The Scarlet Pimpernel

Marguerite St. Just was a beautiful, anti-Monarchist, French actress who fell in love with and married Sir Percy Blakeney, a handsome, rich, stupid, English aristocrat. Her brother, Armand, fell in love with a French Marquis’ daughter and was beaten almost to death for daring to love above his class. In revenge, Marguerite exposed the Marquis’ plot with Austria to overthrow the French government, resulting in the execution of the Marquis and his family. Now, Marguerite feels terrible guilt and is lightly resented by her husband and her wealthy peers over it. (But she mostly doesn't care because she's busy telling anyone who will listen how stupid her husband is, and also because no one actually shuns her because that would be show more common.)

Meanwhile, a League of wealthy English aristocrats are secretly working together to rescue wealthy French aristocrats from the common people of Paris, led by a mysterious man who signs his correspondence with a red flower (scarlet pimpernel). A French envoy to England, Chauvelin, discovers that Armand is helping the Scarlet Pimpernel (why would he do that? no reason given) and blackmails Marguerite into giving him information about the Pimpernel’s identity. Marguerite discovers that her husband is the Scarlet Pimpernel and is only pretending to be stupid and so now she loves him again, but it's almost too late. She races to France to warn Percy before Chauvelin captures him, but only finds an incredibly racist stereotype of a Jewish man. After hours of hiding in the back of an inn and then in the back of a wagon waiting for her husband, Marguerite is surprised to learn that the Jewish man was the Pimpernel all along! No one recognized him because Percy is super hot and the incredibly racist Jewish stereotype was so ugly. He has already tricked Chauvelin and rescued Armand, and Marguerite was so brave to hide in the back of that wagon so he forgives her for, uh, calling out a traitor.

It's really hard to put into words how much I hated this. The entire premise of the story relies on the “truth” that aristocrats are unquestionably superior to everyone else. The one non-aristocratic character whose thoughts we are privy to, an innkeeper, sincerely believes that he is privileged to be allowed to serve the members of the League who visit his business. The evidence that the commoners of France are bad people is that a similar French innkeeper only provides room and board in exchange for money without being deferential enough to the “well-born” customers. Quelle horreur! The only interesting dynamic here is that the English hate the French so much that it's almost subversive to care about even their most privileged elite. Nothing brings sworn enemies together like class war, I guess.

The age of the book is no excuse. 1905 is fifty years after Dickens was writing about social justice and over a century is plenty of hindsight to write about the French Revolution. Even Shakespeare managed to tell stories about aristocrats while writing their servants as fleshed-out human beings with their own thoughts and opinions. The book is only a “product of its time” in that the author was desperately clinging to the empire that gave her barony its power as it was about to decline and fall.

There is no doubt that the French Revolution and the Reign of Terror far overreached its original objective and executed many clergy and commoners accused of crimes without evidence or trial. However, the Scarlet Pimpernel does not care about them. There is no discussion among the members of the League about stopping the Reign of Terror, rescuing anyone else, or even destroying a guillotine or two. He only rescues wealthy and powerful aristocrats (whom the book repeatedly calls “innocents”).

The alleged cultural value of this story is as the prototype of a swashbuckling hero with a secret identity and a love triangle where two of the sides are the same person in disguise. However, I wouldn't consider rescuing aristocrats to be particularly heroic, and the only swashbuckling actions we see the Pimpernel take are disguising himself as an old woman and a gross stereotype. The doltish Percy is admittedly a great ruse, but Marguerite never has strong feelings about the Pimpernel one way or the other until after she discovers he's really her husband. I did enjoy that the book was so close on Marguerite's point of view throughout, so we always know her thoughts and the story is revealed to the audience at the same time as her, but that becomes a detriment in the second half of the book when she spends hours hiding in small spaces so she can watch the real action happen.

There could be some purpose in teaching this book in school literature class to show how the values and beliefs of an artist are reflected in their art, but there doesn't seem to be much critical analysis to that end around the internet. The story is culturally beloved but I didn't find anything to appreciate here aside from the audiobook narrator's hilarious foppish accent. show less

Every now and again, I check for retellings of my favourite classic books, but instead of a fresh take on The Scarlet Pimpernel, I found this and my mind boggled. 'Translated in modern English'? The original novel (1905) is written in modern English! Orczy is hardly Shakespeare or Chaucer. Anyway, with the 'translation' was free on Kindle Unlimited, how could I resist the experiment?

