Celebrated Crimes Series

To paraphrase the note from the translator, The Celebrated Crimes of Alexandre Dumas père was not written for children. The novelist has spared no language—has minced no words—to describe violent scenes of violent times. In this, the tenth of the series, Dumas places us at the court of Joan of Naples, a beautiful, emotional, highly capable woman at the center of thirty years of plotting, betrayal, intrigue, war, beauty, love and death. Hers is a world at war between both secular and ecclesiastical centers of power: the Pope at Avignon, the king in France, the emperor in Germany, and most importantly for her story, the kings of Hungary, so far away in culture and temperament, so close across the Adriatic Sea. Personal, political and social forces lead to her connivance in the death of her husband, forces which eventually lead to her own death as well. This is the world that Niccolo Machiavelli knew so well and described so precisely: a world where networks of competing interests writhe and clash, where enemies become friends and friends become enemies with startling speed, where the highest courage and the basest cowardice can combine in the same person. Enjoy!

To paraphrase the note from the translator, The Celebrated Crimes of Alexandre Dumas père was not written for children. The novelist has spared no language—has minced no words—to describe violent scenes of violent times. In this, the thirteenth of the series, Dumas, the novelist-historian, finds ample scope for his favorite approach. His subject is a well-documented historical figure: Ali Tepelini, most often known as Ali Pasha, and known even in his own day as The Lion of Tepelen. Dumas presents us with an extraordinary character, a man of tremendous courage, unstoppable tenacity, matchless duplicity, extreme debauchery, disgusting cruelty, and amazing ingenuity. Ali Pasha rose from a homeless teenage brigand robbing travelers on the roads of his native Albania to one of the most powerful and wealthy viziers of the Ottoman empire, the sole absolute ruler of much of what is now Greece, Albania, and other parts of the Balkans. Although he never intended to do so, he helped trigger the revolt that freed Greece from Turkish rule, a process that put the Ottoman Empire on the road to its final collapse. Ali traces his life from his earliest days throughout his career of crime until his violent death and its aftermath. Of course, Dumas, the dramatist and novelist, cannot help embellishing the work of Dumas, the historian. He gives us words and actions that cannot possibly be part of the historical record from scenes that are as effectively histrionic as they are undocumented. However, all his melodrama is well based on his history, and he certainly makes a wonderful tale out of his materials. Dumas may have collaborated on this, as he frequently did in his works, with other writers. Nevertheless, it is clearly Dumas who has the final say on this work, as with all the other works in this series. Enjoy!

To paraphrase the note from the translator, The Celebrated Crimes of Alexandre Dumas père was not written for children. The novelist has spared no language—has minced no words—to describe violent scenes of violent times. In this, the fifteenth of the series, Dumas, the novelist-historian, brings his story-telling skills to a subject famous at the time, but less so now: Joachim Murat, the brother-in-law of Napoleon Bonapart, who established him as King Joachim the First of Naples. Joachim is nothing if not an attractive, indeed romantic, hero. A man of extraordinary courage, instrumental in at least three of Napoleon's greatest victories; a man loyal to a fault to his friends, tender and loving to his wife and family, yet also a man of boundless ambition. His courage drove him to greatness; his ambition brought about his fall. Dumas has one focus throughout this series: great crimes. As we progress through this story, we begin to wonder: where's the crime? We have derring-do, we have intrigue, we have hairbreadth escapes, we have great dangers, both from the forces of nature and from the hands of man, but we have no crime. That is, until we reach the very end, and then we have a monstrous act indeed, done by the orders of the highest of royalty. Of course, Dumas, the dramatist and novelist, cannot help embellishing the work of Dumas, the historian. He gives us words and actions that cannot possibly be part of the historical record from scenes that are as effectively histrionic as they are undocumented. However, all his melodrama is well based on his history, and he certainly makes a wonderful tale out of his materials. Dumas may have collaborated on this, as he frequently did in his works, with other writers. Nevertheless, it is clearly Dumas who has the final say on this work, as with all the other works in this series. Enjoy!

