Ratings754
Average rating4.3
Revenge is a dish best served cold.
Where do I start with this book? It's not by any means a perfect book - there are some flaws that simply can't be ignored, especially not when you're reading this from the 21st century. Even if we take out period-specific biases that litter throughout this book, it still has some flaws like overly convenient or just wildly unrealistic plot developments.
And despite all that, I still give it 5 stars for the sheer enjoyment value of it.
I'll admit that the first 20 chapters or so were pretty slow-going and I almost wanted to DNF. I took about 1-2 weeks to get till Ch 17, then I took a break from the book. When I picked it up again, I zoomed through Ch 18 to 117 (the end) in... 5 days. The book was un-put-downable at a very early point, every chapter was just so much juice and drama that I kept wanting to go on and on and on. I stayed up till 3-5am just reading this book because I wanted to know what was going to happen.
The Count of Monte Cristo has a very simple plot at its core, which is probably a huge part of why it remains so popular until today. A young man, Edmond Dantes, seems to have it all - at 19 years of age, he's an accomplished sailor well respected by his crewmates, he's on the brink of being promoted being naturally favoured by the ship owner, and he's about to get married to a beautiful young woman who has been faithfully waiting for him throughout his voyages. Of course, shit happens. Through a series of very unfortunate events and false accusations, Edmond ends up wrongfully imprisoned for FOURTEEN years, after which he crafts an elaborate and comprehensive revenge for the people who had robbed him of his youth, his prospects, and his marriage.
All of this happens in the first 20-ish chapters, and I was thinking: how on Earth is this book going to drag on for another 100 chapters? But it does. Oh, it really does.
There's daring swordfights and pistol duelling, treasure hunting, multiple betrayals, multiple secret identities, manipulation, so much bribery and corruption, broken marriages and broken-off engagements, secret star-crossed lovers, kidnapping by bandits, and so much more. Dumas also clearly has a penchant for only doing things at the last possible and most dramatic moment, so once you can suspend that disbelief and go along with that ride, it'll suck you in for good. This book is a veritable soap opera in text form.
That is, perhaps, one of its flaws although it's one that I am quite indifferent about. The book isn't even trying to be realistic, Dumas flagrantly enjoys the dramatic and he's going into it unapologetically. Sure, there're a lot of overly convenient and crazy plot twists but the book is clear that this is just alllll part of the drama, it's deliberately shocking you, and I'm here for it. So if you're going into this expecting social commentary or like any kind of realism, you will certainly be disappointed. Instead, look at this book in the same light as you might look upon something like Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson or Journey to the Center of the Earth by Jules Verne - it's a rollicking adventure book that requires some suspension of disbelief.
OK, let's address the elephant in the room - slavery - which will unfortunately have to go under spoiler tags as it only really becomes a thing after the first third of the book.
The Count takes on two slaves and both of them are extremely problematic imo. The first is Ali, who is described as Nubian/black, mute, and basically submissive. The problematic-ness of this is fairly clear, although perhaps not at all surprising for the time the book was written, around 1840. Ali is apparently a very competant and diligent servant, but his muteness means that he literally has no voice of his own, and he is shown unabashedly grovelling at the Count's feet. In Ch 46, when one 0f the Count's actual paid servants (I can't remember the name) says that he should emulate Ali more since the Count clearly favours him, the Count says no, because if the servant made a mistake, he would only fire him, but if Ali made a mistake, he would kill him and that Ali's life belonged to his simply because he saved his life. I get that this is probably regular fare for 19th century standards, but man is it discomfiting to read in this time and age.The second slave we get to know is Haidee, who is even more problematic to read about. Haidee is a Turkish/Greek young woman of only about 18 years old, who had once been a princess but when her father was killed, she was sold into slavery, whereupon the Count eventually bought her. From the very beginning, the Count refers to her as his "female slave", although it's clear that she is treated on a different level than Ali. While Ali does actual work for the Count, Haidee is referred to as "the young mistress" by the other servants. She keeps to her chambers and does nothing. At first, I was worried that there was some kind of sex slave situation going on which would be extremely gross, but luckily that didn't come true. When we first see Haidee interacting with the Count, she is joyfully relishing in their relationship as master and slave, always speaking submissively, worshipfully, and reverantly to the Count. We learn later on that the Count apparently looks upon her as a father would upon a daughter, which is honestly a bit weird as well, but OK. From the very beginning, there is a power dynamic between them that is significantly more unequal than even the standard imbalance that would already exist between men and women at the time. I was really disappointed when the Count ended up with Haidee at the end - even discounting their large age gap (the Count is in his early 40s while Haidee is still not even 20), I just can't get behind that ship at all with the grovelling way Haidee talks to the Count and how she relishes in submitting to him as her master in all senses of the word.
