The Mark of Zorro by Johnston McCulley 

(Audiobook) Read by B.J. Harrison. approx. 8 hours.

They definitely don't write them like this anymore. The Mark of Zorro may very well be the king of the popcorn novels, succeeding in being a witty, adventurous delight despite having absolutely no nutritional value. This isn't an insult: Johnston McCulley's original 1919 novel is as delicious as a well-made dessert, overflowing with chases on horesback, sword play, evil tyrants, noble theives and of course the requisite lovely senorita who manages to not always be the damsel in distress. It's given a spirited reading by B.J. Harrison, the chief cook and bottle washer over at thebestaudiobooks.com. Mr. Harrison, who has narrated over three dozen novels and short stories for his Classic Tales podcast, has outdone himself this time around: he gives both voice and character to McCulley's calvacade of characters, moving from lisping generals to languid nobles with impressive ease.

 The Mark of Zorro is almost a century old and has been remade, re-imagined and rebooted so many times that it's easy to forget its original appeal. A not-so-distant literary grandson to Robin Hood and The Scarlet Pimpernel, Zorro is the classic gentleman bandit, helping the helpless with a careless laugh and an easy flick of the blade. McCulley's contribution to the genre is the creation of the "masked avenger" and it's no accident that he inspired countless superheros of the 20th century, beginning with Batman and moving on down the line. Both Robin Hood and the Scarlet Pimpernel had to resort to one clever disguise after another to fool their captors, but Zorro is far more blatant: he simply dons a mask (in the book it covers his whole face, which at least makes the public's inability to figure out his secret identity a little more plausible). The other thing that explains Zorro's appeal is that he's so American. The novel is set in California during the Spanish colonial era and it's not hard to see the metaphor: Zorro is a hero encouraging rebellion against colonial overlords in the name of truth, justice and, one presumes, other principles of self-government.

It's hard to tell whether McCulley intended Zorro's "secret" identity to actually be a secret to the reader. Since Zorro only reveals his identity at the end, one can surmise that he hoped for readers to be as shocked as the people of the pueblo. On the other hand, it's so blatantly obvious throughout the book, that one has to wonder if McCulley wasn't employing a little dramatic irony along with a sly wink. In any case, ninety years of films, sequels and television shows (and now the Internet) have all conspired to ruin the surprise. But I won't mention it here, other then to say that McCulley stole his surprise ending directly from The Scarlet Pimpernel: both Zorro's and the Pimpernel's true identity might as well be the same man.
One has to be ready to forgive a few sexist tropes of the era: the lovely senorita invariably needs Zorro to rush to her aid. Although McCulley - writing the same year that women got the vote - wisely ensures that his heroine does get at least one moment to save herself without the aid of her masked man.

Another caveat: The Mark of Zorro was written as a serial and it definitely shows: McCulley is always taking great pains to explain something that happened in an earlier chapter - sort of his version of "in case you're just tuning in, here's what's going on." And one does get the sense that he's stretching out the narrative, probably because he was getting paid by the word. These are characters who love to talk, even when it means repeating something they just said in a different (albeit wittier) way. This is where Mr. Harrison, as is only appropriate, rides in the save the day. His performances are so entertaining that one easily forgets the weaker points of McCulley's narrative. This really is the perfect marriage of performance and text. You could go off and read the book yourself, but take it from me: it's a lot more fun to have Mr. Harrison do it for you.