To Revenge or Not To Revenge? The Count of Monte Cristo and Shakespeare’s The Tempest

Recently I had an literary epiphany. Two stories I’d known for decades finally collided with each other in my mind and fused into a new idea: I saw two ways to approach revenge when I contrasted Edmond Dantes with Shakespeare’s Prospero.

The Comparison Catalyst

I’d seen Shakespeare’s The Tempest performed at a theater when I was in high school, but I recently read it again. I was surprised how much of the plot I’d forgotten, not to mention the characters and themes. I’d also read The Count of Monte Cristo in college and forgotten most of it, so I listened to the unabridged audiobook last summer. I couldn’t believe how long it was, but the intricate plot made it worthwhile. Still, I didn’t notice any similarities between the stories.

Then a few months ago, I watched the 2024 BBC adaptation of The Count of Monte Cristo. It wasn’t terrible, but they butchered a 52-hour story down to three hours, thereby reinforcing my life motto: The Book Was Better. Reading The Tempest right after that was the literary catalyst that synthesized my comparison of Edmond Dantes and Prospero. The ideas just clicked. Prospero’s mercy contrasts sharply with Edmond Dantes’ stubborn determination to complete the destruction he started. Both men set out to get revenge, thinking it will bring peace to their bitter hearts. But in the end, only one man is truly at peace.

The Count of Monte Cristo and The Tempest Recaps

If you’re a bit rusty on the plots, here’s my quick review of the stories. In The Count of Monte Cristo, Edmond Dantes is lied about and betrayed by three men. Consequently, Dantes is thrown into a horrible prison for 14 years, and by the time he escapes, his fiancé has married one of his betrayers, and the other two men are rich and successful. However, during his time in prison, Dantes had learned about a vast treasure which gives him unlimited power to recreate himself in French society. He uses his new position to bring humiliation and destruction to his betrayers and their families.

Meanwhile, in The Tempest, Duke Prospero is betrayed by his usurping brother, Antonio, and others. Prospero escapes with his life and his young daughter, but they become stranded on an island for 12 years. While stranded, Prospero teaches himself magic from a book until he finally has a chance at revenge. He summons a storm that sinks a passing ship containing the guilty men, who swim to his island for refuge. After putting them through stressful and difficult situations to test their hearts, Prospero reveals himself as the deposed Duke. They beg his forgiveness, which he grants before throwing his book of magic into the sea and returning home with his daughter at last.

So Many Similarities

There are so many similarities that I wonder if Dumas had The Tempest in mind when he wrote The Count. (Or maybe both were thinking of the Old Testament story of Joseph.) Prospero and Dantes were both betrayed by jealous men who profited from their disappearance. Both become powerful in spite of banishment—one by magic and one by money—and transform themselves so much that their own friends don’t recognize them when they return. Both are intent on revenge to punish the men who robbed them of years of their lives. Both finally get the perfect opportunity to put their vengeful plans into action. But that’s where their paths diverge.

Critical Contrasts

Dantes wants revenge because three men had robbed him of his marriage to Mercedes. But after Dantes’ vengeance causes Mercedes’ husband to kill himself, Dantes still doesn’t marry her. His heart is too cold, and his love for her is overpowered by his hatred of his enemies. He doesn’t stop his master plan until every man and his family have been utterly destroyed—an action that has ripple effects and costs the lives of a series of innocent characters.

Prospero, too, achieves the chance to restore his dukedom by destroying the men who had betrayed him. He settles instead for teaching them a lesson and then forgiving them. He even contrives a meeting between his beloved daughter and the son of his enemy, the king, knowing that they will fall in love. Prospero tests their love and then blesses their union. His dukedom is restored without the guilt of all-consuming vengeance.

Degrees of Hope

In the end, both men long for death but choose to continue living in hope. Dantes had planned to kill himself after reuniting two young lovers whose lives he saved. He knows that one good action was hardly enough to “tip the scales” of the evil his revenge has caused, and he believes he has nothing else to live for. The only thing that stops his suicide is learning that he’s loved by a young woman he had rescued earlier. With more doubt than certainty, Dantes chooses to sail off with her in hopes that her love will redeem him from the guilt of his revenge.

Prospero, however, is sure of his joy. He is heading home, his daughter is deeply in love, and his dukedom is restored. Even so, before he leaves the island to resume his old life, he says that every third thought will be of his grave. Why? Not because he regrets the extent of his revenge, like Dantes. Instead, I think he’s just tired. Done with magic, he throws his book of spells into the sea. He’s lived to see his fortunes restored and his daughter happily married. What more could he wish for? Prospero is content.

They say there are only a handful of plots in the world. Isn’t it fun to see how different authors spin them into stories that are so similar and yet profoundly different? I’ll be on the lookout for more “mashups” in my reading, and I hope you will too.