A tedious classic

A review of "Heart Of Midlothian" by Walter Scott

Written in 1818, "The Heart Of Midlothian" is one of the most famous works of the great Scottish Writer, Sir Walter Scott. It is set largely in Scotland in the time between the Jacobite rebellions of 1715 and 1745 and revolves around the Edinburgh riots of 1736 that saw the lynching of John Porteous, Captain of the City Guard, and the subsequent retaliation by the English Crown. Intimately connected with this is the story of Effie Deans, condemned to death on the assumption of having her child killed, despite a total lack of evidence and the efforts of her sister Jeanie to see her freed. Incidentally the "Heart of Midlothian" was the Edinburgh Tollhouse or Jail, which was later pulled down and removed.

It is a longish read at 507 pages, but by no means long compared to many of the bloated works of recent years. It took me a very long time to read, not because of its length but because its style was so dry and tedious and so full of unnecessary detail as to prevent me reading more than a chapter or two at a time, and there are 52 chapters. A random example:

"There was not a window in all the lofty tenements around it, or in the steep and crooked street called the Bow, by which the fatal procession was to descend, that was not absolutely filled with spectators. The uncommon height and antique appearance of these houses, some of which were formerly the property of the Knights Templars, and the Knights of St John, and still exhibit on their fronts and gables the iron cross of these orders, gave additional effect to the scene in itself so striking."

There's nothing wrong with this language, and the excessive detail may be interesting to some, but for me it makes dreary read.

Scott was a lawyer by trade, and he carries his work with him in this novel. Not only does it read as though declaimed by a barrister at the Assizes, but it is full of lawyers, would be lawyers, lawyer's humour and lawyer's Latin. For example:

"He has been a candidate for our remedium miserabile" said Mr Hardie, "commonly called a cessio bonorum. As there are divines who have doubted the eternity of future punishments, so the Scotch lawyers seem to have thought that the crime of poverty might be atoned for by something short of perpetual imprisonment. After a month's confinement, you must know, a prisoner for debt is entitled, on a sufficient statement to our Supreme Court, setting forth the amount of his funds, and the nature of his misfortunes, and surrendering all his effects to his creditors, to claim to be discharged from prison".
"I had heard", I replied, "of such a humane regulation".
"Yes", said Halkit, "and the beauty of it is, as the foreign fellow said, you may get the cessio when the bonorums are all spent. ..."

The characters Halkit and Hardie and all their legal carry-on in the first chapter are entirely unnecessary as is the character Bartoline Saddletree, who's utterances throughout the book are tedious in the extreme, not only to the reader, but also to the other characters who are forced to listen to him. Obviously Scott had not the art of self editing, being entirely unable to cull his own dross, and the book is much the weaker for it.

And now we come to the matter of religion. There is a great deal of religion in this book, and in my opinion at least, a great deal too much. I know that many folk in those days took the cult of Jehovah far more seriously than they do today, but it makes for boring reading. There can surely be few indeed who care a fig about the Cameronian Covenanters and their nit picking issues with the Protestant Church. For example:

"There remained a third stumbling block - the oaths to government exacted from the established clergymen, in which they acknowledge an Erastian king and parliament, and homologate the incorporating union between England and Scotland, through which the latter kingdom had become part and parcel of the former, wherein Prelacy, the sister of Popery, had made fast her throne, and elevated the horns of her mitre. These were the symptoms of defection which had often made David cry out. "My bowels, my bowels! I am pained at the very heart!" ...
These oaths were, therefore, a deep compliance and a dire abomination - a sin and a snare, and a danger and a defection. But this shibboleth was not always exacted."...

There may well have been people like the tiresome David Deans, and modern students of Christian history may be fascinated with the intricacies of Protestant doctrine but for the rest of us it just gets in the way of the story.

