Les Miserables

I started reading Victor Hugo's novel Les Miserables in October, anticipating the movie version of the stage musical (I actually saw the musical, but remember almost none of it). Three months later, I have finally finished. It's not because I didn't like it--it's terrific--but it's loooooong, one of the longest books ever written.

"The book which the reader has before him at this moment is, from one end to the other, in its entirety and details ... a progress from evil to good, from injustice to justice, from falsehood to truth, from night to day, from appetite to conscience, from corruption to life; from bestiality to duty, from hell to heaven, from nothingness to God. The starting point: matter, destination: the soul. The hydra at the beginning, the angel at the end." So Hugo writes near the end of the book, which is something of a manifesto against the shoddy treatment of the poor. He frames his story around a convict, Jean Valjean, who has been arrested for stealing a loaf of bread. His sentence is extended because of attempts at escape, and he is eventually released after 19 years. But because he must wear a badge marking him as a convict, he is turned away by everyone.

Everyone, that is, except for a priest, who feeds and lodges Valjean. But the man can't help but steal from the priest, who astonishes him by telling police that he had given Valjean the silverware, and adds candlesticks while at it, telling Valjean to use them to become a good man. But Valjean can't help but steal from a small boy, almost without thinking, and is re-arrested. While helping to save a ship full of men, he fakes his own death.

We then see him again years later, where he has become a successful businessman and even the mayor of the town. Introduced into the story are two key characters--Inspector Javert, who comes to suspect the mayor of being Jean Valjean, and Fantine, a young woman who becomes a single mother. She gives her daughter, Cosette, to the horrible Thenardiers, who will prove to be villains throughout the tale. Fantine, in order to pay for the Thenardier's childcare, becomes a prostitute, and dies destitute. But Valjean, who too late realizes he was responsible for her being fired from her job at his plant, promises to find Cosette.

He does, and  raises her as his daughter. Javert is still on his tail, so they take refuge in a convent. Later, Valjean has taken a new identity, and Cosette falls in love with a young man called Marius, who is caught up in a Republican, anti-monarchist movement that will end up in a revolt called the June Rebellion. Valjean discovers Marius' love for Cosette, so goes to help him, and ends up carrying his unconscious body through the Paris sewers. He leaves Marius with his family, but Javert has once again captured him (after Valjean has spared his life). Javert, torn between his duty and the mercy he has been shown, lets Valjean go, but can't deal with the contradiction and throws himself into the Seine.

Les Miserables, published in 1862, is quite a yarn, but it desperately calls for abridgement. The story, when focusing on Valjean, is frequently thrilling. His escape from Javert while toting Cosette is white-knuckle stuff, as is his being smuggled out of the convent (so he can re-enter) in a coffin. There is a scene in which he is cornered by Thenardier and a bunch of thugs, but he escapes. The climactic battle on the barricade is also exciting.

But Hugo is a very verbose man, to say the least. He includes long sections of tangential topics, including the Battle of Waterloo, the sociology of French convents, the use of slang in literature, and the sewers of Paris. This book also requires at least a working knowledge of European history. He writes: "The arrest of the Pope took place, as every one knows, on the night of the 5th to the 6th of July, 1809." Um, no, not everyone.

But Hugo also is a brilliant wordsmith. For example, I loved this description of Madame Thenardier: "Everything trembled at the sound of her voice--window panes, furniture, and people. Her big face, dotted with red blotches, presented the appearance of a skimmer. She had a beard...She swore splendidly; she boasted of being able to crack a nut with one blow of her fist. Except for the romances she had read, and which made the affected lady peep through the ogress at times, in a very queer way, the idea would have never occurred to any one to say of her, 'That is a woman.'" He also has a great sense of comedy and irony, such as this line about a small boy: "In order to extricate himself from the predicament, he took the simplest course; he lied abominably."

Above all, Hugo's humanism shines through. He repeatedly exposes the mistreatment of the poor and underclass--the title, in English, could be translated as The Wretched, The Poor, or The Victims. This is a book for a social Democrat, not for the Tea Party. Also, the character of Javert is fascinating. "It will be remembered that the fundamental point in Javert, his element, the very air he breathed, was veneration for all authority. This was impregnable, and admitted of neither objection nor restriction." When Valjean, who has a chance to kill him, lets him go, this so shatters his sense of himself that he can't go on living.

And the character of Valjean, while perhaps too saintly to be real, is the 19th century version of "do the right thing." Not only does he free Javert, but he makes a confession to Marius after the young man's marriage to Cosette that he does not need to make, while withholding information that would give him glory. Earlier in the book he learns that a man has been arrested and thought to be Valjean. He could have said nothing and allowed the man to be executed, but instead travels to the town and turns himself in. Jean Valjean is a one-man course in ethics.

Les Miserables deserves its place in literary history as a classic. But either give yourself plenty of time to read or get the abridged version.