Tag: historical fiction

The Count of Monte Cristo

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And now, the plot

Or,
Edmond Dantes; If God didn’t want me to do this he’d have killed me by now

It might actually take me a few posts to simplify the plot because The Count Of Monte Cristo is, in actuality, several interweaving stories

Part 1: The book versus films

Whom we must be revenged upon:
Mercedes; Edmond’s betrothed who panic marries his rival
Fernand; Edmond’s love rival for Mercedes who posts the allegations against Edmond which lead to his imprisonment

Most films emphasize this particular revenge and minimize the revenge on Villefort which is arguably the stupidest move. Genuinely. What happens to Villefort is so much more intricate and interesting. By focusing purely on the love story which is not the center of the novel these films do absolutely no justice to how fucked up Edmond Dantes is. A huge bummer.

Commonly in film: Mercedes’ son Albert is kidnapped and miraculously saved by the mysterious Count of Monte Cristo. The count uses Albert to be introduced into society. Mercedes is still in love with Dantes, recognizes him, explains that she needed to marry Fernand because Dantes had gotten her pregnant, after a duel with Fernand, they all run away together, lovers and bastard son. Hooray.

INCORRECT. Chronologically:

The mysterious Count of Monte Cristo buys a slave named Haidee. She is the daughter of a disgraced Vizier and former princess in a Grecian court of Arab descent.
She worships him as her savior and he does not treat her as a slave but as a ward, often bringing her to social events to show off her beauty (allegedly)

Monte Cristo indeed arranges for Albert to be kidnapped, Albert is really cool about it. By the time Albert leaves, all of the smugglers are shaking his hand and they’re all buddies. He calmly is like ‘oh cool, you saved me? You didn’t need to but that’s chill of you. Let’s be best friends’ and Monte Cristo is like yeah sure.

Monte Cristo avoids Mercedes at all costs and is weird about Albert being like ‘man my mom is cool. You wanna meet my mom? I’d fuck my mom if we weren’t related’

Monte Cristo keeps introducing Albert to Haidee saying ‘man, she’s the best. Isn’t she great? Wouldn’t it suck if she had a tragic past related to your dad? Definitely not a past linked to me. Your dad does fucked up shit a lot. Didn’t your dad used to work for a Vizier in Greece when he was a sailor before he became super mega rich for no reason. Anyway, check out my hot daughter. Hope you don’t fall in love with her’

And Albert’s like ‘my mom is cool’. And Monte Cristo is like ‘yeah, yeah she’s great, shut up’.

Eventually it becomes unavoidable and Monte Cristo and Mercedes meet.
Mercedes is still in love with Dantes, is the only one to recognize him, explains that she needed to marry Fernand because she didn’t know what else to do and has lived basically in mourning her whole life having chronic nightmares of Edmond’s reported death. She and Fernand have a loveless relationship that both tolerate. Their son, however, kicks ass and is the only thing Mercedes likes about being alive.
Albert agrees he’s Great. And also check out how cool my mom is. Monte Cristo is like yeah that’s nice, kid.

Eventually through repeatedly introducing Haidee and Albert, Monte Cristo is like ‘hey, tell this kid your tragic backstory but leave out names’. Haidee tells about her father being murdered and she and her mother being sold into slavery and a bunch of horrible shit that happened to her because Fernand sold the family out to be made a rich baron.

Albert and Monte Cristo get in a fight about Fernand after some intermediaries confirm that Fernand was the one who let to Haidee’s enslavement and orphaning. Fernand is like ‘this is really fucked up of my dad, but you shouldn’t say that in public’ and Monte cristo says ‘idgaf, he did it and I will talk about it’
They call for a duel.

Mercedes begs Edmond not to kill her son, Edmond agrees but knows he will have to let Albert kill him to maintain all of his lies, and laments still loving Mercedes as the worst thing about himself. And then he’s kind of like ‘or do I? She seemed cool about me letting her kid kill me. Yeah, fuck her actually’.

Then, at the start of the duel Albert mysteriously says ‘Actually I’m not offended’ and Edmond realizes Mercedes must have confessed everything.

Albert calls out his father about being a piece of shit so hard that Fernand kills himself and Albert and Mercedes leave town to start new lives.

Everyone agrees how cool Albert is. Mercedes ages rapidly, like rapidly, from being all disgraced and what not. Monte Cristo says ‘yeah, that sucks, man. Guess I’m revenged since Fernand is dead’.

