The Count of Monte Cristo

Dumas, Alexandre. 1844/1846*. The Count of Monte Cristo.

On the 24th of February, 1815, the look-out at Notre-Dame de la Garde signalled the three-master, the Pharaon from Smyrna, Trieste, and Naples.

To say that The Count of Monte Cristo is complex would be an understatement. It is a novel worth reading for the most part. But it is one novel that doesn't suffer much in abridgment. [It hurts a little to admit that. To admit that this unabridged classic almost proved too much for me. But it's true.] In fact, I would go so far as to say that it is much improved by the abridgment.

Why did I choose to read The Count of Monte Cristo? I read and loved the book in college. (Read that loved.) It was not assigned reading. It was just something I picked up at my college bookstore and devoured. Several years later, I came across the novel again. In two volumes. I realized then that the book that I loved so very much had been abridged. Since I *loved* it so much, I thought the unabridged would give me more to love. More couldn't be a bad thing, right? So I bought both volumes. I tried soon after to read the book. But I only finished the first volume of the unabridged version. I blamed the start of a new semester for my inability to complete this one. So it sat. And sat. And sat. Until this past September.

Last spring, I created the Alexandre Dumas mini-challenge after reading a newer translation of The Three Musketeers. Another Alexandre Dumas book that I loved from my college days. [Perhaps if Richard Pevear had tackled this one as well, the book would have been better. Maybe it is the translation???] So I needed to read The Count of Monte Cristo by November 15, 2008, to finish the mini-challenge.

I loved the main story lines in The Count of Monte Cristo. I loved or loved to hate most of the characters in the novel. But the unabridged novel drags--almost comes to a complete stop in fact--for several hundred pages at least in the middle. And it was this lack of action, lack of adventure, lack of plot advancement, lack of entertainment made this one needlessly dull.

What is The Count of Monte Cristo about? It is about humanity. Humanity at its best and worst. The frailty and strength of the human mind, body, and soul. It is about life and death, love and loss, jealousy and revenge, hope and forgiveness, redemption and despair. It is about greed, anger, and hatred. It is about justice and injustice.

The star of the book is a man we first meet as the young Edmond Dantes. A man falsely accused and convicted of a crime. A man imprisoned for fourteen years. A man who isn't released from prison, but a man who escapes--narrowly escapes at that--from his cell and seeks to reclaim life. A man who through the help of his deceased friend is able to start again, to start completely from scratch, a man who is able to rewrite his history, his life, give himself a new name--or in this case several new names--(Sinbad the Sailor, Lord Wilmore, Abbe Busoni, etc.) But his primary identity is as the Count of Monte Cristo (or "the count"). But though extraordinarily wealthy--filthy rich at that--money can't buy happiness. Money can, however, help pave the way for the most complex and complete and as the count would say "providential" revenge or vengeance. Here is one man who is very angry and bitter still over those fourteen years, over the lost opportunities, over the death of his father (starvation) and the loss of his betrothed (she married another man). He thinks revenge is the only way to give his life meaning.

The Count of Monte Cristo is a multi-generational novel. Which is just one of the reasons the book is so complex. We're introduced to one set of characters in the first section of the novel, and then hundreds and hundreds of pages later, we're introduced to a second generation--the children (though mostly fully grown by this point) of those characters. We see how the Count uses the children to weave his way into the parents' society. We see the delicate and subtle traps being laid. We see glimpses here and there of what might be on the horizon. But we don't really begin to see the big picture until the last hundred (or two hundred) pages or so.

It starts well. Has a very very very dull middle. But then it begins to pick up. And by the beginning of the end, it's exciting. Very exciting. Unputdownable. It becomes great. And you begin to see why it's such a beloved book. You see why people recommend it. So the story? Definitely worth reading. But go with abridged.

Wikipedia help for the novel.
Spark Notes help for the novel.

*I believe the first English translation was in 1846. It was, of course, originally published in French in 1844. (At least according to wikipedia.)

