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The Scarlet Pimpernel (chronological order) #4
Elusive Pimpernel
Baroness Emmuska Orczy (1865-1947) was a British novelist, playwright and artist whose noble Hungarian origins afforded her an idyllic childhood and extensive education in the arts at schools in Brussels, Paris and London. In 1903, with the success of a play written by Orczy and her husband based on one of her short stories about an English aristocrat, Orczy rewrote the story as a novel that drew huge sales. As a result, "The Scarlet Pimpernel" cemented Orczy's name in the literary world, and led to over a dozen sequels and countless television, film and musical reproductions. "The Elusive Pimpernel" is the fourth book in this series of novels featuring the cunning and valiant Pimpernel, a master of disguise and hero of the French Revolution. In this sequel, the French agent Chauvelin seeks revenge once and for all against the Pimpernel for the humiliations he has suffered. Literary thrill-seekers won't be disappointed with this racy and melodramatic story of romance and revenge.
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First published January 1, 1908
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About the author
Emmuska Orczy
676 books1,038 followersFull name: Emma ("Emmuska") Magdolna Rozália Mária Jozefa Borbála Orczy de Orczi was a Hungarian-British novelist, best remembered as the author of THE SCARLET PIMPERNEL (1905). Baroness Orczy's sequels to the novel were less successful. She was also an artist, and her works were exhibited at the Royal Academy, London. Her first venture into fiction was with crime stories. Among her most popular characters was The Old Man in the Corner, who was featured in a series of twelve British movies from 1924, starring Rolf Leslie.
Baroness Emmuska Orczy was born in Tarnaörs, Hungary, as the only daughter of Baron Felix Orczy, a noted composer and conductor, and his wife Emma. Her father was a friend of such composers as Wagner, Liszt, and Gounod. Orczy moved with her parents from Budapest to Brussels and then to London, learning to speak English at the age of fifteen. She was educated in convent schools in Brussels and Paris. In London she studied at the West London School of Art. Orczy married in 1894 Montague Barstow, whom she had met while studying at the Heatherby School of Art. Together they started to produce book and magazine illustrations and published an edition of Hungarian folktales.
Orczy's first detective stories appeared in magazines. As a writer she became famous in 1903 with the stage version of the Scarlet Pimpernel.
Baroness Emmuska Orczy was born in Tarnaörs, Hungary, as the only daughter of Baron Felix Orczy, a noted composer and conductor, and his wife Emma. Her father was a friend of such composers as Wagner, Liszt, and Gounod. Orczy moved with her parents from Budapest to Brussels and then to London, learning to speak English at the age of fifteen. She was educated in convent schools in Brussels and Paris. In London she studied at the West London School of Art. Orczy married in 1894 Montague Barstow, whom she had met while studying at the Heatherby School of Art. Together they started to produce book and magazine illustrations and published an edition of Hungarian folktales.
Orczy's first detective stories appeared in magazines. As a writer she became famous in 1903 with the stage version of the Scarlet Pimpernel.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 249 reviews
February 11, 2024
Fun. But not as fun as the original.
The first book in the series felt a bit more genuine because Lady Blakeney was unaware of her husband's secret identity, so her fuckups were funny but she didn't come off as an idiot.
This time around, she just came off as a dumbass for the sake of dumbassery.
So, due to plot requirements, Marguerite St. Just (aka Lady Blakeney) rushes headfirst into danger and gets herself captured by the evil Chauvelin and his cronies.
HEADS WILL ROLL!
Get it? Get it...?
The best part of this one is how sweet Marguerite and Percy are together in this one. Come for the adventure, stay for the romance, right?
Ok, so the skinny gist is that Chauvelin manages to worm an invite into the Blakeney's home during a big party, and then challenges Sir Percy to a duel over the honor of a French actress who purposely stirred up a young guest of the Blakeneys by wearing her dead mother's jewels to the party. Duels are illegal in England, so when Percy accepts Chauvelin's challenge the only way to fulfill it is to travel to France.
Where the mad revolutionists are waiting to grab him and lop off his head!
Or something along those lines.
This story, while cute, just didn't have the same spark for me.
I'm not sure if I continue on with these books, but I'm not sorry I've read them, either.
The first book in the series felt a bit more genuine because Lady Blakeney was unaware of her husband's secret identity, so her fuckups were funny but she didn't come off as an idiot.
This time around, she just came off as a dumbass for the sake of dumbassery.
So, due to plot requirements, Marguerite St. Just (aka Lady Blakeney) rushes headfirst into danger and gets herself captured by the evil Chauvelin and his cronies.
HEADS WILL ROLL!
Get it? Get it...?
The best part of this one is how sweet Marguerite and Percy are together in this one. Come for the adventure, stay for the romance, right?
Ok, so the skinny gist is that Chauvelin manages to worm an invite into the Blakeney's home during a big party, and then challenges Sir Percy to a duel over the honor of a French actress who purposely stirred up a young guest of the Blakeneys by wearing her dead mother's jewels to the party. Duels are illegal in England, so when Percy accepts Chauvelin's challenge the only way to fulfill it is to travel to France.
Where the mad revolutionists are waiting to grab him and lop off his head!
Or something along those lines.
This story, while cute, just didn't have the same spark for me.
I'm not sure if I continue on with these books, but I'm not sorry I've read them, either.
April 3, 2009
This is my second foray into Pimpernel literature. This is actually the third book chronologically. I'm not sure yet how episodic the story works out...this is evidently taking place after the first novel but I didn't feel like I missed out on anything by skipping the second book. It also didn't really feel like much would have been missed by skipping the first book (although the first did involve more character development of the core characters). I would recommend reading the first novel first, especially if you know nothing about the Pimpernel story, but I don't think it's vital.
This Pimpernel adventure was a fun read and well worth reading. Orczy's writing style is fluid and easy to read and follow and her characters are vivid and interesting. The plot of this book was very intriguing. The Pimpernel is pitted against his enemy from the first novel, the French agent Chauvelin. Chauvelin has been given one final chance from Robespierre to catch the Pimpernell with the ultimatum that the world will either be rid of the Pimpernel or Chauvelin by the end of the adventure.
The plot that Chauvelin comes up with to capture the Pimpernel is fairly diabolical and truly seems foolproof. It stands as evidence of Orczy's creative ingenuity and the fullness of her characters, especially as each intricate detail plays out. It exposes Chauvelin's arrogance and his prideful desire for personal and lasting vengeance. I was very satisfied with the machinations of the plot until I realized that the remaining pages were growing few and I began to anticipate a potentially dissatisfying ending.
Upon finally reaching the climactic wrap up to the adventure, I admit to being somewhat disappointed in the way things played out. Though honestly, I expected an even worse ending based on how tightly she had tied the net around our hero. I saw little hope for an exciting and viable escape (and I doubt it's any spoiler to anyone that the hero had to escape). The solution provided wasn't entirely satisfactory in my mind, but it worked out well enough, especially considering the era in which the events took place.
Before I wrap up this report, I want to comment on one of the things that this novel does that I especially enjoy. In many of the novels I've read, the central heroic character is very close to the reader. We are often either right on the shoulder or even within the head of our heroic protagonist. However, in the case of Pimpernel, Orczy plays with this concept and puts us inside the head of many of the peripheral characters, even some of the very minor characters, but never lets us truly get inside the mind of the titular hero. It reminds me vaguely of the way Conan Doyle keeps us from directly knowing the inner workings of Holmes' mind. In the same way, we find ourself aligned closely with Marguerite's fears and Chauvelin's scheming, but we never align ourselves directly with the heroic thoughts of the Pimpernel. This adds to the suspense in wondering just how he could possibly escape the tightly woven trap laid for him.
I think I enjoyed this book better than the first Pimpernel story, but they were both a lot of fun. I hope to be able to track down more of them to read. They're a great bit of fun for any fan of historical adventure combined with a touch of humor.
****
4 stars
This Pimpernel adventure was a fun read and well worth reading. Orczy's writing style is fluid and easy to read and follow and her characters are vivid and interesting. The plot of this book was very intriguing. The Pimpernel is pitted against his enemy from the first novel, the French agent Chauvelin. Chauvelin has been given one final chance from Robespierre to catch the Pimpernell with the ultimatum that the world will either be rid of the Pimpernel or Chauvelin by the end of the adventure.
The plot that Chauvelin comes up with to capture the Pimpernel is fairly diabolical and truly seems foolproof. It stands as evidence of Orczy's creative ingenuity and the fullness of her characters, especially as each intricate detail plays out. It exposes Chauvelin's arrogance and his prideful desire for personal and lasting vengeance. I was very satisfied with the machinations of the plot until I realized that the remaining pages were growing few and I began to anticipate a potentially dissatisfying ending.
