Wednesday, July 15, 2015

The Count of Monte Cristo


1844-1845 (serialized) ; Alexandre Dumas

Do I even need to describe the plot of this classic novel? It's an adventure story commenting on hope, justice, vengeance, mercy, forgiveness, and the incidental consequences of one's actions. The novel has remained relevant for over one hundred fifty years, and its main character is equally as identifiable among the world's populace as "...Mickey Mouse, Noah's Flood....and...Little Red Riding Hood" (Sante.) Its plot has been used numerous instances to support modern stories, carrying such vivid allusions that even if you've never read one of its pages, you still could probably summarize its basic events.

But have you actually read it?

If you haven't, I suggest you procure a copy immediately. I recently finished a modern novel, Shutter Island, and, although this novel entertained me, it read like a movie--short scenes, forced character development (which is understandable for the time-frame of a movie), and a short time-span of events (the entire plot spanned three days.) By no means do I consider the above storytelling techniques inferior (because I love plenty of stories designed in this manner, even novels written about one day in the life of a woman planning for a party), but I grow weary of modern novels at times, their use of hidden agendas for shock-value, their reliance on gimmick, their society-safe messages and themes. 

I know I'm overgeneralizing, and that I'm bias to the classics, but after reading Shutter Island, I chose to finally read The Count of Monte Cristo. I've hesitated reading it in the past simply because I feared my analytical processes were tainted by its commonality in modern literature and film to truly evaluate it with the openness every novel deserves before turning its cover. 

After beginning the first chapter, I was both pleasantly surprised and personally validated. Exposure to its storyline and allusions from other works did not tarnish my desire to continue reading or analyze its content for its conflicts were quickly and easily presented, its main character and supporting characters were distinguishable and genuine yet unpolished and innocent (presenting potential for growth), and the events were plausible, meaningful to the story, and foreshadowed future encounters. And as I finished the first chapter, I heard myself thinking, "This is another example of why we continue to study [classic] novels [and other classic writings] in school; they simply are worth the time."

If by chance you are not familiar with this novel's plot, and my post has tempted you to secure a copy for future perusal, here's a capsule summary to entice your senses of justice, romance, loyalty, and your secret desire for revenging the wronged, no matter whom the antagonists represent for you in your life: Unworthy adversaries have Edmond Dantes falsely arrested for treason on the eve of his wedding, imprisoning him for fourteen years. Eventually he endures a grueling and risky escape, afterwords securing a fortune and returning to society to seek revenge on the men who stole his life. 

One note I would like to add about this novel which might qualify as a minor plot spoiler, but it touches on a quality I admire, aspire to emulate, and pray I will never be tested to exhibit or else my true character may be revealed to me: loyalty. Not loyalty to a cause or country, which are much easier forms of loyalty to uphold because of others' support, but loyalty--loyalty which is demonstrated alone--to a singular person despite possible self-destructive repercussions.

Let me set the page: As the Count of Monte Cristo, Edmond befriends the son--Maximilien--of his most loyal supporter during his arrest and years of imprisonment, holding this son close to his heart and treating him as a son himself. Maximilien visits the Count, reporting another soul from the Villefort family is close to death. The Count, desensitized to the Villefort's suffering since the patriarch of the family was one of the men he vowed revenge upon, flippantly sermonizes about the wicked receiving due punishment; however, Maximilien reveals to the Count the new victim is Valentine, his one true love. Despite his just hatred for the Villefort family, the Count promises Maximilien his aid and the life of Valentine. At risk of being discovered, shattering his decade-long preparations and intricate revenge plot, and his undeniable hatred for the Villeforts, the Count assumes watch over the young Valentine, directly inside her room (the house of his worst enemy) for four days, not sleeping, vigilantly watching over the young maiden.

The Count sets aside everything he's living for at the moment in order to procure the happiness of Maximilien. Now if these actions aren't examples of singular loyalty--selfless, true, and unyielding love for another human--than I really have never understood these concepts. I would love to claim I would behave in the same manner for my best friend, but I fear I lack even an ounce of the Count's sacrificing nature, discipline, and reason. Also, how wonderfully magical would it be to know someone in your own life who would be your Count in a time of actual life-threatening desperation?  

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