I wavered between four and five stars on this one, but I totally have to go with the five. It’s just that awesome. I was actually a little surprised at how much I loved this book. I mean, I love swashbucklers and historical fiction…Dumas père is my man, but the only other Sabatini novel I’ve read, Venetian Masque, I found to be a little underwhelming so I did not expect this from Sabatini. Speaking of Dumas, I almost think that _Scaramouche_ can be placed in the same company as that master’s great work _The Count of Monte Cristo_, no small praise from me. It doesn’t quite have the same level of intricate plotting as the latter, and I will never give pride of place to any but Monsieur le Comte, but it is still an awesome read filled with exciting ups and downs as we follow the trials and triumphs of the title character aka Andre-Louis Moreau. I actually noticed that Moreau shared some similarities with Dantès as a character, at least in the fact that both of them seemed to have a Batman-like ability to adopt nearly any skill they required to further their own ends. For Moreau this leads him to start out as a lawyer with exceptional reasoning and speaking skills, become a brilliant actor, stage writer and theatre impresario, then move on to master the art of the sword and become a maître d'armes, and finally to enter the realm of politics all within a span of two years. That’s ok, I don’t mind it if my heroes are super and Moreau pairs his ability with an acerbic wit and keen insight I found both refreshing and awesome.I have to add here that I ‘read’ this as an audiobook downloaded from Librivox. Now the narrators from Librivox, given that it is a free site, can be…how to put this delicately? Crappy. Not so this one. The narrator Gordon Mackenzie was fantastic. He had just the right pacing, didn’t stumble on his words (you’d think that would be a prerequisite for narrating an audio book, wouldn’t you?), and was able to voice each character differently without sounding completely ludicrous. He even managed the French phrases and Latin epigrams with no apparent effort. Excellent job Mr. Mackenzie! I really think his work on this added to my already superlative enjoyment of the text itself.Given that this is a classic I imagine that many already know the plot, at least in broad strokes: Andre-Louis Moreau is a bastard of no name, taken in as the “godson” of the local seigneur of the village of Gavrillac (amidst the knowing glances and whispers of the locals). He is a young man of intelligence and wit, known primarily for his acerbic tongue and incisive reasoning, who acts as the legal representative of his godfather, M. de Kercadiou. His best friend, Philippe de Vilmorin, is a young seminarian who also happens to have revolutionary political leanings. When a local peasant is summarily killed by a local noble, the Marquis de la Tour d'Azyr, Philippe tries to convince the nobleman to recompense the dead man’s family for the deed. Incensed, and sensing in the eloquent young man one who could stir the mounting discontent of the people that is beginning to raise its head in France, d’Azyr decides he must get rid of this possible thorn in the side of his class. An expert fencer, perhaps the best in France, d’Azyr forces the fledgling Philippe into challenging him to a duel and handily dispatches the young man, whose own abilities with the sword are non-existent. It is this act of bald-faced murder (and the subsequent inability of the young lawyer to gain any justice from the established powers) that sends young Bruce Wayne, er Andre-Louis, on his road of vengeance against the man, and the class, that killed his friend in cold blood.As we follow Andre-Louis in his quest we see him taking up the mantle left by his dead friend and using his own eloquence to stir up the crowds against their unjust masters. Forced into hiding when his name and actions become know, Moreau manages to join a travelling band of actors who mount plays based on the fading style of the Commedia dell'Arte and, after establishing himself as not only an excellent actor and writer, but even a company manager of some skill Moreau takes on the role of Scaramouche (one that is uniquely suited to his outlook and abilities) and proceeds to lead the troupe to the verge of fame and fortune. Along the way he falls in love and ultimately finds himself once again crossing paths with his avowed enemy, seemingly driven by the hand of fate. Moreau encounters numerous dangers and escapes in his years of hiding which I won’t recount here…read the book and enjoy them to the full yourself! Suffice it to say that the nascent revolution turns the tables and thrusts Andre-Louis into a position of power. It is a position that is not so easily taken advantage of, despite Andre-Louis’ apparent single-mindedness in regards to his quest, and the conclusion of the tale is satisfying and much more complex than one might be given to expect from a work in this genre. I thought Sabatini’s prose was great. His turns of phrase, especially in the mouth of Moreau, were sublime and the text is littered with an abundance of bon mots. His characters also shine and often manage to attain a level of complexity that goes beyond the one dimensional duality of good-guy/bad-guy one might expect. While I was always cheering for Moreau and loved his character, he is not always an eminently likeable guy and even the sneering and vain arch-rival the Marquis de la Tour d'Azyr manages to show himself to be something more complex than a mustachio-twirling villain. Bottom line: this book was great. I don’t know why I took so long to read it, but I’m very glad I finally did. I’ll be revisiting this one many times in the future.Highly recommended.Also posted at Shelf Inflicted