Upon finally reaching the climactic wrap up to the adventure, I admit to being somewhat disappointed in the way things played out. Though honestly, I expected an even worse ending based on how tightly she had tied the net around our hero. I saw little hope for an exciting and viable escape (and I doubt it's any spoiler to anyone that the hero had to escape). The solution provided wasn't entirely satisfactory in my mind, but it worked out well enough, especially considering the era in which the events took place.
Before I wrap up this report, I want to comment on one of the things that this novel does that I especially enjoy. In many of the novels I've read, the central heroic character is very close to the reader. We are often either right on the shoulder or even within the head of our heroic protagonist. However, in the case of Pimpernel, Orczy plays with this concept and puts us inside the head of many of the peripheral characters, even some of the very minor characters, but never lets us truly get inside the mind of the titular hero. It reminds me vaguely of the way Conan Doyle keeps us from directly knowing the inner workings of Holmes' mind. In the same way, we find ourself aligned closely with Marguerite's fears and Chauvelin's scheming, but we never align ourselves directly with the heroic thoughts of the Pimpernel. This adds to the suspense in wondering just how he could possibly escape the tightly woven trap laid for him.
I think I enjoyed this book better than the first Pimpernel story, but they were both a lot of fun. I hope to be able to track down more of them to read. They're a great bit of fun for any fan of historical adventure combined with a touch of humor.
****
4 stars
August 9, 2017
Whew! That was fun and very riveting. I even groaned throughout with uncertainty (#hardlyeverhappens)!
A little less foolishness with the romantic relationship, and a very quick moving engaging plot – I was especially engaged with the mood and atmosphere and a real sense of place and time.... and of course who doesn't love to see arch enemies meet again? The repartee and tension between Chauvelin and Percy is excellent, although I was a little disappointed at not seeing them swordfight.
A page turner from the very beginning!
3.5 stars!
A little less foolishness with the romantic relationship, and a very quick moving engaging plot – I was especially engaged with the mood and atmosphere and a real sense of place and time.... and of course who doesn't love to see arch enemies meet again? The repartee and tension between Chauvelin and Percy is excellent, although I was a little disappointed at not seeing them swordfight.
A page turner from the very beginning!
3.5 stars!
January 16, 2025
Thanks to a Christmas gift, this is the second time I’ve experienced this return to the intriguing world of Sir Percy and Marguerite. The Elusive Pimpernel is almost as good as the first book. Possibly just as good, though shorter. We get to spend most of the book with Marguerite, Sir Percy, and Chauvelin, which is as it should be. There is something deliciously thrilling about a book where one knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that the good guy will triumph. The only question is how.
The correct order of the Pimpernel books can be a bit confusing. The publication order is not the same as the order in which the series events occur. In publication order, The Elusive Pimpernel is #3. This follows The Scarlet Pimpernel (the original novel) at #1 and I Will Repay at #2. But I Will Repay is not primarily about the Scarlet Pimpernel himself. The story revolves around two French refugees with only cameo appearances by Sir Percy, so it’s hard to consider it a true sequel.
In chronological order, two prequel novels about the Blakeney ancestors start the series. Next we have The Scarlet Pimpernel , Sir Percy Leads the Band , and The League of the Scarlet Pimpernel . (Links are to my Goodreads or blog reviews.) I Will Repay follows these before we get to The Elusive Pimpernel.
Regardless of either publication order or chronological order, The Elusive Pimpernel “feels” like the direct sequel to the original novel. It’s set in the world of the English upper class and is told primarily through the eyes of Marguerite and Chauvelin. The story introduces new intrigues but follows the characters we know and love. (Or love to hate, in Chauvelin’s case.) For those reasons, I usually recommend it as the “next in series.” Readers who prize true chronological order may prefer I Will Repay first, since it introduces characters who reappear in The Elusive Pimpernel.
I appreciate the realism of the Blakeneys’ relationship in that everything isn’t hunky-dory even though husband and wife are now thoroughly in love with each other (to a degree that fashionable London society finds embarrassing). In the first book, Marguerite has no idea how to interpret the change that has come over her husband and Sir Percy has no idea whether he can trust a woman who apparently betrayed an innocent family. Having resolved that tension, Baroness Orczy introduces a new one: Can Marguerite’s newfound love bear to see her husband risk his life over and over for other people? If he really loved her, would he leave her so often?
Maybe it’s selfish of her, but it’s very realistic. Many books would simply have Sir Percy decide that “love conquers all” so he and Marguerite can enjoy their wedded bliss. But The Elusive Pimpernel shows us that although Sir Percy’s passion for Marguerite is beyond question, she cannot change the man he is, and he cannot sacrifice the lives of thousands for their own happily ever after. (This is another example of secular fiction that gives less intimate detail than much of today’s Christian fiction without weakening the characters’ passion for each other.)
I think we all know, deep down, that true heroes don’t follow their hearts and live their own best life. This reminds me of the 1950s Disney Zorro episode in which the question is asked, “Doesn’t Zorro have the right to take off his mask and live his own life?” and the answer is “No.”
In addition to true heroes giving up their own desires, this story has given me other biblical reminders, strange as it may seem to find spiritual applications in a secular adventure novel:
First, Marguerite deeply cares for the French refugee girl entrusted to her keeping. Not because she has any particular love for her or knows her all that well, but because Sir Percy risked his life to save her. Marguerite can’t help but love anyone who represents the sacrifice of the man she adores. That’s how we should see every fellow believer—beloved not because of their own worth but because our Beloved gave his life to save them.
And second, there’s a scene where Marguerite has gotten herself into serious trouble at the hands of Chauvelin and is on the verge of utter despair. (Knowing Marguerite, it would be beautiful, graceful, stage-worthy despair, but still.) I love this scene for the moment in which she abruptly realizes that she has no reason for despair. She’s married to the Scarlet Pimpernel, after all! How often do we give in to fear instead of remembering we’re bound by covenant to the greatest Rescuer in the universe? Though Marguerite, like us, continues to wrestle her anxiety, it’s a powerful reminder that we have no need to fear.
On the other hand…I do think everyone would have been much better off if Marguerite had acted on her much-declared love and simply trusted Sir Percy instead of gallivanting after him and getting not only herself and Sir Percy but also an entire village in a serious pickle. I wanted to talk sense to her now and then. Especially when Chauvelin’s devious plans were laid bare to the reader and Marguerite walked blithely into his traps. (This was despite being described as “the cleverest woman in Europe.”)
And speaking of Chauvelin’s devious plans, his scheme to bring down the Scarlet Pimpernel seemed vaguely naive to me. Surely he didn’t think it would succeed as far as the League of the Scarlet Pimpernel was concerned. But that’s a villain for you, thinking of his schemes more highly than he ought to think.
If you’re in this book for the Scarlet Pimpernel himself, however, Sir Percy is at his best both in and out of character. (Those flashes between personalities are such fun.) I loved seeing him pop up hither and yon and disconcert the man we all love to hate. I loved watching Chauvelin squirm at his inability to figure out just what the Scarlet Pimpernel had up his sleeve. And I loved trying to guess it along with him.
I did not love the plethora of ellipses that peppered the dialogue and made it sound as if Sir Percy and Chauvelin perpetually falter when they speak. But I suppose that’s just another instance of the dramatic, flowery writing style that wears a bit after a while. Readers should also note that The Elusive Pimpernel contains as much profanity as the original novel.
Although this book is not the second in the series, it feels that way, and I highly enjoyed the continuation of my favorite characters’ stories. I grinned like a fool through much of it. There’s just something about waiting for Sir Percy to drop the other shoe on the unsuspecting Chauvelin. All in all, an exhilarating return to the cast and setting of the original novel, recommended for those who love adventure, drama, and the world of The Scarlet Pimpernel.
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The correct order of the Pimpernel books can be a bit confusing. The publication order is not the same as the order in which the series events occur. In publication order, The Elusive Pimpernel is #3. This follows The Scarlet Pimpernel (the original novel) at #1 and I Will Repay at #2. But I Will Repay is not primarily about the Scarlet Pimpernel himself. The story revolves around two French refugees with only cameo appearances by Sir Percy, so it’s hard to consider it a true sequel.
In chronological order, two prequel novels about the Blakeney ancestors start the series. Next we have The Scarlet Pimpernel , Sir Percy Leads the Band , and The League of the Scarlet Pimpernel . (Links are to my Goodreads or blog reviews.) I Will Repay follows these before we get to The Elusive Pimpernel.
Regardless of either publication order or chronological order, The Elusive Pimpernel “feels” like the direct sequel to the original novel. It’s set in the world of the English upper class and is told primarily through the eyes of Marguerite and Chauvelin. The story introduces new intrigues but follows the characters we know and love. (Or love to hate, in Chauvelin’s case.) For those reasons, I usually recommend it as the “next in series.” Readers who prize true chronological order may prefer I Will Repay first, since it introduces characters who reappear in The Elusive Pimpernel.
