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The Lay of the Last Minstrel (1805). By: Walter Scott: Poetry
Sir Walter Scott, 1st Baronet, FRSE (15 August 1771 - 21 September 1832) was a Scottish historical novelist, playwright and poet with many contemporary readers in Europe, Australia, and North America. Scott's novels and poetry are still read, and many of his works remain classics of both English-language literature and of Scottish literature. Famous titles include Ivanhoe, Rob Roy, Old Mortality, The Lady of the Lake, Waverley, The Heart of Midlothian and The Bride of Lammermoor. Although primarily remembered for his extensive literary works and his political engagement, Scott was an advocate, judge and legal administrator by profession, and throughout his career combined his writing and editing work with his daily occupation as Clerk of Session and Sheriff-Depute of Selkirkshire. A prominent member of the Tory establishment in Edinburgh, Scott was an active member of the Highland Society and served a long term as President of the Royal Society of Edinburgh (1820-32). In 1796, Scott's friend James Ballantyne[16] founded a printing press in Kelso, in the Scottish Borders. Through Ballantyne, Scott was able to publish his first works, including "Glenfinlas" and "The Eve of St. John," and his poetry then began to bring him to public attention. In 1805, The Lay of the Last Minstrel captured wide public imagination, and his career as a writer was established in spectacular fashion. He published many other poems over the next ten years, including the popular The Lady of the Lake, printed in 1810 and set in the Trossachs. Portions of the German translation of this work were set to music by Franz Schubert. One of these songs, "Ellens dritter Gesang," is popularly labelled as "Schubert's Ave Maria." Beethoven's opus 108 "Twenty-Five Scottish Songs" includes 3 folk songs whose words are by Walter Scott. Marmion, published in 1808, produced lines that have become proverbial. Canto VI. Stanza 17 reads: Yet Clare's sharp questions must I shun Must separate Constance from the nun Oh! what a tangled web we weave When first we practise to deceive! A Palmer too! No wonder why I felt rebuked beneath his eye. In 1809 Scott persuaded James Ballantyne and his brother to move to Edinburgh and to establish their printing press there. He became a partner in their business. As a political conservative, Scott helped to found the Tory Quarterly Review, a review journal to which he made several anonymous contributions. Scott was also a contributor to the Edinburgh Review, which espoused Whig views. Scott was ordained as an elder in the Presbyterian Church of Duddington and sat in the General Assembly for a time as representative elder of the burgh of Selkirk. When the lease of Ashestiel expired in 1811 Scott bought Cartley Hole Farm, on the south bank of the River Tweed nearer Melrose. The farm had the nickname of "Clarty Hole," and when Scott built a family cottage there in 1812 he named it "Abbotsford." He continued to expand the estate, and built Abbotsford House in a series of extensions. In 1813 Scott was offered the position of Poet Laureate. He declined, due to concerns that "such an appointment would be a poisoned chalice," as the Laureateship had fallen into disrepute, due to the decline in quality of work suffered by previous title holders,," as a succession of poetasters had churned out conventional and obsequious odes on royal occasions." He sought advice from the Duke of Buccleuch, who counseled him to retain his literary independence, and the position went to Scott's friend, Robert Southey.
84 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1805
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About the author
Walter Scott
11.3k books1,965 followersLibrarian 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.
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.
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Displaying 1 - 22 of 22 reviews
January 23, 2021
The Lay of the Last Minstrel was Scott's first long narrative poem, published in 1805. I didn't enjoy it quite as much as Marmion or Lady of the Lake, but it was still a great story "of Border Chivalry & enchantment". Some of the verses felt a little awkward to me...at first I thought it was just Scott's inexperience. However, he says in the preface that as it was "intended to illustrate the customs and manners which anciently prevailed on the Borders of England and Scotland....the plan of the Ancient Metrical Romance was adopted, which allows greater latitude, in this respect, than would be consistent with the dignity of a regular Poem."
