Revenge of the Count

Michael Dirda on The Count of Monte Cristo ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌

In the Review’s April 9 issue, on the occasion of the eight-episode PBS adaptation, Michael Dirda revisits Alexandre Dumas’s The Count of Monte Cristo, “simply the classic novel of revenge”:   The Hound of the Baskervilles might have been more spookily atmospheric, Journey to the Center of the Earth more wondrous, and King Solomon’s Mines even more adventure-packed, but The Count of Monte Cristo offered an overweight, near-sighted kid from a working-class family something irresistible: the possibility of reinvention. If, against all odds, Edmond Dantès could remake himself, so could I. Dumas, who “lived intensely and on a grand scale,” had a genius for “transmuting dry historical records into vibrant page-turners.” In the Mémoires tirés des archives de la police de Paris of 1838, he found an ideal historical record—“about an unjustly imprisoned shoemaker”—for a vibrant 1,243-page novel of “incarceration, escape, and revenge.” Below, alongside Dirda’s essay, are five articles from our archives about Dumas and the French Romantics.   Michael Dirda Dantès’s Inferno When I first read The Count of Monte Cristo, it offered something irresistible: the possibility of reinvention. If, against all odds, Edmond Dantès could remake himself, so could I.   Peter Brooks Behind the Iron Mask “Alexandre Dumas…stands alongside Victor Hugo and Honoré de Balzac as one of the most extravagantly fertile narrative producers of all time. The three of them make of the first half of the French nineteenth century an extraordinary moment for fabulation.” —May 23, 2013   Graham Robb The Pens of the Musketeer “In the list of most frequently translated authors, Dumas appears in eighteenth place, between Pope John Paul II and Arthur Conan Doyle. Le Comte de Monte-Cristo and Les Trois Mousquetaires account for over one third of these translations, but practically all his other works are available in several languages. As Victor Hugo told Dumas’s son in 1872, ‘The name of Alexandre Dumas is more than French, it is European; it is more than European, it is universal.’” —March 20, 2008   Richard Holmes The Fantoms of Théophile Gautier “The rapid, mandarin brilliance of Gautier’s prose was widely recognized and admired, together with his famous facility. ‘It’s all a question of good syntax,’ he would say. ‘I throw my sentences into the air…and like cats I know they will always land on their feet.’ He was also known for his adventurous travel books (dashed off during summer vacations), his love of Mediterranean cooking, his interest in opium, and his uninhibited love of the female nude (ideally in marble, but if necessary in the bath).” —August 14, 2008   Simon Leys Giant “What has contributed to obscure Victor Hugo’s role as the decisive pioneer of modern French poetry—down to its most elitist and hermetic twentieth-century expressions—is the vulgar institutionalization of his colossal fame that took place at the end of his life.” —December 17, 1998   V.S. Pritchett The Disconcerting Sibyl “The spell imposed by George Sand on European and Russian readers and critics in the nineteenth century is understandable; her people and landscapes are silhouettes seen in sheet lightning. For ourselves, what has been left is her notorious life story and the throbbing of her powerful temperament.” —August 17, 1978   New Subscriber Benefit! Subscribers are now able to share unlocked versions of our articles with friends, family, and social media channels. When signed in to your account, look for this gift box icon in any of our articles.   Special Offer Subscribe for just $1 an issue Get the deal Politics   Literature   Arts   Ideas You are receiving this message because you signed up for email newsletters from The New York Review. Update your address or preferences View this newsletter online The New York Review of Books 207 East 32nd Street, New York, NY 10016-6305     Preferences  |  Unsubscribe

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Know Doubt

Plus: The Firebombing of Tokyo; Hungarian Poetry; The Elgin Marbles; The Rafah Crossing; Garry Kasparov ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌

Sponsored by Summer Classics at St. John’s College     Today in The New York Review of Books: Robert Pogue Harrison confronts the plague of ignorance; Joshua Hammer reckons with America’s horrific firebombing of Tokyo; Ange Mlinko reads Hungarian poetry; James Romm looks at the Elgin Marbles; Doha Kahlout takes the Rafah crossing; and, from the archives, Garry Kasparov on machine intelligence.   Robert Pogue Harrison Interminable Ignorance Why has the will to ignorance become so virulent in our time?   Joshua Hammer A Man-Made Disaster There has never been a moral and historical reckoning with the horrors inflicted by the Allied firebombing of Japan during World War II.     Advertisement   Ange Mlinko Mother Daughter Sister Wife A new anthology of female Hungarian poets engages with the nation’s often tragic history through various forms of reticence, misdirection, and playfulness.   James Romm The Marbles & the Muses A.E. Stallings’s reflections on the Elgin Marbles illustrate how beautiful objects have the power to inspire both the noblest effusions and the pettiest efforts at acquisition.     Advertisement   Doha Kahlout, translated by Katharine Halls Elegy for Rafah For the tens of thousands of Gazans who need to leave the Strip but want the chance to come back home, life revolves around the Rafah crossing.   Free from the Archives In the 1990s Garry Kasparov’s chess matches against IBM’s supercomputer Deep Blue set off anxieties about the encroachment of algorithmic intelligence into the human domain—anxieties surely familiar to anyone who has recently read an essay about artificial intelligence. In the Review’s February 11, 2010, issue, he reflected on his experiences beating and losing to Deep Blue: “It was my luck (perhaps my bad luck) to be the world chess champion during the critical years in which computers challenged, then surpassed, human chess players.” Ever a deliberate thinker, Kasparov was, on the one hand, mindful of the effects of the proliferation of chess software—“humans today are starting to play more like computers”—and, on the other, open to the possibilities offered by powerful computers: “What if instead of human versus machine we played as partners?… The idea was to create the highest level of chess ever played, a synthesis of the best of man and machine.” Garry Kasparov The Chess Master and the Computer One of the reasons chess is an “unparalleled laboratory” and a “unique nexus” is that it demands high performance from so many of the brain’s functions. Where so many of these investigations fail on a practical level is by not recognizing the importance of the process of learning and playing chess. The ability to work hard for days on end without losing focus is a talent. The ability to keep absorbing new information after many hours of study is a talent.   Recently in the Review Amir Ahmadi Arian Of Fire and Rain “Then it rained. First the drops were sporadic, then steady, then a downpour cascading off the shed above us. The storm had a strange, metallic odor. ‘Stay under the roof!’ the principal shrieked into a microphone. ‘It’s not rain!’ It was oil, falling in curtains so thick they veiled us from the world.” Jonathan Lethem Frantic Realism Paul Thomas Anderson fits a generation’s worth of cineplex joys into One Battle After Another, but the revolution refuses to get off the couch.   Advertisement   New Subscriber Benefit! Subscribers are now able to share unlocked versions of our articles with friends, family, and social media channels. When signed in to your account, look for this gift box icon in any of our articles.   Special Offer Subscribe for just $1 an issue Get the deal Politics   Literature   Arts   Ideas You are receiving this message because you signed up for email newsletters from The New York Review. Update your address or preferences View this newsletter online The New York Review of Books 207 East 32nd Street, New York, NY 10016-6305       Preferences  |  Unsubscribe