Redgauntlet

by Walter Scott, Kathryn Sutherland (Editor)

Set in the summer of 1765, Redgauntlet centers around a fictitious Jacobite rebellion. This is the last of Scott's major Scottish novels. The text is that of the 'Magnum' edition of 1832.

Genres: Classics, Historical Fiction, Fiction, Scotland, Historical, British Literature, Literature

510 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1824

About the author

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.

Reviews

[John · Rating 4 out of 5]

The story follows the family Redgauntlet and portrays a fictional Jacobite uprising in 1765. The character Redgauntlet is chasing windmills with the Jacobite uprising and defeat in 1745-46 at Culloden a distant memory.

Redgauntlet also known as Herries of Birrenswork kidnaps his young nephew Darsie Latimer. Darsie was sent to his friend Alan Fairford’s father to keep him out of the fanatical clutches of his Jacobite Uncle. Darsie’s father was executed in the 1745 rebellion.

Darsie does not know his past and ignorant over his identity. His friend Alan a lawyer sets out to find him and along the way meets the Quaker Joshua Geddes and the sea-captain Nanty Ewart. There is also in the story the famous blind fiddler Wandering Willie supernatural tale of Redgauntlet and a visit to hell to get a receipt for a debt paid.

Darsie and Fairford also fall in love with the mysterious 'Greenmantle', who lives with Herries as his ward. There is also an appearance by the Chevalier. Overall a good adventure story with kidnapping, sword fights, ghost stories, a monkey and Peter Peebles a drunk involved in a complicated lawsuit that brings humor to the story.

Apparently this story has parallels of Scott’s upbringing and lawyering days.

[Laura · Rating 3 out of 5]

From BBC Radio 4 - Classical Seral:
A free adaptation by Robin Brooks of Scott's novel - now set in the year 2035, in a fictional future Scotland.

This is the second season of adaptations of some of Sir Walter Scott's most popular novels, with David Tennant as Walter Scott.

Alan Fairford is destined to become a lawyer but is distracted from his studies by the sudden disappearance of his best friend Danny Latimer.

Danny's absence seems to be connected with the sudden appearance of Stuart Galloway - aka Redgauntlet - who has business with Alan's father, Alexander.

But who is Redgauntlet? And what is his mission?

Alan Fairford sets out to find out the answers and hopefully to rescue his friend.

Written by Robin Brooks.

Produced and Directed by Clive Brill.
A Brill production for BBC Radio 4.

https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b049...

[Bettie · Rating 3 out of 5]

The Bride ⭐⭐⭐⭐

https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b047...

Description: 4 Extra Debut. Mike Harris adapts Sir Walter Scott's The Bride of Lammermoor: The novel is set in the Lammermuir Hills of south-east Scotland at the beginning of the 18th Century and tells of a tragic love affair between young Lucy Ashton and her family's enemy Edgar Ravenswood. The Ashtons and Ravenswoods have been enemies for centuries - but will a proposed union between the warring families finally bring peace?

Edgar Ravenswood Roshan Rohatgi
Sir Walter Ashton Hugh Ross
Lady Ashton Maureen Beattie
Lucy Ashton Joanne Cummins
Frank Hayston Drew Cain
Craigengelt Robert Hudson
Caleb Robert Hudson
The Marquis of Hamilton Bryan Larkin
Old Ravenswood Bryan Larkin
Ailsie Gourley Beth Tuckey
Walter Scott David Tennant
Music Composed and performed by Ross Hughes and Esben Tjalve
Violin and viola - Oliver Langford


Ivanhoe ⭐⭐⭐⭐

https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b048...

Description: Set in 1194 after the failure of the third Crusade, King Richard I is said to be in captivity in Austria after having been taken on his way back to England. In his absence, his brother John is plotting to take over the throne.

Wilfred of Ivanhoe, son of Cedric and one of the few remaining Saxon Lords, joined Richard in the Crusade but has been disinherited by his father for showing allegiance to a Norman. Ivanhoe is rumoured to have come to the rescue of his King in his hour of need but has since disappeared. Is he alive? Rowenna - the woman he loves - anxiously waits for news.
Ivanhoe Mark Bonnar
Isaac Henry Goodman
Gurth Henry Goodman
Cedric Christian Rodska
Rowena Laura Molyneux
Guilbert David Troughton
Rebecca Sasha Behar
Elgitha Sasha Behar
Fitzurse Will Adamsdale
Wamba Will Adamsdale
De Bracy Nicholas Murchie
Prince John Nigel Cooke
Prior Aymer Edward Max


Redgauntlet ⭐⭐⭐

https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b048...

  Jacobean - a person who lived in the Jacobean period.
Jacobite - a supporter of the deposed James II and his descendants

Description: Alan Fairford is destined to become a lawyer but is distracted from his studies by the sudden disappearance of his best friend Danny Latimer.

