Was "The Three Musketeers" a Faustian Pact?

Did Alexandre Dumas made a Faustian bargain? Arturo Pérez-Reverte, Spanish novelist and journalist, didn't give a direct answer in "The Club Dumas" (1993), which was about the French author, "The Three Musketeers" (1844), and much more. He took the readers for the ride instead, arousing curiosity and intrigue. It was no different from the book itself. Art imitating art?

English playwright Watts Phillips described Dumas as egotistical. Born in Villers-Cotterêts on July 24, 1802, his published works totaled 100,000 pages, as he believed that being prolific would make him remember. He was partly right. "The Three Musketeers" wasn't as long as Victor Hugo's "Les Misérables" (1862), but it had all the elements that made it a good read. Action, comedy, romance, tragedy. The fact that there was an adaptation of the book in television, play, or movie every decade (since 1900) is a testament to its enduring appeal. In short, it was a high adventure that anyone couldn't passed up. So what this had to do with Faust?

"The Club Dumas" was mostly set in libraries in Western Europe, where one less likely find excitement. Unless you're a fan of Dumas. The story revolves around antiquated books, its first printed copy fetching millions. This made bibliophiles obsessed and greedy, but they were reluctant to do the dirty job when needed. So they hired Lucas Corso. He was a mercenary book dealer, a huge fan of "The Three Musketeers" whose cynicism masked a broken heart. He was employed by Boris Balkan, a wealthy collector of hard-to-find books, to find the missing chapter in the "The Three Musketeers", "The Anjou Wine". This led him to Varo Borja, another well-to-do bibliophile, who contracted him to verify his copy of "The Book of the Nine Doors" (1666). Aristide Torchia was said to write it to summon the devil. Was he playing a game?

Yes.

Pérez-Reverte's characters were book lovers fascinated by Dumas's creative genius. But they have that Faustian urge. Corso would keep on insisting that he was being serious about his job, but he couldn't help being curious. In fact, he met a young woman who assisted him in his investigation. She went by the name of Irene Adler. What was even more surprising was her revelation (in a later chapter) that she was a fallen angel, which Corso believed right away. Was Corso looking for someone? He would be too proud to admit it, but the signs were obvious. What about Club Dumas? It was silly to associate Alexandre Dumas with demonology, but it made sense in the novel. It wasn't uncommon for writers to yearn for recognition, even more than they wished for. In Dumas's case, his ego wanted much more. All for one and one for all.

Readers won't find Artos, Porthos, Aramis, and d'Artagnan in the book. They would see a part of them in the characters, Corso in particular. This was what Pérez-Reverte had envisioned of the swashbuckling swordsmen.