To paraphrase the note from the translator, The Celebrated Crimes of Alexandre Dumas père was not written for children. The novelist has spared no language—has minced no words—to describe violent scenes of violent times. In this, the twelfth of the series, Dumas, the novelist-historian, is back in full force. His subject is a well-documented historical fact: that a man named Arnaud du Thil was able to pass, for two years, as Martin Guerre, deceiving the fellow-villages, neighbors, friends, family and even the wife of Martin Guerre with equal success, even to the point of becoming the father of two children by Martin Guerre's wife. The uncanny resemblance between the two men and the amazing sang-froid of the imposter created as situation that has fascinated historians, playwrights, novelists and moviemakers for well over four hundred years. Of course, Dumas, the dramatist and novelist, cannot help embellishing the work of Dumas, the historian. He gives us words and actions that cannot possibly be part of the historical record from scenes that are as effectively histrionic as they are undocumented. However, all his melodrama is well based on his history, and he certainly makes a wonderful tale out of his materials. Dumas collaborated on this, as he frequently did in his works, with Fournier, who worked with him on several of his dramas as well. Nevertheless, it is clearly Dumas who has the final say on this work, as with all the other works in this series. Enjoy!

To paraphrase the note from the translator, The Celebrated Crimes of Alexandre Dumas père was not written for children. The novelist has spared no language—has minced no words—to describe violent scenes of violent times. In this, the fourteenth of the series, Dumas, the novelist-historian, brings his story-telling skills to a famous subject: the background of one of the most famouse of French lawsuits, that centering around the secret abduction of Bernard de la Guiche, later Count of Saint-Geran, from the child-bed of his mother Suzanne de Longaunay, by the Marquis de Saint-Maixant--a notorious womanizer, schemer, and probably murderer. Dumas gives us the whole story, basing his tale on well-established historical sources, from the time when the Marquis first insinuated himself into the family to the outcome of the lawsuit contesting Bernard's identity and legitimacy as the heir of the La Guiche fortune. It is a story of remarkable perfidy, cruelt and betrayal of trust. Of course, Dumas, the dramatist and novelist, cannot help embellishing the work of Dumas, the historian. He gives us words and actions that cannot possibly be part of the historical record from scenes that are as effectively histrionic as they are undocumented. However, all his melodrama is well based on his history, and he certainly makes a wonderful tale out of his materials. Dumas may have collaborated on this, as he frequently did in his works, with other writers. Nevertheless, it is clearly Dumas who has the final say on this work, as with all the other works in this series. Enjoy!

To paraphrase the note from the translator, The Celebrated Crimes of Alexandre Dumas père was not written for children. The novelist has spared no language—has minced no words—to describe violent scenes of violent times. In this, the eleventh of the series, Dumas switches away from his usual narrative style and gives us, instead, a detailed review--almost a bibliographic essay--on the various ideas and theories advanced by historians, speculative writers and critics on one of the enduring fascinations of French royal history: the case of The Man in the Iron Mask. Ever since the time of Louis XIV, the story has been told of a man mysteriously snatched out of the world and buried for life, not merely in a prison cell, but also in an mask of iron: an imprisonment designed to ensure that no one would ever know his name or even see his face. Dumas asks, who was the man in the iron mask? Why was he imprisoned? Why were such strange precautions taken, and why was he treated with such respect and care, given everything he asked for--except his freedom and his name? Dumas is very scrupulous about his sources, carefully citing the full bibliographic details, while also indulging his novelist's flair for the dramatic. This recording preserves all that, to give the listener the full air of authenticity Dumas so carefully manufactures. Enjoy!

To paraphrase the note from the translator, The Celebrated Crimes of Alexandre Dumas père was not written for children. The novelist has spared no language—has minced no words—to describe violent scenes of violent times. In this, the seventeenth of the series, Dumas, in this case more a novelist rather than a historian, turns his attention to a story from Russia: that of Vaninka. Her father was a Russian count and a general in the Russian Imperial army under Paul I. She falls in love with one of her father's officers, whose tragic but accidental death leads her to a savage crime. Ironically, bringing her to justice requires a great perversion of justice itself. This story is historical romance, not history. It does show us something of the life of Russia at the time, and takes a side trip through part of the Napoleonic wars, but the focus is firmly on the price a beautiful young girl pays for her arrogant willingness to play fpr keeps with human hearts. Dumas may have collaborated on this, as he frequently did in his works, with other writers. Nevertheless, it is clearly Dumas who has the final say on this work, as with all the other works in this series. Enjoy!