© Becky Laney of Becky's Book Reviews

The Mysteries of Udolpho

Radcliffe, Ann. 1794. The Mysteries of Udolpho: A Romance Interspersed with Some Pieces of Poetry.

On the pleasant banks of the Garonne, in the province of Gascony, stood, in the year 1584, the chateau of Monsieur St Aubert.

Emily St Aubert is our heroine in Ann Radcliffe's gothic classic, The Mysteries of Udolpho. When we first meet Emily, she is quite happy and living with her mother and father. Everything is as it should be. But this blissful existence won't last long. The beginning of the end comes with the death of her mother. Grief-stricken but brave, this father-daughter team decide (after some time) a vacation would be ideal for his health. He hasn't been the same since his wife's death. And the truth of the matter is, he is slipping away as well. Of course, Emily, dear that she is, isn't aware of how desperate her situation is. How close she is to becoming an orphan. But she senses that all isn't right with the world, with her father.
On this journey together the two meet a young man, a Monsieur Valancourt. (He joins them and they journey all three together here and there and everywhere. But he can't stay with them forever. He can't just invite himself along wherever they go. So they do eventually part ways. Their destination is Provence and the Mediterranean.) The sights are exquisite. And a good time is had by all. But as they arrive at their final destination, little do they know that St Aubert is about to arrive at his. While staying with some kind strangers in a small cottage, her father takes a turn for the worse. And after confessing to a local priest (or clergy of some sort), he dies. This locale is situated by an abandoned castle whom legend has is haunted. The home of a former Marchioness, Villefort I believe is the name. Besides this strange wonder, there is a convent of nuns nearby as well. And Emily does have some interaction with the abbess and a few of these nuns. They do provide some relief for her grief.

Charged with an important mission, Emily--weeping all the way--makes her way back home. Her father's dying wish was for her to burn some of his papers hidden away in his office. And to do so without reading them. She's a bit stunned that her father would have that big a secret from her. But she's a good girl, and does as told. She also finds a mysterious picture (or portrait) of a woman that she witnessed her father weeping over the night before they home for their mountain journey. She keeps this with her. And it's a good thing she does--it makes a great plot device later on.

But while Emily would love to remain in her own little home going about in her own little way. Sad, yes. But in familiar surroundings and with the servants she's known and loved her whole life through providing for her. This is an in-between period for everyone. Emily has been left under the guardianship of an aunt she's never met. A woman named Madame Cheron. Emily is aware of this shift. But she's naive enough--perhaps hopeful enough--to think that life couldn't change that drastically. (While I'm at it, before I forget, her only other relations are the Quesnels. Monsieur Quesnel is her uncle (by marriage). His wife, her natural aunt, isn't brought up much but occasionally the Quesnel name does pop up.) Before her aunt can arrive, M. Valancourt reappears in Emily's life. He's there to comfort her. There to woo her. There to pay his respects and earn her devotion. He wants to marry her naturally. But Madame Cheron's arrival changes all that. Not his desire or devotion. Nor Emily's. But she is definitely trying to end this relationship of young lovers before it even gets much of a chance to start.

Madame Cheron is heartless, cruel, unthinking. And poor Emily is under her control. Cheron jumps to dozens of erroneous conclusions about Emily, about her relationship with Valancourt, about her character and reputation. Cheron takes an instant dislike to Emily. But Valancourt isn't the only one doing the wooing. No. Someone is courting Madame Cheron. A Count named Montoni. Once those two are wed, Emily's nightmare is born. The Montonis--Count and Madame--are dragging the weeping Emily with them to Venice. She's to be forever-and-ever separated from her true love, Valancourt.

In Venice, Montoni's true nature begins to shine through his facade. But it's only a fraction of the horror to come--as Emily later realizes. Here Emily is being pursued--with Montoni's blessing--by a Count Morano. This guy just won't take no for an answer. I think he proposes each and every day that he sees her. The count says yes. The mademoiselle says no. Emphatically. But Montoni seems to have her in his power. And he tells her that she must marry who he says she must marry.

