The Count of Monte Cristo (Alexandre Dumas)

Imagine this: it's your wedding day, and at the betrothal feast, you get arrested.  You've done nothing wrong, but persons unknown, due to jealousy or self-interest, have accused you of aiding exiled Emperor Napoleon Bonaparte in his attempt to return to power in 1815.  Taken from your bride, you're imprisoned for 14 years.  In jail, you befriend a man who claims to know of a vast treasure on Monte Cristo, a small island between Corsica and Italy.  He, nearing death, gives you his secret, and, after hearing your story, helps you deduce who was behind your betrayal.  He then dies, and you escape to find the treasure just as the man claimed it would be.  You're suddenly free and hopelessly wealthy.  What do you do?  If your name is Edmond Dantes, you become the Count of Monte Cristo, and spend the next 10 years carrying out a brilliantly elaborate plan of vengeance.  The Count of Monte Cristo is his story.

What can I say?  This book is fantastic.  It's long (over 1000 pages), but worth it.  It reminds me of A Tale of Two Cities, in a sense- you have the inital event that sparks your interest, a slow build-up where various pieces are given to you, and a fantastic finish where the pieces come together and form an elaborate, tragic, beautiful story.  In The Count of Monte Cristo, the first 25% is Edmond's betrayal, arrest, imprisonment, escape, and obtaining riches; the next ~35% is the slow build-up where (frankly), you don't always understand what's going on, the characters, etc; the final ~40% is where everything starts falling into place.  That middle bit can be difficult to slog through at times- but trust me, the payoff is worth it. 

It's hard to nail down what I liked best about the book.  Some thoughts:
- the typical eloquence of Victorian writers
- the elaborate nature of the plan of revenge (the seemingly disparate pieces, and how they tie together)
- how Dantes uses his enemies' other sins against them in bringing about their downfall
- the nature of Dantes' character; he's complex and conflicted.  Yet, in the end, he learns that "he who has felt the deepest grief is best able to experience supreme happiness."

The hardest part about "moving on" after this book is that the next I read, regardless of author or genre, will most likely pale in comparison.  Dumas is a master!  One of my favorite authors . . . I can't believe I've waited so long to read him.

Rating: A+