Danny's absence seems to be connected with the sudden appearance of Stuart Galloway - aka Redgauntlet - who has business with Alan's father, Alexander. But who is Redgauntlet? And what is his mission? Alan Fairford sets out to find out the answers and hopefully to rescue his friend.
Alan Fairford Jacob Fortune-Lloyd
Alexander Clive Russell
Peter Peebles Christian Rodska
Lily Galloway Olivia Morgan
Stewart Galloway Forbes Masson
Roller Hopkins Robert Hudson
Findlay Robert Hudson
Workman Robert Hudson
Nanty Ewart Simon Greenall
Cozen Simon Greenall
Regina Crosbie Allison McKenzie
Walter Scott David Tennant
OS Voice Allison McKenzie
Danny Latimer Paul Ready
James Paul Ready
Nixon Paul Ready

[Cass · Rating 3 out of 5]

I like reading historical fiction about English history and this was a good story. This was about the last attempt to put the last Stuart prince back on the English throne. Luckily I read this on my Kindle and was able to look up the meaning to all the Scottish words I didn't know what they meant. The Scottish brogue is difficult to read. But it is a good story.

[Sean Helms · Rating 3 out of 5]

It would be more accurate to say I liked roughly the final half. The first third of the book was letters exchanged between characters and DRY in the extreme. When the story of a fictional Jacobite uprising toward the end of 18th century finally got under way the book improved considerably. Readers must bear in mind, however, that the language used by the esteemed author was from the period and often difficult to interpret.
Those interested in Jacobite history should keep in mind that although the author was himself a Scotsman, he possessed little or no sympathy for adherents to King James and his bonny son, Prince Charles Edward in reclaiming the thrones of Scotland and England.

[Fionn Mac Domhnaill · Rating 4 out of 5]

I first got this book in the early months of 1st year in college, and after 5 successive attempted reads from the start, I’m a little sad to be closing it now, with my final college year behind me.

Darsie Latimer faces a similar problem in the book - on the eve of adulthood he takes off to find some meaning for himself and can only seem to find derelict politics and lost causes to give him purpose. It’s no surprise Joyce mentions Scott by name in “A Portrait of The Artist”, as Darsie is eager to dodge the trappings of nationalism and faith himself, although this book is probably a little too old to fully commit to rebuking them. A genuinely intriguing read full of extremely likeable characters and intriguing stylistic choices - any page containing dialogue from a character with a Scottish accent took about three times the time to decode, but that was part of the book’s charm.

[Jacob Aitken · Rating 5 out of 5]

I am going to be using the format recommended by Susan Bauer in this review.

Grammar Stage Inquiry: The What

What is the most important event in the book, in which the character(s) change? The most important event is when Darsie decides to leave the stability of Joshua Geddes’s house and join with the blind fiddler.  Darsie does that because he isn’t very smart (none of Sir Walter Scott’s heroes are smart).

Logic Stage Inquiry [The Why and How]

Is this novel fable or chronicle? This is a chronicle.  Sir Walter Scott invented the genre of historical fiction.

What does the central character(s) want? He wants action and adventure. He isn’t very smart.

What is standing in their way? For the first part of the novel, his friends.  Granted, they have no power to stop him, but they are warning him of where his Quixotic dreams will take him.

What strategies does the character(s) use to overcome their difficulties? While Darsie doesn’t suffer from common sense, he isn’t stupid, either.  He’s able to think quickly on his feet and adapt to new situations.

Who is telling the story? The first part of the novel is a series of letters written between the protagonist, Darsie Latimer, and his friend Alan Fairford. Admittedly, it’s not the most engaging beginning. It makes some demands of the reader, given the lack of dialogue, yet it does provide a character sketch for the two gentlemen. The back and forth between the two men’s letters becomes really amusing after a while.  Fairford grants that Latimer may have had “adventures,” but he thinks he embellished the whole thing, and comes close to insulting the man.

The background knowledge of the novel suggests that Redgauntlet is some sort of Byronic satanic figure.  Scott develops this tension in a very skilled way.

Beginning and Ending:  What draws you in? What is the resolution in the end?  What is the logical exhaustion, which demonstrates a philosophy about human nature?  Sir Walter Scott’s skill as a narrator is on full display.  He takes a very dangerous and unwieldy approach by introducing the plot through letter writing.  Yet in the letter writing he uses the possible Redgauntlet character to tie both Darsie’s and Fairford’s adventures together.  I won’t say more so as not to give away anything.

The ending is about as perfectly “exhausted” as one can expect in a story. The philosophy in this work, as in many of Scott’s works, is that the heroic age ended a generation ago.

III.  Rhetorical Stage of Inquiry [The So What?]

Do you sympathize with the characters?  Which one(s), and why? I sympathize with both Fairford and Darsie, for I have been both men.  And Darsie is funny at times: One of Walter Scott's heroes has to take up residence with a Quaker, and here is how he describes the blessing before the meal: "We settled to your breakfast after a blessing, or rather an extempore prayer, which the Spirit moved Joshua to prolong rather more than I felt altogether agreeable."

