Read this as sort of an introduction to Alexandre Dumas, hoping to continue onto The Count of Monte Cristo, a much larger work and the name of my favorite sandwich. However, I was largely put off by Dumas writing style and the book only started getting interesting in the last few pages.
On the contrary, hearing about Corsica, feuding, and dueling was fun. ( )

Du très classique que ce court roman de Dumas qui n’est pas parmi ses plus connus. Une belle évocation des paysages corses, dans une narration où Alexandre Dumas se met lui-même en scène, un procédé que je n’ai pas vu avant cela dans ses romans. Belle évocation, mais beaucoup de clichés sur les corses farouches aussi, et cela fait sourire de voir qu’à bientôt deux-cents ans de distance, les poncifs sont toujours les mêmes.
Pour en venir à l’histoire, une touche de fantastique, une bonne dose d’honneur, voilà un mélange très classique pour les romans de l’époque, et ce texte n’apporte donc rien de novateur. A réserver me semble-t-il aux inconditionnels de Dumas, dont je ne fais pas partie, et je n’ai donc apprécié cette œuvre que très superficiellement.

With all the buzz floating around about the new Three Musketeers movie, I started craving a little Dumas fix. That happens every now and again and when it does, I turn to my little copy of The Corsican Brothers. The Brothers was actually my first introduction to Dumas. I was young, probably a pre-teen, when I saw a Hallmark Hall of Fame version. Of course, the filmmakers took a little artistic license (not nearly as much as Cheech and Chong, of course) but I was immediately smitten with the tale.

Told from Dumas' point of view, the short travelogue begins as he's on horseback in Corsica and asks to be put up for the evening in the de Franchi household. He soon meets Lucien de Franchi, who regales him with the story of the ten-years vendetta between the Orlandi and the Colona families. Nine people have lost their lives due to the fighting, all over a 'ten-sous' hen that wandered into the wrong yard. Lucien invites Dumas to be a witness to the arbitration the next day at the village church. Dumas also learns that Lucien has a twin brother, Louis, who studies law in Paris. After Dumas returns home, he hand-delivers a letter to Louis. The two men attend a ball and a late dinner, at which Louis finds himself forced to defend the honor of a married woman. The next day Louis fights a duel at which Dumas is his second. Mortally wounded, Louis begs Dumas not to let his family find out the manner of his death for he fears it will offend their honor. Dumas sends off a letter to Corsica but is surprised to find Lucien at his door. Even more shocking, he knows his brother has died from violent means. For though the doctor attending their birth had severed the skin that connected them, the brothers retained a psychic bond. Louis was right, Lucien's deep sense of honor has been bruised and he has brought the fearsome Corsican vengeance to Paris.

The Corsican Brothers is so short that it doesn't have time for all the political layering and gilding that are in Dumas' more famous works, yet it still retains his flavor. It's like an infant cousin to The Count of Monte Cristo. I love the dialogue - the man certainly knew how to write some zingers. Ah Dumas, c'est bon! ( )