My favorite part was actually the Sixth Canto, which opens with the well-known lines:
Breathes there the man, with soul so dead,
Who never to himself hath said,
This is my own, my native land?
And this verse was quite powerful as well...
Harold was born where restless seas
Howl round the storm - swept Orcades;
Where erst Saint Clairs held princely sway
O'er isle and islet, strait and bay;
Still nods their palace to its fall,
Thy pride and sorrow, fair Kirkwall!
Thence oft he marked fierce Pentland rave,
As if grim Odin rode her wave,
And watched the whilst , with visage pale
And throbbing heart, the struggling sail;
For all of wonderful and wild
Had rapture for the lonely child.
My favorite part was actually the Sixth Canto, which opens with the well-known lines:
Breathes there the man, with soul so dead,
Who never to himself hath said,
This is my own, my native land?
And this verse was quite powerful as well...
Harold was born where restless seas
Howl round the storm - swept Orcades;
Where erst Saint Clairs held princely sway
O'er isle and islet, strait and bay;
Still nods their palace to its fall,
Thy pride and sorrow, fair Kirkwall!
Thence oft he marked fierce Pentland rave,
As if grim Odin rode her wave,
And watched the whilst , with visage pale
And throbbing heart, the struggling sail;
For all of wonderful and wild
Had rapture for the lonely child.
June 16, 2019
The writing is amazing! But the story’s kinda weird. I actually know Walter (Wat) Scott Of Buccleuch and his widow, Janet Beaton, from the phenomenal Lymond Chronicles by Dorothy Dunnett, so I wasn’t going into this cold. But Writer Scott throws some creepy gothic elements into the story (ala Christabel from what I’ve read) of feuding border families. So there’s witchery, a secret book of magic, and a goblin page who kidnaps children. I felt these elements were distracting but that might be because they were so unexpected.
The poem opens with a frame story of the old minstrel repaying kindness/shelter with a story, then quickly gets into the murder of Wat Scott of Buccleuch and its effect on the star-crossed lovers, Margaret and Henry Cranston.
Overall, I loved this and am duly impressed by the things which make up a long narrative poem: the rhyme and rhythm. How do they do that??!!
The poem opens with a frame story of the old minstrel repaying kindness/shelter with a story, then quickly gets into the murder of Wat Scott of Buccleuch and its effect on the star-crossed lovers, Margaret and Henry Cranston.
Overall, I loved this and am duly impressed by the things which make up a long narrative poem: the rhyme and rhythm. How do they do that??!!
March 27, 2016
It was so refreshing to return to early 19th c. poetry. I truly enjoyed Scott’s The Lay of the Last Minstrel. It was an interesting story of romance, border clashes and even a little sorcery. In Canto II, we hear of two stealing into a crypt at night to pry a book of magic from a dead man’s grip. The rhythm of this poem is very fast. I felt pulled through the whole work instead of only reading my way.
But, my initial draw to this work, and one that still remains strongly within me, was in the first stanza of the 6th canto:
But, my initial draw to this work, and one that still remains strongly within me, was in the first stanza of the 6th canto:
High though his titles, proud his name
Boundless his wealth as wish can claim;
Despite those titles, power, and pelf,
The wretch, concerted all in self,
Living, shall forfeit fair renown,
And, doubly dying, shall go down
To the vile dust, from whence he sprung,
Unwept, unhonoured, and unsung.
(p. 176)
December 21, 2021
A very well done narrative poem from 1805, before Scott embarked on his novels of the Waverley series. It is set in the mid 16th century, and in his preface, the author claims that 'the description of scenery and manners was more the object of the Author than a combined and regular narrative.' After being somewhat underwhelmed by his Marmion and Lady of the Lake, I semi-groaned when reading this, as background colour seemed to tower over foreground action in these other narrative poems. However, I was pleasantly surprised.