After Darsie is captured and doesn’t know where he is, he tries to ferret out his location from the serving wench.  The wench is the archetypal dumb blonde and parries all of his rather skillful questions with feigned (or perhaps real) idiocy.

Did the writer’s times affect him? Scott’s characters in this story aren’t as affected by the Jacobite cause as others.  They are not tempted by the Bonnie Prince nor do they seek to overthrow the Crown. Quite opposite.

Is there an argument in this book?  Alan Fairford is often at pains to show Darsie that courage isn’t simply fighting bravely in battle.  There is a “civil courage” that is “courage enough to do what is right, and to spurn what is wrong--courage enough to defend a righteous cause with hand and purse, and to take the part of the poor man against his oppressor, without fear of the consequences to himself” (Scott 47).

Do you agree?  Is this work true about the human experience? Very true. We all know those who want to “overthrow the gubmn’t,” but what stops them isn’t fear or arms, but apathy in their comrades.

[Curt · Rating 4 out of 5]

The best part of this novel is in the later letter preceding the novel itself with Wandering Willie's Tale. Scott has some excellent, well crafted short stories and this is one of them. The novel itself must have been quick and easy for him to write since he was a lawyer and there was so much legal discussion throughout. Once again the Jacobite uprising and the resulting catastrophe is avoided

[Lauren Huff · Rating 5 out of 5]

This has been my favorite Scott novel so far. Adventure, intrigue, mystery, danger, bromance--it's perfectly constructed.

[Suni Lundström · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5

[Steve R]

Alberick Redgauntlet was an adherent of the cause of Robert Bruce, who strove to make Scotland free of England. His son, however, did not follow his father's inclinations and, while the former was pursuing forces of Bruce's opponents, one of them turned and was fired on by Alberick. He discovered it was his son and, in attempting to leap over his prone body, his horse's hoof hit theson with a fatal blow on the forehead. At this time, his mother died in birthing a baby boy with a scar on his forehead. The line was supposedly cursed to continually support losing causes ever since. This background is that of the novel's hero, Darsie Latimer, who isactuallythe gradson on Alberick and the son of Henry, who died following his more rebellious brother's lead in suporting therising of 1745 against the Hanoverian monarchy in England. As Darsie finallybecomes aware of his true parentage and past, as well as twith the fact that he is to inherent amplyestates, he is drawn into an abortive Jacobean uprising led by his uncle, Hugh Redgauntlet. It is doomed to failure over the Pretender - Cahrles Edward's - refusal to abandon the 'woman' he has brought over to England with him. The real fun of the novel is is its minor characters, particuarly Nanty Ewart, a smuggler; Cristal Nixon, a tough; Peter Peebles, a litigant and drunkard; Wandering Willie, a blind fiddler, Alan Fairford, a newly graduated lawyer and best friend of Darsie, and Joshua Geddes, a Quaker fisherman. The scene in which disputes between Ewart and Pebbles, Peebles and Fairford and Fairford and Hugh Redgauntlet all come to a head in the same room is classic Scxott and his plot contriving best.

[Lucy · Rating 4 out of 5]

The most enjoyable yet as I read through Scott's works chronologically. The style of the first half, in letters between the staunch friends who drive the plot, set the scene clearly and move the action forward without too much maundering, Scott's usual failing. They are a likeable pair, the subsidiary characters are well drawn with the usual sprinkling of eccentrics, and although this attempt to recover the throne for Charles Edward Stuart never actually happened, it's perfectly credible. A pleasure to read, and recommended as a good introduction to Sir Walter's style.

[Jessica · Rating 3 out of 5]

Oof! It’s been a while since I finished this, but review it nonetheless I must, to the best of my ability.

So this was a good story, a fine romp, and that was probably the novel’s defining feature – well, that and Scott’s immaculate style. But the latter I was already familiar with and expecting, whereas it was in reading Redgauntlet that I first seriously admitted the idea that Scott’s novels are primarily attractive for their plots. What I mean by this is derived from the knowledge of Scott’s popularity among juvenile audiences in the Soviet Union (of all places), and also from the character of his reception in the nineteenth century, although I wouldn’t venture to reduce that to adventure-mongering. I wonder what the neo-Aristotelians would make of Scott, or have made, possibly... Anyway, I realized as I read that my mental eye was in fact fixed on the calibre of Scott’s sentences, and that, unlike in my previous experiences of reading Scott, there was not very much else of literary interest for me here. I’ll speak to the multi-modal narrative in just a second, but before then it occurs to me that, actually, my only really stimulating experience with Scott was Waverley – although that was such a forceful first impression that it won me over conclusively. My second Scott novel was The Antiquary, and I actually didn’t like that one, mostly on the grounds that I found I emptily boring, but this I chalked up to the quality of the book, not the abilities of the writer. It turns out Redgauntlet is only my third Scott book, although it feels as though he and I are much closer confederates somehow; as I say, Waverley really was that good.

