“Give your entire attention to what God is doing right now, and don’t get worked up about what may or may not happen tomorrow. God will help you deal with whatever hard things come up when the time comes.”
One thing I haven’t mentioned about reading The Count of Monte Cristo: The language. After reading it, I kept finding my language use tending toward the archaic and elaborate. This happened mewhen I read Tale of Two Cities, too, but to a lesser extent due to that book’s length. I spent a couple days with Tale of Two Cities; I spent a couple weeks with The Count of Monte Cristo. Language use I keep finding myself tending towards:
- Lots of semicolons used in bizarre ways. Here’s a fabricated example of what semicolon use as you might see it. “‘I have so long desired to make your acquaintance;’ she said, inclining her head toward him; her lustrous eyes veiled and downcast, unable to meet his penetrating gaze.”
- Very long, elaborate sentence construction. Real example from page 193 of the book: “Had a thunderbolt fallen at the feet of Dantès, or hell opened its yawning gulf before him, he could not have been more completely transfixed with horror than at the sound of words so wholly unexpected, revealing as they did the fiendish perfidy which had consigned him to wear out his days in the dark cell of a prison, that was to him as a living grave.” Or take this example, from page 848: “I am fond of these jars, upon which, perhaps, misshapen, frightful monsters have fixed their cold, dull eyes, and in which myriads of small fish have slept, seeking a refuge from the pursuit of their enemies.”
- Use of vocabulary words and phrases. The previous quote included a couple in a row: fiendish perfidy. Then there’s “calumny,” or derivatives like “caluminator,” which appeared a number of times, and innumerable uses of words like “sojourn,” “peristyle,” “extricate,” not to mention impressive phrases such as “invisible, impalpable agent of celestial rewards and punishments,” “stimulated by an invincible curiosity,” and so on.
In short (too late!), my perusal of The Count of Monte Cristo has imbued me with the unquenchable desire for prose both convoluted and lengthy, unknown and unrivaled by writers for the previous century but much-beloved by those of earlier, long-passed eras.
…which is why I’m now reading a book written in 2008, This is Not a Game, in the hopes that I’ll quickly recover my propensity for 21st Century language.
PS – Today’s looking gorgeous for a bike ride: Clear skies and dry ground, which means I can ride Lucy. On the schedule: 55 miles, 4800 feet of climbing. I’ll probably end up doing a few more miles than that but since last week kicked my butt, I’m not planning on pushing the hills.