As the old folks on Facebook say, LOL. Did somebody get paid for ruining a 120 year old classic story, or was AI involved? Random words are changed to either no purpose - 'Ugh!' for 'Bah!' - or with the effect of inadvertently changing the meaning ('the bays had transformed into the massive gates of her beautiful English home' - neat trick!) Some French show more terms are taken out, others left alone. Historical terms relative to the eighteenth century era of the story are hilariously modernised, so that 'Jellyband switched off the vintage lamp', Chauvelin's spies have 'radar', and Marguerite's 'car' is waiting outside.

But oy vey, the dialogue surely wins the 'WTF?' award here. I knew I was in trouble when Marguerite announced 'Leave the poor guy alone!' and asked 'What's got you riled up?' instead of her original cutting remark of, 'What fly stings you, pray?' Chauvelin gushes, 'Oh wow! Is it really that bad?' like a teenager, and apparently Lord Hastings visited Suzanne's 'Mom' with an update about her 'Dad'. The most heinous transgression, however, is this:

We search for him here, we search for him there,
Those French folks hunt for him everywhere.
Is he in heaven? Or is he in hell?
That damned, elusive Pimpernel!

COME ON! Even those who haven't read the novel, and can't read in general, know 'They seek him here ...' Mucking up the national anthem ("May he reign over us for a long time, God save the King!) was forgivable compared to that disaster.

If you're so ridiculously dense that a 'translation' of a twentieth century novel is required, please stay away from my favourite novels. I'm not even ranking this one in case one star drags down the original title.

A crime against fiction. show less

I first read The Scarlet PImpernel over ten years ago, after catching half of the 1982 film and being intrigued by the characters, and have revisited Blakeney Manor and Paris on a regular basis ever since then. I also own many copies of the Baroness' definitive secret hero novel, thanks to my rule of 'new copy, new read'! And who could resist the beautiful hardback editions of the Macmillan Collector's Library?

'A book will live by the characters that people its story, characters that make the story real; it will never live by the story alone, however well constructed or interesting it may be. Do not be afraid about the future of your Scarlet Pimpernel. It will live because of its character long after far finer books have gone the way of show more oblivion.'

So the novelist Arnold Bennett once told the Baroness, with withering sarcasm - and he was bang on! Any reader who doesn't know about Orczy's original novel will no doubt be able to quote at least a line of Sir Percy Blakeney's verse: 'They seek him here ...' Blakeney and his alter ego - ironic spoiler alert! - are what maketh the book, leaving finer details like plot, historical setting and possibly even Marguerite, the Pimpernel's beautiful wife, for new generations of fans to discover via stage and screen productions. Orczy claimed that the personality of the Scarlet Pimpernel came to her while waiting on the Underground for a train to Kensington - 'I saw him in his exquisite clothes, his slender hands holding up his spy-glass: I heard his lazy drawling speech, his quaint laugh' - and that she promptly went home and dashed off the novel in five weeks. Apparently a 'round dozen' of publishers rejected her inspired manuscript, until one publisher sent the book to his mother for approval ('she is quite unsophisticated but knows what she likes'), after which Greening and Co. accepted The Scarlet Pimpernel, and the rest is history. (Undaunted by the negative treatment of her novel, Orczy also rewrote the story as a play, hoping to release both versions at the same time, but Fred Terry and Julia Neilson tweaked and promoted the stage production into a success two years before Mr Greening's mother gave the printed version the go-ahead.)

For those not in the know, the precis of the Baroness' magnum opus is probably more enticing than the actual novel, although I love the book dearly. While France is 'seething' in revolution, Marguerite Blakeney, a French actress lately married to tall, handsome but intellectually challenged English fop, is approached in Dover by a former acquaintance, the ex-Ambassador Armand Chauvelin, and blackmailed into helping him discover the identity of the mysterious and - yes - elusive Scarlet Pimpernel, who has been saving aristocrats from the guillotine across the Channel. I'm not sure if anyone is really surprised by the supposed secret identity of the Pimpernel these days, but for me, the heart of the story - and the reason why I fell in love with Orczy's novels nearly ten years ago - is the captivating heroine, Marguerite St Just, and the troubled, passionate, soul-deep OTP of her love for her husband, the Scarlet Pimpernel. I'm really that much of a girl.