I appreciate the realism of the Blakeneys’ relationship in that everything isn’t hunky-dory even though husband and wife are now thoroughly in love with each other (to a degree that fashionable London society finds embarrassing). In the first book, Marguerite has no idea how to interpret the change that has come over her husband and Sir Percy has no idea whether he can trust a woman who apparently betrayed an innocent family. Having resolved that tension, Baroness Orczy introduces a new one: Can Marguerite’s newfound love bear to see her husband risk his life over and over for other people? If he really loved her, would he leave her so often?
Maybe it’s selfish of her, but it’s very realistic. Many books would simply have Sir Percy decide that “love conquers all” so he and Marguerite can enjoy their wedded bliss. But The Elusive Pimpernel shows us that although Sir Percy’s passion for Marguerite is beyond question, she cannot change the man he is, and he cannot sacrifice the lives of thousands for their own happily ever after. (This is another example of secular fiction that gives less intimate detail than much of today’s Christian fiction without weakening the characters’ passion for each other.)
I think we all know, deep down, that true heroes don’t follow their hearts and live their own best life. This reminds me of the 1950s Disney Zorro episode in which the question is asked, “Doesn’t Zorro have the right to take off his mask and live his own life?” and the answer is “No.”
In addition to true heroes giving up their own desires, this story has given me other biblical reminders, strange as it may seem to find spiritual applications in a secular adventure novel:
First, Marguerite deeply cares for the French refugee girl entrusted to her keeping. Not because she has any particular love for her or knows her all that well, but because Sir Percy risked his life to save her. Marguerite can’t help but love anyone who represents the sacrifice of the man she adores. That’s how we should see every fellow believer—beloved not because of their own worth but because our Beloved gave his life to save them.
And second, there’s a scene where Marguerite has gotten herself into serious trouble at the hands of Chauvelin and is on the verge of utter despair. (Knowing Marguerite, it would be beautiful, graceful, stage-worthy despair, but still.) I love this scene for the moment in which she abruptly realizes that she has no reason for despair. She’s married to the Scarlet Pimpernel, after all! How often do we give in to fear instead of remembering we’re bound by covenant to the greatest Rescuer in the universe? Though Marguerite, like us, continues to wrestle her anxiety, it’s a powerful reminder that we have no need to fear.
On the other hand…I do think everyone would have been much better off if Marguerite had acted on her much-declared love and simply trusted Sir Percy instead of gallivanting after him and getting not only herself and Sir Percy but also an entire village in a serious pickle. I wanted to talk sense to her now and then. Especially when Chauvelin’s devious plans were laid bare to the reader and Marguerite walked blithely into his traps. (This was despite being described as “the cleverest woman in Europe.”)
And speaking of Chauvelin’s devious plans, his scheme to bring down the Scarlet Pimpernel seemed vaguely naive to me. Surely he didn’t think it would succeed as far as the League of the Scarlet Pimpernel was concerned. But that’s a villain for you, thinking of his schemes more highly than he ought to think.
If you’re in this book for the Scarlet Pimpernel himself, however, Sir Percy is at his best both in and out of character. (Those flashes between personalities are such fun.) I loved seeing him pop up hither and yon and disconcert the man we all love to hate. I loved watching Chauvelin squirm at his inability to figure out just what the Scarlet Pimpernel had up his sleeve. And I loved trying to guess it along with him.
I did not love the plethora of ellipses that peppered the dialogue and made it sound as if Sir Percy and Chauvelin perpetually falter when they speak. But I suppose that’s just another instance of the dramatic, flowery writing style that wears a bit after a while. Readers should also note that The Elusive Pimpernel contains as much profanity as the original novel.
Although this book is not the second in the series, it feels that way, and I highly enjoyed the continuation of my favorite characters’ stories. I grinned like a fool through much of it. There’s just something about waiting for Sir Percy to drop the other shoe on the unsuspecting Chauvelin. All in all, an exhilarating return to the cast and setting of the original novel, recommended for those who love adventure, drama, and the world of The Scarlet Pimpernel.
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March 2, 2016
I really, really, really loved this book! Why?
1). It has a very fast pace. By chapter 4, the events are already building to the climax.
2). I happen to really love Marguerite as a character as most of this book is once again told in her POV.
3). It is absolutely hilarious! Most of the Scarlet Pimpernel books are funny in some measure, but much of this book, and especially the ending had me snorting with laughter. The author very cleverly uses what we consider today to be clichés and turns them on their head. Much of this is done through the character of Sir Percy Blakeney, who keeps up his pretense of being a lazy, not-very-smart fop even when he is caught and known to be the Scarlet Pimpernel.
For example
1). It has a very fast pace. By chapter 4, the events are already building to the climax.
2). I happen to really love Marguerite as a character as most of this book is once again told in her POV.
3). It is absolutely hilarious! Most of the Scarlet Pimpernel books are funny in some measure, but much of this book, and especially the ending had me snorting with laughter. The author very cleverly uses what we consider today to be clichés and turns them on their head. Much of this is done through the character of Sir Percy Blakeney, who keeps up his pretense of being a lazy, not-very-smart fop even when he is caught and known to be the Scarlet Pimpernel.
For example
July 15, 2018
Any scene with Marguerite and Percy Blakeney in it is bound to be A+. Any scene with The Scarlet Pimpernel and Chauvelin is bound to be A++. And since I Will Repay introduced a whole new cast of characters, it was so lovely to get back to the original ones again and watch The Scarlet Pimpernel run rings around Monsieur Chauvelin. I was cracking up more than once—and while this is probably going to be one of the shortest reviews I’ve written in a long time—I don’t think there’s much to say. Baroness Emmuska Orczy knew how to tell a darn good story, and The Elusive Pimpernel is no exception.
March 20, 2015
Still a really good read. Action, adventure and romance. Loved it.
January 4, 2024
5 stars. Now THIS is the sequel to
The Scarlet Pimpernel
that I was waiting for! It parallels the earlier book in the set-up, which I loved, because it’s like reading a new version of a book I love—my favourite thing!!
I cannot remember the specifics at this point because I read this literally a month ago, but I remember I LOVED it, and I was GLUED to the page because I COULD NOT IMAGINE how Percy would get himself and Marguerite out of there. Chauvelin was as devilishly cunning as ever, and juuuuust barely lacking; and Marguerite was… also herself… although I hope she is not cured and doesn’t run after Percy any more! And Sir Andrew is perfection, as always. (And I loved the addition of Desirée, and Juliette from book 2!)
So yes, the perfect combination of excitement and sweetness and mystery and humour, the same writing style I enjoyed in book 1, and I loved it!! Better review to come upon reread :)
Content: language.
A Favourite Quote: “Bein’ starving so to speak, don’t make a murderer a better man if he goes on murdering.”
A Favourite Humorous Quote: “You may rest assured of one thing, Sir Percy,” he said with a harsh laugh, “that enough mud will be thrown at that erstwhile glorious Scarlet Pimpernel... some of it will be bound to stick...”
“Nay, Monsieur... er... Chaubertin,” quoth Blakeney lightly, “I have no doubt that you and your colleagues are past masters in the graceful art of mud-throwing.... But pardon me... er.... I was interrupting you.... Continue, Monsieur... continue, I pray. ’Pon my honour, the matter is vastly diverting.”
“Nay, sir, after the publication of this diverting epistle, meseems your honour will ceased to be a marketable commodity.”
“Undoubtedly, sir,” rejoined Sir Percy, apparently quite unruffled, “pardon a slip of the tongue... we are so much the creatures of habit.... As you were saying...?”
“I have but little more to say, sir.... But lest there should even now be lurking in your mind a vague hope that, having written this letter, you could easily in the future deny its authorship, let me tell you this: my measures are well taken, there will be witnesses to your writing of it…[.]”
Chauvelin had paused, half-choked by his own emotion, his hatred and prospective revenge. He passed his handkerchief over his forehead, which was streaming with perspiration.
“Warm work, this sort of thing... eh... Monsieur... er... Chaubertin?...” queried his imperturbable enemy.
I cannot remember the specifics at this point because I read this literally a month ago, but I remember I LOVED it, and I was GLUED to the page because I COULD NOT IMAGINE how Percy would get himself and Marguerite out of there. Chauvelin was as devilishly cunning as ever, and juuuuust barely lacking; and Marguerite was… also herself… although I hope she is not cured and doesn’t run after Percy any more! And Sir Andrew is perfection, as always. (And I loved the addition of Desirée, and Juliette from book 2!)
So yes, the perfect combination of excitement and sweetness and mystery and humour, the same writing style I enjoyed in book 1, and I loved it!! Better review to come upon reread :)
Content: language.
A Favourite Quote: “Bein’ starving so to speak, don’t make a murderer a better man if he goes on murdering.”
