I'm going to criticize The Count of Monte Cristo
For my one reader, several years from now, who finds this and is interested
I tried reading this novel when I was 17. I got very close to the end, and gave up about 7/8 through. I didn’t know it at the time, but a lot of the plot points and nearly all of the character psychology went over my head.
Well, my coworker recently talked me into trying it again.
I devoured it
I deeply, deeply loved it. I was reading the Count’s dialogue out loud to myself, so I could savor it. What a great character!
The writing was amazing. Complex characters. Realistic, interestingly structured scenes. Humor. Suspense.
And I loved the irony of Edmond Dantes interacting so much with the young man who should have been his son. I loved their relationship. The moment when the Count (who is Edmond) starts teaching Albert (who is his enemy’s son) how to deceive people… so good.
Literary criticism about a nearly 200-year-old novel
But everything after the duel turned sour. It was like I was reading a book that wasn’t finished, an ending that had never moved beyond a first draft.
Later I learned that The Count of Monte Cristo has two authors. Alexander Dumas collaborated with Auguste Maquet, whom he collaborated with on several of his novels. At one point, Maquet sued Dumas for more money, and the judge ruled in Dumas’ favor, saying,
"Dumas without Maquet would have been Dumas: what would Maquet have been without Dumas?"
So, my theory is that Maquet wrote the ending, and Dumas never had much of a hand in it.
But without further adieu, here’s what I disliked about the ending — and I stewed on this stuff for quite a while! These are raw notes, so I apologize for their courseness.
Villefort going mad… it happened so quickly, I didn’t quite follow it. He was suddenly interested in the poison problem, and then seeing his son made him go mad? Huh? The combination of these make it feel messy — just do one of these feeding into the madness. As it is, it seems like the madness is just a convenient way for the writer to resolve both of these developments at once.
Danglars… we wait until the end for his revenge moment, and how it’s resolved is the bandits capture him and he has to use the rest of his fortune going hungry. So he’s hungry, and then when Edmond Dantes reveals himself, Edmond just says, “Do you repent?” And Danglars says yes, and then that’s it. That’s it?!?!? WHAT. This is what we held off until the end for? Just a moment of recognition for Danglars, and Emond saying one thing, and we’re done?! This is the moment you save for last? What a joke.
Edmond Dantes thinks, “Maybe I could love Haydee, maybe she does see me as more than just a father.” Oh, you didn’t get that by the fact that, about 40% through, she was begging you that she saw you as more than a father, and you rejected her? Leaving off the general commentary about this section, that it’s “creepy” (I don’t disagree; to modern eyes it is creepy). It’s just not compelling. The character wasn’t developed at all. She’s a nothing character. It’s “hot” that the Count gets her, plays into the fantasy of the character, but it’s not compelling. He should have ended up with no one. It should be have been…. He wondered if he could rekindle with Mercedes, and always kept her around, and stayed near her just in case she needed anything. And he watched Haydee grow and become interested in Albert, and that gave him enough meaning — through the two of them growing together, he felt like a grandfather, his two non-children, and since he was a non-human that felt appropriate. (I’ve rewritten this in my mind so it’s the true ending.)
Am I crazy for disliking the resolve with Albert? I admit I loved their bromance. The part when the Count started training Albert on the art of deceiving people? Brilliant! Maybe that was just me, bringing something to the text that wasn’t there. It’s absolutely true that the Count was over-flattering Albert and faking him out, and I love that. And yet, was it all completely a lie? This is the character I think the Count consistently sweet-talked the most. Surely because of his love of Mercedes, he saw something compelling in Albert. It would have been nice if, after the duel, the Count thought — hey, this kid is a good kid, I’m going to make sure he’s safe from afar, and not spoil his development with my explicit presence.
I liked the resolve with Eugenie and her tutor. I had been thinking Eugenie seemed lesbian-ish, and I was hoping the book wouldn’t be down on her for her love of art and desire to not marry. And bam, she was. A little too on-the-nose, but it was fun. She’s a minor character; I forgive being on-the-nose with them.
