Molière's L'Avare is a classic French comedy from 1668 that hasn't lost its bite. It's a fast-paced, chaotic story about one man's obsession and the chaos it unleashes on everyone around him.

The Story

Harpagon is a wealthy old miser. His two adult children, Cléante and Élise, are miserable. Cléante is in love with Mariane, a kind young woman with no fortune. Élise is in love with Valère, a man posing as a servant to be near her. Harpagon, blind to their feelings, has his own plans. He arranges for Élise to marry a wealthy old man, Anselme, and announces he himself will marry Mariane. To top it off, he's also the anonymous, loan-sharking moneylender that his own son, Cléante, has been begging for a loan. The whole situation is a powder keg of secret identities and conflicting desires. It explodes when Harpagon's beloved cash box of gold is stolen. His frantic, over-the-top reaction—accusing everyone, including the audience—is legendary. The truth comes out in a final, crowded scene where identities are revealed, lovers are united, and Harpagon is left with the only thing he ever truly wanted: his money.

Why You Should Read It

First, it's genuinely funny. Harpagon is a spectacularly awful character. His rants about money are absurd and his selfishness is so extreme it loops back to being hilarious. You get the sense Molière is holding up a funhouse mirror to greed, and we're all invited to laugh at the reflection. Beyond the laughs, it's shockingly relatable. Who hasn't known someone who prioritizes possessions over people? The play captures the real pain and frustration his children feel, trapped by their father's obsession. It's a story about how love—romantic and familial—withers when money becomes the only currency that matters. Reading it feels like getting a masterclass in comedy writing from one of the greats, but without any of the stuffy, 'classic literature' homework vibes.

Final Verdict

This book is perfect for anyone who loves character-driven comedies, from Shakespeare's fools to modern sitcoms about dysfunctional families. It's a great, accessible entry point into classic theatre. You don't need a history degree; you just need to enjoy watching a magnificently terrible person tie himself in knots. If you've ever rolled your eyes at a relative's cheapness or rooted for a clever underdog to outsmart a bully, you'll find a friend in this nearly 400-year-old play. It's a sharp, speedy read that proves some human flaws—and the jokes we make about them—are truly timeless.