Monte Cristo and Haidee realize they’re the only people who get each other, because of all the wanting revenge, and run away together. Monte Cristo is on a boat with Haidee, sailing away like ‘wow. What a messed up time I’ve had.’

Now that alone could be one book. But it’s not! Because we have other people to hate and plot against…

The Count of Monte Cristo

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Part 2

Alexandre Dumas was a guy™.
Let me elaborate.
Alex, can I call you Alex? I’m gonna. Alex was born Dumas Davy de la Pailleterie in 1802, a French novelist and playwright, who gained seemed to genuinely be living his best life.

His father, Thomas Alexandre Dumas Davy de la Pailleterie was the son of a French Marquis and Haitian slave woman who rose to the rank of general-in-chief, fighting in multiple of the French Revolutionary Wars and invasions into Egypt, Battle of the Pyramids, and more. From extremely humble beginnings, brought to France by his father for education, Thomas Alexandre was considered a paramount of discipline, structure, struggle and reward.

And Alex would have likely hated that I mentioned his dad first, but I needed him for contrast.

Alexandre Dumas was described by English Playwright Watts Phillips as “the most generous, large-hearted being in the world. He also was the most delightfully amusing and egotistical creature on the face of the earth.”

In 1830 Alexandre participated in revolutionary riots that ousted Charles X and installed Louis-Phillipe, the citizen king. This led to huge restrictions being lifted on censorship that really helped the literary movement of the time to freely portray classism in Europe. Alexandre also faced considerable discrimination for his African heritage which he responded to…sharply. Known for wit and being an incoming train of words, he established himself as the progressive paradigm.

Described as loud, talkative, jovial until he wasn’t, Alex’s salons were something of legend. He was a founding member of the Club des Hashischins, a group of prolific writers including Charles Baudelaire and Victor Hugo, who met monthly at a hotel in Paris to take hashish together.

Alex married actress Ida Ferrier in 1840, they had no children together. Alex did have four claimed illegitimate children and 40 known mistresses as part of a publicly open marriage, iconically the prolific Adah Isaacs Menken who was 33 years younger than him which launched her brief writing career though she sadly died young at 33.

He founded a production studio and art collective and remained on the edges of multiple revolutionary movements throughout Europe and Russia, ex-patting to Russia for two years.

Now, the production company is one I’m fond and not fond of because he was at times accused of plagiarism, particularly around elements of the Count of Monte Cristo. Auguste Maquet who was a known collaborator of Dumas’ accused him of plagiarism after Monte Cristo because elements of Monte Cristo were lifted and expanded on from the novel Georges, also by Dumas but which Maquet had contributed to. Maquet was ultimately granted more money by the courts but couldn’t get a by-line.

His works ultimately mean that he wrote over 100,000 pages and there are still lost works which occasionally turn up, he was a powerhouse of getting work done. And then rewarding himself for it.

Which brings us to the Chateau de Monte Cristo in part 3….

I like this picture of Dumas and Menken for how happy he looks

The Count of Monte Cristo

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Part 1

Come on a journey with me
The journey is Im reading The Count of Monte Cristo on a whim.
It is 1276 pages and I have absolutely zero free time between caregiving, writing, and content what have you.
So we’re making it content.
So, first obstacle;
I have had an extremely difficult time attempting to download a book on tape of this, allowing me to “read” count of monte Cristo while doing other stuff.



I recommend looking up librevox or loyalbooks for public domain recordings!
You can access them on their websites or I like to look for specific recordings that have been uploaded to podcast addict!


I attempted at one time a recording of Ulysses by James Joyce, which may be another journey we go on this year, but it is so impenetrable to read out loud that every recording I found included some laughter or groans, which honestly was so charming.

So anyhow, I got caught up on Chateau D’If. For whatever reason my phone refused to download this 55 hour audio book past chapter 8.

Weird, right?

So, I’ve gotten creative and been switching between audiobook options because almost every platform I’ve found has some issues with Count of Monte Cristo.

And because I most likely have some form of ADHD, I have zoned out and spent a lot of time researching Alexandre Dumas as an individual and let me tell you, he’s a guy.

I mean, he was a guy™.

So next week will be my rant on Alexandre Dumas and I’ve challenged myself that the week after that will be a take down of the Count himself.

We’re having a Dumas month!