I didn’t find the same triggers of grad student infatuation present here: Waverley I recall being more layered, having more on offer – such as in the way of allusion, metaliterariness, and other such ornaments and devices. Perhaps it was because Scott was more fully in control, as narrator, whereas here that agency was surrendered to two different speakers, in part.

Now. Wouldn’t the part-epistolary format of this novel extend the horizons for literary experimentation? One would be very entitled to ask. I read for this, for differences in idiom or mannerism, and in perspective, between those letters going from Darsie Latimer and Alan Fairford, and the most I gathered was unfortunately superficial. It was all on the level of direct characterization: Alan would accuse Darsie genially of immaturity, in the very act of which he would strike the sober note of their correspondence, and there you had something of a code for their respective attitudes and behaviors. I tried to make out which side Scott took, which character he empathized with better, and although Darsie scored points (predictably enough) for his imaginativeness and poeticism, Alan was unambiguously reclaimed from Darsie’s caricature of the hypocritical stodge.

What most endeared me to this part of the novel was the indomitable friendship portrayed between the two protagonists. I took photos of occasional noteworthy pages as I read (out of expedience, instead of making notes), and I can’t make out the reason for one of these images, on scrolling back, unless it were for the adorable gallantry of Alan’s withdrawing his claim to Darsie’s budding love interest, even though he saw her first! “After you, please.” But this aside – and it was more of a sentimental attribute, than a characterological one, – I found little to distinguish each character individually, as a character: I mean that the people in this novel, even more at large, were too exclusively conduits for action/adventure.

Is this, then, perhaps, the governing trait of Scott’s fiction, to which Waverley was the exception (its own protagonist’s well-known flatness duly granted)? That it, like the archetypal Aristotelian drama, builds itself around plot? Maybe. It’s too early for me to tell, but one thing I can say with certainty, which is that I’ve every chance of finding out, committed as I am to Scott’s oeuvre.

So why will I keep returning to his work? Well, it’s because the man can write, and his writing is a record of remarkably keen thought elegantly expressed. It seems like such an obvious thing to expect quality of thought and articulation from a creative writer, but, in fact, the more I observe of critical standards, the more deceptive this simplicity appears to me. For style is a thing less lauded than subordinated to content-level concerns: the presentation of words is not deemed as important as the representation of, say, social roles – by which I really mean ideologically inflected categories. Today’s critic asks, “What does this tell us about … ?”, or “How is this informed by … ?”, where the missing term is generally supplied by contemporary values, or contemporary interpretations of the past. Or, it becomes a hallmark of higher-level criticism to read such content-level concerns, ambiguously originated, as encoded in the presentation of a text. Like the corsets symbolizing male oppression, closed couplets signal conservative sympathies, or something like that. This splicing of form with ideology indeed, as I think the practice begins with the extension of a (historically constrained) sociological construct onto the study of literature, is one I find deeply problematic.

But that is a discussion for perhaps another day, and the point I am rather driving here is not that content-level concerns are unimportant, or even that hermeneutic ones are valueless. It’s that style, qua style, is not prized as a criterion of literary worth, when it should be. If this sounds like a bid for a more aesthetic valuation of literature, that’s exactly what it is. But the reason I make it bypasses somewhat the aporetic question of beauty, what it is and how evaluated, even though of course that’s part and parcel of aesthetics. I am talking about something a little different, if to my mind inherently related, and that is technique. I think these two, beauty and technique, go hand in hand in the artefactual context – that is, in any of the arts, to me what is technically adept is beautiful. To me, the ultimate reward of engaging with any work of art, and I place literature in that category, is something like astonishment at the level of skill required to pull it off. This implies that the artist is preeminently skillful, that the artwork is novel not because it’s experimental in some fashion (not necessarily, anyway), but because it challenges an expectation of what can feasibly – humanly, if you like – be achieved. This is not unlike an instance of the sublime, the difference being, that the technique observed can be perfectly comprehensible, but still extraordinary in its transcendence. So those novels are in the truest sense eye-opening for me, that display a command of language unavailable to most people, or even to most writers. Language is the tool of the novelist, and how well he handles it determines his noteworthiness. The noteworthiest books, in this sense, are the most enjoyable.

