Because I (somehow, for no discernible reason once you think about it for more than three seconds) believe that starting on Alexandre Dumas's The Count of Monte Cristo right now, when I have more work to do than ever before, is of The Good, I've furthermore decided this process needs blogging. It does not. I am going to do it anyway, despite the previous sentence repeating itself in my mind to a startling degree and with an ever-increasing number of exclamation marks attached.
I should mention I need to be done with this by the twenty-seventh as I am leaving the country until June at least and I am not about to bring the book with me. Moreover, before I catch my plane, I must finish my graduate school applications, review potential BA thesis outlines, and catch up on coursework–among other things that need to Get Done.
I am going to use the 2003 Penguin Classics edition, translated by Robin Buss with an introduction and notes and which has 1,243 pages sans any of the extra information. That's 1,243 pages of just the novel. Right.
I wonder... When you're Alexandre Dumas (père) and Auguste Maquet hands you a clever story outline and notes on interesting characters, do you laugh yourself out of your chair when Maquet accidentally brains himself while facedesking when he sees the behemoth you have come up with out of his notes? I don't know if this actually happened (pro'ly not), but no one can convince me Maquet was not picking his jaw off the floor each time Dumas handed him a spankin' new pile of pages.
The novel is divided into a hundred and seventeen (!) chapters, which is a handy number, as it is divisible by both three and nine. We'll be doing this in posts of either three, six or nine chapters per post. Hopefully. Well... I'm being optimistic here. Here's hoping I don't bow out five chapters in.
And of course I'm not going to start now. (I've got the Golden Globes to watch, man.)