“How wonderful it is to be loved, but how much greater to love! The heart becomes heroic by passion; it rejects everything that is not pure and does not arm itself with anything that is not noble and great. An unworthy thought can no longer take root in him than a nettle in a glacier. The haughty and serene spirit, immune to all low passion and emotion that prevails over the clouds and shadows of this world, the follies, lies, hatred, vanities and miseries, dwells in the azure sky and feel the deep and subterranean changes of fate no more than the mountain peak feels the earthquake.”
As I read these lines, I knew how I was going to start my review once I finished the book, and that I would recommend it to anyone who would listen.
Les Miserables definitely counts as one of my favorite books and is, perhaps, one of the best works in all of literature. No wonder Ayn Rand admires Victor Hugo.
So be prepared for a really long review. Genius and master storyteller that Hugo is, the 1201 pages (the rest were relegated to the appendix by the translator) made for quick reading (except for the account of the Battle of Waterloo, ‘a few pages of history’ and the sewage system French, all of which I completely skipped). The many twists and turns, the revival of characters I thought irrelevant, in the most unexpected places to take the story in a whole new direction, made it completely captivating, except for a few places where perhaps Hugo fought with his editor and made it through. a point to make sure that everything he had written would find a place in the final work, eg the 3 examples mentioned above that tried my patience in the first few pages and which I skipped through without guilt. The eloquent prose and lofty thoughts did a good job of transporting me to a different world and inspiring me with the reverie that makes a person write poetry. Trust me, as your eyes grace the pages, all your finer sensibilities will be awakened and you will be intoxicated with idealism and beauty. As Howard Roark said: “For the glory of man.” That’s what this book is about: a story of heroism. Or, as Hugo himself said, “This book is a drama in which the protagonist is the infinite.”
Jean Valjean, the protagonist and his savior Monseigneur Bienvenu will make you want to be a better person. First about the latter. Show this: “Don’t ask the name of the person looking for a bed for the night. He who refuses to give his name needs shelter the most… We must never fear thieves or murderers. They are dangers from without.” “little dangers. It is ourselves we have to fear. Prejudice is the real thief and vice is the real murderer.” He could go on about his “sublime absurdities of goodness” and how “peaceful in his solitude, adoring, equating the stillness of heaven with the stillness of his own heartbeat, carried away in the shadows by God’s visible and unseen splendors, opened his spirit to the thoughts that came from the unknown” and how in all of this “he did not scrutinize God but let his eyes dazzle” but what moved me most, apart from his meeting with Jean Valjean, was his delicacy: “Isn’t he Is there true evangelization in the delicacy that refrains from preaching and moralizing? Avoid probing an open wound, is not that the truest sympathy? Okay, now onto one of the most moving parts of the story: the episode in which Jean Valjean, an ex-convict, finds shelter, food, and most importantly, humane treatment, in the bishop’s place and is taken from him. the soul to the devil and they buy it. for God by the bishop. “Like an owl surprised by a sudden dawn, he was blinded by the radiance of virtue.” Yes, dear reader, I have Les Miserables open next to me and this review will have many quotes directly from the book (I’m still not past 200 pages!).
I had premonitions of what would happen to Fantine, but I thought Hugo was extremely cruel to let her die the way she did. His feelings for his daughter, which Hugo describes along with his observations about the miracles that children are, are sublime. And the ‘tempest in the skull’ of Monsieur Madeleine and what he finally does in response to his awareness is extremely moving. Particularly moving was the fact that Monsieur Madelene observed in the courtroom that in the previous case “he had been judged in the absence of God.” Same for the part about Fantine’s grave: “Thank you, God knows where to look for our souls.”
Part 1 took me longer and having reached book 2 of part 2, little by little I became aware that I had in my hands a book that I would surely fall in love with. He was impressed, but not really, by then. My opinion changed very soon. Jean Valejean’s meeting with Cosette and his journey to happiness as father and daughter united by providence is intertwined with such tender prose that one can hardly help but be moved. Take this one: “To stand by her bed watching her sleep was to experience a shiver of ecstasy. She discovered the dying tenderness of a mother without knowing what it was, for nothing is deeper and sweeter than the overwhelming impulse of a beating heart.” suddenly to love: a saddened, aged heart made new!… Nothing is more enchanting than the glow of happiness in the midst of misery. There is a rosy-tinted attic in all our lives.” These lines beautifully summarize what these 2 souls were to each other: “He protected her and she supported him. Thanks to him she was able to move on in life, and thanks to her he was able to continue being virtuous. He was the support of the child and she his pillar”. Sublime, unfathomable wonder of the balance of destiny!
Javert chasing Jean Valejean and the fantastic entry into the convent, both the first and second times are great. Javert’s character and his death are also excellent reading. And more interesting is the hand of providence that made sure that it was the very convent that old Fauchelevent had been working in, who “having an opportunity to do a good deed, clung to it with the eagerness of a dying man who offered a rare vintage that he has never tasted before.” The character of the new gravedigger is also interesting: “In the morning I write love letters and in the afternoon I dig graves. Such is life.” Hugo was a genius, I repeat.
Part 3 turned out to be more charming than the previous 2 parts. Marius’s discovery of his father, the polishing of his character in poverty, and later his love for Cosette, were all philosophy and prose poetry at its best. I could cite many but exercising the power of choice scares me. Some of the most moving and deeply moving lines, lines brimming with beauty and eloquence have been slow to describe the love Marius and Cosette shared and if I start quoting, the 13,400 characters left for this review on Goodreads would have been finished without my having proceeded to the next part This alone should be enough to say that the confessions of Marius and Cosette constitute one of the most tender ways in which love is announced in literature. I shall not forget, for a long, long time to come, all that preceded this: “And gradually they began to speak. The outpouring followed the silence which is the fulfillment.”
The one from Gabroche was another unforgettable character and the night he spent with his two younger brothers without knowing his identity, affectionate and protective, and fun at the same time, was endearing. The revolution did not surprisingly quench the passion he had developed for the book by then, eventually reading part 3 on through the last one in 2 flat sessions. Marius’s conversation with his grandfather after 5 years was food for thought for the psychology student in me and the separation that followed, for both of us, was heartbreaking. From then on, I dare say, a different level is reached as the backlog was such that I couldn’t put the book down. Marius’s recovery, his grandfather’s ecstasy…the story seemed to be heading towards a happy ending. The sight of the old man praying for the first time in his life was moving again. But the confessions of that other old man and Cosette’s growing indifference put me on my guard for a tragic end. Perhaps Marius would learn of this other father’s good deeds only after death had already parted them. This thought shook me and I’m glad it didn’t happen like that. Jean Valjean’s redemption and Marius’s recognition of the old man’s true worth, however, were too much, as the lump in my throat threatened to burst and the tears welling in my eyes took on a life of their own and just wouldn’t stop. Again, I can’t cite those parts because there are just too many. Thank God it was a happy ending. That’s all I could think of as tears ran down my cheeks as my eyes caressed the last 4 lines:
He sleeps. Although so much was denied,
He lived; and when his dear love left him, he died.
it happened by itself in the quiet way
That in the evening the night follows the day.
I don’t know why… but books like these make me fall more in love with God…
