Matthew Miner

The Count of Monte Cristo

After an eternity I finished reading The Count of Monte Cristo. It’s a lengthy tale. It contains everything a novel should: a daring prison escape, secret identities, hidden treasure, duels, revenge, murder, endless gossip among the fashionable elites of Paris.

The Count of Monte Cristo book spine

The protagonist starts a humble seafarer but becomes superhuman, accomplished at everything from marksmanship to disguises to toxicology. But my favourite superpower? Punctuality.

“I warn you, I am fearfully punctual.”

“The hand of your clock will not be more punctual than I.”

“Punctuality,” said Monte Cristo, “is the politeness of kings.”

I bet that showing up on time was no easy feat in the nineteenth century, what with mechanical watches you had to wind daily and horses your most reliable mode of transportation. It helps that Monte Cristo has sweet horses.

Meanwhile the count had arrived at his house. The journey had taken him six minutes, and these six minutes had been enough for him to be seen by twenty young men who, recognizing the cost of a team that was well beyond their means, had spurred their mounts to a gallop so that they could catch a glimpse of this noble lord who paid ten thousand francs apiece for his horses.

Dumas writes about expensive horses and carriages the way we talk about Lamborghinis and Cybertrucks. Coupé, landau, phaeton, barouche, post-chaise — I don’t know what any of these are, but I appreciate that he assumes I do.

For Monte Cristo superfans, Wikipedia lists 14 TV shows and 30 movies in the MCU (Monte Cristo Universe). I watched three: the 2002 American version; the 2024 French epic; and Wishbone episode 27, “The Count’s Account”. All are entertaining, but Wishbone is the winner. It crams a book I spent months reading into a half hour episode, complete with a parallel plot about a dipshit bully who ruins a lady’s garden to frame the neighbourhood nerd and that nerd’s subsequent revenge.

You know what each adaptation is missing though? The count’s punctuality. Edmond Dantès’ most formidable superpower, not mentioned a single time. C’mon Hollywood.