Rafael Sabatini (1875-1950) joined a long list of authors writing historical fiction of much the same genre – Alexander Dumas, père, with his The Three Musketeers, Charles Dickens with his A Tale of Two Cities, and Baroness Emma Orczy with her The Scarlet Pimpernel, come immediately to mind. Like these latter two writers, Sabatini’s novel takes place immediately before and during the early years of the French Revolution, his story ending at the beginning of the Reign of Terror. It’s hero is Andre-Louis Moreau, a young man of uncertain parentage who is the godson of M. de Kercadiou (of whom he is popularly assumed to be the illegitimate son). Moreau grows up to be a lawyer, but when his best friend is callously slain in a duel with the villainous Marquis de la Tour D’Azyr, who fears that the young man’s verbal eloquence will be used in the struggle of the popular Third Estate against the entrenched force of Privilege, Moreau’s life takes a drastic turn as he determines to hound D’Azyr to his death and to champion the position of his own dead friend, even though Moreau’s political ideas are unformed. First Moreau’s stirs up popular feelings in Renne and Nantes with his own oratory. Then, when pursued by those opposed to populist sentiment, he becomes a member of a peripatetic band of improvisatory players performing plays of the commedia dell’Arte variety, Moreau playing the part of Scaramouche, a stock character described as “sly, adroit, supple, and conceited.” But Moreau’s path continues regularly to cross that of D’Azyr, creating deepening enmity between the two. Circumstances force Moreau to abandon his player’s role and go to Paris where he becomes a master fencer and proprietor of a fencing academy. Ultimately events at the beginning of the Reign of Terror conspire to force an ultimate confrontation between Moreau and D’Azyr, a sequence of events that reveals Moreau’s parentage and determines his subsequent fate.Without question a lighter novel than the others mentioned above, Sabatini’s work does have its merits. Moreau himself is an evolving character, a person whose ideas and self-awareness develop over time and whose ambiguities of personality are real and convincing. If most of the other characters in the novel are more two-dimensional, they are nonetheless sufficiently vividly drawn to be interesting and memorable. The novel also provides an interesting perspective on the political events in France at the time, and Sabatini has used Moreau’s own social and political ambivalence, causing him in response to circumstances to change “sides” a number of times, to illuminate the ambiguities in which many people found themselves during the Revolution.I found this novel to be entertaining and a rather quick read. Its vividness and imaginativeness are perhaps its greatest recommendations. There is nothing particularly memorable about the writing itself, and it comfortably fits into the genre of swashbuckler. As great literature it does not pass the test, but as a fun and well-told story it can be praised.Sabatini’s own gravestone contains this novel’s wonderful first sentence: “He was born with the gift of laughter and a sense that the world was mad.”
Do You like book Scaramouche (2001)?
You know you want to.So most people recognize "Scaramouche" from Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody, but the original story started in the 17th century in the Italian theater. You probably recognize him when you see him:In Sabatini's story Andre-Louis Moreau witnesses the death of his best friend at the hands of a nasty aristocrat, and thus dedicates his life to taking down the mean ol bastard. Andre-Louis goes into hiding as - surprise! - Scaramouche in a traveling troupe. Then there's plenty of swashbuckling and excitement which all is quite swoon-worthy.There's also a lot of French politics which started out to be interesting but eventually I just wanted more bloodshed because I'm wicked like that. I want my swashbuckling to be full of blood and Errol Flynn-types, not a diatribe against the aristocrats; it's like trying to watch a porn where there's too much dialogue. Who signed up for that?Also Sabatini used the phrase "Name of a name!" more often than I felt was necessary. I'm not sure if it was the French equivalent to something like "Son of a beyotch!", but it was distracting and annoying after a while. I would have preferred the Shakespearean thumb-biting to that since Sabatini's really came across as a pansy-ass sort of insult. Then again, it's a work-friendly phrase, so maybe I'll start using that in the office since no one will think it actually could be anything bad.Still, it's a fun read, and I hope to get my hands on a copy of some of Sabatini's other works. I've heard that Captain Blood is pretty good, and there's that word "blood" right in the title so you know it's got to be downright awesome and dirty. (And if it's not, please just let me dwell under the illusion that it is. I'll disappoint myself later, thanks.)