Marguerite, Lady Blakeney, the oft misguided, always impulsive wife of Sir Percy, tends to drive modern readers mad. The first novel claims that she is 'the cleverest woman in Europe' - which I take to mean verbally witty, not overly intelligent or even very perceptive, but hey ho - yet Marguerite seems to spend the bulk of the series getting herself into trouble and waiting for her husband to rescue her. She is kidnapped or blackmailed in at least four novels, and probably only escapes in the others because she is reduced to walk-on roles. The Lady Blakeney version of being an 'active' heroine is to repeatedly take off across the Channel after her husband, whether he wants her with him or not. And not only is she forever falling into Chauvelin's cunning traps, but the trap is rarely more than a variation on a theme - she never learns!

But the same man passionately in love with such a woman as Marguerite Blakeney would count the world well lost for her sake.

In an age of retroactive gender equality in historical novels, Marguerite is surely an anachronism. But her charm for me is exactly that - she's a woman, she's weak, but she is also believable - the modern reader might want the heroine to get herself out of trouble every once in a while, but Marguerite can only do the best she can with what she has. Her wealth, status and reputation belong to Sir Percy - she gave up her own independence when she married and left Paris for England. So if enforced domesticity, beauty over brawn, and the occasional swoon work better for this heroine than shooting her way out of a tight corner, then who are her twenty-first century readers to argue? I love Marguerite for being a complete Mary Sue - beautiful, alluring, a man's woman who knows how to get what she wants, and an adored French actress to boot - but brave enough to risk all for those she loves. Granted, she is at her sharp-tongued, vivacious best in The Scarlet Pimpernel, taunting the haughty old Comtesse and flirting with her husband's friends and the Prince of Wales, but she remains a class act throughout the series.

Sir Percy has been captured in the lazy humour of Leslie Howard, the underlying intensity of Anthony Andrews, and the - (ahem) stature - of Douglas Sills. He is, to borrow a phrase, a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma - raised on the lonely childhood of all romance heroes, brought up by an 'imbecile mother and a distracted father', only to inherit a fortune and marry the most revered actress in Paris after a whirlwind courtship. Sir Percy is handsome, well dressed, stinking rich and popular. The Scarlet Pimpernel is a brave and noble hero, who is constantly placing the lives of others before his own. What's not to love? Admittedly, Blakeney can become a little tiring, because he must always be right to the point of omniscience, but he is so demmed loveable with his 'six foot odd of gorgeousness' and supernatural good fortune. He and Marguerite are (literally) made for each other - consummate performers, they are both attractive, passionate and secretive.

If there is anyone who hasn't read The Scarlet Pimpernel, I can only recommend that they do so immediately! show less

This was my classics book club's first pick for the new year, and I confess that I did not finish it nor did I feel like finishing it was necessary. The prose is very, very repetitive just to make sure that the reader doesn't get confused on what is really a quite simplistic plot. With all that padding--and so much of it is so purple, my eyes couldn't roll any harder--the book seems more meaty than it actually is. There really is no there there. And can I say that it feels extremely odd to read something in this particular time that glorifies a rich, well-born, privileged hero rescuing other rich, well-born, privileged people from the consequences of their actions? So this possibly is the first appearance of the trope of the superhero show more with a secret identity in popular culture, but certainly, I don't need to read all that overstuffed prose to figure that out. show less

Gosh, I love this book. And have for many years. I remember being so happy to discover that there are continuing adventures of Sir Percy and Marguerite, including a modern re-imaging of the story, with Chauvelin as a war hero because in war killing people is a good thing. (This book is called Pimpernel and Rosemary and I may not be remembering it accurately.) But I digress. Sir Percy Blakeney / The Scarlet Pimpernel is an early example of a superhero who risks his life to save the lives of strangers from an oppressive, outlaw regime. First published in 1905, the book predated The Mark of Zorro (1919).( See also many DC and Marvel characters: Superman, Batman, Spiderman all have secret identities.) I also love the 1934 movie version with show more Leslie Howard, Merle Oberon, and Raymond Massey.

