GLR March-April 2026

ESSAY

Monte Cristo’s Women in Love J. B ARNES

F OR MILLENNIA sapphic women have been marginalized in both life and fiction. Historians are quick to dismiss potential lesbian love among figures from the past, and in most novels prior to the last few decades, queer-coded women in evitably set aside their sapphism by the end or suffered gruesome fates. None of the lesbian relationships in John Cleland’s FannyHill (1749) are seriously developed, and despite the heroine’s sapphic dalliances, she ultimately marries a man. In the eponymous 1872 novella, lesbian vampire Carmilla has a stake driven through her heart. In Sylvia Plath’s 1963 novel The Bell Jar , the protagonist’s sapphic friend kills herself in a mental institution. Yet in 1846, Alexander Dumas published a book that not only depicted lesbians in a positive light but gave them a happy ending and an escape from society. The Count of Monte Cristo is loaded with text and subtext about a relationship between Louise d’Armilly and Eugénie Danglars. Their romance dove tails with queer themes explored in Dumas’ other works as well as with the gay underworld that existed in France at the time. By synthesizing information from both sources, the reader can nary French sailor’s fall from grace, his rise to power as the count, and his vengeance on the men who took everything from him. Along the way, he deals with an amusing cast of characters, ranging from soldiers of fortune to police officers to a telegraph operator. He also destroys several corporations and families, in cluding the Danglars family, a wealthy clan in Paris consisting of the corrupt banker Baron Danglars, his cheating wife, and their daughter Eugénie. Before she even appears on the page, Eugénie’s nonconformity is evident in the words of the daugh ter of another enemy of the count, Valentine de Villefort: “[Eu génie] told me that she loved no one ... that she disliked the idea of being married; that she would infinitely prefer leading an in dependent and unfettered life; and that she almost wished her fa ther might lose his fortune, that she might become an artist, like her friend, Mademoiselle Louise d’Armilly.” Louise d’Armilly is Eugénie’s piano teacher. The two women have little impact on the plot for most of the novel, even as the count schemes to disgrace Baron Danglars by tricking J. Barnes, a freelance writer currently working for The Indypendent , lives in New York City. see that a loving relationship exists between the two women, providing them with a ful filling narrative sorely lacking in many more recent works, let alone novels of the 19th century. § D UMAS ’ MAGNUM OPUS deals with an ordi

him into engaging Eugénie to the criminal Andrea Cavalcanti, then having Cavalcanti arrested at their engagement party in front of the cream of Paris society. While the count puts his plans in motion, Eugénie is content lurking off the page with Louise. The two often spend time together in her bedroom after dinner, where Louise plays the piano to put Eugénie to sleep. The two women are obviously in love. Our early introduc tion to them is loaded with queer subtext: [Eugénie and Louise] were seen seated on the same chair, at the piano, accompanying themselves, each with one hand, a fancy to which they had accustomed themselves, and per formed admirably. … [Louise] was somewhat beautiful, and exquisitely formed—a little fairy-like figure, with large curls falling on her neck, which was rather too long, as Perugino sometimes makes his Virgins, and her eyes dull from fatigue. She was said to have a weak chest, and like Antonia in the Cre mona Violin, she would die one day while singing. Despite Eugénie’s engagement to Albert de Morcerf, she evi dently cares not a fig for him and primarily keeps company ex clusively with Louise, not even seeing other women. an acknowledged friend, Louise was treated with far more kind ness and consideration than is usually bestowed on a gov erness.” Again, there is a theme of a forbidden friendship. Louise is a performer, a profession seen as undesirable, sinful, and not an acceptable line of work for a banker’s daughter. Thus the prohibition is twofold: one because of the nature of their re lationship as two women, the other because of their unequal sta tion in society. There are allusions to Louise’s sway over Eugénie: “Now, Madame Danglars feared Eugénie’s sagacity and the influence of Mademoiselle d’Armilly; she had frequently observed the contemptuous expression with which her daughter looked upon Debray [her mother’s lover].” Although Madame Danglars is thinking about Louise’s potential to lure Eugénie away from the world of banking, the implication could just as easily be that Louise may be exposing Eugénie to non-heterosexual mores. Indeed, Louise’s association with the performing arts is another mark of her gayness, as queer people have long been overrep resented in such creative pursuits. At last, the count’s scheming comes to a head. Eugénie’s fa ther cancels her engagement to Morcerf and instead betroths her Due to social mores, however, Louise and Eugénie cannot be friends publicly, as the narrator says: “[Eugénie], though perfectly willing to allow Mademoiselle Louise d’Armilly … to practice with her through the day, took especial care not to be seen in her company. Still, though not actually re ceived at the Hôtel Danglars in the light of

Dumas’ novel not only depicted lesbians in a posi ti ve light but gave them a happy ending and an escape from society.

March–April 2026

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