Branksome Hall is the home of the house of Buccleuch, headed by the Lady. Surnamed Scott, they are moss-warriors, borderers or, more honestly, brigands. Eternally feuding with the Kerrs, they inhabit a territory known as the Disputed Land - i.e., lands which both Scotland and England claimed. The real story, though, as told by an elderly wandering minstrel, is of the love between the Scott daughter, Margaret, and Baron Cranstoun who is, unfortunately, of English descent. This Romeo-and-Juliet type situation is secondary to the machinations of one of Scott's characteristically imaginative creations- an impish dwarf, servant to the Baron, and continual maker of rather vicious mischief.
WIlliam of Delomaine, one of the Scottish clan, gets a book of magic from Melrose Abbey.
There is a violent encounter between him and Cranstoun. A wounded body is left outside Branksome Hall, a child is abducted and abandoned in the surrounding forests, another child in the Hall starts misbehaving rather badly. Margaret sees her lover appear within the halls of his purported enemy's home. War clouds gather, as do clans from the surrounding vicinity, as an English army of 3000 men approaches. A singular challenge is made for a one-on-one trial of strength between a wronged English lord and the alleged slayer of his brother. Magical revelations are made at the conclusion of this contest and a resolution made to the thwarted love affair.
All in all, a galloping good story.
But this story is secondary to its teller, the charming minstrel of the title. In his own words, 'My hairs are grey, my limbs are old/My heart is dead, my veins are cold/I may not, must not, sing of love.' A former warrior himself, he has lost his only son in battle. He proves himself to be partial to both wine and praise, and the beginning and concluding stanzas of each of the poem's six cantos show Scott's profound respect for the tradition followed by such men. When he dies the Maid, the Knight, the Chief - all the protagonists of his verses, will remain unknown.
To quote one of the poem's many paeans to this craft:
His legendary song can tell
Of ancient deeds, so long forgot;
Of feuds, whose memory was not;
Of forests, now laid waste and bare;
Of towers, which harbor now the hare;
Of manners, long since chang'd and gone,
Of chiefs, who under their grey stone
So long had slept that fickle fame
Had blotted from her rolls their name
And twines round some new minion's head
The fading wreath for which they bled:
In sooth, 'twas strange, this old man's verse
Could call them from their marble hearse.
The only fault making me give this work four - rather than five - stars is Scott's antiquarian tendencies to indulge himself in truly ponderous footnotes. Each of the six cantos has a verse section of around 600 lines, followed by an average of ten pages of tightly single-spaced footnotes, relating tales, anecdotes, expostulations and whatnot related to the many and varied proper nouns of the poem. They certainly require a lot of discipline to work through, but are occasionally enlightening.
The novel I finished just before this one, Gregory's Lady of the Rivers, refers to the ghost of a black dog which haunts Eleanor Cobham in Peel Castle on the Isle of Man. Imagine my surprise when a two and half page footnote by Scott from 1805 referred to the exact same phenomenon (without even mentioning Cobham)!
If one was to read only one of Scott's narrative poems, this is the one (so far in my reading) I'd recommend.
Branksome Hall is the home of the house of Buccleuch, headed by the Lady. Surnamed Scott, they are moss-warriors, borderers or, more honestly, brigands. Eternally feuding with the Kerrs, they inhabit a territory known as the Disputed Land - i.e., lands which both Scotland and England claimed. The real story, though, as told by an elderly wandering minstrel, is of the love between the Scott daughter, Margaret, and Baron Cranstoun who is, unfortunately, of English descent. This Romeo-and-Juliet type situation is secondary to the machinations of one of Scott's characteristically imaginative creations- an impish dwarf, servant to the Baron, and continual maker of rather vicious mischief.
WIlliam of Delomaine, one of the Scottish clan, gets a book of magic from Melrose Abbey.
There is a violent encounter between him and Cranstoun. A wounded body is left outside Branksome Hall, a child is abducted and abandoned in the surrounding forests, another child in the Hall starts misbehaving rather badly. Margaret sees her lover appear within the halls of his purported enemy's home. War clouds gather, as do clans from the surrounding vicinity, as an English army of 3000 men approaches. A singular challenge is made for a one-on-one trial of strength between a wronged English lord and the alleged slayer of his brother. Magical revelations are made at the conclusion of this contest and a resolution made to the thwarted love affair.