Now, all this isn’t to say that Scott is the forgotten Shakespeare of the nineteenth century. But it is to say that the man can write! Take this one paragraph of description, from a longer passage detailing Darsie’s first impressions of the Laird’s abode; the Laird himself is the focus of this study:

“He had now thrown off his rough riding-cap, and his coarse jockey-coat, and stood before me in a grey jerkin trimmed with black, which sat close to, and set off, his large and sinewy frame, and a pair of trousers of a lighter colour, cut as close to the body as they are used by Highlandmen. His whole dress was of finer cloth than that of the old man; and his linen, so minute was my observation, clean and unsullied. His shirt was without ruffles, and tied at the collar with a black ribbon, which showed his strong and muscular neck rising from it like that of an ancient Hercules. His head was small, with a large forehead, and well-formed ears. He wore neither peruke nor hair-powder; and his chestnut locks, curling close to his head like those of an antique statue, showed not the least touch of time, though the owner must have been at least fifty. His features were high and prominent in such a degree that one knew not whether to term them harsh or handsome. In either case, the sparkling grey eye, aquiline nose, and well-formed mouth, combined to render his physiognomy noble and expressive. An air of sadness, or severity, or of both, seemed to indicate a melancholy, and, at the same time, a haughty temper. I could not help running mentally over the ancient heroes, to whom I might assimilate the noble form and countenance before me. He was too young, and evinced too little resignation to his fate, to resemble Belisarius. Coriolanus, standing by the hearth of Tullus Aufidius, came nearer the mark; yet the gloomy and haughty look of the stranger had, perhaps, still more of Marius, seated among the ruins of Carthage.”

There is nothing apparently exceptional here – no frilly metaphors or idiomatic expressions or (spare me!) stylistic texture. But the amount of syntactic variation summoned to arrange Darsie’s observations of his host, themselves a testament to a fertile imagination, attests to an incredible dexterity of mind, practiced upon language. Just watch for the concatenation of phrases as a vehicle for detail, which accumulates through occasionally visual, occasionally associative relationships. Just witness the variety that colors the subject–verb pairings, despite their unified focus: “He had thrown off … and stood before me”; “His whole dress was”; “He wore”; “his chestnut locks showed”; “the sparkling grey eye, aquiline nose, and well-formed mouth, combined”; “An air of sadness … seemed”. I am reminded (though it may not appear to some a flattering comparison!) of J. S. Mill’s style – elastic in its perspicuity, copious and collected, phrase-laden, and every phrase snug in its place. It’s a marvelous intelligence that can lend a sentence so much range.

Now, it’s one thing to compare the average literary idiom some 200 years ago with what it is today. I am speaking of the average ability a writer commands over his linguistic resources. No comment on that. What I do wonder, more to the point, is how representative was Scott’s idiom for his time. And there, I would venture to say with a fair degree of certainty, that Scott outdoes his average contemporary litterateur. Austen is often brought to mind as the paragon of Regency stylists, and to be sure, she has her own way with a sentence. But Austen’s merit is to economy as Scott’s is to amplitude; they are both celebrated in their own right (my preference for Scott, I think, has other/additional grounds). I am reminded, here, of Austen’s stroke of jealousy towards Scott, I think in a letter or a diary entry somewhere – something like a mock-complaint that, with Scott on the field, there remains little to be done by others!

So Scott has my unflagging allegiance, plot-based and (therefore, I’d say) confectionary as Redgauntlet was, to my taste, because he is, in the first place, an accomplished writer. Now I’ll strip my pretenses to that name by introducing a new idea in a concluding paragraph, and that has to do with the Scottish question. The English question? I’m talking about the reputation Scott has garnered for romanticizing Scottish nationalism at the expense of giving it serious political credit. I hope this is fair to say, actually, because I’m gathering that opinions are mixed about how/where exactly to receive Scott within the British canon, and that this has undoubtedly changed over time. I would like to learn more about this, about Scott’s own allegiances, and how these altered his reputation with literary critics over the years, and I’ll only say in closing that I felt a certain sympathy for the cultural attitude expressed in this book, consonant as it was with my own blended cultural experience, for what I suspect are entirely politically incorrect reasons.

[Andreea · Rating 3 out of 5]

When I grow up I'm only going to study poetry. Having wrestled with Redgauntlet for over a week before I finally managed to finish it, now I'm not looking forward to having to read it again for my exams in a few weeks (and I should consider myself lucky if I only have to reread it once). No matter how thoroughly I annotate a text the first time I read it, I always miss out on something (or a lot of things) and have to go back and reread the text. This isn't too bad when you're writing about poetry or a very good novella (e.g. Death in Venice, which I've read at least five times in the last two months), but 600 pages of verbose prose peppered with Scottish brogue and legal latinicisms is a different matter. And I'm saying all this because I suspect it has clouded my appreciation of Scott's last Jacobite novel (which to some is also his last masterpiece). Maybe in other circumstances I would have enjoyed it a lot more. There's a lot of food for thought about Scottish oral literature and history in it (which has made me want to seek out a few books on them) although there isn't much of a plot. There's also a sense of the book being very, well, Scottish, deeply planted in Scottish history and culture. Edinburgh is a lot more Scott-obsessed so maybe it's not that clear in Glasgow (or maybe it is since I don't walk past statues of Scott every day and still think of him as a real person not a myth?), but the fact that a lot of the action in Redgauntlet is set in Dumfries - which is where my uni has a second campus, does affect the way I read this book. If anything it makes me embarrassed of how little I know about Scottish history and how little I've seen of Scotland since I moved here.