Sir Percy and his band of merry men may act as if they belong to P.G. Wodehouse's Drones Club, but they also assume a variety of disguises as they use the plans devised by their fearless leader to sneak into France to save people from Madame Guillotine. Sir Percy is married to the beautiful and talented actress, Marguerite St. Just, now Lady Blakeney. Their relationship, once so loving and passionate has changed. Sir Percy is cold and distant and Marguerite doesn't understand why everything has changed. If only he had told her about the rumors he'd heard! Meanwhile, as another reviewer mentioned, Marguerite has a crush on the Scarlet Pimpernel, little knowing ... and Sir Percy literally kisses the ground Marguerite walks on (but only after she is out of sight). Mixed together with this love story are the adventures and twists and disguises. At one point, Sir Percy disguises himself as an old Jew, because he knows that everyone will go out of their way to avoid him. show less

Spoilers because I talk about the identity of the Scarlet Pimpernel and a casting choice that I would have made in the 1970s.

They seek him here, they seek him there… a man known as the Scarlet Pimpernel is driving the French government to distraction in the year of grace 1792, as he saves aristocrats from the clutches of Madame la Guillotine. The English think this is great sport, while the French government, in the form of agent Chauvelin, is bent on unmasking and dispatching him as quickly as possible.

This was a re-read for me, and I’m not sure how well it holds up as a re-read, because I spent the whole time thinking “Oh COME ON when are we getting to the bit where we find out who it is?” I felt like on re-reading that the show more clues were so obvious, but perhaps to a first-time reader they are not. I’d forgotten how much of a role Marguerite has, which was good, and I laughed out loud a bunch of times, particularly when Chauvelin was shown up (the bit where the Scarlet Pimpernel sees right through his priest disguise and Chauvelin chokes on his soup in horror made me guffaw).

It occurs to me that Tom Baker would have made a fantastic Percy Blakeney / Scarlet Pimpernel: in fact, his Doctor Who is a bit of this sort of character, because he’s constantly playing the fool but always has a plan and saves the day with a flourish. Plus, he has the height and the grin and the lovely voice that I think would be essential for a Blakeney. show less

I can appreciate that this was written in a time when it would have been called an excellent story. And I'm willing to accept that my opinion of it is very much placing my worldview upon the past, particularly in regards to how the main character, a woman, is depicted. Marguerite sways dramatically between truth and wrong, love and hate, loyalty and deception. And all her decisions are framed almost exclusively around male characters. I can normally chalk things like that up to time and call it three stars at least. But Scarlet Pimpernel, unlike Tale of Two Cities or other stories written long ago, has a fundamental problem beyond being cemented in its own time.

Without reason beyond "nature's demand" it asks us to pity, defend and show more ignore the sins (ignorant or otherwise) of a ruling aristocracy that drove themselves and the lower-class to destruction. I am by no means passing judgment on the instigators or victims of the French Revolution. There is far more nuance here than a book review of this brevity can tackle. And certainly Scarlet Pimpernel has never been seen as a great commentary on class warfare. But I am saying that Scarlet Pimpernel flat out refuses to acknowledge that nuance. Its silence and ignorance unfortunately prop up the aristocracy and put down the common man or woman for no reason other than entertainment. A clump of pepper in someone's pinch is hilarious, sure, but is the abusive description of a poor Jew supposed to be funny? Moreover, that miss puts a hole right at the center of the story: the motivations of the strange hero and his nemesis are entirely unknown, even at the end. Percy comes off as a pure sportsman rather than a hero, because he can't ever bring himself to say whether he knows if those he rescues are deserving. Chauvelin on the other hand can only be simple bumbling thwarted menace.

Overwrought prose, repetitive description, unfortunate ethnic asides, and lazy female characterization may have been par for the course when Scarlet Pimpernel was written. And they certainly still exist today. But this story bombed for me because it missed giving its characters coherent motivation. It failed to address a major issue at its heart, Percy and Chauvelin's relationship with the victims of the Revolution (however you define that). show less