The Count of Monte Cristo, by Alexandre Dumas: A Dumas can Count, needs editor

The Count of Monte Cristo, 

by Alexandre Dumas

Nook Book copy, originally published 1845

 A few weeks late, but here it finally is: my epic rant (could be a lot worse) on the epic word count that is The Count of Monte Cristo:

Once upon a time, in ye olde Napoleonic France, there was a young sailor named Edmund Dantes.  Everything was turning up Edmund:  his hawt girlfriend Mercedes said she’d marry him with two days notice, he was earning enough to take cake of his pop, and he was up for a big promotion to be captain on his boat.  But poor, silly Captain Oblivious, with his one-track mind (did I mention Mercedes was hawt?) failed to see that he was making a lot of dudes jealous.  Dudes like Mercedes’ cousin Ferdinand, who creepily wants a piece, and Danglars (Danglers in my reading), who can’t stand that a teenage boy is more successful than him.   Conspiring with Edmunds drunk tailor neighbor Caderousse, Danglers proves how low he dangles when he more or less manipulates Ferdinand into mailing an anonymous letter stating that Edmund was making nice with Napoleon (currently locked away on an island – kind of a theme in this book/French history).  

Since the monarchists hate Napoleon and his crazy expansionist ideas, Edmund is arrested at his rehearsal dinner or something like it, and continues to have crappy luck:  his judge?  Villefort.  Like Danglers, his name kind of tells us that he’s vile.  Villefort is an unabashed social climber who has daddy issues and has taken another family name so as not to be associated with his Napoleon supporting daddy, Noirtier.  Which means when he reads the “evidence” against Edmund, he freaks the eff out because he’s afraid it’ll link him to his daddy.  So he a) tricks Edmund’s boss into creating false evidence that winds up being used to indict Edmund, and then b) he locks up Edmund in a crappy 18^th century prison on an island in the harbor and throws away the key.  You know, as you do.  

        So now that we know the system is corrupt, Captain Obvious (Edmund) is locked away to rot in solitary for years and years and years.  Thus commences about 400 pages of quivering, gnashing of teeth, moaning, etc.  You know, being pissed you’re in prison.  He does the usual stuff, like try to kill himself, and then after like five or so years of this decides to plan his revenge.  About this time he realizes he can totally hear his wallmate up to something.  Turns out this something is building a series of secret tunnels.  You know, as you do in a prison escape plot.  Edmund and his new buddy, the Abbe, make friends; the Abbe teaches Edmund like six languages and explains to him what anyone else would have picked up on: Edmund got thrown under the bus.  Poor, silly Edmund.  Luckily, when he gets angry, he gets smart.  The Abbe is assumed to be crazy because he claims to have a billion and five dollars in like, Roman coins hidden somewhere.  Edmund, being Edmund, is the only one to believe him, but only after there are lots of long speeches about how they are now besties and like father and son, and oh, I will adopt you and make you my heir with my words.  So then the Abbe gets sick and dies.  Edmund finally shows a glimmer of individual intelligence and switches places with his body to escape.  

Tidbits: I'd like to hear Maurice Sendak's thoughts on these Disney Princes (and more)

• It's a little embarrassing that I haven't gushed about Melina Marchetta in 2012.  It's almost February.  Clearly I'm letting myself go!  FEAR NOT.  An exciting review is in the works, but to tide you over until my next author-crush ramble, she's taken matters into her own hands and updated her website. 
  
• As this month is sponsored by The Count of Monte Cristo, revenge, and the letter J for January, I bring you my new fake nemesis:  Paul Scharner, professional "footballer" (soccer, Americans) and fan of the very book I have sworn to seek revenge upon!  Psshhh.  How could I NOT declare him my nemesis, with hair like this?  Paul and his dastardly football buddies are taking part in the actually highly admirable Premier League literacy drive to help English children learn to read good, and have picked their favorite children's and adult books.  In all seriousness though, I think anything to encourage literacy is high admirable.  Even if you have stupid hair and like The Count of Monte Cristo (150 pages to go before February...).  Thank you Chris for the heads up!  
  
• If you love Ezra Jack Keat's classic children's story, The Snowy Day, check out this NPR story.  I particularly love the photo series of the child that inspired the character Peter.  AND you can listen to Lavar Burton read it to you!  (Butterfly in the skkkkky...thanks to Julia for the heads up!)
  
• Enjoy this ridiculously comprehensive guide to literary tattoos over at Publisher's Weekly. 
  