Fortunately or unfortunately as the case may be, the Montoni's (Count, Madame, Emily) after some time flee Venice without a word. Their destination is one of his estates, an abandoned castle (again rumored to be haunted) called Udolpho. The former mistress of the house is a woman called Laurentini. It is after their arrival at this dismal and foreboding castle that Emily's worst fears and imaginings are realized. Montoni is revealed to be the cruel, vindictive, lying scumbag that he is. And Madame Montoni realizes much much too late just how stupid she was to have married a man she knew little about and given away her power. Both parties were liars--to be fair. Both were putting on a show for the other. Both wanted to bamboozle the other. She thought he was rich. He thought she was rich. And now when it's revealed their both...not...then the problems are magnified. The count is in debt, yes, and a gambler at heart. And he makes a career change--turns banditti. He becomes a captain of rogue soldiers-turned-bandits/highway men.

The Madame does have something he wants, however, some property that remained in her name after the marriage. She is convinced to hold onto this no matter what. Her first hope is that this may be her refuge should she ever escape. Her only possession left in the world. Her only thing of value. But eventually, she realizes that this isn't her hope any longer. It is the hope and refuge and prayer of her niece, Emily. She will never escape--she'll die imprisoned in Udolpho--but maybe just maybe Emily can break free of Montoni. You see, as soon as the Count realized that his wife wouldn't budge on this property, he imprisoned her, tortured her, starved her, essentially left her for dead. He thought--erroneously--that he would be the one to inherit if she died. He wasn't. It was clearly left to Emily.

Now the cruel count turns his focus to Emily. And Emily's only two friends are two servants, her maid Annette, and her maid's lover, Ludovico.

And that's where I'll leave you. With Emily still hopelessly stuck under Montoni's control. An Emily who is still dreaming of salvation by her M. Valancourt. An Emily whose only solace is sitting by the window night after night waiting for the mysteriously-haunting happenings to occur beneath her room. (Music is heard sometimes. And also sometimes mysterious strangers that seem out-of-this-world.) I leave you with over the half the book remaining.

The settings for this novel are rich--France and Italy--and the tone is melancholy and haunting. The characters are intricately drawn. And the plot while not perhaps conforming to the tightest structure is beautifully done. More than I first expected. It's complex, but surprisingly easy to follow given its age. Yes, they talk differently. And the sensibilities are different. A modern-day woman wouldn't hardly be trapped by Emily's situations. But it works beautifully.

For the record, I skipped 99% of the poetry. And guess what...the book still made sense. So old fashioned? Sure. But good, delicious fun? Definitely!

© Becky Laney of Becky's Book Reviews

Adventures of Tom Sawyer

Twain, Mark. 1876. The Adventures of Tom Sawyer.

It is my hope and prayer that no one is ever assigned Tom Sawyer for "required reading." Why? Because this one is just too much fun to be boiled down to work. That and the fact that Tom himself would hate it. He has no use for school, you see.

In my opinion, Tom Sawyer is one of the best characters ever. He's young. He's playful. He's trouble, it's true, but beneath the surface he is a good boy. I like seeing life through Tom's eyes. I like hanging out with him. He's just a good companion.

Tom Sawyer is proof that Twain is a genius. Plain and simple. Anyone who could write a book as funny and as charming as Tom Sawyer is a genius.

"Monday morning found Tom Sawyer miserable. Monday morning always found him so, because it began another week's slow suffering in school. He generally began that day with wishing he had had no intervening holiday, it made the going into captivity and fetters again so much more odious." (52)

Definitely recommended as proof that classics are NOT boring and are EASILY accessible to the modern reader.

Loved this quote:

"I was rereading Tom Sawyer. I couldn't read it the day before because Mark Twain, like most of my favorite writers, is not thought suitable reading for a Sunday. I've tried to argue with Ma about this.
"When does a person need comfort from a good book more than on a Sunday?" I asked. Beth [his sister] just snorted. Seems all her favorite books are suitable for Sunday reading." From PREACHER'S BOY by Katherine Paterson, p. 24-25

Dewey asks, "Who is your favorite character in The Adventures of Tom Sawyer?"

