Reviewed by: Savage Economy: The Returns of Middle English Romance by Walter Wadiak Maia Farrar Walter Wadiak, Savage Economy: The Returns of Middle English Romance (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press 2017) 210 pp. Wadiak opens his monograph with the invitation to read romances "backwards"—retrospectively appreciating the ways the tales' endings return us to the initial problems of their openings. Such retrospection becomes the impetus for Wadiak's inspiring intervention, which argues for reading the genre "as a mirror of the ways" the medieval commercial and social economy similarly "reconstituted itself" (3). Specifically, Wadiak looks at the "symbolic violence" of the noble gift and the ways chivalric gifting becomes currency within the metaphorical mercantile economy of romance. The noble gift expresses violence by introducing a dependent relationship between the receiver and giver, one which might "secure peace" while simultaneously revealing the "latent aggressivity" of competitive giving (8). Opening with the "returns" of romance, Wadiak offers his theoretical framework to his study—using gift theory to ask "what kind of violence a gift can do" (9) and astutely links this question to romance, asking why "romance keep[s] coming back to medieval England" (15). The first chapter is a strong introduction to the symbolic violence of the gift and romance, using Floris and Blancheflour to demonstrate romance as the "time of the gift" and the genre's nostalgic demand for a return to "proper feudality" while simultaneously acknowledging the "utter artificiality" of its own nostalgia. In a condensed but remarkable reading of Floris, Wadiak sees the romance as using procedures of exchange to constitute itself as a cultural object where "the survival of these modes of value" seems to radically call into question "its own logic of commodification" (22). In this romance, the investment in the gift (as the lovers themselves become commodities and gifts) is both more marked and more fraught than primarily martial texts, highlighting for Wadiak the ways the gift reproduces violence. The second chapter turns to the gift as the aggressive currency of romance, arguing that the late-fourteenth-century "spendthrift romances," such as Sir Cleges, Launfal, and Sir Amadace, were responding to aristocratic "excessive giving." Gift giving has material limitations, which these spendthrift romances disastrously encounter. These texts position themselves through mercantile [End Page 281] culture—even divine intervention (such as Cleges' miraculous cherries) is economized—but rather than celebrating feudal violence, Cleges "sublimates this violence, economizing it as noble exchange" (49). Cleges' request for blows in exchange for the cherries equates violence with material gifts, but Wadiak importantly notes the role violence plays in proving Cleges' chivalric past and reestablishing him within the courtly culture. Even as Cleges' status as Uther's "paramour" is proven by his violence, it "paradoxically" demonstrates the ways both gifting and the violence of the gift are "inadequate" to sustain the system (35). Chapter three suggests that in Chaucer's Knight's Tale, gifts serve not only to "impose order precisely by the means of violence" but also to limit its destructiveness (77). For Chaucer, "literature itself is commodified," but it also seems to assert that the aristocratic economy of chivalry and noble gifting is a "distraction" from the "profitable business of bourgeois romance" (69). In The Knight's Tale, Theseus draws attention to the dual nature of gifts as a source of peace and a source of violence—encouraging aristocratic allegiance as well as power struggles. Perhaps slightly less compelling than the other chapters, this analysis focuses on Theseus' "symbolically violent" amphitheater without unpacking the ways Emilye (or women in romance more generally) acts as a gift, easily exchanged and commodified in frequently violent ways. Chaucer's romance fantasizes that the profits of violence can "be appropriated to the community at large" while simultaneously mourning the death of chivalry as the community is only brought together by their "common mortality" (86). Chapter four, on Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, suggests the ways violence can be appropriated to unite the community. Wadiak persuasively articulates that Gawain's girdle, which both "stands for and wards off violence" (104), is simultaneously the paradigmatic gift and the embodiment of romance itself. However, Gawain's story evolved to become "popular" beyond...