• And also there, this run-down of movies based on books in the upcoming year.  I still fail to understand why Gatsby is going 3D. 
  
• Did you see Maurice Sendak, brilliant and begrudging mega-children's literature star on the Colbert Report?  (Part 1, Part 2) I would pay cash monies for a Colbert/Sendak picture book.  I especially loved the censorship campaign on the nudity in In the Night Kitchen.  If only censorship were normally that amusing!  If you're looking to get weepy, I recommend listening to the most recent Fresh Air interview with Sendak. 
  
• Annnnd finally, here is the greatest thing I've seen all day:  Disney princes do the cover of men's magazines.  I totally enjoy the related articles on the covers.  My favorite is totally this one:
  
  

Dinner Train: The Count of Monte Cristo - Il Flottante

     Using my rudimentary and not at all dubious French translation skillz (honed in my undergrad years in Canada by listening to public service announcements at train stations) I knew I had a winner of a desert when flipping through Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking desert section and discovering something called Il Flottante.  Loosely translated (using my aforementioned skillz), I deduced that this meant "The Floater."  Which obviously appetizingly means ISLAND.  And you know what is an island?  MONTE CRISTO.  My heart swelled two sizes when I realized it also had nothing in it to murder my allergic to dairy guests! 

     Now, I will caution you, this dish is delish.  But it is really two recipes in one, and you do need to leave yourself enough time to prepare the pralines, let them cool, and additionally to prepare your meringue, and to in turn let that cool.  It's an all day type of recipe, but well worth it.   The best way to describe it is as a French meringue flan.  A few other notes: I doubled the original praline recipe to meet the requirements of the desert.  I also did not use a souffle dish, because I don't have one, but the high sided casserole I used worked just fine.  An electric mixer, either hand or stand, is beyond necessary.  You will be beating eggs all day elsewise, and there are more fun things to beat, like, I dunno, your rugs if you are an extra in Aladdin.  Also, I do recommend pouring out the caramel and then using it as a garnish; I didn't because I thought it would end poorly for me with my notorious lack of motor skills.  I think it consequently became a bit soggy on the bottom.  Finally, good luck not sneaking bites of praline; you're a stronger person that I am! 

Il Flottante
(Translation: "The Floater")

via Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking

serves 6-8

Il Flottante, unreliably translated to mean "the floater."
Perhaps more appetizingly described as an island of flavor that melts in your mouth. 
Kind of like the opiates the Count enjoys, but sans the hallucinogens (sorry to disappoint).

Recipe(s):

Dinner Train: The Count of Monte Cristo - Baked Salmon Mediterranean

Let me just start by saying that yes, I know that salmon is not a Mediterranean fish.  DUH.  I work in a library, I'm all kinds of smaht (but mostly a smartass, according to my Popstar), etc.  But I wanted to do something with fish and something Mediterranean, keeping with the setting of the book, and I did have some dietary restrictions to work around.   Salmon is a fish that fits almost all bills (except for fish haters, but they were not invited).  This recipe...was okay.  I can admit it wasn't my best work.  Then again, I am guilty of doing some stoopids, like forget to use the white wine the recipe suggests, or not really thinking about how much fish I'd need (I used wayyyy too much), or basically buying pre-frozen salmon because it was the only wild salmon at Whole Foods - kids, pre-frozen fish?  It is never as tasty.   Plus, salmon that has been frozen and thawed takes on a well, oddly dark salmon color.  Touche!  I also added spinach, which I'm not sure brought much to the dish. 

If you attempt to make this, do yourself a favor.  Go to an actual fish market, have some selection in your fish.  Also, use the wine.  Double also, use 4-6 oz salmon per guest, not 3 lbs. for 5 people.  Maybe even season it or remove the skin.  Also, follow the directions and make sure the vegetable base is hot like it is meant to be when you put it in the dish, and that you then put it immediately into your hot oven - I cheated, because my guests were arriving, put it in colder, and mine got all white salmon sweaty because it was taking forever to cook and I turned the heat up.  Putting it into a hot sauce and then a hot oven means it'll start cooking right away, reducing your cook time.  Maybe serve your spinach on the side (I didn't include it below, but used about a cup of thawed chopped frozen spinach in the third step), with some well seasoned rice.  I also wonder if this recipe would be better balanced with a white fish.  Perhaps some day I will attempt it again!  But for now, here is my meh main course.  It is Mediterranean by way of the Pacific Northwest.  Which perhaps explains why I keep accidentally typing Baked Salmon Alaska (confession: I am now grossly intrigued by this typo).

