The Count of Monte Cristo is one of those classics that earned its name by being suspenseful, exciting, and an absolute joy to read. I started reading it almost by accident (waylaid in pursuit of a book less easily found), but if I hadn’t read it, I feel that something would have been missing in my personal library of literary favorites.
Ages ago I watched the movie (which in itself is thoroughly enjoyable, if necessarily cut down). Since then, the urge to read the book has been patiently sitting in the shadows formed by the hustle and bustle of everyday life until finally, whilst stalking Beowulf, I happened upon this tale of love and vengeance.
For that is what the Count is all about—betrayal, wrongful imprisonment, love, riches, and above all, vengeance. This story begins with a man who has little, but lives happily. A well-respected mate aboard the merchant vessel Pharaon, his hard work is soon to pay off in the form of captaincy, which would allow him to marry the woman he loves and better care for his beloved father. But Fate is fickle, and where there is much happiness, there is also much envy.
In the case of poor Edmond Dantès, out of the dozens of men and women who love him, there are three who hate him, and in the turbulent days after Napoleon’s exile to the Isle of Elba, it takes little to suspect—and convict—someone of being a Bonapartist. Within a day, through achingly unfair circumstances, Edmond is sent to the Chateau d’If—a prison infamous for cruelty and hardship—for life.
But this is not the end of our naïve protagonist: for through a sort of death, he arrives back to life in the outside world (with limitless riches, too), an avenging angel ready to take Fate into his own hands to reward those who were good to him—but more importantly, to bring the Hounds of Hell down on those who were not.
Alexandre Dumas mixes a heady perfume, balanced parts horrifying and romantic, tense and humorous. I urge anyone and everyone to open its pages and breathe in deeply—you will find more there than paper and printer’s ink.
Ages ago I watched the movie (which in itself is thoroughly enjoyable, if necessarily cut down). Since then, the urge to read the book has been patiently sitting in the shadows formed by the hustle and bustle of everyday life until finally, whilst stalking Beowulf, I happened upon this tale of love and vengeance.
For that is what the Count is all about—betrayal, wrongful imprisonment, love, riches, and above all, vengeance. This story begins with a man who has little, but lives happily. A well-respected mate aboard the merchant vessel Pharaon, his hard work is soon to pay off in the form of captaincy, which would allow him to marry the woman he loves and better care for his beloved father. But Fate is fickle, and where there is much happiness, there is also much envy.
In the case of poor Edmond Dantès, out of the dozens of men and women who love him, there are three who hate him, and in the turbulent days after Napoleon’s exile to the Isle of Elba, it takes little to suspect—and convict—someone of being a Bonapartist. Within a day, through achingly unfair circumstances, Edmond is sent to the Chateau d’If—a prison infamous for cruelty and hardship—for life.
But this is not the end of our naïve protagonist: for through a sort of death, he arrives back to life in the outside world (with limitless riches, too), an avenging angel ready to take Fate into his own hands to reward those who were good to him—but more importantly, to bring the Hounds of Hell down on those who were not.
Alexandre Dumas mixes a heady perfume, balanced parts horrifying and romantic, tense and humorous. I urge anyone and everyone to open its pages and breathe in deeply—you will find more there than paper and printer’s ink.