All in all, a galloping good story.
But this story is secondary to its teller, the charming minstrel of the title. In his own words, 'My hairs are grey, my limbs are old/My heart is dead, my veins are cold/I may not, must not, sing of love.' A former warrior himself, he has lost his only son in battle. He proves himself to be partial to both wine and praise, and the beginning and concluding stanzas of each of the poem's six cantos show Scott's profound respect for the tradition followed by such men. When he dies the Maid, the Knight, the Chief - all the protagonists of his verses, will remain unknown.
To quote one of the poem's many paeans to this craft:
His legendary song can tell
Of ancient deeds, so long forgot;
Of feuds, whose memory was not;
Of forests, now laid waste and bare;
Of towers, which harbor now the hare;
Of manners, long since chang'd and gone,
Of chiefs, who under their grey stone
So long had slept that fickle fame
Had blotted from her rolls their name
And twines round some new minion's head
The fading wreath for which they bled:
In sooth, 'twas strange, this old man's verse
Could call them from their marble hearse.
The only fault making me give this work four - rather than five - stars is Scott's antiquarian tendencies to indulge himself in truly ponderous footnotes. Each of the six cantos has a verse section of around 600 lines, followed by an average of ten pages of tightly single-spaced footnotes, relating tales, anecdotes, expostulations and whatnot related to the many and varied proper nouns of the poem. They certainly require a lot of discipline to work through, but are occasionally enlightening.
The novel I finished just before this one, Gregory's Lady of the Rivers, refers to the ghost of a black dog which haunts Eleanor Cobham in Peel Castle on the Isle of Man. Imagine my surprise when a two and half page footnote by Scott from 1805 referred to the exact same phenomenon (without even mentioning Cobham)!
If one was to read only one of Scott's narrative poems, this is the one (so far in my reading) I'd recommend.
October 20, 2017
Popular in its own time as an evocative depiction of the age of chivalry in the Scottish/English borderlands, it is now of interest mainly for its place in Scott's personal aesthetic development and the development of Romanticism and the Gothic. There is a pull to the epic verse that draws the reader ever on, though I often found myself drifting out of making any coherence of the plot. It is largely a bravado act of historical drag, as Scott convincingly passes for a medieval minstrel delivering a border romance. What did such anachronism mean to "modern" readers at the height of the Napoleonic Wars? No doubt, it must be read both as a major contribution to the Gothic aesthetic and a work of Romantic nationalism, imagining a new ancient literature to ground a sense of Scottish identity. Like so much of this nascent nationalistic literature, it is quintessentially paradoxical, patriotic even as it is melancholic or nostalgic, looking forward by way of looking backward.
August 19, 2015
Highly recommend Peter Tucker's audiobook for Librivox, coming soon to the catalog for free download.
January 2, 2018
A great epic gothic-style poem. I got a little lost within the poem and relied a lot on the footnotes to figure out what was going on.
August 17, 2008
It’s been a while since I made the effort to read an epic poem, but I’m glad I read this one. Since Melrose Abbey plays a tremendous role in this story, I wish I’d read it before I visited Melrose Abbey on my way to Edinburgh, one year. My stop was merely a brief meditative side-trek on a pilgrimage designed to visit Middleham Castle and Barnard Castle as part of my fascination with Richard III.
This epic is the story of a lady who is trying to avoid being married off to one of the enemies of her late husband. She sends a messenger to Melrose Abbey to recover a tome of disconcerting magic:
”For this will be St. Michael’s night,
And, though stars be dim, the moon is bright;
And the Cross, of bloody red,
Will point to the grave of the mighty dead.”
One of the great surprises to me was that this was the poem with the famous line:
”Breathes there the man, with soul so dead,
Who never to himself hath said,
This is my own, my native land!