A Favourite Humorous Quote: “You may rest assured of one thing, Sir Percy,” he said with a harsh laugh, “that enough mud will be thrown at that erstwhile glorious Scarlet Pimpernel... some of it will be bound to stick...”
“Nay, Monsieur... er... Chaubertin,” quoth Blakeney lightly, “I have no doubt that you and your colleagues are past masters in the graceful art of mud-throwing.... But pardon me... er.... I was interrupting you.... Continue, Monsieur... continue, I pray. ’Pon my honour, the matter is vastly diverting.”
“Nay, sir, after the publication of this diverting epistle, meseems your honour will ceased to be a marketable commodity.”
“Undoubtedly, sir,” rejoined Sir Percy, apparently quite unruffled, “pardon a slip of the tongue... we are so much the creatures of habit.... As you were saying...?”
“I have but little more to say, sir.... But lest there should even now be lurking in your mind a vague hope that, having written this letter, you could easily in the future deny its authorship, let me tell you this: my measures are well taken, there will be witnesses to your writing of it…[.]”
Chauvelin had paused, half-choked by his own emotion, his hatred and prospective revenge. He passed his handkerchief over his forehead, which was streaming with perspiration.
“Warm work, this sort of thing... eh... Monsieur... er... Chaubertin?...” queried his imperturbable enemy.
May 11, 2023
Exciting and very much in keeping with the original book.
April 29, 2011
Just awful. Magnifies all the weaknesses of The Scarlet Pimpernel, to the point where the sequel has made me like the first book less than I did originally. The plot here is flimsy at best, the histrionics are neverending, and the aristocracy-worship is seriously out of hand.
The sad thing is that there's an interesting conflict buried deep beneath the swooning fits, between Percy's love of adventure and his love for Marguerite/her desire to keep him safe at home. But it isn't addressed in a meaningful way--it's just a reason for Percy to demonstrate his superhuman willpower and for Marguerite to cry and angst and pass out. I've never encountered a character who spends more time unconscious than Marguerite St. Just Blakeney.
Also, can we discuss that "cleverest woman in Europe" appellation? Who came up with that one? Because she is dumber than a doornail. As usual, Marguerite rushes blindly into every waiting trap and gets caught by Chauvelin in about two seconds. Heroine fail!
Finally, the relationship between Percy and Marguerite essentially sucks. Orczy wants us to believe in this deep, earth-shaking love between them, but we never see them share anything about their true selves with one another. They are the worst communicators ever, keeping all their plans and feelings secret, to the point where they endanger each other's lives. So does their bond really go deeper than the fact that she's gorgeous, and he's rich and handsome and fashionable, and they make an attractive power couple in London society?
...Am I overthinking this one?
The sad thing is that there's an interesting conflict buried deep beneath the swooning fits, between Percy's love of adventure and his love for Marguerite/her desire to keep him safe at home. But it isn't addressed in a meaningful way--it's just a reason for Percy to demonstrate his superhuman willpower and for Marguerite to cry and angst and pass out. I've never encountered a character who spends more time unconscious than Marguerite St. Just Blakeney.
Also, can we discuss that "cleverest woman in Europe" appellation? Who came up with that one? Because she is dumber than a doornail. As usual, Marguerite rushes blindly into every waiting trap and gets caught by Chauvelin in about two seconds. Heroine fail!
Finally, the relationship between Percy and Marguerite essentially sucks. Orczy wants us to believe in this deep, earth-shaking love between them, but we never see them share anything about their true selves with one another. They are the worst communicators ever, keeping all their plans and feelings secret, to the point where they endanger each other's lives. So does their bond really go deeper than the fact that she's gorgeous, and he's rich and handsome and fashionable, and they make an attractive power couple in London society?
...Am I overthinking this one?
September 18, 2017
Like so many of the Pimpernel stories, this one has a good story at its heart. The ever-hopeful Chauvelin (seriously under pressure from Robespierre and his goons, given his past failures) comes up with yet another scheme to lure his arch-enemy to French shores with the intent of capturing the Scarlet Pimpernel and sending him to the guillotine. Also as ever, Chauvelin receives unintentional help from his quarry’s well-meaning and passionately devoted but, alas, not terribly bright wife, Marguerite. At least this adventure explicitly addresses the irony of said wife once having been known as “the cleverest woman in Europe.” A contest of wills and wiles ensues.
The issues here are two—one of style and one, I think, mostly of history. Baroness Orczy never met an exclamation point she couldn’t love, and although her original editor seems to have reined her in somewhat, the exclamation points multiply. Here they occur once in every paragraph, sometimes at the end of every sentence, and the result is a breathless rant on the Parisian mob and its atrocities that the plot can’t sustain.
The second issue is Marguerite. As a novelist, I understand why Marguerite appears in so many of the books: she is the main point-of-view character, whereas her husband operates best behind a cloak of mystery. And Orczy is certainly capable of writing dedicated and powerful women, most of them Jacobins. But her devotion to Marguerite (by some accounts her fantasy alter ego) leads to repeated scenes in which Marguerite falls for a trap that even a six-year-old would steer clear of. It’s particularly annoying when, as here, she could take the same actions with her eyes open, out of courage rather than cluelessness. But again, I think the approach mostly reflects the early twentieth-century view of how “good”women behaved.
Still, it’s a Scarlet Pimpernel story, and those are always fun. And if you’d like to see a modern take on the theme, without the fainting and foolishness, check out my The Not Exactly Scarlet Pimpernel.
The issues here are two—one of style and one, I think, mostly of history. Baroness Orczy never met an exclamation point she couldn’t love, and although her original editor seems to have reined her in somewhat, the exclamation points multiply. Here they occur once in every paragraph, sometimes at the end of every sentence, and the result is a breathless rant on the Parisian mob and its atrocities that the plot can’t sustain.
The second issue is Marguerite. As a novelist, I understand why Marguerite appears in so many of the books: she is the main point-of-view character, whereas her husband operates best behind a cloak of mystery. And Orczy is certainly capable of writing dedicated and powerful women, most of them Jacobins. But her devotion to Marguerite (by some accounts her fantasy alter ego) leads to repeated scenes in which Marguerite falls for a trap that even a six-year-old would steer clear of. It’s particularly annoying when, as here, she could take the same actions with her eyes open, out of courage rather than cluelessness. But again, I think the approach mostly reflects the early twentieth-century view of how “good”women behaved.
Still, it’s a Scarlet Pimpernel story, and those are always fun. And if you’d like to see a modern take on the theme, without the fainting and foolishness, check out my The Not Exactly Scarlet Pimpernel.
Read
April 22, 2022re-read
this one is better than the first book
this one is better than the first book
February 4, 2022
I only recently found out that one of my favorite books (the Scarlet Pimpernel) was in fact the first of a series of books! I really enjoyed this continued story!!
June 17, 2022
Better then any movie, show or musical adaptation I have ever seen! The book is really better in this case. Enjoyed the characters, plot and how beautifully it was written. This while series was honestly fantastic.
The audiobooks were great and I want to own physical copies for my personal library.
The audiobooks were great and I want to own physical copies for my personal library.
October 4, 2019
Not as good as the first one and Marguerite's actions are a bit frustrating, but still highly enjoyable due to the tension of Chauvelin's ultimatum, the vivid rendering of the violent hypocrisy of the time period, and most of all, the beguiling Percy Blakeney. Seriously, he's got to be one of the best literary characters of all time, enlivening every single scene he graces - like a proto-Jack Sparrow. Very fun read!
July 17, 2019
Percy might be my favorite person in the world. He is so funny and amazing and awesome at everything he does. Marguerite always makes me concerned that he won't do it. I actually thought this time it might be the end of the Scarlet Pimpernel. I am so weak minded. I should have had faith in him.
June 12, 2017
"My hat's off to you, Sir Percy. You've done it again!"
Basically my reaction to this book. <3
Basically my reaction to this book. <3
January 13, 2025
This series has been so good. Multiple times while I was listening to this book in particular I had to pause it and wonder aloud to myself, "How have I never heard of these books? They have everything going for them!" An engaging plot, writing full of beautiful descriptions that colorfully spur the action, multiple points of view for added depth, plus a witty misunderstood main character who would do give up anything (excepting his love for adventure?) for the woman he loves....what's not to like? (Oh, and lets not forget a truly terrible, while at the same time understandable bad guy.) Needless to say, I would 100% recommend!
September 16, 2024
Over 200 pages of Sir Percy Blakeney yawning and napping his way out of trouble... truly inspiring!
December 1, 2024
"The Elusive Pimpernel" in an odd sense serves as a sequel in parallel to *both* the original novel "The Scarlet Pimpernel" and to its follow-up, "I Will Repay"; it is far closer to the former in setting and content, being a return to the familiar characters and tropes of the original hit, and yet the beginning of the story directly references the events of "I Will Repay", and uses Juliette Marny and her family jewels as a trigger for the main plot. (Although the brief allusions that do occur don't actually appear all that consistent -- I would guess that the author didn't reread her own work!)
