Saturday, August 4, 2012

Chapter 27: The Wife of Athos


Summary
     Shocking chapter! It starts off as amusingly as the previous two chapters, and indeed may be the funniest of the trio, except for the ending. It takes a horribly morbid twist and I can never look at Athos the same again. In the beginning, we are still with Aramis, if you remember. D’Artagnan and Aramis are having a grand old time feasting, now that Aramis has decided to wholeheartedly be a Musketeer, and let out his religious side through poetry. D’Artagnan, in an unexpectedly kind move, cheers up the despondent Bazin. Soon, everyone is content enough. In his religious fervor, Aramis tried punishing himself with a leather chord, and now regrets it (okay Dumas, we get it! It’s clear you want to portray religion negatively). As a consequence, he cannot accompany d’Artagnan to find Athos because his wounds hurt him. So, d’Artagnan leaves another of the horses with Aramis while he recovers. D’Artagnan and Planchet head off to Amiens.

     As d’Artagnan rides to Amiens, he thinks about how awesome Athos is. Dumas praises Athos to the high heavens here – his looks, his nobility, his cleverness, his skill, everything. Of course, this only makes the end all the more horrifying. D’Artagnan soon reaches the hotel in Amiens at which Athos was kidnapped. D’Artagnan threatens the innkeeper and demands to know what happened to Athos. The innkeeper says he is innocent, and explains why he arrested Athos. By his story, it is soon evident that the cardinal’s men tricked the innkeeper into thinking Athos was an infamous forger and ought to be captured. D’Artagnan repeatedly and impatiently cuts into the man’s long-winded story, asking what happened to Athos. The innkeeper finally explains that Athos escaped from his pursuers by shutting himself in the cellar. In fact, he is still there, and refuses to emerge! D’Artagnan indignantly yells at the innkeeper for not letting him out. The poor man explains yet again that he would love if Athos emerged; he just refuses to do so. In fact, the innkeeper begs d’Artagnan to get Athos to leave, telling d’Artagnan that he would literally worship him if he persuaded Athos to exit the cellar. All the inn’s food, wine, and oils are in the cellar, and Athos refuses to let anyone enter, so the inn is losing customers because it fails to provide food or drinks. Soon after he shut himself in the cellar, Athos summoned the wounded Grimaud (remember he was beaten with a pitchfork? Ouch!), who is now there with him. Athos also is most likely drunk as a skunk, since he is acting hilariously childish, and there is lots of wine in the cellar. D’Artagnan, quite understandably, laughs his head off when he realizes that basically Athos is having fun drinking all the wine and eating ham and being difficult.

     In fact, the innkeeper is freaking out at that very moment because two Englishmen just asked for wine, and Athos refuses to let the innkeeper’s wife inside the cellar to fetch some. D’Artagnan decides to intervene, since the Englishmen are angry when they hear why they cannot have wine and want to break into the cellar. Upon hearing d’Artagnan’s voice, Athos gets even more excited, and calls the Englishmen “devourers of little children” for some reason. Athos willingly opens the door when d’Artagnan asks him to. Oh dear. The cellar is a total ruin! Bottles and barrels of wine are smashed (from Athos’s initial flight into the cellar, so not entirely his fault), and most of the wine is now gone. Worse, a drunken Grimaud forgot to close the wine barrel, so it is flooding the cellar. The innkeeper almost has a stroke at the sight of the ruined cellar. D’Artagnan and Athos embrace. The two friends get a room together and begin to settle down to rest, when the distraught innkeeper rushes into the room. He yells at Athos about all the wine, meat, and oil that are gone. Athos dismissively explains that they were hungry, and he needed oil to treat Grimaud’s wounds. Athos makes up a dashing new insult by calling the innkeeper a “triple-ass” and then sinks into a chair, exhausted by his tirade. D’Artagnan scolds the innkeeper for his (frankly justified) rage, and the poor man bursts into tears. Athos drunkenly tells him not to cry, or his heart will break. He invites the innkeeper to come closer. The innkeeper hesitates. Athos slurs for him to approach, all the more insistently. The innkeeper obeys reluctantly, and d’Artagnan proposes that the man sell Athos’s old horse. This deal suits everyone, because d’Artagnan has one of the duke’s horses for Athos, and selling the old one will cover the damages to the cellar.

     Then, the awful part begins. Lugubrious and inebriated, Athos is in prime confessing-mode. And what he confesses is truly horrifying. D’Artagnan foolishly brings up the subject of love, and Athos rages against love. D’Artagnan inquires why, and Athos finally spills the beans. Incidentally, he tells most of his tragic love tale as if it happened to his ‘friend,’ but he drunkenly slips up at the end, and reveals that it is himself. So, I shall relate it as it truly is – with Athos as the protagonist. Athos was a nobleman in a province, of a very high rank. He fell in love with a poetic and lovely young lady, who had recently arrived along with her curate brother. Athos married her, and they were fairly happy. One day, however, he discovered the brand of the fleur-de-lis on her shoulder. That brand was put on criminals! So – oh horror! – he took his wife to a tree, tied her hands behind her back, and HUNG her. He MURDERED her! Good heavens! He would have hung her ‘brother’ (or whoever he really was) too, but he had fled. D’Artagnan, to his credit, is as aghast as I am, and does not know what to say. The newly terrifying Athos is busy eating ham, and offers some to a shell-shocked d’Artagnan. D’Artagnan is at a loss – his hero is actually a murderer? He pretends to be asleep. Athos waxes poetic about the inability of young people to hold their liquor, and drinks some more. 

Reaction
     Athos is a murderer. Drunken murderer on the loose! Run, d’Artagnan, run! This chapter was so funny when Athos was being a harmless drunk who took over the cellar and ate ham. But the end just killed me – and not in a funny way. I can never see Athos the same way. His casualness and apparent lack of remorse was absolutely terrifying. GAH. WHY, DUMAS?!? This chapter makes me feel so torn. On one hand, Athos murdered his wife. On the other hand, he is the funniest drunk ever.

     The best line was, of course, from before Athos’s confession. I would just quote the whole chapter until the confession if I could – it’s priceless. But I must chose! This part is from right after the cellar is opened:  “…they found… puddles of oil and wine…a heap of broken bottles filled the whole left-hand corner of the cellar… ‘The image of devastation and death,’ as the ancient poet says, ‘reigned as over a field of battle.’ Of fifty large sausages, suspended from the joists, scarcely ten remained. Then the lamentations of the host and hostess pierced the vault of the cellar. D'Artagnan himself was moved by them. Athos did not even turn his head. To grief succeeded rage. The host armed himself with a spit, and rushed into the chamber occupied by the two friends. ‘Some wine!’ said Athos, on perceiving the host.”

1 comment:

glutenfreecupcakes said...

I don't even know what to think. I'm struggling to see the point of making Athos a murderer. Is this a tale of reformation? Of false first impressions? Of moral decay even in the best of heroes? Or did Dumas just want to make Athos a more complex character? I hope Athos's confession becomes important to the plot or to character development or something!! Dumas has such great wit and lovely writing and creative characters, but then he does things like this and I question if he knows what he's doing again. *sigh* Dumas, my dear, reading your book (even if I'm just reading the summaries!) is like being on a roller coaster.

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