Prologue
IF I COULD cavort across the frets of imagination and, in tempo, strum the chords of wit and wisdom, I might be able to originate a novel akin to Gil Blas by Alain-René Lesage, written over a 20-year period from 1715 to 1735. Not happening. Not likely to happen. What I can do is parody that tale for the modern young adult who, otherwise, might find the rambling passive sentences and the detailed verbiage intimidating. Monsieur Lesage, if aware of this project, would probably say: Sic vos non vobis. (Oh… go ahead. Google it!)
In the original volume, our young adventurer hears many tales from those he encounters. These back stories are reduced from chapters to paragraphs to limit the size of that 320,000-word epic.
In order that my relentless slash-and-edit manuscript won’t be mistaken for a fresh translation of the original Gil Blas, the star of the story is renamed. The blundering young fortune-seeker, Miguel Santos, becomes the alter ego of the original hero. Hopefully, he will provide as much literary amusement as his exemplar.
