It’s the birthday of Alexandre Dumas (1802-1870), born on a summer day that many years later would be jam packed with cello lessons and piano lessons and packing and a big ol’ orthodontist appointment, so let’s do this thang:

  • He was born in Villers-Cotterêts, Aisne, France, and died at Puys, France, and in between was one of the most popular French authors of his century, best known and loved for his historical novels, The Three Musketeers (1844) and The Count of Monte Cristo (1844-1846).
  • Dumas was one quarter black, his grandmother having been a slave of Santo Domingo.
  • Dumas started out writing plays, which were hugely popular though not considered Particularly Great today.
  • According to a New Yorker article, Dumas paid 73 assistants to help him crank out his bazillion historical swashbuckling novels; he was sued at least once by a collaborator who wanted more credit (and royalties), but the court found in Dumas’ favor, feeling he was the true genius (Mary Halford, “Genius Factories Past and Present,” The New Yorker, August 22, 2010).
  • Dumas’ novels have been made into movies at least 25 times (or 200, according to another source); The Man in the Iron Mask (1998) alone starred such luminaries as Leonardo DiCaprio, Jeremy Irons, John Malkovich, Gerard Depardieu, and Gabriel Byrne. Maybe we should all rent that tonight. 6.5 stars out of 10 on imdb.
  • Dumas married the actress Ida Ferrier, but this did not stop him from having affairs with at least 40 women. (Land sakes, that seems like plenty. Just an observation, not a judgment.) He fathered out of wedlock at least four children, one of whom was a son also named Alexandre who also became a novelist.
  • Dumas was—wait for it—pretty bad with money, in the grand tradition of French authors who are bad with money. To picture this, imagine Dumas writing yet another wildly popular novel and making a lot of money. Then imagine him spending all that money on extravagant living and one (or several) of those 40 women. You’re welcome. Happy to bring that to life for you.

Have a pleasant and perhaps smug Tuesday, thinking about how much better with money you are than most of the French poets and novelists we all revere, and stay scrupulously honest to the data.