The Count of Monte Cristo is one of my favorite books of all times. It has an unfair reputation of being a book of youth, or not literary enough because the author wrote for money… just like Shakespeare did.

But… how to read it? Modern reviews praise endlessly the translation by Robin Buss, which is complete. Great many kudos to Buss for that. However, I would not call it definitive, impeccable or the best. Such translation is yet to arrive.

Audible has several versions; in my opinion, the one narrated by John Lee (Blackstone Publishing) is the best by leaps and bounds; this version seems to use Routledge & Son 1888.

There are notorious differences between the Buss’ and others. To exemplify this, I opened Buss’ copy randomly. What follows is an example of a few lines of comparison against the 1888 edition. It is true for the entire book.

Original, 1846. — XLVIII. Idéologie: «… Le marché fut fait; j’y perdrai peut-être mon âme mais n’importe, reprit Monte-Cristo, et le marché serait à refaire que je le ferais encore.»

Penguin Classics, Translated by Robin Buss — XLVIII. IDEOLOGY: «… ‘The deal was concluded. I shall perhaps lose my soul,’ Monte Cristo continued. ‘But what matter? If the deal had to be struck over again, I should do it.»

George Routledge & Sons, London, 1888 — Chapter 48. Ideology: «… The bargain was concluded. I may sacrifice my soul, but what matters it?” added Monte Cristo. “If the thing were to do again, I would again do it.”

My translation (see word-by-word and context explanation below) — 48. Ideology: «… ‘The deal was made. I may perhaps lose my soul there, but it does not matter,’ continued Monte Cristo. ‘If the deal had to be done again, I would again do it.’» Note the change in order in the last ‘again’ (literally, “I would do it again”), which I introduced to prevent alliteration. My Spanish version: “‘El trato fue hecho; puede ser que allí perdiera mi alma pero no importa,’ continuó Monte Cristo, ‘y si el trato se repitiera, yo lo haría de nuevo’» I add the Spanish version because it has nearly perfect symmetry with the French version.

My conclusion: Buss’ is a complete translation; however, the translation misses countless opportunities of poetic value which are revealed when reading aloud in French or comparing to other Romance languages. The 1888 Routledge & Son edition is incomplete (not by much), and although it has constructions we find anachronistic today, it keeps the poetic tone I imagine Dumas intended. My translation of this sentence, I believe, is the most faithful to the original.

Now, more precisely:

Let’s start with the first sentence:

– The sentence “Le marché fut fait” translates to “The deal was made” in English. It is written in literary French, using the passé simple passive voice.

– Le: This is the definite article “the.” It introduces the noun marché and specifies that it is not any deal, but a particular one.

– marché: This is a masculine noun meaning “market” in most everyday contexts, but in idiomatic usage it means “deal” or “agreement.” In this sentence, it refers to a transaction or contract rather than a physical market.

– fut: This is the third-person singular form of the verb être (“to be”) in the passé simple tense, which is used in formal or literary registers to narrate completed actions in the past. Fut means “was.”

– fait: This is the past participle of faire (“to do, to make”). In the passive construction fut fait, it means “was made.”

So word by word:

– Le = “The”

– marché = “deal”

– fut = “was”

– fait = “made”

Together: “The deal was made.”

Second sentence:

– The subject “j’” establishes the speaker as the one acting. The pronoun “y” signals a place, situation, or involvement, meaning “there” or “in it.” The verb “perdrai” is the first-person singular future tense of perdre, giving “I will lose.” The adverb “peut-être” inserts uncertainty, so together we have “I may perhaps lose there.” The object “mon âme” identifies what is at stake, “my soul.” At this point, the statement is “I may perhaps lose my soul there.”

– The conjunction “mais” introduces contrast. What follows is “n’importe.” This word comes from the old impersonal phrase il n’importe pas, literally “it is not of importance.” By shortening and omitting the subject pronoun, the phrase reduces to “n’importe,” which carries the same force: “it does not matter.” In Spanish “No importa.” I believe this is the sense Dumnas intended. In this context, the speaker dismisses the seriousness of losing the soul.

– Thus, the whole sentence reads as: “I may perhaps lose my soul there, but it does not matter.”