Justice, or something like it

I first read the Count of Monte Cristo when I was seven. Abridged, naturally, and definitely translated, since I still do not know how to read French. The point being, though, that when I read it, Edmond Dantes’ actions seemed perfectly acceptable to me. So what if he did not get the original girl at the end? The bad guys still got kicked hard, and god, he was rich.

The second time I read the book was when I was eleven. Four years translated to around two hundred book pages and definitely flowerier language. Now, though, the first seeds of moral rectitude had grown into strong young saplings, and, while the girl was still not a concern, the coldness of the Count’s actions, and the abhorrence of death had effects on my views on the book. No longer was Dantes a hero one could unreservedly admire. I would not learn of this term till I heard of Wolverine (mind you, I did know of Batman, but he is still a borderline case), but I had had my first encounter with an anti-hero four years ago, and recognised him for one in sixth class.

Another six years would pass before Wikipedia (see the geek links on the right) opened another portal in the deep recesses of knowledge, and I studied the psychological and sociological interpretation of a great many books I had read, including Alexander Dumas Jr.’s magnum opus. And I watched the movie, which I hated. He got the girl in the movie. And he ate the cake too. Oh, and the girl bit did bother me by now. Here is a perfectly willing lady, ready to go the mile to set things right, offering to assuage the pains brought about by another, but no, Mr. Dantes has to remain aloof and uptight, and make a complete ass of himself. He spends money on killing people and driving them mad! As Spock would put it, most illogical.

I still do not know if I am an idealist or a pragmatist. My own contention has been that my ideals have been pragmatic, and this philosophy of mine always prodded me to censure the Count. But much deeper, in  a place where  the Eye of Sauron alone could delve, there was the faintest feeling of satisfaction. It was a vestige from my reading at the age of seven. Maybe. Regardless, this part of me always believed that justice had been long overdue, and though I did not particularly condone this form of justice, the feeling of something right being done did counterbalance my compunction.

As for the girl, who, if you will recall, was a lady of thirty something now, I simply felt if she had been willing to let go and marry the guy who did her paramour in, and would be as easily swayed to the dark side, then she had lost the right to be delivered honourably. In a sense, the Count’s brutal brand of justice appealed to me. There were no means here to consider. They had been done away with early in the story. But the ends, ah. The ends were still to be tied.

Advertisements

3 thoughts on “Justice, or something like it

  1. Anirudh says:

    Sadly, I haven’t read The Count. Nor have I seen the movie. I know the story in bits and pieces. But one thing about most great books is that the way you see it changes over the years.

  2. Murty says:

    I haven’t read the Count’s tales, but will ramble about Batman. The very first time I saw him, I knew this was no ordinary superhero. My collection of Batman Tazos drove this point home forever when I was nine. But, watching the first of the Nolan treatise on the subject, I was forced to wonder if my childhood beliefs were wrong, and this is exactly the part of growing up I hate: you second-guess even yourself. And that’s probably why I’ve become such a horrible quizzer now.

  3. PeeTeeVee says:

    Read this: The Idea of Justice, Amartya Sen.
    It’s badly written, but interesting anyway.
    About Batman: He isn’t comparable to too many Heros or Anti-Heros, He’s in a league of his own.
    And Comte de Monte Cristo is still one scary character from an altogether twisted book. It’s passionate though, which I like a lot.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s