Review: SisterSong

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Sistersong
Lucy Holland

This book was beautiful; a retelling of the Twa sisters, it follows three siblings through an Arthur-adjacent tale with links both to real history and myths in The Matter of Britain.
As an Arthurian nerd (read: everything nerd), I loved seeing a story I wasn’t familiar with, a murder ballad that I was familiar with, an amazing queer representation, and a new take on Merlin.
The story manages to do all of it without beating you over the head with its source material, instead guiding through a world that feels totally Holland’s creation. The narrative and characters are remarkably organic and conflicted.
I would absolutely recommend it, especially to a queer audience which all too rarely sees representation outside of mundane coming out stories.

Review: Sunnyside, Glen David Gold

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My friend who doesn’t know me, Glen David Gold, was someone whose books were recommended to me by a friend who has since passed. I had avoided them at first, as I mentioned in my review last year of Carter Beats the Devil. My friend had been right, of course, knowing me well enough, that I feel strongly about these novels.

I loved Carter Beats the Devil, I adored Sunnyside.

Sunnyside, Gold’s second novel, is an examination of so many things: old Hollywood, war, masculinity in relationships, parental relationships, neglect and control. It honestly took me quite a while to grapple with it, not being a page burner so much as a book that requires breaks and contemplation. The way which the different story lines, the completely unrelated characters, weave together is ingenious. An intelligent, winding story with many fantastical elements, stories of old west shows woven into the plot involving Weimar Germany, the fundraising of old Hollywood for war bonds, and heavily leaning on the life and stories of an animated, well characterized Charlie Chaplin as the divining rod for the plot. Normally I’m skittish about historical fiction that leans on well known historical figures—I just have this sort of cringe reaction, wondering how a person would feel having words put in their mouth. With Glen David Gold I consistently don’t mind, I don’t think of it at all. That is Chaplin.

And while Chaplin is a focus and draw, of course, I think my favorite character was Lee Duncan. He was such a smooth, bumbling at times, sympathetic leading man for Gold to lean on.

I cannot begin to fathom the research process for a book like this. It’s stellar.

Review: Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell

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Making an effort to post a review every Friday!

I’ve referenced Susanna Clark’s Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell in the last two reviews I wrote and upon realizing that I thought maybe I should say something about this book I’ve unwittingly referenced back to multiple times. I had pegged Piranesi earlier this year as a contender for my favorite book of the year (since I’ve read it recently, of course; I certainly don’t do anything chronologically). Susanna Clark writes like a historian. Anyone who has read the introduction at the beginning of The Ladies of Grace Adieu, the collection of stories, could tell you that the references and style in her short story work is reminiscent of a researcher who has happened upon these stories and is sharing them with you purely from the perspective of historical interest. You clearly already know this history, having lived it yourself, but here is a scholarly assessment to embellish upon your public school education.

It is educational without being pretentious and it never breaks character. You are always within her world once you have consented to read it. Piranesi, I felt, accomplished this in a much shorter format—which I would argue is more difficult.

I read an absolutely dogshit review of Piranesi where the reviewer complained that Susanna Clark had phoned it in after producing the masterpiece that is Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell, that the story became too character and too plot driven, and that there wasn’t nearly the same psychotic attention to minuscule detail that didn’t advance anything—you can see where I’ve put things into my own words. I cannot understand a criticism less than one that is upset that book has a tightly knit plot. That’s what we all want, for a plot to fold in on itself like a musical score; criticizing Piranesi for doing what Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell does in less words is…you don’t understand fiction. You’re welcome not to like a book, but by god, what a reason.

Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell is, of course, a difficult act to follow. Nearly a thousand pages, it stands around 782 depending on the print, and it is a complete history written in the sensibility of its characters—academic and practical scholars of English magic during the Napoleonic wars. I would argue that it is meant to be written in a way that not even Mr. Norrell could criticize it. It is a thoroughly and joyously British Book. It celebrates English character, ideals, and it’s nearly like reading Edith Hamilton’s Mythology in its textual reverence for its own story.

It is a very good feeling to read something and to feel that it couldn’t have been done any other way. That what the author intended—which as a reader you’re only guessing at—feels accomplished. The show’s effectively over. I read Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell as though it was truly a historical text, I paused to look up references, I enjoyed the archaic spellings of words that are period-accurate woven throughout; I really studied this book in several ways and it feels complete to me. I didn’t read it, rushing through, with the speed or mentality of a memoir or fantasy book as I usually would; instead I treated it like an academic study and I just—I have no notes. There’s nothing I could argue could be done differently or would have had a different character or appeal if done differently. The book is what it is and it is whole. Changing any aspect would both cheapen it and make it a completely different book.