To paraphrase the note from the translator, The Celebrated Crimes of Alexandre Dumas père was not written for children. The novelist has spared no language—has minced no words—to describe violent scenes of violent times. In this, the sixteenth of the series, Dumas, the novelist-historian, brings his story-telling skills to a subject no less than infamous at the time and which still holds a fascination for us: Marie-Madeleine-Marguerite d'Aubray, Marquise de Brinvilliers. The Marquise was tried, convicted, and executed for poisoning her father and two of her brothers. It appears that she learned the art of the poisoner from her lover, Godin de Sainte-Croix. She also targeted, but did not kill, her sister, a Carmelite nun. Her case launched what is known in French history as the Affair of the Poisons, a long-running judicial scandal which led to the execution or imprisonment of dozens of people, many of the highest rank in French society, including prominent members of the court of Louis XIV. Although Duma's book on Brinvilliers has been dismissed as mere historical fiction, in reality it is solidly based on the documents of the time and on prior historical treatments of the case. Shocking as it is to suppose, this beautiful and cultured Frenchwoman was indeed a formidable murderess. Of course, Dumas, the dramatist and novelist, cannot help embellishing the work of Dumas, the historian. It becomes clear that his true interest lies not in the events, but in the character of Brinvilliers herself, as she confronts the rapidly approaching fact of her own torture and execution. Approximately half the book is devoted to the conversations between the Marquise and Edmond Pirot, a theologian of the Sorbonne, who acted as her chaplain and confessor during the last days of her life. The give-and-take between them is an interesting dramatization of the workings of conscience and remorse. Dumas may have collaborated on this, as he frequently did in his works, with other writers. Nevertheless, it is clearly Dumas who has the final say on this work, as with all the other works in this series. Enjoy!

To paraphrase the note from the translator, The Celebrated Crimes of Alexandre Dumas père was not written for children. The novelist has spared no language—has minced no words—to describe violent scenes of violent times. In this, the eighteenth of the series, Dumas explores the history of a famous French aristocratic family: that of Marie de Rossan, also known as Diane de Joannis de Roussan and as Anne-Elisabeth De Rossan, but in any case the Marquise de Ganges and La Belle Belle Provençale: often described as the most beautiful woman of her time. It was, indeed, her beauty that undid her. After the death of her first husband, she heard of the Marquis de Gange; she heard of him as the handsomest man in France, and she could not resist the urge to meet him. They met, they married, and the rest is history--bloody, violent and terrible history, completely opposite to the sweet romance with which it began. Dumas tells her story in full, and also takes us through the tales of her husband, her children, and the men who murdered her--and that group may include her husband as well. Dumas may have collaborated on this, as he frequently did in his works, with other writers. Nevertheless, it is clearly Dumas who has the final say on this work, as with all the other works in this series. Enjoy!

To paraphrase the note from the translator, The Celebrated Crimes of Alexandre Dumas père was not written for children. The novelist has spared no language—has minced no words—to describe violent scenes of violent times. In this, the first of the series, Dumas tells the luridly sexy, amazingly violent, and strikingly amoral story of the three most famous members of the Borgia family - Pope Alexander VI, Lucrezia, and above all Cesare. Never one to allow a mere fact to stand in the way of a good story, Dumas puts all the most sensational accusations made against the Borgias--mostly by their enemies--to the fullest use, which certainly distorts history, but makes for a great tale. Also, he often takes the novelist's approach, giving us details of scenes for which there is no historical record--we are given, for example, a wonderful description of the look on Cesare Borgia's face as he breaks out of his Spanish prison, something not even Cesare himself could have seen, and he was alone at the time. Again, as the translator notes, "The careful, mature reader, for whom the books are intended, will recognize, and allow for, this fact." We're reading Dumas here, not Tuchman or Toynbee. Dumas gives us a sweeping tale of simony, betrayal, connivance, conquest both military and sexual, and above all death - on the battlefield in war, on the streets in brutal murder, in the dark by strangulation, at the table by poison. It is a tale of events and personalities that shook Europe and created the modern myth of the Renaissance prince, so well described by Machiavelli. Enjoy! Note: The modern reader will see that certain passages in the book are marked by unmistakable anti-Semitism. As it is both useless to deny, and worthwhile to remember, that anti-Semitism was a cultural norm in Dumas' times, those passages have been left as written.

