You need to sign in or sign up before continuing.
Take a photo of a barcode or cover
3.63 AVERAGE
3.63 AVERAGE
Aside from containing the types of characters and plot readers of "The Three Musketeers" would expect from a Dumas novel, this story also provides a snapshot of both the progressive racial attitudes of the mid-19th century and the limitations of those attitudes. Reads like a screenplay; plenty of action crammed into a reasonably short read.
Another good Dumas story.
First the story. This book has all of Dumas’s trademarks, plenty of characters, a semi-flawed hero, romance, an engaging setting, and a tense conclusion. I was not particularly gripped by this story but it is certainly memorable and once the action starts near the end I really was unsure as to what would happen next.
Dumas does a great job establishing a gorgeous island setting. Maybe it’s not as moving now when we can look at tropical pictures anytime we’d like, but I’m sure the setting really captured 1840s readers.
The titular Georges is a likable protagonist but is overly prideful. Some have complained that there is another character that outshines him as a hero, which I could see, but Georges is still a worthy hero for the novel. In fact, it is clear while reading that much of his characterization is re-used for the Count of Monte Cristo himself.
Many may be interested in reading this to see it’s perspective on race. In that regard there is some food for thought. The overarching story is one of breaking down prejudice and seeing beyond race. On the other hand, this book itself is racist, at least by modern standards. Slavery is not outright condemned, and there are several racial stereotypes in the novel. This novel is an interesting study in a work that is forward thinking/progressive but still a product of its time.
On the whole this is a solid tale and especially of note for Dumas fans. The many heroes and villains of this tale will stay in my mind for a long time to come and I will not soon forget this literary trip to the Ile de France. For Dumas fans this is a treat as this was written before his masterpieces, and Count of Monte Cristo fans should definitely read this to see Georges as a sort of proto-Edmond Dantes. Overall a classic adventure with some interesting racial elements.
First the story. This book has all of Dumas’s trademarks, plenty of characters, a semi-flawed hero, romance, an engaging setting, and a tense conclusion. I was not particularly gripped by this story but it is certainly memorable and once the action starts near the end I really was unsure as to what would happen next.
Dumas does a great job establishing a gorgeous island setting. Maybe it’s not as moving now when we can look at tropical pictures anytime we’d like, but I’m sure the setting really captured 1840s readers.
The titular Georges is a likable protagonist but is overly prideful. Some have complained that there is another character that outshines him as a hero, which I could see, but Georges is still a worthy hero for the novel. In fact, it is clear while reading that much of his characterization is re-used for the Count of Monte Cristo himself.
Many may be interested in reading this to see it’s perspective on race. In that regard there is some food for thought. The overarching story is one of breaking down prejudice and seeing beyond race. On the other hand, this book itself is racist, at least by modern standards. Slavery is not outright condemned, and there are several racial stereotypes in the novel. This novel is an interesting study in a work that is forward thinking/progressive but still a product of its time.
On the whole this is a solid tale and especially of note for Dumas fans. The many heroes and villains of this tale will stay in my mind for a long time to come and I will not soon forget this literary trip to the Ile de France. For Dumas fans this is a treat as this was written before his masterpieces, and Count of Monte Cristo fans should definitely read this to see Georges as a sort of proto-Edmond Dantes. Overall a classic adventure with some interesting racial elements.
hopeful
reflective
tense
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
Georges was a work typical of Dumas. The characters were brave and honorable and the women beautiful and dutiful. The book had some grand naval battles, marked in a way that reminded me of a French version of Horatio Hornblower. The plot was never terribly well organized though and there were moments when I wished they would go more into the relations between some of the other characters a bit more. All in all though it was an enjoyable read- just not such a work of art that I would immediately push it on a friend.
adventurous
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
No
I don’t even know how to give this a star rating. So let’s go through this.
A story, this is non-stop action and fun. If you enjoyed Count of Monte Cristo, this is cut from the same cloth. It has even more action, adventure, and hair-raising daring-do in one-fifth of the pages. And it has even more of that Boy Scout spirit. Georges is “trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous, kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean, and reverent.” So noble that he voluntarily goes to a meeting that he’s sure must be a trap (it is) but he can’t NOT go because it would somehow be dishonorable- even though his capture would mean the ruins of their plans. But - who really cares when the adventures come at such a clip: sea battles, duels, a shark attack, horse races, captures, rescues, pirates, space rebellions. You will not be bored!