—El
Before the reader has had time to settle in, the beloved friend of Monsieur Moreau (soon to be known as Scaramouche) - the pair being young petites bourgeoises with noble dreams of a France committed to liberté, égalité, fraternité - is slain by the haughty and unyielding aristocrat the Marquis de la Tour d'Azyr (one of literature's great antagonists), husband-to-be of Scaramouche's cousin Aline. Our hero - less one dear friend - will be forced to flee the long arm of justice after being condemned as a rabble rouser. His subsequent journeys - fueled by the gross injustice of Tour d'Azyr and a burning desire for revenge - will lead him from itinerant performer to master swordsman in the turbulent Paris of the dawn of the Revolution.Will there be wicked swordplay? Oh yes, indeedy! Will there be lusty romance? Bet on it, Stu! Will there be wonderful characters galore? Bien sur, mes amis! Will there be a final showdown between Scaramouche and Tour d'Azyr on a stage replete with a tear-shedding mother and the flickering shadows of several loosely dangling ends about to be tied up? Take it to the bank, dear reader! The bottom line? Romantic fiction featuring swashbuckling and cunning gallants with the French Revolution as a glorious backdrop simply doesn't get any better than Sabatini's fantastic page-turner.
—Szplug
Seminal novels have a curious tendency of being very much unlike the genres they inspire. It's something I've explored before, in The Lord of the Rings (fantasy), The Virginian (western), and The Moonstone (mystery), and Scaramouche definitely resembles the latter two in how they stray from what we might expect.Firstly, we have an unusually introspective, complex protagonist. Much less the dashing hero, we are shown a doubting cynic, a recluse who sees the cruel inequality of the world and does his best to avoid it. Yet it is a world he must live in, and so he finds himself thrust again and again into complications from which he strives to extricate himself.The second similarity with those other formative works is the quirky, meandering plot. It is certainly not what we would expect; we bear witness to only two swordfights in the book, one at the beginning, and one near the end (though a few others are mentioned).The very beginning of the book is concerned mainly with the political philosophies which lead to the French Revolution. But we dispense with that rather quickly, and spend the following two thirds of the book exploring the forms and history of the Commedia Dell'Arte.But, of course, I don't have to explain about that vital and influential form to you. Like me, you probably grew up around Commedia actors, and over a hundred or so scattered performances, witnessing the infinite variations on the theme and marveling at the extemporaneous wit of its sprightly practitioners. Perhaps you, like me, had a little stuffed bear named for the old miser, Pantalone.But even a cave-dweller who had never heard of the Commedia, and did not recognize it in Pagliacci, Punch, and Pantos could derive amusement from the ways Sabitini explores it. His is not precisely a scholarly analysis, but more of a playful jaunt through the style, relating its plots and characters to the overblown melodramas which politics and social status inevitably produce.At length he leaves the Commedia behind, and we are treated to an amusing view of the different forms and schools of fencing, and of its vital place in a culture of duelists--the ideal culture for a swashbuckling tale. Like most young men, I spent my time as both student and tutor of swordsmanship, so this was another delightful moment of youthful nostalgia--though again, Sabitini merely plays on the surface of the art of fencing. I could have done with a more in-depth discussion of line, distance, and form, perhaps with some diagrams, but it was amusing, nonetheless.I was able to quickly guess the two-part 'twist' ending, but that was hardly bothersome, since it was only a small part of the book. It did nothing to lessen the delightful verve with which it was written, the complexity of the characters (including a very sympathetic villain), the many and varied inspirations, and the concise structure of the plot. Scaramouche is lively, intelligent, and like most pulps, devoid of pretension, showing once again that the best way to promote skill and wit is simply to demonstrate them.
—J.G. Keely
