Les Mis
I FINISHED READING LES MIS. I thought the day might never come.
Spoilers for book published in 1862 below the cut.
Somewhat random points ahoy!
My brain kept trying to tell me I was reading Dickens. “A large cast of readily distinguished characters! Social issues of the day!” and then getting horribly confused when we went on a narrative slog through a) Waterloo b) Convents c) Sewers. I was warned about the digressions, but I laughed off these warnings: “Pft! I cut my teeth on medieval romance! Do you realise how long Tristram spent dicking around in the woodland (thanks for that Malory)?” Waterloo did nearly finish me off, but the convent digression was quite interesting.
I read [citation needed!] that Hugo’s subject matter was the infinite, and that’s why he chose to draw in so much seemingly extraneous material. And I like the idea that we’re tracing the impact of one action, the bishop’s forgiveness of Jean Valjean, through the lives (and local economies!) that Valjean later touches on. It’s a good job that Hugo ran into the convenient stopping points of a marriage and a death, otherwise I think the narrative could have continued forever. (‘It is useful for me to go.” says Valjean on his deathbed.)
Apparently I have a new narrative kink too, that I can’t verbalise properly. Kind of... emotionally blackmailing someone into redeeming themselves? “I have bought your soul for Gooooood,” she sings, unable to find the relevant quotation in the text (fuck you Kindle). This works once, from the bishop to Valjean, and then when we see the moment mirrored between Valjean and Montparnasse, and Marius and Therardier, it becomes comical instead of profound, because neither has any interest in redemption.
I loved Gavroche, with his hands in his pockets and his mind unsheathed. As much as ‘street urchin with a heart of gold’ should scan a stock character, the whole impertinent street philosopher role really works for me.
Montparnasse seemed like someone’s fan-nip: with his cravat knowingly tied, a bludgeon in his pocket, a flower in his buttonhole.
Quote that charmed me: “he had daring waistcoats and scarlet opinions”.
Quote that made me giggle: “And a tear trickled slowly down Enjolras’ marble cheek”.
Quote that made me cry: “Do you permit it?”
I very much enjoyed the Amis, with all their “wild pyrotechnics of dialogue” trading final witticisms on the barricade. I think a part of that was probably nostalgia for university, though we did a lot less trying to overthrow the government and a lot more haranguing one another about the social implications of private schools. And oh my god, GRANTAIRE. Another narrative kink of mine, apparently: a character too cynical or blase to have any faith in a cause, but who will get well and truly caught up in it through their TOTAL ADORATION for a person capable of that faith.
Fic you should write so I don’t have to:
Valjean’s moment of parenting horror when Cosette put cherries in her ears.
Hugo/Napoleon. (may benefit from some form of time travel) This entry was originally posted at http://grenegome.dreamwidth.org/17555.html. Please comment there using OpenID.