In this book we get to see for the first time the after-effects of the events of "The Scarlet Pimpernel" upon Marguerite Blakeney's marriage, and their public life in England now that she knows the truth about her husband. The secret is still closely guarded, but while his ostensible attitude towards her has not changed ("No one could assert that Sir Percy was anything but politely indifferent to his wife's obvious attentions"), she has made no attempt to conceal her new happiness, or the fact that, "contrary to all usages and customs of London society", she is clearly passionately in love with her own husband. The fashionable world is bemused, but suspects nothing; Marguerite continues to make fun of his supposed dull wits, and he to play his role precisely as before. Only, of course, she now has to live with the knowledge that during those absences from home during which the world presumes him to be neglecting her -- "fishing in Scotland or shooting in Yorkshire" -- he is instead risking his neck in France for the sake of complete strangers, and, ultimately, however much he may love her, for the pure thrill of the adventure.
We also get to find out what happened to Chauvelin as a result of his humiliating failure at the hands of the Pimpernel a year earlier. From the complete absence of his name from among the various influential members of the Republican establishment who feature in "I Will Repay", and the executions there for generals who failed to win battles or accusers who failed to secure convictions, one might perhaps have assumed that he had duly paid with his life for his blunder.
But at the start of "The Elusive Pimpernel" we are told that Chauvelin had simply "been left to moulder in obscurity" after his downfall, which gives Orczy the opportunity to bring him back as a returning antagonist, now with a personal grudge against his quarry and a great deal more at stake: Robespierre, having summoned him for the sake of his past experience, makes it quite clear that if he does not bring back the goods this time Chauvelin's own head will be forfeit -- "Your second failure will be punished by death, wherever you may be". (It is in fact, as it turns out, an empty threat, since Orczy proceeds to bring him back in several further novels: in "Eldorado", the next sequel, he informs Armand St. Just that "my life is granted me out of pity for my efforts, which were genuine if not successful", although this claim may well be untrue. But neither the author nor the character has any reason to anticipate mercy at this point.)
At any rate Orczy evidently decided that Chauvelin was far too good a character to waste; it is hard not to feel a certain sympathy for him (small and slight in build, highly intelligent, isolated among his colleagues, and vulnerable not to physical danger but ridicule) and while the format of the genre means that he is always doomed to lose, one feels that this tug of appeal is almost certainly intentional on the part of the author. In the opening scene with Robespierre we are given quite a new perspective on Chauvelin, being told that he had once been part of the ruling group alongside Robespierre, but that the latter had subsequently consciously attempted to sideline him as a potential threat because he was not only "keen and clever", "trusted and respected", but "possessed all those qualities of selfless patriotism" which the other, characterised as "the most ambitious, self-seeking demagogue of his time", conspicuously lacked: in other words, Chauvelin is a danger because he genuinely embodies those virtues for which Robespierre, famously dubbed 'the sea-green Incorruptible', is known in public.
In this passage the author deliberately sets up a contrast between her 'good Terrorist' (as, in those days before random slaughter of civilians, the Jacobins were dubbed), motivated by the desire to serve his country, and 'bad Terrorist', who is characterised as being driven entirely by personal ambition, and in the process she raises the stakes -- for in order for Chauvelin, busy mortgaging his future to the man who is toying with him like a cat with a mouse, to survive, the Scarlet Pimpernel must be destroyed. (And, since we can guess that this is unlikely to happen, she is thereby soliciting concern from the reader on his behalf; Chauvelin, whose courage and qualities are repeatedly lauded in the face of Robespierre's cold-blooded intimidation, is definitely being held up as an admirable figure, which is certainly an unexpected way to start a book of this genre!)
I do find it hard to visualise Robespierre, who like Napoleon was notoriously a small man (at least according to the scholarship of the era in which Orczy was writing) as towering over anybody. When he is described as very much taller than the ex-ambassador, one has to wonder just how diminutive Chauvelin is imagined to be :-p
Later in the book we are given another exercise in contrasts when Chauvelin is teamed up with Collot d'Herbois, notorious for mass executions; the Committee of Public Safety is of the opinion that while Chauvelin "has a wonderful head for devising plans, he needs a powerful hand to aid him", and thus we get Citizen Collot. Like Merlin in "I Will Repay", he is depicted as deliberately uncouth in his dress and habits, seeking to be 'prolier than thou' in adopting the appearance of the gutter, and Orczy portrays him as strongly-built but stupid, as opposed to Chauvelin, who is particular in his personal habits and relies on his cunning rather than physical strength. But she also makes a point of indicating that they are nonetheless two sides of the same coin, and that Chauvelin holds every bit as much responsibility for mass-murder as those of his colleagues who actually carried it out, the only difference being that he contrived to do so "with physically clean hands and in an immaculately-cut coat" (despite Sir Percy's frequent animadversions on the subject of the latter). Collot d'Herbois actually enjoys the anticipation of bloody reprisals for their own sake; Chauvelin is that far more objectively dangerous thing, a cold-blooded idealist who will calmly sacrifice anyone and anything if he considers it necessary to attain the desired end... which is the impression I get of the real-life Robespierre, as opposed to Orczy's more sadistic version.
In this particular case, however, as Robespierre takes care to point out in their opening interview, Chauvelin is not nearly so disinterested in his motives as he might like to appear. He is no longer acting in defence of his country or his cause, but out of raw hatred and desire for revenge on the Scarlet Pimpernel.
And that opening scene is effective also in that it introduces the name of Desirée Candeille in advance, so that when Marguerite meets the young woman at the fete in Richmond there is an instant frisson of danger in the scene. Chauvelin, however, displays a hitherto unanticipated talent at dissimulation at their initial encounter which would scarcely disgrace Sir Percy himself: we see him shrunken, greyed, and humbled enough to beg for "one thought of pity and one of pardon".
In retrospect it is not objectively clear what he hopes to achieve in terms of this ploy, which very nearly succeeds; Marguerite, whose impulse is to be kind, is on the point of consenting to forgive and forget, but being dismissed from her life "with a half-expressed promise of oblivion" would scarcely serve his subsequent purposes. But it is hard not to hear a ring of truth behind his rejoinder that "the triumphant and happy have ever very little to say to the humiliated and defeated", or the bitter terms in which he describes himself: "My failure is complete. I do not complain, for I failed in a combat of wits... but I failed... I failed... I failed... I am almost a fugitive and I am quite disgraced." Like the grey hairs, this is an all too genuine reminder of the year he has just passed, with those same words tolling in his own thought again and again and again. There is not, one suspects, all that much acting required to play the part with such conviction.
The other unexpected morsel of information that is dropped in the course of this book, entirely as an aside -- whereas in a modern novel it would doubtless feature as a major element of backstory! -- is that Chauvelin, like Lafayette or Philippe-Égalité, was apparently himself an 'aristo' who had espoused Republican ideals: "this man, who was of gentle birth, of gentle breeding... had once been called M. le Marquis de Chauvelin". When Merlin jibes at him earlier for being "too much of an aristocrat" for failing to use the new Revolutionary calendar in his letter to the Committee of Public Safety, the natural assumption in the climate of the day is that this is simply a reflexive insult, but to the surprise of this reader at least it is later confirmed, almost in passing, to be quite literally true: Citizen Chauvelin, who "firmly believed that the French aristocrat was the most bitter enemy of France... [and] would have wished to see every one of them annihilated", was in origin a renegade member of the nobility, motivated by a burning belief in social equality and scorn for the role played by the emigrés abroad.
I am intrigued to note that he is described in this book as having "a high intellectual forehead", whereas Sir Percy is consistently characterised with "a low, smooth forehead", apparently as a term of approbation. Nowadays a character with a low forehead would be assumed to be coded as a knuckle-dragging brute, but it clearly had different connotations in 1908...
Like Collot d'Herbois, however, I have to feel that Chauvelin's plans are complicated and obscure; he *must* have had some back-up idea for contriving to get Sir Percy Blakeney to France, because the concept of the duel is dependent on so many coincidences, and only succeeds because of the cooperation of the target in ignoring a direct command from the Prince of Wales. On the other hand, that line about "the origin of the Blakeney millions" is definitely inspired; after all, nobody *does* know where all that money comes from and whether it genuinely is simply an inheritance, and rumour could do a great deal of harm in suggesting that this convenient wealth has unsavoury sources. Mirabeau, for example, was dramatically dethroned -- even if only posthumously -- from his role as one-time idol of the people by the revelation that he had been profiting by payments from the enemy.