It feels like Wandering Willie's Tale deserves a special mention. It appears somewhere about 1/3 through the book and is, by everybody's admission, the best part of it. So if Alan and Darsie's pointless banter annoys you and makes you want to abandon the book altogether, skip ahead and find the tale.

[Christine · Rating 3 out of 5]

BBC Classic Serial starts July 13


A free adaptation by Robin Brooks of Scott's novel - now set in the year 2035, in a fictional future Scotland.

This is the second season of adaptations of some of Sir Walter Scott's most popular novels, with David Tennant as Walter Scott.

Alan Fairford is destined to become a lawyer but is distracted from his studies by the sudden disappearance of his best friend Danny Latimer.

Danny's absence seems to be connected with the sudden appearance of Stuart Galloway - aka Redgauntlet - who has business with Alan's father, Alexander.

But who is Redgauntlet? And what is his mission?

Alan Fairford sets out to find out the answers and hopefully to rescue his friend.

Written by Robin Brooks

Produced and Directed by Clive Brill
A Brill production for BBC Radio 4.

[Even · Rating 4 out of 5]

Being the last of Scott's Jacobite novels, one might think that he might have started to go stale. Luckily, nothing could be further from the truth, and Redgauntlet is one of his most entertaining. Scott experiments with an epistolary style which breathes new life into this installment and produces a sense of intimacy he hadn't yet achieved. The hero (or heroes really) also break the typical Scott mold, in that they are recognizably flawed. Present are the improbable kinships that characterize Scott's novels. but at least they don't take the form of a dues ex machina.

Part mystery, part thriller, part action, and part comedy, Scott's tale of the last sputterings of the Jacobite casue may not be gripping, but it is certainly entertaining.

[Gail · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5 stars.
Redgauntlet starts somewhat unusually for a Scott book, with a series of epistolary “chapters” as the two main characters write letters back and forth. Darsie Latimer and his close friend, Alan Fairford, have both had preliminary education to becoming admitted to the bar as lawyers in Edinburgh. Darsie, of obscure origin and uncertain parentage, has come into some of his trust money and decided to take a holiday, while Alan has been required by his lawyer father to remain and finish his exams. The separation of the friends leads to the initial exchange of letters, which establish Darsie’s wondering about his true heritage and his adventures encountering a mysterious Scotch “Laird,” while Alan relates a growing suspicion that his own father knows something about Darsie’s identity he’s not telling.

Unbeknownst to either of them, the Jacobite lords who supported the campaign of Charles Stuart in 1745 are being stirred to action again, preparing to launch another attempt to overthrow the Hanoverian King George, and it is in the environs that are the centre of this conspiracy that Darsie unwittingly chooses to take his holiday. Darsie encounters more strange characters, including an aloof young lady in the Scotch Laird’s house and a wandering fiddler who tells him the curious and supernatural history of the house of “Redgauntlet.” These occurrences culminate into a genuinely dangerous conspiracy when a mysterious young lady in a green mantle (by description, soon identified as the same one Darsie saw with the Scotch Laird) goes to Alan and wishes him to warn his friend against crossing the border into England. I ask, is it really a Scott novel if there isn’t a young lady of uncertain identity and origin, who is “not like other young ladies” and provides some mode of instruction or secret knowledge to the inexperienced hero(es)? To suggest that a Scott novel could exist without some iteration of this character is tantamount to literary heresy.

Facetiousness aside, I found it compelling right from the beginning, as, instead of Scott’s usual lengthy scene-setting and character-describing slow buildup, we get a necessarily succinct relation of immediate events and characters. The method of two friends writing one another reveals their relationships, personalities, opinions, and perspectives with such natural clarity that I wish Scott wrote this way more often. It was a refreshing format, alternately epistolary and later including some chapters designed as journal entries penned by Darsie Latimer. Scott the narrator even makes an opaque reference to “my friend Wilkie” which I thought might refer to his contemporary writer of epistolary novels The Moonstone and The Woman in White, Wilkie Collins. Alas, it was not to last long—about a third of the way through Redgauntlet, the letters cease and a narrator inserts himself into the story, because, “a genuine correspondence of this kind can seldom be found to contain all in which it is necessary to instruct the reader for his full comprehension of the story.” I must admit that the switch put me off a little—I appreciate Scott’s semi-present narrative style, but sometimes it could use a more judicious editor to cut out the digressions and ramblings that inevitably accompany it. Though he implicitly considers these things “necessary to instruct the reader,” I think they are more often self-indulgent on the author’s part.

