The Three Musketeers: Similes 7 key examples

Porthos compares servants to women because, according to his logic, both need to be "taught to behave as you want them to." The solution d'Artagnan comes to is beating Planchet as "advance payment" until he comes into real money again. Dumas seems to intend this exchange as a comical moment, but it also demonstrates the cruelty d'Artagnan is learning to embrace as a means to power among the musketeers. Instead of accepting that Planchet will only be able to work for him when d'Artagnan can give him wages, d'Artagnan insists that he must find a way to subject Planchet to his will permanently. It is not just domestic work Planchet provides for d'Artagnan; clearly, he also gives him a sense of superiority and upward mobility by remaining permanently "beneath" the young Gascon.

Porthos frames the power that servants offer to their bosses in terms of the power women offer to men. In this framework, women are objects to be controlled so that they don't run amok and "misbehave." Unfortunately, this has been a widely-held viewpoint for much of history, so it serves as a clarifying frame of reference for what Porthos is trying to say about the importance of controlling servants' behavior. But the main antagonist of the novel will turn out to be Milady, a woman who both Athos and d'Artagnan fail to "control." Porthos's advice thus proves important not only in d'Artagnan's relationship with Planchet, but also in the overall plot (as misogynistic as it is).

Archimedes's law of the lever is the notion that a lever can be balanced with different weights on each side if those weights are placed nearer or farther from the fulcrum, or center of gravity. For example, on a see-saw (a kind of lever), a lighter-weight child and a heavier child can balance one another if the heavier child sits closer to the center. Even though there is less weight on one side, sitting at the end of the see-saw gives the smaller child more leverage. Leverage and weight combine, producing enough cumulative force on that side of the lever to keep it balanced. Archimedes did not discover levers, but he was the first person we know of to describe this effect. He famously claimed that if he had enough space for leverage, he could move the entire world with his foot.

D'Artagnan compares the "fourfold force" of the musketeers to Archimedes's lever. They have currently been brought low by a lack of funds, but he feels confident that if they found the right use for their combined power, they too could "lift the world." As if in answer to his wishes, Monsieur Bonacieux knocks on his door and asks for help tracking down his wife, who has been kidnapped. This plea leads to some challenges for d'Artagnan and his friends, but ultimately it does launch them into their next adventure and its rewards.

Scottish people are known for their national pride, in part because the unique cultural region of Scotland was colonized and absorbed by England in the centuries leading up to Dumas's day. The long-running conflicts over Scotland's national standing are the subject of Walter Scott's Waverley novels, some of the most famous historical novels that Dumas used as a model for this book. Scotland and England were unified in 1707, about 80 years after d'Artagnan's conversation with the Duke of Buckingham. At that point, Scotland lost its independent government, but there was still a sense of national culture (as there still is today). Scott's novels aimed to capture a sense of this national culture, even though Scott supported the union between England and Scotland. In the 19th century, following the publication of the Waverley novels, Scotsmen had an international reputation for their persistent national pride.

By emphasizing that he is not like a Scotsman but rather one of the "Scotsmen of France," d'Artagnan draws a parallel for Dumas's readers between the way Scotland is represented in Walter Scott's novels and the way Dumas is representing Gascony in this book. Gascony was still an independent province when the events of the novel take place, but by the time Dumas was writing, it had been absorbed more completely into France. First it was combined with the province of Guyenne, and then, at the time of the French Revolution, the government of Guyenne and Gascony was dissolved. D'Artagnan, a proud Gascon, represents a cultural identity that Dumas was eager to preserve at a time when Gascony no longer had the independence it once did. Regardless of some of his shortcomings, d'Artagnan is innately honorable and charming in his naivety. Dumas emphasizes his Gascon identity and suggests that he represents an old-fashioned kind of person who is harder to come by in the modern world.

Athos and Grimaud have drunk a huge amount of wine from the cellar. They have smashed empty wine barrels and piled them up with planks, beams, and firewood to make a great barricade in front of the door. They have eaten hams and sausages the innkeeper has preserved in the cellar, and they have left a mess of olive oil, wine, ham bones, and broken bottles all over the floor. Dumas compares the scene to "the image of devastation and death" that some "ancient poet" used to describe a battlefield. The ancient poet in question is likely Homer, the attributed author of the epic poem The Iliad, which tells the story of the Trojan War. The comparison emphasizes the extreme damage Athos and Grimaud have wrought on the innkeeper's property. At the same time, no lives have been lost. To describe a mess of food and drink in the same way as a bloody battlefield is to make light of that very "image of devastation and death."

While Dumas is joking about the Iliad and epic poetry like it, the parody in this instance serves mainly to inject humor into the scene within the novel. The innkeeper sees a bloody battlefield because Athos and Grimaud have surely cost him a massive amount of profit by destroying the stores in his basement. D'Artagnan, on the other hand, sees a funny scene of comeuppance for the innkeeper's betrayal when he and Athos passed through the inn chapters earlier. Athos and Grimaud may have been stuck in a cellar, but it looks as though they thoroughly enjoyed themselves and got revenge on the innkeeper. The "blood" running across the floor is only wine, and the innkeeper's horror only makes the revenge all the more satisfying.

Porthos has wheedled himself a dinner invitation in the hopes of getting Madame Coquenard to let him into the legendary and mysterious trunk that supposedly contains her husband's fortune. He is also looking forward to a home-cooked feast. As he sits through dinner, which Monsieur Coquenard seems genuinely to enjoy, it becomes clear that he might have been trying too hard to make it to the Coquenards' dinner table. The food is, to put it bluntly, terrible. When the soup comes out, it has no meat, vegetables, or even hearty broth to speak of. All that appears to be in it are measly crusts of bread that float in the watery liquid "like the widely scattered islands of an archipelago." A single bowl hardly has room for many "widely scattered" crusts of bread, so there can't even be much in the way of bread in the soup. It is easy to imagine what crusts there are growing more soggy by the moment.

