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A review by millennial_dandy
The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas
adventurous
mysterious
tense
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
4.0
<i>"The one who pours himself a cup of vengeance is likely to drink a bitter draught."
"Yes, if he is poor and clumsy; no, if he's a millionaire and adroit." </i> p.385
The Count of Monte Cristo is, despite its girth and size, an excellent gateway into the Classics. And this for a number of reasons:
One, having been written serially, each chapter or at most, each couple of chapters, contains within a short story with a climax and cliffhanger that together serve an overarching plot. This means that the pacing clips along, so that before you know it, you're three hundred pages deep and still in the thick of things.
Two, it's much more linguistically accessible than classics/literary fiction has a reputation to be. Not that the prose isn't lovely in places--it is-- but for the most part, the prose is there as a vehicle for an exciting story. For someone who isn't looking to or is just starting to get used to wading through dense, multi-line sentences, each with their own dense, philosophical musings, metaphors, and hidden meanings, Monte Cristo is perfect. Given that it was written in the mid 19th century, there are some stylistic quirks that are obviously different to how such a novel would be written today, but it's easy enough to get into the rhythm.
Three, it is thematically pretty straightforward. This is principally a revenge fantasy plot wrapped around the question of whether or not revenge is a worthy cause to pursue. It explores how seeking revenge impacts the person seeking it as well as the fallout when it goes to plan. There's also a related question that Dumas raises about where, if anywhere, Providence ends and free-will begins. This may sound like a slightly more esoteric ponderance, but Dumas keeps it accessible by having the Count/Dantes call himself 'the Hand of God' about which he has several conversations with other principal characters.
I was frankly pretty amazed by how little in a novel published in the mid 1840s aged poorly. There are a few things that on first blush may appear to be at odds with our 21st century sensibilities, but Dumas makes it clear contextually that he as the author isn't suggesting these things are good, but is in fact including them as proof of the Count/Dantes's corruption. At one point, the Count tells one of the 'good guys', Franz, about how he acquired one of his <s>slaves</s> servants: by waiting until after the man had had his tongue cut out to rescue him from execution because 'he'd always wanted a mute servant.' <i>"For a moment Franz said nothing, considering what he should think of the cruel good humour with which his host had told him this story."</i> (p.316) And then later, when the Count speaks of this slave, Ali, again to someone else: <i>"He receives no wages, he is not a servant, he is my slave, he is my dog. If he were to fail in his duty, I should not dismiss him. I should kill him." Baptistin's eyes bulged"</i> (p.528)
Then, of course, there's the elephant in the room: the Count's slave girl/mistress, Haydee, who he buys when she's a child, raises as his daughter, and eventually ends up in a romantic relationship with (thanks, I hate it). Even though this is the area where Dumas treads the closest to...poor taste (?) to say the least, he still has enough context and negative reaction from other characters to this relationship that the narrative isn't celebrating it. Still, definitely gives one the ick.
I rather think that the relative openness with which Dumas displays his tale's moral compass makes it a good starter for a reader just learning how to do literary analysis. What Dumas has to say about revenge can be easily extrapolated from the things his characters say and do in addition to the consequences and outcomes of those actions.
And, frankly, it's just a very compelling story with a memorable protagonist, a very discussable plot, and with enough intrigue to flesh itself out.
Sure, in a novel over 1000 pages, there are bound to be things that get overwritten, and a few too many side-plots, but it all comes back together in the end in a way that makes getting through those moments still feel worth it.
Is it the greatest novel ever written? I wouldn't accuse it of that, but it's definitely clear to me why it's stood the test of time, and I wouldn't be surprised if we saw a Netflix mini-series in the nearish future now that BookTok's gotten a hold of this sprawling novel.
"Yes, if he is poor and clumsy; no, if he's a millionaire and adroit." </i> p.385
The Count of Monte Cristo is, despite its girth and size, an excellent gateway into the Classics. And this for a number of reasons:
One, having been written serially, each chapter or at most, each couple of chapters, contains within a short story with a climax and cliffhanger that together serve an overarching plot. This means that the pacing clips along, so that before you know it, you're three hundred pages deep and still in the thick of things.
Two, it's much more linguistically accessible than classics/literary fiction has a reputation to be. Not that the prose isn't lovely in places--it is-- but for the most part, the prose is there as a vehicle for an exciting story. For someone who isn't looking to or is just starting to get used to wading through dense, multi-line sentences, each with their own dense, philosophical musings, metaphors, and hidden meanings, Monte Cristo is perfect. Given that it was written in the mid 19th century, there are some stylistic quirks that are obviously different to how such a novel would be written today, but it's easy enough to get into the rhythm.
Three, it is thematically pretty straightforward. This is principally a revenge fantasy plot wrapped around the question of whether or not revenge is a worthy cause to pursue. It explores how seeking revenge impacts the person seeking it as well as the fallout when it goes to plan. There's also a related question that Dumas raises about where, if anywhere, Providence ends and free-will begins. This may sound like a slightly more esoteric ponderance, but Dumas keeps it accessible by having the Count/Dantes call himself 'the Hand of God' about which he has several conversations with other principal characters.
I was frankly pretty amazed by how little in a novel published in the mid 1840s aged poorly. There are a few things that on first blush may appear to be at odds with our 21st century sensibilities, but Dumas makes it clear contextually that he as the author isn't suggesting these things are good, but is in fact including them as proof of the Count/Dantes's corruption. At one point, the Count tells one of the 'good guys', Franz, about how he acquired one of his <s>slaves</s> servants: by waiting until after the man had had his tongue cut out to rescue him from execution because 'he'd always wanted a mute servant.' <i>"For a moment Franz said nothing, considering what he should think of the cruel good humour with which his host had told him this story."</i> (p.316) And then later, when the Count speaks of this slave, Ali, again to someone else: <i>"He receives no wages, he is not a servant, he is my slave, he is my dog. If he were to fail in his duty, I should not dismiss him. I should kill him." Baptistin's eyes bulged"</i> (p.528)
Then, of course, there's the elephant in the room: the Count's slave girl/mistress, Haydee, who he buys when she's a child, raises as his daughter, and eventually ends up in a romantic relationship with (thanks, I hate it). Even though this is the area where Dumas treads the closest to...poor taste (?) to say the least, he still has enough context and negative reaction from other characters to this relationship that the narrative isn't celebrating it. Still, definitely gives one the ick.
I rather think that the relative openness with which Dumas displays his tale's moral compass makes it a good starter for a reader just learning how to do literary analysis. What Dumas has to say about revenge can be easily extrapolated from the things his characters say and do in addition to the consequences and outcomes of those actions.
And, frankly, it's just a very compelling story with a memorable protagonist, a very discussable plot, and with enough intrigue to flesh itself out.
Sure, in a novel over 1000 pages, there are bound to be things that get overwritten, and a few too many side-plots, but it all comes back together in the end in a way that makes getting through those moments still feel worth it.
Is it the greatest novel ever written? I wouldn't accuse it of that, but it's definitely clear to me why it's stood the test of time, and I wouldn't be surprised if we saw a Netflix mini-series in the nearish future now that BookTok's gotten a hold of this sprawling novel.
Content Warnings
Moderate: Adult/minor relationship and Violence