That would probably be Tom himself. Though I love Becky as well. Their budding relationship is just cute.

Heather asks a series of questions:

1 - Have you read this before? If so, did your opinion of the book vary from last time?

This is actually my second time to read Tom Sawyer. My first experience with this fun-loving rascal of a boy was in the fall of 2003. I must say that it only improved on rereading. My memory isn't always the greatest...so I found the humorous parts to be just as charming, surprising, and delightful as before. The humor is what I loved most. Though this one has a lot of heart too.

2 - Some people complain about the racism in Twain's books. Does the racism of that time period bother you in the same was a modern writer making racist comments would? (I don't know if I'm making sense here ... let me know if you don't get what I'm asking.)

No and yes. I'll explain. I didn't find the use of the n-word to be negative in this book. I didn't think it was used in a negative way. It wasn't a slam or a slur. It wasn't a hate-filled word. Tom was not using it venomously. It was used a handful of times it's true. But it was casual. I think looked at in context, it was just a word that was common, casual, and natural at that time period. It just was.

I think Twain's books both because of the n-word and because of the character of "Injun Joe" should be read thoughtfully by placing the book in context. I'm not sure if kids are as gullible as we sometimes think. Meaning that I think most are smart enough to figure out that just because things used to be a certain way doesn't mean they should still be that way. You can't really see progress, see change, unless you ground everything historically. You need to know about the past so you can see the present clearly and plan on an even better future.

I didn't find Tom Sawyer racist. Not in the same way that other books are. For example, Gone With The Wind is much more racist--openly racist than Tom Sawyer is. And Little House on the Prairie is much more racist than Tom Sawyer is. So when viewed in a spectrum of other literature, I think Tom Sawyer is a fairly safe.

3 - If you have not read other books by Twain, will you? If you have, how does this compare with his other works?

I've read Tom Sawyer twice. Diary of Adam and Eve once. And Huck Finn once, though Huck was required reading in school and thus wasn't much appreciated. Tom Sawyer is probably my favorite. I hope to read more Twain this year or next.

Chris asked, " As an adult, did you find Tom Sawyer to be charming or a brat? "

Well, I felt like a kid when I was reading it. It's one of those that if it was my son or my nephew or my cousin or my student that I'd probably find him to be bratty. If I was in charge of "disciplining" him, he'd be too much to handle. But I just find him so likable. I just genuinely found him to be charming. I think this would be a textbook of hate the sin, love the sinner.

© Becky Laney of Becky's Book Reviews

Classics Challenge

July 1 - December 31, 2008

Trish from Trish's Reading Nook is hosting The 2008 Classics Challenge. She has created a challenge with various options, offering readers an opportunity to individualize the challenge to their own needs.

• OPTION 1: Read FIVE classics.
  
• OPTION 2: Read FIVE classics from at least THREE different countries
  
• OPTION 3: Read FIVE classics with any combination of at least THREE different countries and THREE different genres (refer to the challenge post to read more about genres).

Cross posting with other challenges is allowed and encouraged; audiobooks are okay; re-reads are accepted. Participants may change their lists at any time and do not need to have a blog. AND there will be prizes! Trish has added a little twist...participants must read five books (as defined in the options above), and a sixth title which will be a "modern classic" chosen from a participant's list of suggestions.

1) Evelina by Fanny Burney
2) Cecilia by Fanny Burney
3) The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas
4) David Copperfield by Charles Dickens
5) North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell

Modern should be/will be classic

6) American Gods by Neil Gaiman

Alternates:
1) The Hunchback of Notre Dame by Victor Hugo
2) A Connecticut in King Arthur's Court by Mark Twain
3) A Room With a View by E.M. Forster
4) The Awakening by Kate Chopin
5) Howard's End by E.M. Forster
6) Dune by Frank Herbert
7) Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell by Clarke
8) Lord of the Rings by Tolkien
9) Life of Pi by Martel
10) Possession by Byatt
11) The Time Traveler's Wife by Niffenegger

© Becky Laney of Becky's Book Reviews