Race and racism. Let’s be honest: if you’ve heard of this book, you know it is the only novel that the biracial Dumas wrote about a black (I.e. mulatto) hero. And certainly sometimes he speaks with that Boy Scout earnestness for racial equality, even racial justice. But other times he spews just as much racism as any of his white contemporaries. For example, the slaves rebellion fails for the most stomach-churningly racist “reason.” And of course there’s the fact that this mulatto family not only owns slaves but also deals in the slave trade! Ah, but they are “nice” masters. The forward in my book noted how African Americans adored Dumas as one of their own. But, it noted, it’s doubtful any of them has read this book. If they had, I doubt he Would have been so popular. It’s because of that racism that I just have to dock this book one star.
Historically- all that said, the book is still a fascinating look at how a biracial man who experienced both tremendous fame but also racism dealt with race through a novel. How much is Georges a stand-in for Dumas? How much are Dumas’s own struggles reflected in the struggles Georges faces? I do t know. But this book is well worth the read.
A story, this is non-stop action and fun. If you enjoyed Count of Monte Cristo, this is cut from the same cloth. It has even more action, adventure, and hair-raising daring-do in one-fifth of the pages. And it has even more of that Boy Scout spirit. Georges is “trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous, kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean, and reverent.” So noble that he voluntarily goes to a meeting that he’s sure must be a trap (it is) but he can’t NOT go because it would somehow be dishonorable- even though his capture would mean the ruins of their plans. But - who really cares when the adventures come at such a clip: sea battles, duels, a shark attack, horse races, captures, rescues, pirates, space rebellions. You will not be bored!
Race and racism. Let’s be honest: if you’ve heard of this book, you know it is the only novel that the biracial Dumas wrote about a black (I.e. mulatto) hero. And certainly sometimes he speaks with that Boy Scout earnestness for racial equality, even racial justice. But other times he spews just as much racism as any of his white contemporaries. For example, the slaves rebellion fails for the most stomach-churningly racist “reason.” And of course there’s the fact that this mulatto family not only owns slaves but also deals in the slave trade! Ah, but they are “nice” masters. The forward in my book noted how African Americans adored Dumas as one of their own. But, it noted, it’s doubtful any of them has read this book. If they had, I doubt he Would have been so popular. It’s because of that racism that I just have to dock this book one star.
Historically- all that said, the book is still a fascinating look at how a biracial man who experienced both tremendous fame but also racism dealt with race through a novel. How much is Georges a stand-in for Dumas? How much are Dumas’s own struggles reflected in the struggles Georges faces? I do t know. But this book is well worth the read.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Racism
3.5/5
Not all books are created equal. In this particular work's case, we have a 134 year difference between the time of composition and the time of publication in a certain land of the free, as well as a concerted effort by readers far and wide to forget that the author is black. Add in a slave rebellion as subject material and a main character who happens to be mulatto, and you have a recipe for the sort of obfuscation that leads people to believe that [b:The Book of Night Women|4682558|The Book of Night Women|Marlon James|https://d2arxad8u2l0g7.cloudfront.net/books/1442717381s/4682558.jpg|4733113] could have not been published to the acclaim it received any earlier than it was. Now, this isn't me saying that this is a forgotten classic, although one could make the argument based on Dumas' well established reputation in the canon. It's been a very long time since I read [b:The Count of Monte Cristo|7126|The Count of Monte Cristo|Alexandre Dumas|https://d2arxad8u2l0g7.cloudfront.net/books/1309203605s/7126.jpg|391568], but various adaptations, including one particularly phenomenal piece of animation, have kept its memory fresh in my mind to the point that I can honestly say that the work that derived a great deal of source material from its predecessor, having begun its composition the year after Georges was published, is the far better one. What is lacking, then, is quality critical attention paid to the whole of Dumas, père's bibliography. Blackness and all.
In terms of the writing, it is of the stirring adventure sort that is very easy to visualize and be carried along by. To Dumas' credit, it does not obfuscate enough in the Faulknerian way to the render the reader an empty vessel to anything that is said prettily enough, and so the international stage is displayed in all its author's personally biased glory. More often than not, this is of an admirable nature, as Dumas touches upon both Chinese immigrants and the multicultural spread of Islam with a careful sense of incorporation that does not use the excuse of home territory to forgo diplomacy in its entirety. However, when it came to the topic of antiblack slavery, the narrative often tread into the territory from which stereotypes are born, and while the stunt of the 'tragic mulatto' was avoided, the white-woman-love-as-proof-of-defeat-of-antiblackness was a bit much. Not to mention the inebriation trope that served as the veritable climax of the entire novel. However, a black writer tackling these topics is still far better than the non-black person's efforts, in that the black writer's efforts is worth something and the non-black person's efforts is worth null and void. If you as a white person want to complain about this, go yell at your ancestors for inventing an entire system of pseuoscientific/genocidal reasoning that's benefiting you to this day. If you as someone who isn't white or black want to complain about this, I suggest you talk to someone who is black about it.