Scott may, perhaps, have excuses for the above flaws, but what he can not excuse himself from is the books greatest flaw: the one dimensionality of the main characters. Jeanie the heroine is, to put it baldly, a drip. A courageous, do it herself woman, willing and able to risk her life and honour to save her sister. A steadfast Protestant willing to let her sister be sentenced to death rather than tell a lie before God. A loyal lover, prepared to wait years for her boring boyfriend to get a decent job before marrying him, meanwhile denying the suit of the local Laird. A fine cheesemaker and exemplary housekeeper. Wise confidant, providential saver, loving mother, dedicated Christian and dutiful wife. She never puts a foot out of line, never learns anything and never has any fun in the entire book! What a drip!

Much the same can be same of her eventual husband Reuben Butler. A struggling school teacher and cleric. He has a smaller part but is similarly a paragon of virtue and dull as dishwater!

The characters of people like David Deans and Bartoline Saddletree are "enlivened" by making them tiresome. The Duke of Argyle and the Queen of England are paragons of nobility: generosity, judgement and grace. Too pat and one dimensional Scott!

It is the people of arbitrary morality that have the most rounded characters, such as Jem Ratcliffe, George Staunton, Duncan Knockdunder and Effie Deans herself, yet in the whole book it is only Duncan that has any real zest for life.

Inexcusable Mr Scott, to fill a book full of dull characters. Surely 18th century Scotland can't have been THAT dreary!!!

The other inexcusable flaw in this work is the way it all turns out. Not only is it predictably pat, but it is RELIGIOUSLY pat. Any character that has done wrong comes to a bad end. (With the exception of Ratcliffe). Obvious villains like Meg Murdockson and George Staunton are executed or die in battle. Misled unfortunates like Staunton's heir and Madge Wildfire die in misadventure. Even Effie Deans, guilty of nothing more than sex before marriage, cannot escape the misery of her sins and ends up in a convent. Meanwhile the religious zealots are elevated and live long and rewarding? lives. It's enough to make one want to vomit. Considering Scott came from a legal background and was a deputy sheriff I fail to see why he should exhibit such a narrow minded fundamentalist Christianity. Alas for this book.

OK, enough knocking, is there anything good about this famous novel? Well yes of course, fortunately there is.

Firstly, although dry and boring, it is very well written. Scott was an intelligent, educated man, and although his view of the world is narrow, it is, at least historically accurate and detailed.

Secondly, for those of us who love Scotland it is wonderful to hear the Scottish dialect, that permeates almost every page. For example the worthy Duncan:

"Fat ta deil, Mr Archibald," answered the Captain of Knockdunder, "wad ye hae them ring the bell before I am ready to gang to kirk? I wad gar the bedral eat the bell-rope, if he took ony sic freedom. But if ye want to hear the bell, I will just show mysell on the knowe-head, and it will begin jowing forthwith."

Or the loyal Jeanie:

"But when the hour of trouble comes to the mind or to the body - and seldom may it visit your Leddyship - and when the hour of death comes, that comes to high and low - lang and late may it be yours - O, my Leddy, then it isna what we hae dune for oursells, but what we hae dune for others, that we think on maist pleasantly. And the thoughts that ye hae intervened to spare the puir thing's life will be sweeter in that hour, come when it may, than if a word of your mouth could hang the haill Porteous mob at the tail of ae tow."

Thirdly, although Scott has done his best to obscure them, the events themselves are quite interesting. In better hands this book could have been a ripping yarn.

And that's it folks.

To conclude: I am giving this book 4 stars because it is a classic that has stood the test of time. Scott pioneered the historical novel. His work must be taken in context with its time, it cannot be judged as though it were written last year. Had it been written last year, it would not have been published and I would not be bothering to write this review.

This book is indispensable if one is interested in Scottish literature. It would be a fascinating read if one were interested in old Presbyterian dogma or 18th century Scottish law. If you want a ripping historical page-turner I suggest you look elsewhere.

The flaws exhibited in this novel are very serious, including the fatal crime of boring the reader, but the erudite may find them counterbalanced by Scott's learned prose and punctilious historical detail. In the end however it is the weight of history and this book's place in it that makes this book worthwhile.

4/5

Warren Mars - December 11, 2007