Whose heart hath ne’er within him burn’d,
As home his footsteps he hath turn’d,
From wandering on a foreign strand!
If such there breathe, go, mark him well;
For him no Minstrel raptures swell;
High though his titles, proud his name,
Boundless his wealth as wish can claim;
Despite those titles, power, and pelf,
The wretch, concentred all in self,
Living, shall forfeit fair renown,
And doubly dying, shall go down
To the vile dust, from whence he sprung,
Unwept, unhonor’d, and unsung.”
Of course, I felt like the trading of sagas by the various minstrels at the wedding felt like “filler” (and I suppose it was), but Scott certainly did a good job of capturing the idea of an old minstrel straining his voice and continuing to retune his old, warped harp in order to try to hold his noble audience. On the other hand, I particularly enjoyed Scott’s reuse of religious ritual like the requiem’s “Dies irae” or the “reverse-apocalypse” where the parched scroll of the flaming heavens closes rather than opening to contrast with the mysterious appearance of the dead (at a vital point in the epic). I thought the whole ending was an anti-climax, however.
As for the stories, “My Aunt Margaret’s Mirror” is a remembrance of the author’s spinster aunt. That the real aunt was a little eccentric could be demonstrated by her propensity to read from a lit taper resting in a human skull. When one night, the skull moved seemingly of its own accord and landed on the floor, said aunt was sharp enough to discover that a rat had infiltrated her “memento mori” and caused it to move according to its own (or in this case, the rat’s) designs.
Ironically, the aunt in this story is rather disposed to superstition and seems unlikely to have uncovered such a phenomenon as the real aunt exposed. Her reticence to look in her looking glass of an evening, as though the specter of death itself might be lurking in the shadows behind her or some ghostly apparition should use the large mirror as a portal into the living world, forms an integral part of the story.
My favorite line in the story was, “…occasionally prefer the twilight of illusion to the steady light of reason.” This seems appropriate in that the story shares of an Italian doctor with, unexpectedly, Protestant leanings had a propensity for dabbling in the darker arts. He used a mirror to divine or scrye the fate of a husband in foreign military service. At this point, the story seemed most interesting, but the remainder served as an anti-climax.
“The Tapestried Chamber” involves a general returned from the American War of Independence who discovers that an old school chum has inherited an amazing estate. As would be expected, there is the anticipated nocturnal visitation and brief revelation of its source. There is nothing very remarkable in the story, though it could serve as “color” for a similar, but extended and more active tale.
“Death of the Laird’s Jock” is as fascinating for its introduction as it is for the tale itself. The introduction shares of Bernard Gilpin, a Protestant clergyman in the Scots border areas who was horrified to see a mailed gauntlet hanging above an altar in challenge to those who would defy its position. Gilpin felt it was sacrilege, placing one’s own prowess at arms versus the might of God. Upon being told that removing the gauntlet consisted of a challenge to the mightiest knight in the region, Gilpin informed all who would listen that he himself had removed the gauntlet. The knight was too ashamed to challenge the clergyman. Hence, the sanctuary was restored to its symbolic purpose in pointing toward God.
The eponymous protagonist of this story was, of course, named Jock. He was distinguished from other’s with this common name by being identified as “The Laird’s Jock,” essentially, “The lord’s son, Jock.” In some ways, this may well be an etiological tale for the origin of a place known as “Laird’s Jock’s stone.” Alas, the resolution here is also quite predictable, but the redeeming quality is that it provides an easily re-worked set-up for a new artifact in game design and story for my writers group.
This epic is the story of a lady who is trying to avoid being married off to one of the enemies of her late husband. She sends a messenger to Melrose Abbey to recover a tome of disconcerting magic:
”For this will be St. Michael’s night,
And, though stars be dim, the moon is bright;
And the Cross, of bloody red,
Will point to the grave of the mighty dead.”
One of the great surprises to me was that this was the poem with the famous line:
”Breathes there the man, with soul so dead,
Who never to himself hath said,
This is my own, my native land!
