There are few things that activate my gag reflex like Baroness Orczy. The Scarlet Pimpernel has been called "a stirring tale of romance and adventure set in the French Revolution." Historical accuracy in this work was that there was indeed a Revolution in France in the late 18th century and that England is, in deed, separated from France by the English Channel. Obviously not content to incorporate reality into her story, the Baronness totally fabricated the brutal bloodthirsty Reign of Terror of 1792. So unfortunate for her that it began in September of 1793. Furthermore, she ignores the fact that the historical Chauvelin was a *marquis* and that by the time the Reign of Terror started England and France has ceased to be on diplomatic relations (hence, the fact that they were at war...). In this book, the entire French Republic is assumed to have the collective IQ of a giant turnip, a stereotype of the French people which may explain why Marguerite, supposedly the "cleverest woman in Europe", takes half of the novel to discover that her husband is, indeed the elusive Pimpernel himself....despite the fact that Sir Percy wears a pimpernel ring, and that pimpernels are the family flower. Perhaps Marguerite is bright in other ways. Furthermore, I find the Baronness' fulsome, if not particularly well-written, nostalgia for the Ancien Regime absolutely sickening. You notice how Sir Percy never dirties his hands rescuing commoners who are wrongly accused...oh no, certainly not. But I am not a pedant normally when it comes to books, as long as they have literary merit or an interesting plot. So sad for the Pimpernel that it really lacks both. If one cannot guess by the 5th page that a) Percy is the Pimpernel and b) he will rescue whatever aristo he's after and be quite fine by the end of the novel then perhaps one should consider repeating the 6th grade. In place of in-depth characters, Baronness Orczy's relies on absolutely nauseating stereotypes; Chauvelin "evil, fanatical, and, lest we forget, fox-like and shrewd revolutionary", Sir Percy the unsinkable Englishman, and, of course, there is Orczy's revolting anti-Semitism in dealing with Percy's disguise as a "loathesome" Jew. I am at a loss to explain for the popularity of this novel. It is just a Hungarian aristocrat reveanging herself on the world for chasing her family out of their 36-bedroom-chateau when she was a child. As the venerable Hilary Mantel (if you want to read real French Revolution stuff, try A Place of Greater Safety) said so well, "The plot of the Scarlet Pimpernel is weak; it depends on people who are said to be clever and quick-witted doing stupid things very slowly, and dropping messages, saying 'I will be in the supper room at one o'clock precisely.'"

Sink me if the lady isn't right.

You go Sharon Eisenberg! Reading some of these comments on one the most profound reflections on the American psyche, I came close to weeping tears of frustration and anger for what seems to be yet further evidence of the "dumbing of America." Perhaps high school is too young to grasp the full content of this book; a book that should be about more than just "finding" the literary characteristics of Romanticism, a book that should become part of one's everyday life as all pieces of great literature should. The Scarlet Letter is a beautiful and wonderfully moving piece of work that skillfully analyzes sin, guilt, and redemption in four characters. How some of the reviewers can say such negative things about the character development is beyond me--I know that I quite personally sympathize with Dimmesdale. This is not some big action flick or some trashy teen romance novel...this is a work of bona fide genius...which is I suppose why some people can't handle it. All in all, The Scarlet Letter is a must-read for anyone who wishes to better understand the human psyche....and who has the ability to understand and reflect on what they read.

I was shocked to see that the average of the book reviews for this work was only a 4 stars. This is among the finest books I have ever read--somewhat comparative to Steinbeck's The Pearl and Hemingway's Old Man and the Sea in its brevity, lyricism, seeming simplicity and actual depth of both feeling and philosophy. The rhythmic beauty of Wilder's poetic prose would quite literally take my breath away at points and the story, with its intense sympathy for all mortal strivings and failings, touched me so deeply that I cry and laugh even in remembrance of many of the parts. I don't think there was a character in the book whom I didn't feel deeply empathetic with. The extended metaphor of the bridge which links fate and accident, love and loneliness, life and death was so flawlessly, yet subtly, present throughout that I am continually held in awe at the author's genius. More than anything though, the theme of the transcendence of the loneliness of mortality through love continues to affect my personal life every day.

The French Revolution is an obsession of mine, and I've probably read every fictional account of it still in print (and many that are not :)) I can say that beyond a doubt A Place of Greater Safety is the best novel on the subject and, along with Gore Vidal's Burr, probably one of the best historical novels I've read period. The history is accurate (which is an event in and of itself) and the characterization is absolutely brilliant. Mantel gets so close to her characters that she sympathizes with almost every one of them, although Camille will get your heart. The way she can take historical events and imbue them with humor, drama, tragedy, and an intense sympathy with all human striving is absolutely amazing. It's a long read but worth every second of it. I've recommended this book to almost everyone I know, but they often don't get to read it because I can't stay without it for more than a week or two.