Baked Salmon Mediterranean

via Bonfire Health

serves about 6

Recipe:

Dinner Train: The Count of Monte Cristo - Vichyssoise (aka Recipe 31)

     Boom: doubled my money on two New Year's resolutions in one with this "vicious" French soup.  Yes, the real name is vichyssoise, but we're talking revenge here, so vicious vichyssoise it was!  Plus, we all know revenge is a dish best served cold*.  This soup is served cold (and is easily veganized if need be).  No brainer!  Plus, my girl Julia Child put it in her classic cookbook, Mastering the Art of French Cooking, which I felt only appropriate to use for a classic book dinner party.

     I should also add that I have had, for years, and irrational distrust of this soup.  Potatoes in soup have always kind of turned me off.  But you know what?  That's stoopid.  This soup is easy to make and it is tasty, even if it does look like baby food.  Julia, however, let me down by leaving me and my potato hating prejudices a fish out of water in the potato aisle when I had to actually choose a potato.  I read the descriptions and settled on Russets.  They seem to work fine, but as I have no frame of reference...let me know if I failed lesson one in my Mastery of French cooking.  You can make it and serve it completely devoid of dairy, or stir in the cream at the last step.  Voila!  Enjoy:

Vichyssoise
(Translation: a vicious revenge-filled soup served cold)

via Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking, with vegetarian adaptations

Serves approximately 6-8

Vichyssoise: a vicious revenge filled soup best served cold.  Or, more commonly, Cold Leek and Potato Soup

Recipe:

Dinner Train: The Count of Monte Cristo

His boots are so stylish,
but his beard says I'm coming for you.
With my pimp cane.

Mon frer, revenge is a dish best served on a cold and snowy day, with good friends, tasty food, wine, and people who think they can speak French when they've had a sip of said French wine.  Ahem.  Me.  Last night I embarked on challenge one of my 2012 Resolution.  Yes, it was The Count of Monte Cristo night.  Except...of the five of us who present, all whom had never read the book before, only two of us got more than a smidge into it, one of us read the Chaos Walking books instead (way better choice), and one of us found this book and got totally sidetracked.  I mean...who wouldn't.  I've taken to calling it the Mount of Monte Cristo, and I feel that it's got promise to be a far quicker read than The Count of Monte Cristo. 

Because you know what?  While the plot is not bad, Dumas is nothing if not a word fondler.  You heard me.  A dirty rotten word fondler!  He uses 1000 words where 10 will suffice.  I don't need to hear about yet another sailboat!  Or sitting room!  Or the growing quiverings of emotion inside everyone!  Get to the point, word fondler!  More importantly, get to the damn revenge!  I have been reading it for nigh on 21 days now, and I'm only at 575 of 1138 pages on my Nook, and no revenge has yet occurred  (that's another thing - all five of us chose to read it on devices, which is a whole other rumination in and of itself).  I'm going to attempt to finish it, because I can't quit on my first book of the year, right?  But I totally get why people give up on this one.  That said, I think I'm going to have to quit on Anna Karenina already - someone bit off more than she could chew reading-wise when she agreed to run a book a week book-club mini-course for 12th graders in the spring.  Oops!  More on that later, when I perhaps figure out how to post a poll to see what replacement book I should bring up to varsity from the JV book squad.  But I (as per usual) digress. 

I will post my Monte Cristo dinner recipes, of which there are three, but will hold off on the review until I actually, say, FINISH.   This one was a slight challenge, because there were a few dietary challenges that don't exactly fit into the French food friendly category: Vegetarian, Kosher, Dairy-free, Pregnant.  Not wanting to seek revenge, I had to alter my originally scheduled menu, which included swordfish, enemy of both observant Jews and their pregnant friends, and abandon my cheese souffle plans.  But friends, I assure you, I found a way to deliciously use my inner Julia Child for this one, and so can you!  For now, a big thank you to Dave, Lara, Sam, and Arianna for gamely attempting to read this book with me, and for showing up bearing dip, baguette, wine, and madelines to discuss what Dumas is a dumas!  With no further adieu (see, I speak French), il menu (is that Italian?); recipes posted and linked as soon as I type them up later today: 

Dinner Train Menu: The Count of Monte Cristo

Vichyssoise - Revenge is a soup best served cold

Baked Salmon Mediterranean - In which I forget to use the wine

Il Flottante - "The Floater" (how appetizing is my French, you guys?) aka Revenge Island

Vichyssoise

Il Flottante

Baked Salmon Mediterranean