Ivanhoe

In depicting the way the Normans treat their captives, Scott mentions real examples of the cruelty of European imprisonment and torture in the Medieval period. Especially unfortunate is Isaac, who is treated worse than any of the other captives and is about to be subjected to torture. The narrator again highlights the persecution of the Jewish people in Medieval Europe, with nearly all his characters—including his protagonists—feeling at least some degree of disdain toward Isaac and Rebecca because of their religion. Increasingly, however, the narrator makes it clear that these prejudices are largely unfounded. Isaac may be stingy and avaricious (qualities that Scott’s narrator has explicitly framed as necessary responses to antisemitic persecution), but he obviously values his daughter above everything else, and is even willing to undergo torture to prevent her from suffering dishonor. Isaac’s daughter Rebecca also displays remarkable bravery. She shows that she prefers death to dishonor when she threatens to throw herself from the tower if Bois-Guilbert attempts to rape her, and later Ivanhoe marvels at her courage as she watches the battle from the window, exposing herself to the flying missiles so that she can update him on what is happening.

Cedric’s bondsmen and the outlaws led by Locksley also display honor and courage that—in stories of the Medieval period—were typically seen as the exclusive province of the knightly class and the nobility. In setting out to rescue Cedric, Wamba and Gurth are not only brave but also wise and intelligent. Though they can easily live as free men now that their enslaver is gone, they both prefer to rescue him, as he had always treated them well (and as they seem to find freedom burdensome with Cedric in captivity). Gurth, who had been so angry at Cedric only a little earlier when he bound him and nearly killed his dog Fangs, now forgets his anger, and does everything in his power to help Cedric. Wamba nearly forfeits his life to infiltrate Torquilstone and trade clothes with Cedric so that he can get away. The outlaws, meanwhile, take their honor very seriously too. Locksley, for instance, decides to help the captives in part because he feels that he and his men have dishonored themselves by employing deceit to capture Cedric and his party.

In contrast to the bravery and honor displayed by these characters of the “lower” classes is the dishonor and cruelty of the aristocratic Normans. Front-de-Boeuf, who is ready to torture Isaac to get what he wants, represents pure greed and savagery. Bois-Guilbert and Bracy are less one-dimensional than Front-de-Boeuf, both of them softening when they witness the despair and courage of their respective love interests. Yet neither Bracy nor Bois-Guilbert displays the honor idealized in the code of chivalry of the Medieval period. Bois-Guilbert is a particularly effective illustration of the abuses of the Normans in the novel, explaining frankly to Rebecca that he is driven first and foremost by ambition and that he will let nothing stand in his way—not even honor or religion.

Gender roles and expectations also feature prominently in this part of the novel. Rowena and Rebecca represent two different kinds of female characters. The difference between them is best illustrated by how each of them responds to the hopelessness of her situation—Rowena by dissolving into tears and Rebecca by remaining calm and showing herself ready to take action (by killing herself) if she must. Another female character who plays an important role in Volume 2 is Ulrica, the daughter of a Saxon nobleman murdered by the Normans. Ulrica’s confessions to Cedric showcase her own feelings of guilt, a guilt that originates in her decision to live a life of shame and dishonor rather than kill herself (as Rebecca threatens to do in a similar situation). Ulrica’s situation illustrates the cruelty of the Normans and their ancestors, but it also shows something about the complexity of human nature, which is so often driven to survive at any cost. In characters like Ulrica, we get a hint of how unrealistic and misogynistic the ideals of chivalry often are in practice, a theme that is explored later in the conversation between Rebecca and Ivanhoe. For Ivanhoe, chivalry is a “pure light” (249) that distinguishes good from evil by prioritizing honor over life. For Rebecca, on the other hand, true honor and the “glory” prized by chivalry are different things, with glory representing an illusory ideal that has little intrinsic value and which often leads to little more than “a life spent miserably [to] make others miserable” (249). Much more important, in Rebecca’s view, are “domestic love, kindly affection, peace and happiness” (249). Ivanhoe, of course, cannot understand or sympathize with Rebecca’s argument, mistakenly thinking that Rebecca simply does not understand honor or courage (a view very much contradicted by Rebecca’s earlier behavior, especially in her confrontation with Bois-Guilbert). But the reader, unlike Ivanhoe, can read this scene as an important reflection on the narrowness of the ideals of chivalry, and a reminder that the narrator takes a broader approach to values such as honor and courage.