Whose heart hath ne’er within him burn’d,
As home his footsteps he hath turn’d,
From wandering on a foreign strand!
If such there breathe, go, mark him well;
For him no Minstrel raptures swell;
High though his titles, proud his name,
Boundless his wealth as wish can claim;
Despite those titles, power, and pelf,
The wretch, concentred all in self,
Living, shall forfeit fair renown,
And doubly dying, shall go down
To the vile dust, from whence he sprung,
Unwept, unhonor’d, and unsung.”
Of course, I felt like the trading of sagas by the various minstrels at the wedding felt like “filler” (and I suppose it was), but Scott certainly did a good job of capturing the idea of an old minstrel straining his voice and continuing to retune his old, warped harp in order to try to hold his noble audience. On the other hand, I particularly enjoyed Scott’s reuse of religious ritual like the requiem’s “Dies irae” or the “reverse-apocalypse” where the parched scroll of the flaming heavens closes rather than opening to contrast with the mysterious appearance of the dead (at a vital point in the epic). I thought the whole ending was an anti-climax, however.
As for the stories, “My Aunt Margaret’s Mirror” is a remembrance of the author’s spinster aunt. That the real aunt was a little eccentric could be demonstrated by her propensity to read from a lit taper resting in a human skull. When one night, the skull moved seemingly of its own accord and landed on the floor, said aunt was sharp enough to discover that a rat had infiltrated her “memento mori” and caused it to move according to its own (or in this case, the rat’s) designs.
Ironically, the aunt in this story is rather disposed to superstition and seems unlikely to have uncovered such a phenomenon as the real aunt exposed. Her reticence to look in her looking glass of an evening, as though the specter of death itself might be lurking in the shadows behind her or some ghostly apparition should use the large mirror as a portal into the living world, forms an integral part of the story.
My favorite line in the story was, “…occasionally prefer the twilight of illusion to the steady light of reason.” This seems appropriate in that the story shares of an Italian doctor with, unexpectedly, Protestant leanings had a propensity for dabbling in the darker arts. He used a mirror to divine or scrye the fate of a husband in foreign military service. At this point, the story seemed most interesting, but the remainder served as an anti-climax.
“The Tapestried Chamber” involves a general returned from the American War of Independence who discovers that an old school chum has inherited an amazing estate. As would be expected, there is the anticipated nocturnal visitation and brief revelation of its source. There is nothing very remarkable in the story, though it could serve as “color” for a similar, but extended and more active tale.
“Death of the Laird’s Jock” is as fascinating for its introduction as it is for the tale itself. The introduction shares of Bernard Gilpin, a Protestant clergyman in the Scots border areas who was horrified to see a mailed gauntlet hanging above an altar in challenge to those who would defy its position. Gilpin felt it was sacrilege, placing one’s own prowess at arms versus the might of God. Upon being told that removing the gauntlet consisted of a challenge to the mightiest knight in the region, Gilpin informed all who would listen that he himself had removed the gauntlet. The knight was too ashamed to challenge the clergyman. Hence, the sanctuary was restored to its symbolic purpose in pointing toward God.
The eponymous protagonist of this story was, of course, named Jock. He was distinguished from other’s with this common name by being identified as “The Laird’s Jock,” essentially, “The lord’s son, Jock.” In some ways, this may well be an etiological tale for the origin of a place known as “Laird’s Jock’s stone.” Alas, the resolution here is also quite predictable, but the redeeming quality is that it provides an easily re-worked set-up for a new artifact in game design and story for my writers group.
June 7, 2024
When I cracked this out on my break at work everyone thought I was super cool and intellectual and not pretentious at all
April 12, 2022
I'm not sure how to approach poetry in review compared to the same endeavour with literature, especially a peom in six cantos such as this.
My rating, it must be admitted, is due to this famous work's reputation as well as to my own feeling: it is Sir Walter Scott through and through. That is to say it is the ancient land and people of Scotland brought to life in order to be related to in the present day. Sir Walter Scott has the ability to give his characters flesh as if he really related to them and to describe the landscape as if it were really enchanted.
