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Even though I finished this book in 2013, I still hold that it is my favorite book that I read in 2012...when I began it.

Historian Tom Reiss (The Orientalist: Solving the Mystery of a Strange and Dangerous Life) took on the seemingly impossible task of writing not only a biography of a little known French general who has been dead for over 200 years, but also used his research to weave together an account of a life that could (and did) inspire thrilling novels (The Count of Monte Cristo), shed a different light on several aspects of French history, serve as an important and overlooked element of literary history, and serve as a reassessment of Napoleonic leadership and rule. Even the prologue, which tells of Reiss' struggle to secure access to some of the important documents used to research this book, would make an interesting documentary subject).

General Alex Dumas (father of novelist Alexandre Dumas) was born to a black slave mother and white French nobleman in Saint-Domingue where he was sold into slavery, but eventually made his way to Paris, where he was educated and sculpted into a French aristocrat. He went on to join the army as the lowest of the low, but quickly ascended the ranks where he commanded thousands of French soldiers during the years of the Revolution. Serving as one of Napoleon's trusted generals, he earned the respect of nearly all of the military despite the color of his skin. After leading the conquest of Egypt alongside Napoleon, he was captured and thrown into a dark prison where he was betrayed and slowly poisoned, only to escape once more. The France he spent his life championing, however, was not what he expected, and the leader he once worked so closely with (Bonaparte), would turn out to be perhaps his greatest enemy at his tragic end.

Though much of the documentation used to research this book was written in a hyperbolic and supremely glorifying tone, Reiss does a good job of placing the unbelievable arc of Alex Dumas' life in a robust historical context. Alternating between established history and comparisons with Alexandre Dumas' famous novels, Reiss provides us with an adventure that leaves the reader with much to consider on several levels. Whether the reader's interests lie in military history, literature, the evolution of French government, the question of Napoleon's greatness or moral failings, history of racial politics, or the issue of whitewashed world history, The Black Count will thrill and horrify them.

Reiss has written a work of posthumous retribution and one hell of an adventure that just happens to be true.

I'm just finishing up The Red and the Black so this review is timely, as I have been thinking how little I actually know about French history outside of the revolution and Napoleon. I really enjoyed The Orientalist. I guess I have to add this to reading my list now - thanks!