It was between 1843 and 1844 that Alexandre Dumas wrote “The Three Musketeers”. I don’t know why I picked up the book, maybe because it was good ‘literashure’. I picked it up along with some others mostly because my lovable kid brudder is gaga over “The Man in the Iron Mask”, another Dumas favourite it seems. I’m not normally interested in court intrigues or epic tales of derring-do (yah, right, sure..) so I thought “why not, lah; 2nd hand RM6.00 only lah” and bought it.

I’ve not finished it but one part got me in fits of laughter. I mean, first I stared at the page, eyes really wide, and then I started laughing incredulously when I decoded what was written… ok, let me just point out, hor, that I’m:-

  1. Not a bloddy lit student, ok?
  2. Not one of those ‘elegantly wasted’ metrosexual geeks with a penchant for disconnected post-post-modern love, ok?
  3. Not one of those overly cynical bastards about romance, hor; I mean, a bit’s fine, and some bits are just too damn much lah
  4. [Insert appropriate disclaimer for possible future bad behaviour]

Having said that, wahlan, check out the CHEESE!!

D’Artagnan took her hand and kissed it ardently.

“Oh, I wish I’d never met you!” he cried with that spontaneous bluntness that women often prefer to polite affectation because it reveals what is really in a man’s heart and shows that his emotion has won out over his reason (mon dieu! take deep breath… — ed.)

“I can’t say the same,” Madame Bonacieux replied almost lovingly, squeezing the hand that still held hers. “What’s lost for now isn’t lost for the future. Some day, when I’m free to speak, I will satisfy your curiousity.”

“And will you also satisfy my love?” asked D’Artagnan, overjoyed.

“I can’t promise that. It will depend on the feelings you’re able to arouse in me.” (mon dieu! invitation to treat! — ed.)

Cringe-worthy-goosebump-inducing-spiel lor.

And all this not bloddy two bloddy hours after they meet! I wonder if you see the same sort of melodrama in trashy romance novels in our day and age ;) .