Ivanhoe 4.1

There are no images of children in Ivanhoe, so I built its room in the classroom wing as a place that exists for the education of the reader.

The chivalry of the novel outlines a restrictive or stilted code of behavior full of absolutes: absolute loyalty, permanent oaths, utter forgiveness, exaggerated generosity, and the virtuous characters are identified by how well they adhere to these codes. Rebecca pays back Ivanhoe's payment to Isaac with surprising interest. Cedric opens his hall for hospitality during a storm. Ivanhoe remains loyal to Richard. And the evil Templars have relaxed their adherence to Priestly oaths and even Catholic beliefs.

In contrast to the absolutes of chivalry, there is a narrative voice that occasionally chimes in with editorial comments about the shortcomings of this behavioral system. As the lords jape about the banquet table, they mock both Cedric and Athelstane for being ignorant Saxons. The narrative voice notes, "Now it is well known, that a man may with more impunity be guilty of an actual breach either of real good breeding or of good morals, than appear ignorant of the most minute point of fashionable etiquette," setting in contrast the company's disapproval of "fashionable" etiquette, and "real" good morals. He closes the paragraph by describing Athelstane's experience as "an ample share of the ridicule [for mis-identifying the meat in a pasty] which would have been more justly bestowed on his gluttony" (225). 

These two systems - "real" morals and the chivalric code - are not in contrast except in the presence of the despised Normans (Prince John, specifically). When weilded by honorable people, the two systems seem to function in complete harmony. Ivanhoe has no difficulty being both a good Christian and a worthy knight. The system is tested and stretched in the presence of subalterns, though: women and jews. Women hold a higher status than jews, and jewesses occupy some space in between - protected as the weaker sex, but despised as unchristian. I am uncertain how much protection was owed or given women generally, as only the beautiful women seem to have truly moved men to protect them, as Ulrica bemoans.

I think for children it was not so important to learn the code of chivalry through the social interactions of the novel as much as it was important for them to imagine and attempt to function in a world that HAD a code of conduct at all. The idea of holding back "natural" or "instinctive" behaviors for a more stilted and controlled functioning would have been assumed to give children the tools necessary to distinguish themselves from "savages." The exact rules of tilting and battlefield etiquette would be less important than accepting the duties of protecting women, and for girls to step into the roles demanded by virtue - like Rebecca, to be willing to jump off a high tower rather than allow oneself to be sexually defiled. Children aren't meant to threaten to jump out windows, but rather to learn the relative value of female virtue.

At this point, I'm really glad not to be studying feminism, because this could make me really ill. In the context of the story, this may have been Rebecca's best option (defiled women were presumably worthless and shunned), but it was written by a Victorian who, if he had known better, might have come up with a cleverer plan. But Scott seemed to be attempting to function under selective restrictions of the romance culture that no longer existed in Scott's time (or which may never have existed at all), for which he blames Ivanhoe's marriage to what critics called "the wrong woman" - Rowena - after he has won the heart of the virtuous and beautiful Rebecca. But how much Scott used rules for his own preferred outcome, and how much they truly influenced his plot I would not, in this space, attempt to trace.