive people.
This novel is one of the last things written by Sir Walter Scott. The dense prose and unpalatable presentation of gender and race may make it difficult for a modern reader to approach, but it is a rewarding read for those who stick with it.
In my opinion, this is not Scott's best work. There are some fun aspects of the story and the characters, but it's not quite as good as some of his other novels. It definitely has a different feel to it than most of his books, and the subject matter and setting ate certainly a departure from so many of his adventures set in the Scottish highlands.
Последний роман Вальтера Скотта получился значительно слабее его более ранних произведений. И еще чувствовалась какая-то отстраненность автора от описываемых событий, чего не было в его произведениях о родной ему Шотландии.
This is not vintage Scott – although not yet sixty when he wrote it, he only had another year or two to live. There are flashes of genius, as always with Scott, but the Gothicisms have a slightly unhinged edge. One of the characters is actually an orang utan, and as Scott clearly knew almost nothing about these creatures this takes us into some especially mad and risible episodes.
I still think the feel of the Byzantine court is well done, though, and I think Scott captures exactly the character of the Emperor’s daughter Anna Comnena. I have read the Alexiads which she authored, and thought them mostly very boring and almost always very silly, but occasionally rather atmospheric and enlightening. Gibbon thought them worthless and mocked Anna with characteristically Gibbonian misogynistic cruelty. Scott pokes more gentle fun: he is certainly alive to Anna’s pompous pedantry, and his satire of her and her writing verges on genius – but, as always with Scott, he manages to mock gently enough to preserve our sympathy for Anna’s humanity.
This is worth reading for the portrayal of Anna Comnena alone, but the interesting treatment of the Varangian Guard is also well done. Are these Anglo Saxon exiles from Norman England a kind of parallel with Jacobite exiles from Hanoverian Britain? Is Scott’s reactionary yearning for the Anglo Saxons and the Jacobites all part of the same conflicted, romantic and reactionary world view? I feel it is, and I feel the same somewhat conflicted sympathies, but there are also troubling aspects here – such as the strangely upsetting and racist attitudes to the Scythians. If the Varangian Guard stand in for the exiled adherents of Bonnie Prince Charlie, who then are the Scythians representing? They may of course stand for nothing other than Scythians (though they are surely somewhat anachronistic for the 11th century, when this tale is set). But I’m not so sure. No doubt some post colonial theorists could make a case for them as representing the fear of a nineteenth century European for the non European “other.” I think – for what it’s worth – that the context of the 1832 Reform Act is key. Scott, as a High Tory, hated the prospect of Reform and dreaded its inevitability. Are the Scythians symbolic of the barbarians whose victory over virtue, chivalry and the old order would be ushered in by Reform?
Maybe I’m over thinking it. This is very enjoyable just a ripping yarn of 11th century Constantinople. But, as always with Scott, there are intriguing undercurrents which I enjoy thinking about, and this for me is one of the things that adds to my enjoyment of all Scott’s writing.
This was the best of the Tales of My Landlord series (not counting the last one, which I haven't read yet). It probably helped that it didn't take place in Scotland. The story was good, and I really enjoyed reading it.
It might only have had 3 or even 2 stars if not for the orang-utang. He is the star of the book. Though the tiger was pretty fierce, too. What do you mean, you thought this was a historical novel about the Crusades?