I was waiting for a scene between Noirtier and the Count/Edmond, because I thought they were both badasses and it would be cool to see them sort of respect each other. Even better, Noirtier was indirectly the cause for Edmond's issues, and I wanted to see how they'd acknowledge that. There was a moment between them, but it was off-screen. WHAT. Show us that! I'll just have to imagine the moment; the Count approaches Noirtier, who is totally impotent by paralysis, and there's a moment where you think the Count will be mad at him, but he's not, and he says something like, "We all must act according to the dictates of our conscience" or whatever — and then they go on to have a discussion about how to handle Valentine, and they bond over their mutual desires to (1) change society and (2) help the young people.
I liked the Debray character, consistently. Lucien Debray. I first fell in love with him when, as the book summarized: Madame Danglars was chatting about the Count to Debray, who was very interested. But when the Count actually entered the room, they’d both arranged themselves to appear disinterested in him. Madame Danglers was tinkering on the piano, and Debray was leaning against the end of the piano, thumbing through a magazine. What a great moment! And I loved Debray’s resolve with him conning Madame Danglars. A nice closing scene with them in that rented room. They deserved each other (though Debray made out better from their relationship).
I was sad Franz was not a larger character, and that his history with the Count was never written. (Note: I’m not sure what “his history with the Count was never written” means anymore, but I’ll leave it in case it makes sense and I’ve forgotten.) I now think that the section where Franz met the count on the island, took the hashish and had the drug-induced dream… this was written after-the-fact in order to foreshadow/resolve the ending with Maximillian. Unfortunately, it indicated to me that Franz was a more major character than he ended up being.
I understand the utility of having the Count return to the Chateau D’If and relieve his trauma in order to spur on his veangeance (which actually, didn’t even happen, he leaned into mercy… but nice misdirection). However, it was pretty un-subtle. Worse, it opened us up to the psychology of the Count, when he’d been barred from us from the first part of the novel. I thought this was the correct choice, keeping him mysterious and at a distance, and I didn’t like this transparency at the end. I think it detracted from the strength of the character and concept. Here’s how I would have done it, if necessary: Show us from the prison warden’s point of the view, that the count is retracing this — keep us out of his thoughts. Then at the end, you can have some quick dialogue where the Count says he’s “resolved.” Then the guy still feels electric and dangerous. Resolved to what? we wonder.
I can imagine a better ending, in my mind, with the Count staying near Mercedes and Albert. However, what I can’t imagine is the excellent dialogue and poignant arrangement of these moments. I suspect that is Dumas’s contribution to the novel, and that Marquet did the plotting/structure. I suspect that Dumas was more removed from the last 20%, and this is the steep drop in quality I’m seeing. The ending is thematically correct; or, I should say, it’s one version of thematically correct. But there are other thematically correct ways to end it — such as, leaning more into the tragedy of what Edmond Dantes undertakes. And, perhaps the reality of this would have been enough to pique Dumas’s interest and keep him engaged. I felt disengaged from the ending, so it’s not hard for me to imagine Dumas was as well. Of course, this is just my best guess about what happened there.
Other things I liked
When M. Danglars confronts his wife, Madame Danglars, about her failed speculation. Debray is in Madame Dangler’s room, playing with Madame Danglars’s little dog on the couch. First M. Danglars bluntly tells Debray to leave, then he sits on the couch. When Madame Danglers’s dog comes to him, M. Danglars grabs the dog by the neck and hurls it onto the other couch. Madame Danglars is surprised by it. This sets the tone for the rest of the scene, including some electric, bitter dialogue. Striking.
I’m betting this is one writer’s strength, probably Dumas — and without this brilliance, we’d just get a scene where the husband and wife talk, with a neat little pin in the end, “I forbid you to speculate again,” or something like that — just the rote building blocks, and none of the sizzling details that make it realistic and interesting on the page level.
I love the dialogue. The highest compliment is I was reading it aloud.