Chapter 32: A Procurator’s Dinner

Summary

     Oh lord. Ugh, just the title made me dread this chapter. But it had funny servants! And I do love funny servants. Also, Dumas is really good at making bad food sound amusing, so there’s a bit of that in here. Well! The chapter starts off with a hopeful and greedy Porthos happily primping for his family dinner with the Coquenards. To be honest, I have no idea how anyone could look forward to having a meal with his/her secret lover and the person who is being cheated on. Can you say awkward?!? Porthos is apparently immune to the awkwardness, and he sets off in good spirits for the dinner. However, when he arrives, he gets his first clues that something is not quite right. The corridor is dark and dingy. When he reaches the door, he is greeted with an oddly solemn and hilarious trio of clerks. One is very short, one is of a medium height, and the other is tall, and they stand in ascending order. A very young servant also comes up to join the panel as they all survey Porthos. Porthos hardly knows what to say to these ‘three and a half’ servants. Luckily for him, Madame Coquenard arrives shortly and makes Porthos feel a bit more at ease by welcoming her ‘dear cousin’ Porthos warmly. They enter the dining room and meet M. Coquenard. He is a sharp-looking old man who has unfortunately very weak legs and is very sickly. He is rude to Porthos, likely knowing exactly what is going on and seeing through the ‘cousin’ charade.

     Dinner is soon served. To Porthos’s slight discomfort and disgust, the three servants are starving, and look pitifully at all the food served. First comes the soup. To Porthos’s disappointment, it is plain broth with bread crusts. It is not very enjoyable, but the servants eat the leftover bread as if they hadn’t eaten for weeks. Then, a nasty, tough, stringy old chicken is served. Again, the servant’s eyeballs practically drop out of their heads and they begin drooling. Then, bony mutton is served. Porthos manfully attempts to eat it, but cannot understand why everyone else acts as if it is delicious. Madame Coquenard kindly warns Porthos away from the beans, so he is left to drink diluted wine and wish sadly for bread, cheese and good wine. After dinner, Madame Coquenard agrees to get Porthos a horse, an extra horse for Mousqueton, and a fair amount of cash. Then, Porthos grumpily leaves. How romantic.

Reaction

     The Madame Coquenard plotline needs to go. Every chapter, she makes me cringe. She really needs some self-respect. Maybe some loyalty too – her husband seemed pretty nice! He genuinely complimented her food, and was kind to her. The servants were pretty great, I’ll admit, standing in ascending order of height and being all hungry. All the servants in the novel are probably the best characters. I wouldn’t mind reading a chapter about them instead! And that chapter better start off with all of them sitting down to a good, hearty meal together.

     My favorite line was about the awful food: “The poor fowl was thin, and covered with one of those thick, bristly skins through which the teeth cannot penetrate with all their efforts. The fowl must have been sought for a long time on the perch, to which it had retired to die of old age. ‘The devil!’ thought Porthos, ‘this is poor work. I respect old age, but I don't much like it boiled or roasted.’” I would hope you don’t, Porthos! Because that is called cannibalism, my dear children, and is in fact frowned upon in most societies. (Oh man, another reference?)