Middle-of-the-road as this reading was, the context that, judging by its number of ratings, continues to hide it away today need far more attention than it has been so far receiving. The whole is a greater than the sum of its parts, and what occurs in [b:The Count of Monte Cristo|7126|The Count of Monte Cristo|Alexandre Dumas|https://d2arxad8u2l0g7.cloudfront.net/books/1309203605s/7126.jpg|391568] and [b:The Three Musketeers|7190|The Three Musketeers|Alexandre Dumas|https://d2arxad8u2l0g7.cloudfront.net/books/1320436982s/7190.jpg|1263212] and [b:The Man in the Iron Mask|54499|The Man in the Iron Mask (The D'Artagnan Romances, #3.3)|Alexandre Dumas|https://d2arxad8u2l0g7.cloudfront.net/books/1348990897s/54499.jpg|2971402] could not have happened without the existence of [b:Georges|333333|Georges|Alexandre Dumas|https://d2arxad8u2l0g7.cloudfront.net/books/1320436294s/333333.jpg|2666641]. If nothing else, this reading has got me hankering after a reread of the Count something fierce, especially now that I have a better understanding of its origins.
Not all books are created equal. In this particular work's case, we have a 134 year difference between the time of composition and the time of publication in a certain land of the free, as well as a concerted effort by readers far and wide to forget that the author is black. Add in a slave rebellion as subject material and a main character who happens to be mulatto, and you have a recipe for the sort of obfuscation that leads people to believe that [b:The Book of Night Women|4682558|The Book of Night Women|Marlon James|https://d2arxad8u2l0g7.cloudfront.net/books/1442717381s/4682558.jpg|4733113] could have not been published to the acclaim it received any earlier than it was. Now, this isn't me saying that this is a forgotten classic, although one could make the argument based on Dumas' well established reputation in the canon. It's been a very long time since I read [b:The Count of Monte Cristo|7126|The Count of Monte Cristo|Alexandre Dumas|https://d2arxad8u2l0g7.cloudfront.net/books/1309203605s/7126.jpg|391568], but various adaptations, including one particularly phenomenal piece of animation, have kept its memory fresh in my mind to the point that I can honestly say that the work that derived a great deal of source material from its predecessor, having begun its composition the year after Georges was published, is the far better one. What is lacking, then, is quality critical attention paid to the whole of Dumas, père's bibliography. Blackness and all.
In terms of the writing, it is of the stirring adventure sort that is very easy to visualize and be carried along by. To Dumas' credit, it does not obfuscate enough in the Faulknerian way to the render the reader an empty vessel to anything that is said prettily enough, and so the international stage is displayed in all its author's personally biased glory. More often than not, this is of an admirable nature, as Dumas touches upon both Chinese immigrants and the multicultural spread of Islam with a careful sense of incorporation that does not use the excuse of home territory to forgo diplomacy in its entirety. However, when it came to the topic of antiblack slavery, the narrative often tread into the territory from which stereotypes are born, and while the stunt of the 'tragic mulatto' was avoided, the white-woman-love-as-proof-of-defeat-of-antiblackness was a bit much. Not to mention the inebriation trope that served as the veritable climax of the entire novel. However, a black writer tackling these topics is still far better than the non-black person's efforts, in that the black writer's efforts is worth something and the non-black person's efforts is worth null and void. If you as a white person want to complain about this, go yell at your ancestors for inventing an entire system of pseuoscientific/genocidal reasoning that's benefiting you to this day. If you as someone who isn't white or black want to complain about this, I suggest you talk to someone who is black about it.
Middle-of-the-road as this reading was, the context that, judging by its number of ratings, continues to hide it away today need far more attention than it has been so far receiving. The whole is a greater than the sum of its parts, and what occurs in [b:The Count of Monte Cristo|7126|The Count of Monte Cristo|Alexandre Dumas|https://d2arxad8u2l0g7.cloudfront.net/books/1309203605s/7126.jpg|391568] and [b:The Three Musketeers|7190|The Three Musketeers|Alexandre Dumas|https://d2arxad8u2l0g7.cloudfront.net/books/1320436982s/7190.jpg|1263212] and [b:The Man in the Iron Mask|54499|The Man in the Iron Mask (The D'Artagnan Romances, #3.3)|Alexandre Dumas|https://d2arxad8u2l0g7.cloudfront.net/books/1348990897s/54499.jpg|2971402] could not have happened without the existence of [b:Georges|333333|Georges|Alexandre Dumas|https://d2arxad8u2l0g7.cloudfront.net/books/1320436294s/333333.jpg|2666641]. If nothing else, this reading has got me hankering after a reread of the Count something fierce, especially now that I have a better understanding of its origins.