That comment I made before on wanting a plot to fold in on itself like a musical score; it’s okay if you read a book and you can see the trajectory of the plot and where it is headed. I read another dogshit review recently of a different novel complaining that the reviewer skipped ahead a few chapters and figure out the ending. Well, of course you did. You read ahead of yourself. Books should have refrains and reprisals. The whole spine of a novel should be its effective foreshadowing without being terribly obvious—but yes, you’re supposed to be guessing at the ending. It’s called being engaged.

I think there is this bizarre push these days, and I’m going to blame things like cheap fx popcorn sellers, to have a twist ending. You want to be surprised by a book. But a lot of the joy, especially in a story that involves prophecy, is that you as the audience know what is happening and are watching it unfold. It is not an author’s job to psych you out. It is an author’s job to raise you to their level, it’s a communication not a deception—and what a more elbow nudging way to do that than to pretend that your fantasy is a reality that has already taken place and that everyone surely knows the punchline to.

The book is too short.

Review: The Once and Future Witches

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Making an effort to post a review every Friday!

The Once and Future Witches by Alix E Harrow

I had to look it up afterwards, this book came out in 2021 and was up for several awards, winning the British Fantasy Award. I feel it had an enormous amount going on in it. It was a complicated book that either could have been split into several shorter stories, or a book that could have been fleshed out into a thousand or so page tome. I get the impression that the author would be happy to do either as it seems these characters are very loved.

It is not to say I didn’t enjoy this book but I sometimes wondered what this book wanted to be. It’s dense, it’s a heavy book to contend with but at no point is there not a lot of forward motion. It propels the reader on, character driven, though there were things I admittedly would have liked to stop and examine or characters I would have liked to have spent more time with rather than switching as much as we did between the sisters. I think it’s a mark of how well written and crafted the book is that is really shouldn’t be read quickly. It’s something that ought to be sat with.

The plot follows three sisters in a maiden-mother-crone dynamic who have fallen out due to various revealed traumas but are drawn back together by a series of magical events tantamount to magical terrorism –events are blamed on witches in an effort to undermine the suffragist and women’s rights movements during which the story takes place. The setting is a fusion of rewritten history with magical context, very in the vein of Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell but without Susanna Clark’s historian sensibility; instead lessons are infused throughout the story rather than explained or footnoted in. It’s presented as though you’re already meant to know it, which I do like this style of being thrown into the kiddie pool. I absolutely loved the prose, I loved the way which the author sticks fingers into nooks and crannies to pull out grubs of information, but I found myself at times distracted by the switching between characters. This, honestly, shows an effective writer. I wanted to stay with a character I was reading about, not move to whatever sister provided the next plot point right away, but it also made it feel like it was written with a television-season sensibility. You could see the commercial breaks. I am no less guilty of that in my own writing, but it is something that’s had me stop and consider if I want to continue doing that in my own manuscripts.

Review: Carter Beats the Devil

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Making an effort to post a review every Friday!

Carter Beats The Devil by Glen David Gold

On a personal note: I received this book from a friend in 2019 who then died suddenly three days later. So a lot rode on this book for me, that I had to enjoy it, or it needed to strike the right chord for me, and part of me considered never reading it at all. In 2020, finding myself with suddenly considerably more free time at home, I made an effort to start going back and rereading all of the books, watching all of the shows that had been recommended to me by Eric that I never got around to. I saved this for last.

The good news is that I adore this book.

It is not only for me a very niche subject which I truly enjoy—I know a lot about stage magicians, shut up—but it’s presented in a very charming, intelligent way where you truly come to care for the characters and feel engaged with them. I like historical fiction, ad a rule, but I often feel very cringe with it—this book escapes that. At no point when mentioning historical figures do I find myself flinching at their presentation, instead there is a casual familiarity that becomes very genuine. I adored this book.

But I clearly also have a bias about this book and it means something different for me than it probably does anyone else, and it’s a kind reminder of Death of the Author having it’s merits—that something once it’s put out into the world truly can take on separate meanings of its own and different significances.

But regardless, I think you would like this book, too.

That casually genuine quality to Gold’s writing is spectacular, like being taken into confidences, and I can’t speak enough to how genuinely likeable the characters are. As you follow their progression through conflicts, there is almost a schizophrenic phenomenon of feeling compelled by the pacing and telling of the story and this nearly tongue-in-cheek quality of floating above it, knowing where it’s going by seeing the references to storytelling of the time. I felt it was very respectful to its influences. I adore it.