And he was certainly one step ahead in realising that the Scarlet Pimpernel would simply proceed to kidnap the hostages *as well as* Marguerite in order to save his wife, a possibility that hadn't even dawned on me until it was pre-emptively countered! It is unexpected that this masterstroke actually originates from Collot and not from Chauvelin; the latter "hailed the fiendish suggestion with delight" and perceives the full potential in it once the idea is put into his head, but apparently his mind doesn't instinctively work along these lines, whereas Collot d'Herbois (in Orczy's world, where he gets the credit for Carrier's noyades at Nantes) is currently fresh from a series of excessively ferocious large-scale executions. Is the author making a point about Chauvelin's personality: that he has absolutely no scruples about this sort of thing where useful, but has no natural inclination towards butchery, as opposed to Collot who relishes the excuse? or, as I rather suspect, merely seeking to provide some plot function for Collot d'Herbois other than as a character foil!
As mentioned above, the start of this book features a role for Juliette Marny from "I Will Repay" -- although she and Paul Déroulède are described by Marguerite as "the two young people", which jars in comparison to the former novel, in which Déroulède is a bull-necked middle-aged orator, a credible member of the National Convention who is a dozen years Marguerite's senior. Having recently read Juliette's original backstory I also found it jarring that her motivation here is supposed to be her passionate attachment to her dead mother's jewels; when we first meet Juliette as a child her relationship is entirely with her aging father while her mother appears to have died years previously, so if she has any memory of family jewels at all it can only be from a dim and distant past. She spends years agonising over the deaths of her father and brother and never once mentions her mother's existence (nor that of the Abbé Fouquet) throughout that entire novel, so it made no sense to me that this suddenly becomes a major motivation for the action of the sequel. Her role in the plot doesn't even require her to have been rescued by the Scarlet Pimpernel or to be aware of his true identity, so I feel it would have come across as less of a forced connection if Orczy had just created a completely new character for the purpose. (And in the case of Juliette, wouldn't it be Déroulède who might be expected to defend her honour -- or, more in character, attempt to defuse the situation -- rather than Sir Percy?)
After all, Orczy cheerfully creates and characterises entire groups of random 'extras' both in Richmond and in Boulogne simply as scene-setting, whether it's the stubborn Norman fisherman Jean-Marie or sententious old Clutterbuck with his penchant for citing 'the poets' to back up his pronouncements. She could equally well have inserted any other outraged penniless aristocrat like the Comtesse de Tournay in "The Scarlet Pimpernel"... although it's true that, like the Comtesse, women of that stamp might not have been prepared to be on such intimate terms with the plebian and formerly Republican Marguerite St. Just.
I note that Marguerite in this book justifies her very obviously misguided action in deciding to pursue her husband to France -- exactly as Chauvelin's scheme relies upon her to do -- with the claim that the last time she had done so, she had served to create a useful distraction! This version of the past does at least supply some rationale for her decision, although the character is evidently misremembering; to be fair, Marguerite's role in the climax of "The Scarlet Pimpernel" is largely that of providing a useful audience point-of-view through which we can witness the events in question, but her motivation is at any rate to deliver what she believes to be a vital warning, even if her presence achieves nothing save to oblige her husband to return and submit to a beating because he cannot abandon her there.
In "The Elusive Pimpernel", however, she consciously acts in a way that she knows he would forbid, and for no other reason than that she cannot bear not to know what is going on. And her claim that "she could not be a hindrance" is disastrously wrong; her presence is precisely the lever that Chauvelin needs in order to put his plans into motion. (Although I was taken aback by the idea that until Marguerite breaks down in his presence and betrays "a tale of love and passion which he had not even suspected before" he had no idea that there was any particular bond between Blakeney and his wife, since his whole scheme had pivoted on using her as bait. I suppose the Scarlet Pimpernel could not very well be seen to abandon his wife knowingly to the mercies of his enemies even if there was no more than social convention between them!)
But however reprehensible Marguerite's behaviour -- given that far from being of assistance she represents her husband's weak point, and therefore needs for his sake to stay as far away from the action as possible -- it is to Orczy's credit that we nonetheless end up desperately anxious as to what will become of her. Chauvelin, who "always knew how to deal with vehemence", achieves one victory at least over both of them alike; he manages to break Sir Percy's self-control and sting him into precipitate action, and the fact that the action in question is an attempt to strangle him to death is genuinely immaterial. Any surrender to provocation is an admission of weakness, and both adversaries are aware of it.
Which is why Sir Percy spends so much of his time being flamboyantly and annoyingly obtuse, a tactic which is unfortunately as grating on the reader as it is on the opposition. I suspect we all live for those moments when the Scarlet Pimpernel drops the mask and reveals himself as the quick-thinking, charismatic leader or as the impassioned lover, but Orczy only allows us one or two of those per book; she is having far too much fun writing Sir Percy using his act to wind everyone else up. In "The Elusive Pimpernel" we get a couple of heartfelt interchanges with Marguerite, but even there he has a tendency to withdraw into flippancy in sheer self-defence.
Another thing that becomes obvious, but only once one has had it been pointed out, is that for the sake of the story Orczy cannot show us her hero's own point of view; like Dr Watson, we must always be left looking on admiringly from outside without being made privy to his plans or observations, which would destroy all the suspense! (In this light it is interesting to consider the one chapter in "I Will Repay" which actually does take place from Blakeney's perspective, since at that point *he* is the side character observing the protagonists...)
I wonder if this is the only book in which Sir Percy does not in fact use any form of disguise, but appears in his own person throughout? His principal tactic is simply to make up his mind as quickly as possible and then relax in order to be ready for eventual action, while exhausting his opponent by keeping him in a state of acute and ongoing nervous tension; it is a lesson that Chauvelin takes all too acutely to heart and proceeds to turn against him in the next book, "Eldorado".
In this book we get to see for the first time the after-effects of the events of "The Scarlet Pimpernel" upon Marguerite Blakeney's marriage, and their public life in England now that she knows the truth about her husband. The secret is still closely guarded, but while his ostensible attitude towards her has not changed ("No one could assert that Sir Percy was anything but politely indifferent to his wife's obvious attentions"), she has made no attempt to conceal her new happiness, or the fact that, "contrary to all usages and customs of London society", she is clearly passionately in love with her own husband. The fashionable world is bemused, but suspects nothing; Marguerite continues to make fun of his supposed dull wits, and he to play his role precisely as before. Only, of course, she now has to live with the knowledge that during those absences from home during which the world presumes him to be neglecting her -- "fishing in Scotland or shooting in Yorkshire" -- he is instead risking his neck in France for the sake of complete strangers, and, ultimately, however much he may love her, for the pure thrill of the adventure.
We also get to find out what happened to Chauvelin as a result of his humiliating failure at the hands of the Pimpernel a year earlier. From the complete absence of his name from among the various influential members of the Republican establishment who feature in "I Will Repay", and the executions there for generals who failed to win battles or accusers who failed to secure convictions, one might perhaps have assumed that he had duly paid with his life for his blunder.
But at the start of "The Elusive Pimpernel" we are told that Chauvelin had simply "been left to moulder in obscurity" after his downfall, which gives Orczy the opportunity to bring him back as a returning antagonist, now with a personal grudge against his quarry and a great deal more at stake: Robespierre, having summoned him for the sake of his past experience, makes it quite clear that if he does not bring back the goods this time Chauvelin's own head will be forfeit -- "Your second failure will be punished by death, wherever you may be". (It is in fact, as it turns out, an empty threat, since Orczy proceeds to bring him back in several further novels: in "Eldorado", the next sequel, he informs Armand St. Just that "my life is granted me out of pity for my efforts, which were genuine if not successful", although this claim may well be untrue. But neither the author nor the character has any reason to anticipate mercy at this point.)
At any rate Orczy evidently decided that Chauvelin was far too good a character to waste; it is hard not to feel a certain sympathy for him (small and slight in build, highly intelligent, isolated among his colleagues, and vulnerable not to physical danger but ridicule) and while the format of the genre means that he is always doomed to lose, one feels that this tug of appeal is almost certainly intentional on the part of the author. In the opening scene with Robespierre we are given quite a new perspective on Chauvelin, being told that he had once been part of the ruling group alongside Robespierre, but that the latter had subsequently consciously attempted to sideline him as a potential threat because he was not only "keen and clever", "trusted and respected", but "possessed all those qualities of selfless patriotism" which the other, characterised as "the most ambitious, self-seeking demagogue of his time", conspicuously lacked: in other words, Chauvelin is a danger because he genuinely embodies those virtues for which Robespierre, famously dubbed 'the sea-green Incorruptible', is known in public.