On the plus side, the third-person narrative allows for an amusing sub-plot with the intermission of the Peter Peebles court case that Alan Fairford’s father ropes him into representing, the case having grown to ridiculous proportions and spanning innumerable years somewhat like the Jarndyce and Jarndyce case of Dickens’ Bleak House. I enjoyed a lot of these details and smaller characters of this novel, too, and how they contribute to the whole. The friendship between Darsie and Alan was really charming and genuine—you could tell they grew up together and know all each other’s faults and foibles, in addition to being ready to drop everything to run to the rescue of the other in the event of real danger without question. The revelation of the identity of the lady in the green mantle is amusing and serves as a nice subversion of romantic trope-iness. The book felt shorter and less satisfying in the end than some others of Scott’s works, but I still enjoyed it and the innovative way (for Scott, anyway) it was written.

[Richard Rogers · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is mostly a kidnapping story, but it is also the story (forgive the spoilers in a 200-year-old novel) of Jacobites hoping for one final chance at restoring the Stuart monarchy, a generation after the failure of 1745. Most of it is told from the perspective of two friends: Darsie Lattimer, a young man ignorant of his family background, and Alan Fairford, a lawyer just embarking on his career. Neither is a Jacobite, but they become caught up in affairs that they can't get out of.

It is an epistolary novel in the beginning, and I felt pretty successfully so. But later the narrator breaks in to catch us up to things not available in a letter, and that works fine in an old novel like this. Darsie is visiting the south of Scotland, meeting odd people, wasting time, though he's warned he should head back home and should under no circumstances travel across the border into England. No one will tell him why, and by the time he has a clue he has been taken into custody. He's not harmed, but he has no way to free himself, and doesn't understand why he's being held. (His captor is from the family Redgauntlet, accounting for the title.)

Much of the novel follows the pattern of such romances, though there is a big digression when Alan has to take on his first case and we get stuck on old Peter Peebles and his interminable lawsuit. This section has its charms, but we really want to get back to Darsie and the woman in green and the secrets at the border. When Alan at last realizes he has to go in search of his friend, we meet my favorite character in the story, the captain of a smuggling ship, Nanty Ewart. A dangerous man of some learning and a bitter past, he has a deeply philosophic conversations with Alan, and I found him entertaining and interesting. A few bad decisions led him down a disappointing road, and he regrets the harm left in his wake. It turns him into a drunk; his drink, he says, is his best friend.

"Here is no lack of my best friend,"--touching his case-bottle;--"but to tell you a secret, he and I have got so used to each other, I begin to think he is like a professed joker, that makes your sides sore with laughing, if you see him but now and then; but if you take up house with him, he can only make your head stupid. But I warrant the old fellow is doing the best he can for me, after all."

"And what may that be?" said Fairford.

"He is KILLING me," replied Nanty Ewart; "and I am only sorry he is so long about it."

Nanty is present at the conclusion, and has a nice arc; I could have used him in more of the novel.

There is an unexpected but satisfying conclusion, and the story is tied up with a sort of afterword where we learn what happens to a few of the characters later, which is likewise satisfying. The only thing really lacking, though, is any great action on the part of the main characters. They attempt things but don't accomplish very much. (A little; it's not nothing.) I suppose that's why it's called Redgauntlet; that character is much more central to the action, even if he's not the hero.

This relative lack of impact from the main characters is, to me, a flaw, one I've complained about in other novels, and it should probably impel me to a 3 or a 2 even out of 5. But the truth is I always enjoy Scott's novels--his prose, his characters, his history--and I enjoyed this quite a bit. Nevertheless, if I were writing the treatment for a movie, I'd give the main characters a lot more agency.

Oh, and the blind fiddler who communicates with Darsie via ballads and song titles played outside the place he was being held could have had a bigger role later in the novel. That bit was awesome. I wanted more.

Scott fans and people interested in Jacobite history should enjoy this novel the way I did. Others might not care as much.

[Tim · Rating 4 out of 5]

There is just so much to enjoy about this book. Ever looking to try new things to keep his audience interested, the author tries his hand at an epistolary style of historical novel. The two correspondents are brothers who have been raised to be lawyers. Alan faithfully follows his father’s footsteps, but the Darcie, who is a foster child, has a wanderlust, and struggles to commit to his studies. The brotherly bond is so strong that when Darcie goes missing while on a holiday, Alan drops everything, including his first court case, to try to find Darcie. The book succeeds as an adventure story. And the book succeeds as historical fiction, in which the author paints a picture of the period after Culloden, when in some quarters hope in the lost cause remained strong. And the book succeeds in weaving in a host of well-drawn and interesting secondary characters, including Alan's first client, some Quakers, a wandering minstrel, a pirate sea captain, a mysterious woman in a green mantle, and of course Jacobites. And for good measure, the book throws in some interesting asides, such as the resentment of the traditional salmon fishermen who used spears towards progressive fishermen who cheated with their nets. Brilliantly written.

