The Three Musketeers is one of my favorite novels. I haven’t read the entire series, but the sequel, Twenty Years After, is also very good.
Hmm… Perhaps that was the problem with my copy.
Interim Book Report
If the reader doesn’t know about the conflicts between Louis XIII and Cardinal Richelieu, the plot will be as clear as mud. Dumas names ‘The Cardinal’ as Richelieu only in Chapter XIV.
My family on my mother’s side are Huguenots who left France in 1685 and settled in New Amsterdam, now New York City. Dumas describes the dangers of the time in Chapter I:
There were robbers, mendicants, Huguenots, wolves, and the servants of nobles, who made war upon everybody.
Dumas has placed Huguenots between beggers and wolves! **My honor, and that of all Huguenots, has been insulted. **
Monsieur Dumas - I will meet you in the parking lot behind the grocery store tomorrow morning at 8.
Who among you will be my second?
I agree that the films are an excellent romp.
However it was very sad that Roy Kinnear - the fat servant - died before the end of filming the second one. You can tell which of his scenes were not completed because the replacement actor has his back to the camera.
I did see another film version, in which the good-looking cast seemed to take their clothes off as often as possible. It also had some by-play about a chastity belt and someone accidentally swallowing the missing jewel - necessitating a patient wait with a potty.
Somehow I doubt this was in the original…
Many film versions–including the fairly recent Disney one with Charlie Sheen–neglect to mention that the “bad guys” represent the Catholic Church in France. If this central fact is somehow glossed over, you’re watching crap. Don’t pander to us Catholics at the expense of a good story.
So far, my favorite version is the Richard Lester/Michael York/Oliver Reed version referenced earlier. Lester absolutely refused to candy over any of the Musketeer’s excesses, or the rank stupidity of French society of that era, and still made them look like a pretty swell bunch of guys. Raquel Welch and Faye Dunaway were pretty awful actresses, but they filled out the period costumes nicely.
A Black co-worker of mine was looking for an appropriate book for his 13-year-old daughter to read for a school project and a book report. He was delighted to hear that Alexandre Dumas was a Black man, a Haitian whose father was one of Napoleon’s officers. Plus, at the time, the DiCaprio version of Man in the Iron Mask was in theaters, so his daugher was sold on Dumas.
If you liked The Three Musketeers and have a taste for fantasy, you might want to check out Stephen Brust’s The Phoenix Guard, and its sequel, Five Hundred Years After. It’s a dead-on parody of Dumas, but also some damn good swashbuckling fun. I actually read it before I read Dumas (I’m a fan of Brust’s other work) and it inspired me to go back and check out the original source.
Just wanted to point out that Dumas was 1/4 black from his paternal Haitian grandmother. He looked about what you would expect a 1/4 black man to look like. He was born and raised in France and, culturally, he was pretty much all French. He did, however, encounter racism in his life, but nothing compared to what he probably would have dealt with in the US, for instance (he was extremely successful and a valued part of the literary community).
What Idlewild said. The three books, taken together, convey a splendid arc both in storyline and character development. I fell in love with the characters, including the “bad guys”, who for the most part aren’t really evil, just looking out for themselves and/or working with dedication towards the ends they believe are important. In The Iron Mask, of course, the four friends find themselves in opposite factions of intrigue, all trying to do what they think is right.
My favorite movie version is the Richard Lester film duo, screenplay by George MacDonald Fraser. The Disney version turned Richelieu into a cartoon villain, with the ridiculous conceit that he was trying to overthrow the King. (Richelieu spent his career strengthening the political power of the crown.)
It is a ripping yarn and is one of the few books from the 19th century that lose nothing when read today.
I disagree: [spoiler]Before the book began, she left her lover to die in her place–the executioner at the end tells the story. She kidnaps innocent women. She tries to have her brother murdered so that she can gain his inheritance.
And while D’Artagnan’s behavior toward her was less than stellar, it was hardly akin to rape. And even if it had been, frankly, I can blame her by responding to it with poisons enough to kill dozens of people, for responding by poisoning the woman he loves, and so forth.
Had she confined her violence to avenging herself against D’Artagnan directly, I could see where you were coming from: he certainly swore blood oaths over less. But she didn’t, and her murderousness preceded both her anger at D’Artagnan and her service to the Cardinal[/spoiler]
Finished the book last week, and loved it. I second Miller’s suggestion: The Phoenix Guards is a hilarious book, written both as an homage to, and as a satire of, Dumas. It’s a delight.
Daniel