In this passage the author deliberately sets up a contrast between her 'good Terrorist' (as, in those days before random slaughter of civilians, the Jacobins were dubbed), motivated by the desire to serve his country, and 'bad Terrorist', who is characterised as being driven entirely by personal ambition, and in the process she raises the stakes -- for in order for Chauvelin, busy mortgaging his future to the man who is toying with him like a cat with a mouse, to survive, the Scarlet Pimpernel must be destroyed. (And, since we can guess that this is unlikely to happen, she is thereby soliciting concern from the reader on his behalf; Chauvelin, whose courage and qualities are repeatedly lauded in the face of Robespierre's cold-blooded intimidation, is definitely being held up as an admirable figure, which is certainly an unexpected way to start a book of this genre!)
I do find it hard to visualise Robespierre, who like Napoleon was notoriously a small man (at least according to the scholarship of the era in which Orczy was writing) as towering over anybody. When he is described as very much taller than the ex-ambassador, one has to wonder just how diminutive Chauvelin is imagined to be :-p
Later in the book we are given another exercise in contrasts when Chauvelin is teamed up with Collot d'Herbois, notorious for mass executions; the Committee of Public Safety is of the opinion that while Chauvelin "has a wonderful head for devising plans, he needs a powerful hand to aid him", and thus we get Citizen Collot. Like Merlin in "I Will Repay", he is depicted as deliberately uncouth in his dress and habits, seeking to be 'prolier than thou' in adopting the appearance of the gutter, and Orczy portrays him as strongly-built but stupid, as opposed to Chauvelin, who is particular in his personal habits and relies on his cunning rather than physical strength. But she also makes a point of indicating that they are nonetheless two sides of the same coin, and that Chauvelin holds every bit as much responsibility for mass-murder as those of his colleagues who actually carried it out, the only difference being that he contrived to do so "with physically clean hands and in an immaculately-cut coat" (despite Sir Percy's frequent animadversions on the subject of the latter). Collot d'Herbois actually enjoys the anticipation of bloody reprisals for their own sake; Chauvelin is that far more objectively dangerous thing, a cold-blooded idealist who will calmly sacrifice anyone and anything if he considers it necessary to attain the desired end... which is the impression I get of the real-life Robespierre, as opposed to Orczy's more sadistic version.
In this particular case, however, as Robespierre takes care to point out in their opening interview, Chauvelin is not nearly so disinterested in his motives as he might like to appear. He is no longer acting in defence of his country or his cause, but out of raw hatred and desire for revenge on the Scarlet Pimpernel.
And that opening scene is effective also in that it introduces the name of Desirée Candeille in advance, so that when Marguerite meets the young woman at the fete in Richmond there is an instant frisson of danger in the scene. Chauvelin, however, displays a hitherto unanticipated talent at dissimulation at their initial encounter which would scarcely disgrace Sir Percy himself: we see him shrunken, greyed, and humbled enough to beg for "one thought of pity and one of pardon".
In retrospect it is not objectively clear what he hopes to achieve in terms of this ploy, which very nearly succeeds; Marguerite, whose impulse is to be kind, is on the point of consenting to forgive and forget, but being dismissed from her life "with a half-expressed promise of oblivion" would scarcely serve his subsequent purposes. But it is hard not to hear a ring of truth behind his rejoinder that "the triumphant and happy have ever very little to say to the humiliated and defeated", or the bitter terms in which he describes himself: "My failure is complete. I do not complain, for I failed in a combat of wits... but I failed... I failed... I failed... I am almost a fugitive and I am quite disgraced." Like the grey hairs, this is an all too genuine reminder of the year he has just passed, with those same words tolling in his own thought again and again and again. There is not, one suspects, all that much acting required to play the part with such conviction.
The other unexpected morsel of information that is dropped in the course of this book, entirely as an aside -- whereas in a modern novel it would doubtless feature as a major element of backstory! -- is that Chauvelin, like Lafayette or Philippe-Égalité, was apparently himself an 'aristo' who had espoused Republican ideals: "this man, who was of gentle birth, of gentle breeding... had once been called M. le Marquis de Chauvelin". When Merlin jibes at him earlier for being "too much of an aristocrat" for failing to use the new Revolutionary calendar in his letter to the Committee of Public Safety, the natural assumption in the climate of the day is that this is simply a reflexive insult, but to the surprise of this reader at least it is later confirmed, almost in passing, to be quite literally true: Citizen Chauvelin, who "firmly believed that the French aristocrat was the most bitter enemy of France... [and] would have wished to see every one of them annihilated", was in origin a renegade member of the nobility, motivated by a burning belief in social equality and scorn for the role played by the emigrés abroad.
I am intrigued to note that he is described in this book as having "a high intellectual forehead", whereas Sir Percy is consistently characterised with "a low, smooth forehead", apparently as a term of approbation. Nowadays a character with a low forehead would be assumed to be coded as a knuckle-dragging brute, but it clearly had different connotations in 1908...
Like Collot d'Herbois, however, I have to feel that Chauvelin's plans are complicated and obscure; he *must* have had some back-up idea for contriving to get Sir Percy Blakeney to France, because the concept of the duel is dependent on so many coincidences, and only succeeds because of the cooperation of the target in ignoring a direct command from the Prince of Wales. On the other hand, that line about "the origin of the Blakeney millions" is definitely inspired; after all, nobody *does* know where all that money comes from and whether it genuinely is simply an inheritance, and rumour could do a great deal of harm in suggesting that this convenient wealth has unsavoury sources. Mirabeau, for example, was dramatically dethroned -- even if only posthumously -- from his role as one-time idol of the people by the revelation that he had been profiting by payments from the enemy.
And he was certainly one step ahead in realising that the Scarlet Pimpernel would simply proceed to kidnap the hostages *as well as* Marguerite in order to save his wife, a possibility that hadn't even dawned on me until it was pre-emptively countered! It is unexpected that this masterstroke actually originates from Collot and not from Chauvelin; the latter "hailed the fiendish suggestion with delight" and perceives the full potential in it once the idea is put into his head, but apparently his mind doesn't instinctively work along these lines, whereas Collot d'Herbois (in Orczy's world, where he gets the credit for Carrier's noyades at Nantes) is currently fresh from a series of excessively ferocious large-scale executions. Is the author making a point about Chauvelin's personality: that he has absolutely no scruples about this sort of thing where useful, but has no natural inclination towards butchery, as opposed to Collot who relishes the excuse? or, as I rather suspect, merely seeking to provide some plot function for Collot d'Herbois other than as a character foil!
As mentioned above, the start of this book features a role for Juliette Marny from "I Will Repay" -- although she and Paul Déroulède are described by Marguerite as "the two young people", which jars in comparison to the former novel, in which Déroulède is a bull-necked middle-aged orator, a credible member of the National Convention who is a dozen years Marguerite's senior. Having recently read Juliette's original backstory I also found it jarring that her motivation here is supposed to be her passionate attachment to her dead mother's jewels; when we first meet Juliette as a child her relationship is entirely with her aging father while her mother appears to have died years previously, so if she has any memory of family jewels at all it can only be from a dim and distant past. She spends years agonising over the deaths of her father and brother and never once mentions her mother's existence (nor that of the Abbé Fouquet) throughout that entire novel, so it made no sense to me that this suddenly becomes a major motivation for the action of the sequel. Her role in the plot doesn't even require her to have been rescued by the Scarlet Pimpernel or to be aware of his true identity, so I feel it would have come across as less of a forced connection if Orczy had just created a completely new character for the purpose. (And in the case of Juliette, wouldn't it be Déroulède who might be expected to defend her honour -- or, more in character, attempt to defuse the situation -- rather than Sir Percy?)
After all, Orczy cheerfully creates and characterises entire groups of random 'extras' both in Richmond and in Boulogne simply as scene-setting, whether it's the stubborn Norman fisherman Jean-Marie or sententious old Clutterbuck with his penchant for citing 'the poets' to back up his pronouncements. She could equally well have inserted any other outraged penniless aristocrat like the Comtesse de Tournay in "The Scarlet Pimpernel"... although it's true that, like the Comtesse, women of that stamp might not have been prepared to be on such intimate terms with the plebian and formerly Republican Marguerite St. Just.
I note that Marguerite in this book justifies her very obviously misguided action in deciding to pursue her husband to France -- exactly as Chauvelin's scheme relies upon her to do -- with the claim that the last time she had done so, she had served to create a useful distraction! This version of the past does at least supply some rationale for her decision, although the character is evidently misremembering; to be fair, Marguerite's role in the climax of "The Scarlet Pimpernel" is largely that of providing a useful audience point-of-view through which we can witness the events in question, but her motivation is at any rate to deliver what she believes to be a vital warning, even if her presence achieves nothing save to oblige her husband to return and submit to a beating because he cannot abandon her there.