The simile conjures the idea of exploring the globe in search of riches, a popular form of speculation in the 17th century. Exploring was a high-risk, high-reward activity. European explorers might happen upon gold mines, but many of them found land that didn't immediately yield much. Porthos has come to the Coquenards' house on an exploratory mission, with high hopes of finding enormous riches. Ironically, what he has found instead is a painfully awkward dinner party with bad food.

Here, as in many other instances, Dumas compares Milady to a large cat ready to turn lethal at any moment. The fact that she is "wounded" by d'Artagnan's discovery makes her all the more dangerous. If Milady didn't have anything to hide, she would not be nearly so motivated to hunt down d'Artagnan, Athos, and their friends. But because Milady is vulnerable to them, she becomes obsessed with striking back.

In addition to large cats, Dumas repeatedly compares Milady to a snake. Like cats, snakes have the power to kill with their bite. The fact that they can be venomous makes them a fitting comparison for her given her preferred murder weapon: poison. Additionally, the biblical significance of snakes allows Dumas to emphasize Milady's innate corruption. In Genesis, a serpent tempts Eve into eating the fruit God has forbidden her and Adam to eat. According to many versions of the story, giving into the snake's temptation is what ultimately leads to humans' expulsion from the Garden of Eden and their first experience of mortality. Comparing Milady to a snake underscores her status as a dangerous temptress who is always trying to lead unsuspecting characters (especially men) to their ruin.

While the animals Dumas chooses to compare Milady to have their own symbolic meanings, the overall effect of the motif is to dehumanize her. For example, in Chapter 45, Dumas uses a simile comparing Milady to a corpse:

Pale as a corpse, Milady tried to cry out, but her tongue was frozen, and she was able to make only a hoarse sound that bore no resemblance to human speech. Pressing her back against the dark tapestry on the wall, with her hair disheveled, she was a living image of terror.

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The "living image of terror," Milady neither looks nor sounds like a living human in this moment. She pales and gets tongue-tied because Athos has pulled a gun on her. Instead of emphasizing her very reasonable fear, Dumas instead describes how she turns into something like a reanimated corpse, an image that inspires fear in onlookers. By regularly comparing Milady to non-human, threatening creatures, Dumas discourages the reader from sympathizing with her. Her two-dimensional villainy makes her an easy antagonist to hate, which helps propel the swashbuckling action forward to its triumphant conclusion.

Here, as in many other instances, Dumas compares Milady to a large cat ready to turn lethal at any moment. The fact that she is "wounded" by d'Artagnan's discovery makes her all the more dangerous. If Milady didn't have anything to hide, she would not be nearly so motivated to hunt down d'Artagnan, Athos, and their friends. But because Milady is vulnerable to them, she becomes obsessed with striking back.

In addition to large cats, Dumas repeatedly compares Milady to a snake. Like cats, snakes have the power to kill with their bite. The fact that they can be venomous makes them a fitting comparison for her given her preferred murder weapon: poison. Additionally, the biblical significance of snakes allows Dumas to emphasize Milady's innate corruption. In Genesis, a serpent tempts Eve into eating the fruit God has forbidden her and Adam to eat. According to many versions of the story, giving into the snake's temptation is what ultimately leads to humans' expulsion from the Garden of Eden and their first experience of mortality. Comparing Milady to a snake underscores her status as a dangerous temptress who is always trying to lead unsuspecting characters (especially men) to their ruin.

While the animals Dumas chooses to compare Milady to have their own symbolic meanings, the overall effect of the motif is to dehumanize her. For example, in Chapter 45, Dumas uses a simile comparing Milady to a corpse:

Pale as a corpse, Milady tried to cry out, but her tongue was frozen, and she was able to make only a hoarse sound that bore no resemblance to human speech. Pressing her back against the dark tapestry on the wall, with her hair disheveled, she was a living image of terror.

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The "living image of terror," Milady neither looks nor sounds like a living human in this moment. She pales and gets tongue-tied because Athos has pulled a gun on her. Instead of emphasizing her very reasonable fear, Dumas instead describes how she turns into something like a reanimated corpse, an image that inspires fear in onlookers. By regularly comparing Milady to non-human, threatening creatures, Dumas discourages the reader from sympathizing with her. Her two-dimensional villainy makes her an easy antagonist to hate, which helps propel the swashbuckling action forward to its triumphant conclusion.

Right after he was stabbed, the duke received a letter from Queen Anne warning him that he was in danger as a result of their affair, over the course of which they have made some very dangerous people angry. It is ironic enough that he receives the warning a moment too late. To make matters worse, the queen warned him before the incident with the diamond tags that they should stop seeing one another. The duke's convincing the queen to continue their relationship and to give him the diamond tags as a token of her love is what has led to Milady and the cardinal's desire for revenge. The duke spends the last seconds of his life trying to find something significant to leave behind for the queen, whom he still loves. The only thing he can find is the bloody knife, which is a horrifying but ironically honest memento of their relationship.

When Buckingham tries and fails to smile, his final thought gets frozen on his face "like a last kiss of love." It is not precisely clear what this thought is, but it has something to do with Queen Anne and the bloody knife. The duke seems to have finally realized that their affair was doomed from the start. And yet he still can't let go of it. The simile comparing his frozen expression to "a last kiss of love" suggests that at the moment of death, the greatest tragedy and the greatest love of his life are all tied up in one another. His stabbing is awful, but it also reinforces his love for the queen by turning their relationship into the overarching story of his life.