This peom is the length of a short story and yet it never breaks stride and captures the attention till the very end. It is one of his most famous works for a reason.
My rating, it must be admitted, is due to this famous work's reputation as well as to my own feeling: it is Sir Walter Scott through and through. That is to say it is the ancient land and people of Scotland brought to life in order to be related to in the present day. Sir Walter Scott has the ability to give his characters flesh as if he really related to them and to describe the landscape as if it were really enchanted.
This peom is the length of a short story and yet it never breaks stride and captures the attention till the very end. It is one of his most famous works for a reason.
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July 7, 2021(After having finally finished setting up my online course for Early British Literature....) The rhythm and images that weave this tale don't allow for pause. They push forward in a sing-song to tell the tale of forbidden love and border war, traditional themes that appear in a simple and detailed way. Between Cantos, simple explanations of what is about to occur appear, which are useful but also spoil the coming action. Overall, a quick and fun read from the 1800s.
Want to read
July 4, 2011Mentioned in Peter Wimsey #2 Clouds of Witness.
January 14, 2018
Formatting issues make this unreadable .
This kindle version is unreadable as the formatting is all over the place , words are replaced with symbols in many places etc etc .
This kindle version is unreadable as the formatting is all over the place , words are replaced with symbols in many places etc etc .
February 8, 2021
I'm getting lost in romanticism.
July 21, 2022
I do not wish to denigrate Sir Walter Scott, but I will admit to not loving The Lay of the Last Minstrel. I can see, however, why it would have been more captivating to the audience of its day, and how it led to Tennyson, and the Scottish Revival, and so on. It's interesting enough to open quite a number of doors for later authors to explore.
A problem with the RLS edition, is that it has very extensive notes in the back, explaining the history behind the poem, noting echoes and references to other works, and revealing the changes made in the poem over time, from edition to edition. The poem itself is 128 pages of this volume. Then notes are 114 pages. The notes are in a smaller font, in lines that go all the way across the page, so I would guess the ratio of note to text is 3-to-1, or maybe as much as 4-to-1.
The notes are very good, very scholarly, but that's way too much note.
A problem with the RLS edition, is that it has very extensive notes in the back, explaining the history behind the poem, noting echoes and references to other works, and revealing the changes made in the poem over time, from edition to edition. The poem itself is 128 pages of this volume. Then notes are 114 pages. The notes are in a smaller font, in lines that go all the way across the page, so I would guess the ratio of note to text is 3-to-1, or maybe as much as 4-to-1.
The notes are very good, very scholarly, but that's way too much note.
June 14, 2010
"Alas! Fair dames, your hopes are vain!
My harp has lost the enchanting strain,
Its lightness would my age reprove:
My hairs are grey, my limbs are old
My heart is dead, my veins are cold;
I many not, must not, sing of love."
Canto II XXX
The only book I've read not for school that was not written in prose and was not poetry. Very interesting.
My harp has lost the enchanting strain,
Its lightness would my age reprove:
My hairs are grey, my limbs are old
My heart is dead, my veins are cold;
I many not, must not, sing of love."
Canto II XXX
The only book I've read not for school that was not written in prose and was not poetry. Very interesting.
December 24, 2010
Coleridge truly had nothing to fear from Scott, no matter how popular Scott was 200 years ago! (And almost 40% of the book is Scott's background notes, virtually all of which I skipped.)
February 24, 2011
I wish I understood the book.
December 5, 2011
I appreciate the quality of the stanza, but the prose and storyline left me a little lost.
February 18, 2016
British Prime Minister William Pitt used to recite passages from this ballad poem at his dinner table. They knew how to have fun in those days.
February 5, 2019
I ended up enjoying it a bit more because I read it for class; otherwise, I'm not particularly fond of balladic, bouncy poems (I think I have Chaucer to blame for that with his parody of the genre).
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June 26, 2016"Love is Heaven and Heaven is love."
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