Thrown in prison for a crime he has not committed, Edmond Dantès is confined to the grim fortress of If. There he learns of a great hoard of treasure hidden on the Isle of Monte Cristo and he becomes determined not only to escape, but also to use the treasure to plot the destruction of the three men responsible for his incarceration. Dumas’ epic tale of suffering and retribution, inspired by a real-life case of wrongful imprisonment, was a huge popular success when it was first serialized in the 1840s.
I’m not really a fan of ‘classic’ novels, although there are a few notable exceptions. Having said that, a recent trip to Marseille (and more than a little prompting from my other half!) convinced me to try The Count of Monte Cristo, particularly as we visited Château D’If – where Dantès is imprisoned for 14 years – during our time there. I’m glad that I let myself be persuaded in this case as I found it to be a fascinating read.
It opens in 1815 with Edmond Dantès returning to Marseille aboard the Pharaon in the position of acting captain, despite his youth. There’s an immediate impression of a well-meaning young man, respected and liked by the majority of those he encounters. Of course, the success of one so young can result in jealousy, and it becomes apparent that he has two rivals – Danglars, a fellow shipmate who resents his youth and competency, and Fernand, who is in love with Dantès’ fiancée, Mercédès. What should have been a happy return to Marseille for his marriage is quickly blighted when Dantès is accused of being a Bonapartist agent and is imprisoned in Château D’If, the prosecutor, de Villefort, having his own reasons for seeing Dantès incarcerated despite believing him innocent of the crime.
In prison, Dantès makes an unexpected friend in Abbé Faria who is in the cell next to his and who inadvertently breaks into his cell in his own attempts to escape. Faria is widely believed to be mad, laying claim to vast fortune for which there is no evidence. Despite this, Dantès and Faria become close, the latter becoming something of a surrogate father figure to Dantès and saving him from the madness which had threatened to claim him. The Abbé quickly shows himself to be an extremely intelligent man and one who it’s easy to like. It is the Abbé who, having heard Dantès’ story, works out who betrayed him, and it is he who ultimately enables Dantès to escape from prison.
The Count of Monte Cristo is a BIG book, and it does feel like it at times. Dantès’ time in prison takes up around the first 25% or so of the novel, the rest of which sees Dantès seek revenge against those who changed the course of his life through their lies and machinations. The revenge he seeks is complicated as Dantès – adopting the persona of the titular Count – insinuates himself into the lives of those who betrayed him completely unknown to them, gaining their trust to better understand how to move against them and how to ruin their lives as they ruined his. And those who have betrayed him have done very well for themselves in the intervening years – they have a lot to lose, and the reader can’t help but think that their morally-dubious activities have continued, enabling them to amass the fortunes and to achieve the positions in which we find them so many years later. I wanted to see them brought low as much as Dantès, and I enjoyed seeing his revenge take shape.
Dantès is introduced to the reader as a pleasant young man, one who is perhaps a little naïve, but a good person. He doesn’t deserve his fate having done no wrong and which comes down to the jealousy of others. The man who emerges from prison is one who is understandably changed by his experiences, but I enjoyed seeing him adopt the persona of the Count, a man of who creates quite a storm upon his arrival in Paris due in no small part to the aura of mystery that surrounds him – he is charming, intelligent, and, of course, incredibly wealthy. And the novel isn’t all about revenge. He tracks down those who betrayed him, but he also seeks to help those few who remained faithful to him and who never gave up on him in a way that’s charming to see.
One of the benefits of this being such a long novel is that the characters, even those who don’t seem to play an active role in the narrative, are well-fleshed out and fully formed – there are no bit parts here. And it’s a fascinating insight into 19th century Parisian society – a society that seems more progressive than I was expecting. I enjoyed seeing the young women in the novel baulk at their father’s wishes for them to make a good match when they’d rather marry for love or not at all. Many of the women presented here have some degree of independence and power, although they are all in thrall to their husbands to some degree. There are hints of same-sex relationships and transvestism in all but name. I believe that The Count of Monte Cristo came before the earliest detective fiction, and yet the Count (and to a lesser degree Abbé Faria) bring a level of deduction to the tale that Holmes would be proud of, bringing to light the truth of Dantès’ imprisonment when many – and three in particular – would see that truth buried. There’s much to appeal to a modern-day reader, despite it being nearly 200 years old.
The Count of Monte Cristo is a thrilling tale of adventure and revenge as Dantès proves willing to go to any lengths to punish those who ruined his life and to see those who harmed him get their comeuppance. I thoroughly enjoyed it.
Jo's Book Blog 
You made it through, congratulations!
I did indeed! 💪
The size of this intimidating but i still want to try this
I know that feeling, but I enjoyed it more than I thought I would. Go for it!
wonderful review Jo you’ve definitely convinced me to give it a try! x
Thank you, Nicki! Hope you enjoy it x