|Alexander Dumas (père);|
Alexandre Dumas (père): Not because his life was an easy one (it wasn't and he was his own worst enemy). Not because he had a bad habit of spending far more than he earned, which caused him to be a debtor on the run and die in poverty, utterly dependent on his son. Not
Yes, he was a philanderer and a hedonist. Yes, he was the epitome of a bon vivant. Yes, his favorite topic was himself. Yes, he was a rabble rouser. Yes, he often bit the hand that helped him. Yes, he exuded that intangible, inexplicable yet joyous je ne sais quoi that drew men and women of all classes and causes to him. Yes, his greatest successes could be construed as cautionary tales.
Had I been his minder, his keeper, or his steward, I probably would have...killed him.
So why, oh why, would I want to be Alexandre Dumas?
By all accounts, he approached his days with great zeal. His determined enthusiasm and commitment to experiencing every high, low, and bump in the road showed in his prolific works. His writing never kept him from experiencing a life as great--if not greater than--any of his characters.
I envy his ardor, his fervor, and his fearlessness.
If I could become one of the Greats of Authors Past, I would be the man who gave birth to the tragic heroes of D'Artagnan, Dantes; I would be one part Sicilian Bandit and one part Prussian Terror. I would be Alexandre Dumas (père).