The Count of Monte Cristo

Before I begin my critique of this novel, I must say there is a certain satisfaction upon finishing a long book. I read this on a Kindle, but it must be near a thousand pages in printed form. I started it on April 25th, so it took me nearly four months to complete. Now, I rotate among a handful of books at the same time, but still, it was with me for a long time, longer than some marriages, longer than the William Henry Harrison presidency. Reading a book like this is like climbing a mountain--the precipice is in sight, but sometimes it's a long way off, and when I reach it, whether the book is good, bad, or indifferent, there's an incredibly smug feeling of accomplishment, as if I've done something that no one else has done.

Anyway, The Count of Monte Cristo, by Alexandre Dumas, is one of those books that almost everyone has heard of, but I imagine few people today have actually read. Most literate people know the set-up: a young man, Edmond Dantes, is falsely imprisoned. He languishes for years, but manages to escape with the help of a fellow prisoner, an Abbe who tells him of a vast fortune hidden on a small, uninhabited island called Monte Cristo. The Abbe dies, but Dantes takes his place in a bag that is tossed into the sea. He survives, finds the treasure, and plots revenge on his enemies.

The book was published in 1844, and has been made into countless plays and movies. Eugene O'Neill's father, an actor, played the part of Dantes for years in a touring production, and the family house in Connecticut was called the Monte Cristo Cottage. It's also been parodied--I know that The Simpsons tackled it, with Mr. Burns as the prisoner who tries to tunnel his way out.

What I didn't know was that the part that everyone knows--the imprisonment and escape, takes up only a small part of the book. Dantes is a sailor, who is promoted by his kindly boss. This incurs jealousy in the part of the second mate, Danglars. He is also affianced to Mercedes, but has a rival in her cousin, Fernand. They team up to accuse him, anonymously, of being a Bonapartist (the emperor was then on Elba). The prosecutor, Villefort, sees through the falsehood, but Dantes' evidence is a letter which incriminates Villefort's father, so he destroys it, allowing an innocent man to go to prison.

What takes up the vast remainder of the book is Dantes insinuating himself in French and Italian society (he buys the island and the title of Count from the Tuscan government). It takes long and labyrinthine turns, with the Count often disappearing for several pages at a time. I had forgotten some of the side trips by the time I got to the end of the book, such as those dealing with Roman bandits.

What gives the book an extra edge is Dantes' methods. He doesn't just want to get basic revenge, like simply killing someone. He goes to great lengths to ruin them, make them insane, or drive them to suicide, sometimes all of the above. At times this includes destroying their whole families. Mercedes, who went on to marry Fernand and had a son, Albert, begs him (she's the only one who recognizes him) to spare the life of her son, who has challenged Dantes to a duel. He was ready to kill the young man, but due to Mercedes' pleas, he decides he will die instead. A different resolution saves both of them.

What he does to Villefort is perhaps most encompassing. He endeavors for a series of poisonings to wipe out almost the whole family. In fact, there's more than a bit of cruelty to Dantes, some that transcends simple revenge. For example, he saves the financial life of his former boss, but does it at the last second, when the good man has a gun to his head, ready to shoot himself.

Dantes eventually recognizes this part of himself, and questions: "Having reached the summit of his vengeance by a long and tortuous path, he saw an abyss of doubt yawning before him." But a visit, as a tourist, to his former cell, reassures him that he was in the right. It makes for a great ethics conversation though--is revenge ever justified?

Dumas, who also wrote The Three Musketeers, is a florid writer, befitting the serial origins of the book. It was a huge bestseller, and often goes nakedly into melodrama. When Dantes unmasks himself to Villefort, he says, "I am the spectre of a wretch you buried in the dungeons of the Chateau d'If. God gave that spectre the form of the Count of Monte Cristo when he at length issued from his tomb, enriched him with gold and diamonds, and led him to you!"

Still, this is what is sometimes called a very good yarn. If one can make it through the extraneous parts, it is a rewarding (and lengthy) read.