To paraphrase the note from the translator, The Celebrated Crimes of Alexandre Dumas père was not written for children. The novelist has spared no language—has minced no words—to describe violent scenes of violent times. In this, the eighth of the series, Dumas explores the depths of a soul, that of Antonin Derues, a man capable of the most amazing hypocrisy, perfidy, and cruelty. He was what we would know today as an extreme sociopath, a man willing to lie, cheat, steal and kill out of overwhelming avarice, with little or not compassion for his victims, or even understanding of what he forced upon them. The place is Paris; the time is just before the Revolution. Dumas has no love for his subject; in several passages he lashes out at him with downright fury, and everywhere spares no pains to show us the worst of him. As is typical of his approach, he bases his story on the facts of the case, but does not hesitate to supply thoughts, words, and actions of his characters out of his imagination, in circumstances where no record of them can possibly exist. Although he lays no stress upon it, his story of the hideous carrier of this infamous criminal also indicts the society of the time; a society in which a man who created a thorough appearance of the forms of religious feeling diverted all attention from his true nature--as shown by his actions. If ever there was a story in which we are happy to see the bad guy get his comeuppance, it is certainly this one. Enjoy!

To paraphrase the note from the translator, The Celebrated Crimes of Alexandre Dumas père was not written for children. The novelist has spared no language—has minced no words—to describe violent scenes of violent times. In this, the fourth of the series, Dumas tells the story of Mary Stuary, Queen of Scots--a story both strikingly touching and almost morbidly violent. Never one to allow a mere fact to stand in the way of a good story, though very sympathetic to Mary, Dumas puts all the most sensational accusations made against her--mostly by her enemies--to circumspect yet full use, which certainly distorts history, but makes for a great tale. Also, he often takes the novelist's approach, giving us details of scenes for which there can be no historical record--we are given, for example, a wonderful description of Darnley's actions and feelings at Kirk of Field as his enemies prepared to blow the house sky-high with him in it, despite the fact that Darnley was alone at the time and died in the explosion. As the translator notes, "The careful, mature reader, for whom the books are intended, will recognize, and allow for" Dumas' love of sensationalism. We're reading Dumas here, not Tuchman or Toynbee. Dumas gives us a sweeping tale of love, hatred, betrayal, connivance, conquest both military and sexual, and above all the fragility of royalty--a form of greatness that can disappear like a bubble. It is a tale of events and personalities that shook Europe and created both a potent historical influence and an unfailing fountain of romance. Enjoy!

To paraphrase the note from the translator, The Celebrated Crimes of Alexandre Dumas père was not written for children. The novelist has spared no language—has minced no words—to describe violent scenes of violent times. In this, the sixth of the series, Dumas tells the story of Urbain Grandier, a Catholic priest, little known to the English-speaking world, but famous among French speakers; he was the target of a religous and political conspiracy that began among his personal and political enemies in the town of Loudon and ended at the highest levels of political and religious power in the kingdom of France, with the direct involvement of Cardinal Richelieu and possibly of the king himself. Grandier was handsome; Grandier was magnetic; Grandier was highly attractive to women. He was also arrogant, vindictive, and bitterly exacting of every jot and tittle of his rights. These qualities ran him foul of the religious and political bigwigs of the small, provincial town of Loudon. He made many enemies; they made up their minds to kill the man, and kill him they did. They plotted to create the appearance of witchcraft on the loose by arranging for what would look like demonic possession among the nuns of the Ursuline convent at Loudon, so that they could pin a charge of witchcraft on Grandier. However, once they turned their wild horses loose, they had no choice but to ride them; what began as a personal vendetta turned into a devil's nightmare of a lurid witchhunt and trial. Though Dumas clearly takes Grandier's part, he is quite objective about how Grandier, faced with a noose strung up by his enemies, could not restrain himself from putting his head into it and grinning. Dumas shows clearly how his enemies went to work with a will to do what has necessary from that point. In this volume, he is less then novelist than the historian, but he brings all the figures involved fully to life. He leaves us shaking our heads at the depths of murderous passion and barbarous cruelty hidden under the mask of religious fervor. Enjoy!