Some other notes about characters, which will also have to go under spoilers:
- Eugenie Danglars: Probably my favourite character of the book. It's left fairly open to interpretation whether she is homosexual or asexual, but she rebels against patriarchy and the institution of matrimony and doesn't get punished, which is amazing. Too bad she only appears for like 2% of the book or less, but I'm really happy that her character existed. I love that conversation she had with her father Baron Danglars where she coolly asserted her independence and self-will despite his threats. She was frequently described as being "manly", even by other female characters like Valentine de Villefort, just because she actually relished in having a strong personality of her own, but I'll overlook that because she is great and such a breath of fresh air.- Morrel and Valentine: I was OK about their romance, it was very Romeo & Juliet-esque and I feel like Morrel was such a drama queen almost all the time about this relationship, but it wasn't obnoxiously annoying.- Grandpa Noirtier: Amazing. Loved how he didn't let his physical disabilities and paralysis hold him down and stop him from executing some beautiful vengeances of his own.
Finally, my thoughts about the ending: The ending chapters were, for me, a little weaker than the vast middle of the book. I didn't like how a lot of characters ended up, to be honest. I was super psyched when Cadarousse got his come-uppance and loved the dramatic way the Count went about it. I loved that the Count didn't just go around killing his enemies willy-nilly, but set things up properly so that they still had the option to take second chances and redeem themselves, but if they didn't then they would end up exactly where they belonged. The endings for Count de Morcerf and Villefort were pretty brutal, especially with Villefort, but I thought Danglars got off WAAAY too lightly, considering that he was literally the person who hatched up and instigated the whole scheme against Edmond in the first place. He not only escaped with his life and his sanity, but even 50,000 francs that Edmond gave him.A huge part of the ending that I wasn't too happy about was Mercedes. While she got off pretty lightly compared to some of the other characters, I couldn't help feeling that the book was still criticizing and punishing her in very mild and subtle way, but the punishment was still there. And all this, just because she was "faithless" and married Fernand when everyone around her (including Edmond's own father) convinced her that Edmond was dead after he got hauled off to prison? That is some shitty misogyny right there. I suppose it plays into the whole code of conduct system in that society, where people get laughed at for being cowards just because they apologise and call off a duel at the last minute because they realised they had been at fault after all. Also similarly, how committing suicide is more "honourable" than actually facing up to things like bankruptcy or just the consequences of your own actions. So I suppose it would've been seen as more "honourable" for Mercedes to have remained forever unprotected and alone, or even commit suicide herself, rather than marry someone else. Still though... I disagree with all of the above, and think that Mercedes deserved way better. I'm glad that the Count and Mercedes didn't part on bad terms, but I really wish that they had reconciled more intimately (even if not romantically). It's clear that both of them spent almost their entire lives living for each other even though neither of them knew what had happened to the other, and I don't think that kind of bond is broken off so easily. And in the Count's case, certainly not with a teenage girl who just wants to be his slave in every respect. Ugh.A minor point that was annoying about the ending was how the Count kept dragging revelations to "test" people, particularly with Morrel and Haidee. He made Morrel go through an entire month, and then go through some song and dance about suicide and whatnot, even giving him a vial that he pretends to be poison, before he reveals that Valentine is in fact still alive just before Morrel loses consciousness. Now, that is bringing the dramatic way too far imo, and all just so that the Count can "test" Morrel's strength of feeling for Valentine. Why is it up to him to test that?! Then he also goes through another song and dance with Haidee, giving her back her freedom just so that she can be all like, "I'll kill myself if I can't be with you." Errrr. How much stroking does his ego need? Apparently Haidee's feelings for him catches him by surprised cos he hadn't realised fully up to that point that she loved him romantically, but.. just how?!
Tl;dr of this book: Despite a lot of flaws and problematic bits in this book, it's still such a fun and dramatic soap opera of a novel that'll suck you in for hours. In terms of enjoyment level, this book is almost unsurpassed in recent memory. Close one eye to these problems and suspend some disbelief before you tune in!