Ratings408
Average rating4.3
A wonderful novel! Characters who felt alive, a plot that feels dynamic and unpredictable, prose that is simultaneously poetic and grounded. Thought-provoking and highly entertaining. The book is packed with wisdom; I gathered some 15 memorable quotes from it.
At its core, the novel has exactly one message: be defined by what you have, not by what you lack. Dantès struggled with this in his first years in prison (we all would), but we see that suffering can strengthen humans to an unbelievable degree. In his conversations with Faria, it is evident that Dantès fully embraced this message. Compare this to Maximilien's circumstances: he continued to define himself by what he lacked, so his resolve to kill himself remained until Valentine returned to him. Maximilien never had the trials by fire that made the Count understand this message.
From a religious perspective, this book is in extremely murky waters. Christianity is ever-present in the book, with the Count frequently associating with God in some way, first as His emissary and then as His equal. With this in mind, the Count believes that he can distribute “divine justice.” We can thus view the Count as a foil to Jesus Christ: the Count was a fraudulent “divine emissary” and enacted his revenge, while Jesus was truly divine and forgave all. In all, even if Dumas did not intend for justice to appear this morally problematic, the Count's justification in his quest for vengeance is nearly blasphemous.
What makes this whole justice question even more ironic is that the death that made the Count question his justification in achieving vengeance was that of Madame de Villefort. She poisoned four people, and the Count believes he took a step too far in indirectly enacting justice on her? Additionally, the Count was perfectly fine with letting the Saint-Merans, Barrois, and Valentine be casualties in his retributions, even though none of them deserved his “divine justice” by any justification. (The Count regretted the poisoning of Valentine only after Maximilien told him of his love for her.) In conclusion, I had many moral misgivings towards the Count which prevented me from liking the character. I understand that he reflected on these failings, but his own repentance was nowhere near sufficient. Still, the nuances presented by his situation were extraordinarily thought-provoking, such that they make me more inclined to recommend this book.
Nonetheless, I can't give this book five stars for a couple of reasons. First is Dumas himself. From Robin Buss's introduction, I learned that he wrote for money. For this reason alone, he didn't necessarily seek to explore the tragic and ecstatic depths of the human soul like, say, Dostoevsky (who was it that said “all great novelists die in poverty”?). Instead, Dumas made a plot that he knew would be popular. Certainly, there is some timeless wisdom in the novel, but his “popular novel” formula can really be felt; it feels cheap at times, such as when Valentine magically reappears at the end of the novel. Oh, and besides his approach to writing the novel, Dumas himself isn't a very upstanding character.
The second qualm I have with the book is the fate of Villefort. I thought that he was a good person at the end of the book. He might have made terrible mistakes in his past, sure, but I firmly believe in redemption. I don't think it was in character for Villefort to just back out of the court room when Benedetto revealed the whole quagmire of his history. I would have thought that he'd stand his ground, own up to his mistakes, and speak this line that he said only a couple hours before to his wife:
“For God's sake, never ask me to pardon a guilty man. What am I? The law. Does the law have eyes to see your sorrow? Does the law have ears to hear your soft pleadings? Does the law have a memory to make itself the conduit of your tender thoughts? No, Madame, the law orders and when it orders, it strikes.”
All in all, I wonder if I am the only one who believes that Villefort is the truly tragic character in this novel, not the Count.