In "The Elusive Pimpernel", however, she consciously acts in a way that she knows he would forbid, and for no other reason than that she cannot bear not to know what is going on. And her claim that "she could not be a hindrance" is disastrously wrong; her presence is precisely the lever that Chauvelin needs in order to put his plans into motion. (Although I was taken aback by the idea that until Marguerite breaks down in his presence and betrays "a tale of love and passion which he had not even suspected before" he had no idea that there was any particular bond between Blakeney and his wife, since his whole scheme had pivoted on using her as bait. I suppose the Scarlet Pimpernel could not very well be seen to abandon his wife knowingly to the mercies of his enemies even if there was no more than social convention between them!)
But however reprehensible Marguerite's behaviour -- given that far from being of assistance she represents her husband's weak point, and therefore needs for his sake to stay as far away from the action as possible -- it is to Orczy's credit that we nonetheless end up desperately anxious as to what will become of her. Chauvelin, who "always knew how to deal with vehemence", achieves one victory at least over both of them alike; he manages to break Sir Percy's self-control and sting him into precipitate action, and the fact that the action in question is an attempt to strangle him to death is genuinely immaterial. Any surrender to provocation is an admission of weakness, and both adversaries are aware of it.
Which is why Sir Percy spends so much of his time being flamboyantly and annoyingly obtuse, a tactic which is unfortunately as grating on the reader as it is on the opposition. I suspect we all live for those moments when the Scarlet Pimpernel drops the mask and reveals himself as the quick-thinking, charismatic leader or as the impassioned lover, but Orczy only allows us one or two of those per book; she is having far too much fun writing Sir Percy using his act to wind everyone else up. In "The Elusive Pimpernel" we get a couple of heartfelt interchanges with Marguerite, but even there he has a tendency to withdraw into flippancy in sheer self-defence.
Another thing that becomes obvious, but only once one has had it been pointed out, is that for the sake of the story Orczy cannot show us her hero's own point of view; like Dr Watson, we must always be left looking on admiringly from outside without being made privy to his plans or observations, which would destroy all the suspense! (In this light it is interesting to consider the one chapter in "I Will Repay" which actually does take place from Blakeney's perspective, since at that point *he* is the side character observing the protagonists...)
I wonder if this is the only book in which Sir Percy does not in fact use any form of disguise, but appears in his own person throughout? His principal tactic is simply to make up his mind as quickly as possible and then relax in order to be ready for eventual action, while exhausting his opponent by keeping him in a state of acute and ongoing nervous tension; it is a lesson that Chauvelin takes all too acutely to heart and proceeds to turn against him in the next book, "Eldorado".
February 25, 2013
This is the first Scarlet Pimpernel book I have read and not adored. The first three quarters of the book were spent mostly on set up and relied heavily on long passages of exposition. However, the last quarter came through with classic Scarlet Pimpernel style. Sir Percy is backed into a tough corner and, for the first time, I questioned his ability to get out of it. If you are a Scarlet Pimpernel fan and are willing to sift some pebbles to find the gold nuggets, you will probably enjoy this book despite the slow start. If you are not a Scarlet Pimpernel fan, I would recommend reading The Scarlet Pimpernel first to find out if you are.
August 29, 2013
This is the weakest of the Pimpernel books I've read, but it's still enjoyable. The villain spends so much time talking in monologues, that very little happens after the first third of the book. He goes on forever, far more than was needed. It really got old. Then, all of a sudden, the big escape happened in the blink of an eye and the book was over. This entry in the series isn't paced nearly as well as the other 2 Pimpernel books I've read, and it feels lazy and uninspired in comparison. That said, it's still an enjoyable book in its own right. Just don't read this one if it's your first time reading a Baroness Orczy novel.
March 20, 2008
The book "I Will Repay" is important to read first, because it sets up the plot and scene for "The Elusive Pimpernel." The book keeps me guessing whether or not Sir Percy & Marguerite will fall into a trap set by their enemy. I can picture myself there, and I wonder what I would do in the same situation. How will the Scarlet Pimpernel save the lives of innocent people and get his band out alive? You will have to read it to find out.
I enjoy all the Scarlet Pimpernel books. I find it easier to read them in order, which is hard, because the books are difficult to find.
I enjoy all the Scarlet Pimpernel books. I find it easier to read them in order, which is hard, because the books are difficult to find.
December 24, 2016
The story was not nearly as interesting as the original book. Even the sequel to this one is better (Eldorado). No swashbuckling! Seriously? This is the Scarlet Pimpernel after all.
In spite of the less-than-fascinating storyline, I enjoyed the exceptional writing. It's amazing that Orczy had such a terrific grasp of English since it was not her first language. The theme of self-sacrifice for the good of others is also a boon to this book.
I plan to read all 11 titles in the Pimpernel anthology, but this, so far, has been my least favorite.
In spite of the less-than-fascinating storyline, I enjoyed the exceptional writing. It's amazing that Orczy had such a terrific grasp of English since it was not her first language. The theme of self-sacrifice for the good of others is also a boon to this book.
I plan to read all 11 titles in the Pimpernel anthology, but this, so far, has been my least favorite.
April 13, 2010
This book continues the story of the Scarlet Pimpernel (Sir Percy) and his wife Marguerite. Led into a trap, they are to choose between their freedom and the lives of many innocent people. Although the story wasn't as captivating as the original, and dragged a little at times, I really enjoyed it. It was exciting and fun, and had just enough of the wonderful romance between Percy and his wife to make it great.
October 25, 2021
Okay, so I feel like I Will Repay and Sir Percy Leads the Band are not the best examples of how this series is. I was not a fan of those two books, and so I gave up on the series for a while. But this book. I loved it!
We finally got back to Marguerite and Percy! I've missed their dynamic so much! And Chauvelin. Well played, monsieur, but not quite perfect! You should've known you couldn't win!
We finally got back to Marguerite and Percy! I've missed their dynamic so much! And Chauvelin. Well played, monsieur, but not quite perfect! You should've known you couldn't win!
November 30, 2019
Orczy's writings are amazing...this is the third book of hers I've read about the Scarlet Pimpernel, and love all of them! Like a brilliant Sherlock Holmes set in the midst of the bloody French Revolution. Amazing and ingenuitive.
Update on reading again:
It gets better every time. :) Really, really well done historical fiction + suspense, like no other. Vive la Baroness Orczy's writings!
Update on reading again:
It gets better every time. :) Really, really well done historical fiction + suspense, like no other. Vive la Baroness Orczy's writings!
July 25, 2021
It’s been a long time since I finished a book laughing and saying, “YEEEESSSSS!!!!!” What a triumphant, suspense-filled adventure! This book has vengeance, secret plans, a dashing hero, a dastardly villain, and a blazing romance. I LOVED this book.
June 12, 2023
Another enjoyable read, thanks to chivalrous, supposed fop Sir Percy again matching wits against the previously humiliated French spy-catcher Chauvelin ! I had several moments of INTENSE irritation with the Percy's wife, the lovely Lady Marguerite Blakeney, because - did you not just screw over your husband in book 1 impetuously acting before thinking and generally being (there is no other word for it) stupid? However she does heroically accept her fault in her capture and is willing to sacrifice her life for others less fortunate.
Several highlights of the novel are Percy (finally! if only briefly) losing his cool when Chauvelin threatens Marguerite, how much Marguerite loves her husband, and how how clever the trap Chauvelin sets for our hero. I was desperately interested in how the Blakeneys were going to get out of Chavelin's trap, and my initial guess was completely wrong.
So I'll read another and give this 4 stars - but if Lady Blakeney is still an idiot in the next novel I'm going to be annoyed beyond baring.
Several highlights of the novel are Percy (finally! if only briefly) losing his cool when Chauvelin threatens Marguerite, how much Marguerite loves her husband, and how how clever the trap Chauvelin sets for our hero. I was desperately interested in how the Blakeneys were going to get out of Chavelin's trap, and my initial guess was completely wrong.
So I'll read another and give this 4 stars - but if Lady Blakeney is still an idiot in the next novel I'm going to be annoyed beyond baring.
March 28, 2019
Oh how I love Percy Blakeney! 😍
This book was such a fun read. It was as exciting as the first Scarlet Pimpernel book but now Marguerite knows her husband’s secret.
Not gonna lie, sometimes the descriptions of the love between Percy and Marguerite were very dramatic and said all the time and it would get a bit annoying. I’m happy that they love each other and all but do we have to say how Marguerite’s love for her husband is true and passionate every time she sees him?
Also, I am amazed how people can just look at each other in this book and know exactly what to do and what the other person is feeling. I would like that super power.
This book was such a fun read. It was as exciting as the first Scarlet Pimpernel book but now Marguerite knows her husband’s secret.
Not gonna lie, sometimes the descriptions of the love between Percy and Marguerite were very dramatic and said all the time and it would get a bit annoying. I’m happy that they love each other and all but do we have to say how Marguerite’s love for her husband is true and passionate every time she sees him?
Also, I am amazed how people can just look at each other in this book and know exactly what to do and what the other person is feeling. I would like that super power.
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