[Rick Silva · Rating 3 out of 5]

Scott's bit of alternate history tells of a (fictional) final attempt to restore Prince Charles Edward to the English throne, and how two young men from Edinburgh are swept up in the conspiracy, which is let by the title character, Lord Redgauntlet.

Beginning with Darsie Latimer leaving Edinburgh on a lark seeking adventure to the south, it follows his abduction, and the attempt by his dear friend Alan Fairford to discover his fate. By the end, family secrets have been revealed, conspiracies have been set into motion, and a secret meeting threatens civil war.

The pacing is a bit slow, and Darsie and Alan both spent a lot of time lamenting their respective circumstances, and neither of them quite ever manage to take much effective action to escape Lord Redgauntlet's clutches. Eventually, everything gets neatly wrapped up as the conspiracy falls apart before the book's history becomes TOO alternate.

I like the characters, especially Alan's unflinching loyalty to the somewhat flighty Darsie, and the partially-epistolary format of the novel is interesting. It's a bit dense in places, and I would have enjoyed it a bit more if the main characters had a more active and less spectator role in the conclusion.

[James Anderson · Rating 5 out of 5]

I regret not having read/attempted to read Scott much earlier as this was an excellent read. As Historical novels go, it was one of the best I have read. It is clear that it was written in an era where it was expected to be read by those who had a "classical" education as the protagonists generally, rather than use their own words, throw lines from the bible or Shakespeare back and forth. However, the editor's notes (and Scott's own) were always at hand to explain and indicate the origin of these along with access to some of the use of long since retired Scottish proverbs. There is also a fair bit of scots used, particularly by one of the characters, however, fortunately I was able to deal with most of that (although non-scots may have to resort to the glossary for assistance). Apart from the characters appearing here, there and everywhere which was not so credible, the main thrust of the novel was quite plausible and in the main drew from actual historical events and reference to real characters. This book has inspired me now to read more non-fiction regarding the central theme and also to check out some of the other historical novels written by Scott.

[conor · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is fun! Epistolary, plus an embedded diary (like The Tenant of Wildfell Hall). Doubles and secret identities here too, with lots of meta commentary about history (and its relationship to fiction, since Scott is presenting this as a historical novel, but it’s history about an invented Jacobin rebellion). We also have song lyrics throughout and even an entire short story packed in the middle (often excerpted). Some compelling work to be done thinking about the form in relation to the content, but also the homosocial bond between Alan and Darsie (and the various male-male friendships/relationships throughout the text and what they suggest about maleness, friendship, love, etc.). Oh, the book is also very interested in questions of fate and free will (and author/God’s place in those discussions).

[Lisa Marie Gabriel · Rating 1 out of 5]

I really struggled to get into this. The layout of thirteen epistolary chapters followed by twenty three normal chapters is off-putting to say the least. The subject matter is dear to my heart but it takes so very long to get to it. I don't mind epistolary fiction per se (Dracula is brilliant) but the gossip contained therein, combined with legalese and old fashioned syntax, was just too much for my sensibilities and, having expected an adventure novel, I was so very disappointed. I also found the Latin and Gaelic expressions in capital letters took my attention away from what mattered within those chapters. Maybe I will get back to it when my mood is better but it killed it for me.

[Paul · Rating 3 out of 5]

I read this as I stayed in what was the inn at Skinburness on the Cumbrian side of the Solway Firth that features in the final scenes of the novel. It is never easy reading Scott because of his career convoluted style but always pays off because he is a great storyteller. The action of the novel centres around an imagined final Jacobite rebellion several decades after Culloden in 1746. The first part of the book is in letter form between the lead characters Darsie Latimer and Alan Fairford. I admit to skimming it as the real action starts in the narrative second half of the novel. Not my favourite Scott but glad I persisted.

[Audrey · Rating 4 out of 5]

Read it because it was the only Walter Scott book to elicit a queer reading (that I know of) but this is so mild compared to the male homoeroticism in The Talisman which makes me feel like l've been punched in the face.

The first half is too slow paced for my liking, but the plot picks up speed afterwards. The Darsie crossdressing plotline is... truly something to behold. It has some really interesting bits and bobs for gender and queer studies!

[Peveril · Rating 3 out of 5]

First parts seemed to take ages - Darsie Latimer's peregrinations around Dumfriesshire - pace/interest picked up when Alan Fairford came in search of his friend and interacted with the magistrates of Dumfries, with smuggler Nanty Ewart, and encountered the disguised Father Buonaventure and the rebel convocation.

[Matthew B. · Rating 4 out of 5]

A character in To the Lighthouse (1927) remarks that "people don't read Scott anymore." True enough, no doubt, but nearly a hundred years later I still have a much easier, more enjoyable, and overall better time with Scott than with Virginia Woolf.

[Greta Hempel · Rating 3 out of 5]

Most of the book was really good, but it seemed like the author lost inspiration at the end and just gave up.

[Mathilde · Rating 4 out of 5]

Loved it !

[Laura · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5/5