Commentary on “The Scarlet Pimpernel” by Baroness Orczy

Yesterday I read “The Scarlet Pimpernel” cover-to-cover (there’s no class this week at HLS, so people can fly all over the country for job interviews). This is another one of those books that I’ve seen various adaptations of (specifically the Jane Seymour movie and the Broadway musical), and was interested in reading the source material. Reading it, I wished I had never heard of the movie or the musical. This story, as told in the novel, would certainly be even more enthralling to someone who doesn’t know the identity of the Scarlet Pimpernel. It’s kept a secret from the reader for two-thirds of the book (although I must admit there aren’t any legitimate red herrings, so an intelligent reader might be able to easily figure it out much sooner than that).

First a quick word about the introduction in the edition I read, written by novelist Anne Perry. For the first time in my life, the introduction acts like an introduction. Perry actually states that she would like to mention a certain plot twist, but doesn’t want to “spoil it.” Far too often (nay, nearly always), novel introductions are written as though the reader has read the book many times already. They give away plot twists, character deaths, mention specific minor events or characters as though we are thoroughly familiar with them, and basically make the reading of the book a much less pleasant experience than it would otherwise be. I have stopped reading introductions until after I’ve read the book, as a general rule. The only reason I read this introduction before reading the book is that I was already fairly familiar with the story—I figured I already knew everything that could be given away. But praise be to Anne Perry for sparing the less-informed reader!

That said, I will now write my own comments as though my reader has read the book, or at least is familiar with the story. Other people aren’t allowed to spoil the story, but I am. Ha!

The characters of “The Scarlet Pimpernel” aren’t exceedingly round, but I’m interested in some of their dynamics anyway. What really went wrong with the marriage of Percy and Marguerite? Why do they treat each other the way they do? Percy eventually tells Marguerite that he kept his alter ego a secret from her because he was afraid she might have royalist tendencies. The heart of that problem was Marguerite’s thinking that she didn’t have to explain herself completely to him—that he should love her, trust her, and believe her without explanation. That’s probably a bad idea, even in the best of marriages. Although forgiveness and trust certainly are very important in the foundation of a good marriage, they don’t take the place of understanding and confidence. Marguerite longs to pour out her soul to Percy, to tell him of the anguish she’s in, but she can’t, because she’s never explained herself to him before.

Just as interesting is the motivation of the League of the Scarlet Pimpernel. When asked why they are risking their lives to save complete strangers from the guillotine, the one-word answer is: “Sport.” When it was first given, I thought this explanation was facetious. But there is nothing in the story that suggests that the Pimpernel and his men have any particular grudge with the French Revolution per se. At least not any more than any other Englishmen. By the end, I think I really believed that they were doing this not because it was the right thing to do, but because it was fun to do. I suppose doing the right thing for the wrong reason is better than doing the wrong thing.