God shall judge between slaves and masters, between the weak and the strong, between martyrs and their executioners.
adventurous
relaxing
sad
tense
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Plot
Strong character development:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
No
I dunno. This book is such a complicated morass of internalized racism, straight up racism, and deep insights on racism. I read this book because I've been a long time fan of Dumas, having read Three Musketeers when I was but a tot and being a huge fan of Count of Monte Cristo when I got older. One of the things that I never knew until much after I read Monte Cristo was that Dumas was a mixed race man, who had a badass as hell mixed race father (whose life chronicle is amazingly documented in [b: The Black Count|13330922|The Black Count Glory, Revolution, Betrayal, and the Real Count of Monte Cristo|Tom Reiss|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1337693786s/13330922.jpg|18538602]) and suffered the prejudice and racism of his own time period. It is interesting to me, then, that this person wrote such intense books about revenge, chivalry, loyalty, betrayal, and really never about race.
So when I heard about a book where he had focused on it as a core of the plot, even, I jumped at the chance to read it.
The book is immensely complicated, and I have immensely complicated feelings about it. For every insightful, meaningful thing Dumas manages to manifest on his commentary of Georges vs Henri, I feel bombarded by awkwardly horrible presumptions made of the few Asians on the island (I mean, Miko-Miko is referred to as "the Jew of the island" which is SUCH a terrible sentence in SO MANY WAYS, not to mention how Antonio is explicitly described by comparing him to an orangutan). It's as if in the discussion of white vs black, the floodgates to talk about all races is opened, and that bushel of apples is a complicated one.
I wouldn't edit them out - it reflects obviously how complicated race can be, and certainly Dumas doesn't shy away from terrible stuff to say about other black people - there is a clear delineation of the elite, educated, and awesome mixed race people (the Muniers) and the general black populations, who are mostly slaves. Dumas still depicts them more or less as savages, intermittently referring to their simple nature, and even making their propensity for drink a plot point in the book. White people, on the other hand, are not nearly as vilified or even condescended. So Henri and his dad are idiot racists, but they're the straw-villains; I don't care. And god knows it's nice enough that the straw-villains are white people and we're actually, for real, talking about race, and not prejudices people compare to racism, because that doesn't always happen. But otherwise, Henrietta or Sara are not discussed of having feeble minds - nor, actually, is Henri. Most of Georges' closer friends and companions are white; Laiza, in contrast, serves more as a devotee and servant. It's pretty damn clear that Monseiur Dumas has got a couple of things to work out with himself. I don't know if he did, because he really never gets into it, from other books I've read of his, but man, it's complicated.
Henri doesn't even die in the book! Yes, it reminds me of Danglars walking happy at the end of Cristo, and I didn't like it there either. In both there are characters that did comparatively little versus the main villains (Cristo has Villefort, Georges has Lord William) that get harsher punishments, while the person who you're wanting to see hang waltzes away. I suppose it could reflect Dumas' need to show that we don't get everything we want, but hell, at least Danglars repents! Henri I wanted to see at least even more humiliated, though a stabbing would have sufficed.
Georges also suffers Dumas' brand of borderline Mary Sue badassitry. Speaking of Monte Cristo, it's basically Edmond, for both Edmond and Georges suffer only the difficulties of being so ding dang awesome at everything (in Edmond's case, also several years of unfair and hideous treatment in prison). Which, I guess now that I'm older, I have less patience for. In Georges, I did feel somewhat more justified in being okay with it, however, being that it Georges is not typically the type of character I'm used to reading about. Well, okay, a dude who's awesome at everything is something that I'm more than used to, but a minority being that person is a rarity even today. Not to mention that it was nice to see Georges confronted with his pride and arrogance, though his time of mulling about it is pretty brief.
The unfortunate thing is the fact that I do have a lot to love about this book. Even Dumas' introductory descriptions, the way the describes the continent as being able to see all around you, the fact that Sara actually isn't a terribly written character, the moments of sharp clarity Dumas does have about race, these would be enough to recommend this book, and make it difficult to hate. Bits like when Jacques comes back, and Dumas describes the Muniers as one who suffered prejudice, one who exploits prejudice, and one who would fight to the death to destroy it?