To paraphrase the note from the translator, The Celebrated Crimes of Alexandre Dumas père was not written for children. The novelist has spared no language—has minced no words—to describe violent scenes of violent times. In this, the fourth of the series, Dumas tells the story of Karl-Ludwig Sand, a man little known to the English-speaking world, but famous among German speakers; he was the man who assassinated August von Kotzebue, a vigorous advocate of Russia's interests and the interests of the Austrian Empire. In the years immediately following the fall of Napoleon, many people in Germany, particularly young people, were eagerly anticipating the coming of liberal goverment. Much to their dismay, the autocratic governments existing before the war were not only re-established, but put great energy to ensuring that a liberal revolution would never happen. Karl-Ludwig Sand, a young German student, became convinced that Kotzebue was the key figure in this wave of repression. He made up his mind to kill the man, and kill him he did. Dumas gives us an intimate and revealing portrait of Sand's intellectual and emotional development, tracing with the hand of a master novelist the development of the character not of a fiction, but of an actual man. It is particularly interesting because Dumas, quite the advocate of liberal government himself, is clearly sympathetic toward Sand, though he clearly portrays the brutality of the murder of Kotzebue and the unstable trend of sand's mind leading up to it. In particular, through extensive transcriptions of Sand's journals and letters, he shows how this deeply Christian man became a deeply Christian assassin. Enjoy!

To paraphrase the note from the translator, The Celebrated Crimes of Alexandre Dumas père was not written for children. The novelist has spared no language—has minced no words—to describe violent scenes of violent times. However, in this, the seventh of the series, Dumas turns away from the bitter hatreds and bloody cruelty of the preceding stories. He lets the novelist take over from the historian, giving free rein to his storytelling instincts. The story of Nisida is worthy of an Italian opera in the great romantic tradition, and indeed Donizetti attempted it, but without success. It is the story of an attempt by a womanizing nobleman to seduce and ruin the daughter of a poor but admirable fisherman, an attempt that ends in his death at the hands of her brother, who is then sentenced to die and is executed, but not by the hands of the law. The story is told in lush and melodramatic style, tending in places to comedy. It is as if Dumas just had to give himself a break after the harsh, tense history of the preceding titles in the series, and turned his gift for melodrama and high coloring loose with a passion. Dumas does claim that the story is based on the records of an actual case. If so, the case is well buried, or Dumas changed too many names and details to permit us to track it down with certainty. Enjoy!

To paraphrase the note from the translator, The Celebrated Crimes of Alexandre Dumas père was not written for children. The novelist has spared no language - has minced no words - to describe violent scenes of violent times. In this, the third of the series, Dumas tells the story of three centuries of sectarian violence and civil war between the Protestants and the Catholics of the south of France. His approach is both personal and partisan; he clearly has great admiration for some of the figures he presents, while others equally clearly disgust him. His story becomes all the more personal when he presents his own experience of witnessing the brutal murder a Protestant at the hands of Catholics; however, the novelist seems to run ahead of the historian or the biographer here, as the events he describes occured in 1815, when he was only 13 years old--too young to be married, as he is in the story he tells. Dumas is never guilty of allowing the truth to get in the way of a good story. However, as the translator notes, "The careful, mature reader, for whom the books are intended, will recognize, and allow for, this fact." We're reading Dumas here, not Tuchman or Toynbee. Dumas gives us a broad history of brutality, cowardice, bravery, and above all death - on the battlefield in war, on the streets in brutal murder, on the scaffold by torture. It is a tale of events and personalities that shook Europe and exerted a powerful effect on the politics of France down to the present day. Enjoy!

To paraphrase the note from the translator, The Celebrated Crimes of Alexandre Dumas père was not written for children. The novelist has spared no language—has minced no words—to describe violent scenes of violent times. In particular, the torture of Beatrice Cenci at the hands of the authorities of Rome is given in brutal and clinical detail, sparing nothing. In this, the second of the series, Dumas tells the frankly horrifying story of the tragic sons and daughers of Francesco Cenci. More beast than man in Dumas' portrait, Francesco hated them all with extraordinary cruelty and exploited them all diabolically; in particular, he sexually exploited his two daughters, especially Beatrice, both at the same time and often in the same bed as his wife Lucrezia (no relation to the famouse Borgia princess of the same name.) When, finally, his family turned on him and had him murdered, it looked for a while as though they might get away with it, but their fortunes were not that fortunate. The authorities, from Pope Clement VI on down, took bloody and terrible vengeance upon them. In what is arguably the first battered-woman defence, the crimes of the father meant nothing; the crimes of the women, everything. Never one to allow a mere fact to stand in the way of a good story, Dumas seems to restrain himself more than usual here, though he does occasionally portray a scene from the point of view of the proverbial fly on the wall. Again, as the translator notes, "The careful, mature reader, for whom the books are intended, will recognize, and allow for, this fact." We're reading Dumas here, not Tuchman or Toynbee. Enjoy!