DAMN. DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMN.
Dumas is a great wordsmith - that is evident even in translation.
And the action-y parts are super fun! I wish more of it was the revolt, as opposed to saving the cool action scene for the finale, which also kind of stutters to a halt. I got to the notes on my copy and I was like "I'm sorry, what? Why is this next chapter all notes- oh."
So, as I said: I dunno. I'm glad I read this book, and to edit the unseemly bits out would be to do it a discredit, both to the book and the complications of race both outside and within Dumas. But does that make any of the terrible depictions and descriptions any more bearable? I would say not really.
So when I heard about a book where he had focused on it as a core of the plot, even, I jumped at the chance to read it.
The book is immensely complicated, and I have immensely complicated feelings about it. For every insightful, meaningful thing Dumas manages to manifest on his commentary of Georges vs Henri, I feel bombarded by awkwardly horrible presumptions made of the few Asians on the island (I mean, Miko-Miko is referred to as "the Jew of the island" which is SUCH a terrible sentence in SO MANY WAYS, not to mention how Antonio is explicitly described by comparing him to an orangutan). It's as if in the discussion of white vs black, the floodgates to talk about all races is opened, and that bushel of apples is a complicated one.
I wouldn't edit them out - it reflects obviously how complicated race can be, and certainly Dumas doesn't shy away from terrible stuff to say about other black people - there is a clear delineation of the elite, educated, and awesome mixed race people (the Muniers) and the general black populations, who are mostly slaves. Dumas still depicts them more or less as savages, intermittently referring to their simple nature, and even making their propensity for drink a plot point in the book. White people, on the other hand, are not nearly as vilified or even condescended. So Henri and his dad are idiot racists, but they're the straw-villains; I don't care. And god knows it's nice enough that the straw-villains are white people and we're actually, for real, talking about race, and not prejudices people compare to racism, because that doesn't always happen. But otherwise, Henrietta or Sara are not discussed of having feeble minds - nor, actually, is Henri. Most of Georges' closer friends and companions are white; Laiza, in contrast, serves more as a devotee and servant. It's pretty damn clear that Monseiur Dumas has got a couple of things to work out with himself. I don't know if he did, because he really never gets into it, from other books I've read of his, but man, it's complicated.
Henri doesn't even die in the book! Yes, it reminds me of Danglars walking happy at the end of Cristo, and I didn't like it there either. In both there are characters that did comparatively little versus the main villains (Cristo has Villefort, Georges has Lord William) that get harsher punishments, while the person who you're wanting to see hang waltzes away. I suppose it could reflect Dumas' need to show that we don't get everything we want, but hell, at least Danglars repents! Henri I wanted to see at least even more humiliated, though a stabbing would have sufficed.
Georges also suffers Dumas' brand of borderline Mary Sue badassitry. Speaking of Monte Cristo, it's basically Edmond, for both Edmond and Georges suffer only the difficulties of being so ding dang awesome at everything (in Edmond's case, also several years of unfair and hideous treatment in prison). Which, I guess now that I'm older, I have less patience for. In Georges, I did feel somewhat more justified in being okay with it, however, being that it Georges is not typically the type of character I'm used to reading about. Well, okay, a dude who's awesome at everything is something that I'm more than used to, but a minority being that person is a rarity even today. Not to mention that it was nice to see Georges confronted with his pride and arrogance, though his time of mulling about it is pretty brief.
The unfortunate thing is the fact that I do have a lot to love about this book. Even Dumas' introductory descriptions, the way the describes the continent as being able to see all around you, the fact that Sara actually isn't a terribly written character, the moments of sharp clarity Dumas does have about race, these would be enough to recommend this book, and make it difficult to hate. Bits like when Jacques comes back, and Dumas describes the Muniers as one who suffered prejudice, one who exploits prejudice, and one who would fight to the death to destroy it?
DAMN. DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMN.
Dumas is a great wordsmith - that is evident even in translation.
And the action-y parts are super fun! I wish more of it was the revolt, as opposed to saving the cool action scene for the finale, which also kind of stutters to a halt. I got to the notes on my copy and I was like "I'm sorry, what? Why is this next chapter all notes- oh."
So, as I said: I dunno. I'm glad I read this book, and to edit the unseemly bits out would be to do it a discredit, both to the book and the complications of race both outside and within Dumas. But does that make any of the terrible depictions and descriptions any more bearable? I would say not really.