Les Miserables

When I was fifteen, I read Les Miserables, cover to cover. As you may have deduced from the description of this blog and the nature of these posts, I struggle to retain much of what I read. However, I've always had strong memories attached to scenes surrounding this particular book--I was reading it when my grandpa was dying, and I remember taking it with me when I visited the hospital, always regretting if I'd forgotten a pen because I wanted to underline and record all the words I didn't know.  In a pinch, I would dog-ear the pages, telling myself I would write them down and look them up later. The notebook from this time in my life has lists of words from Les Mis in it. 

Going back to read the book fourteen years later, I was daunted by its size and the level of commitment it was going to require. I had the paperback Penguin Classics edition (as pictured), which is quite a brick at 1200-some pages. However, as I began reading, the first few chapters about Bishop Myriel immediately captured my attention and affection: perhaps to other readers, his character is dowdy or sentimental, but I love him. At the same time as I was reading the book, I was listening to the 1985 London recording of the musical on repeat any time I cleaned or copy edited. (I tend to fixate on things, sometimes....) I enjoyed the similarities and contrasts between what was happening in the book versus the songs, but I worry that I'll only better retain the songs and the movie rather than the text. Regardless, the book is beautiful and powerful, and I cried at the end, and I'm glad I invested my time in it again. This post is a bit belated because I finished the book just before 2014 ended, but I wanted to write my thoughts on it before they all leaked out.

Title: Les Miserables

Author: Victor Hugo

Year: 1862

Genre: Classic Fiction (French)

Setting: Paris, early 1800s, political upheaval post-Napoleon and French Revolution

Characters: Bishop Myriel (priest who pardons Valjean), Jean Valjean (main character, ex-convict turned mayor turned father and groundskeeper), Fantine (Cosette's mother), Cosette (child Valjean adopts), Javert (police inspector), Thenadiers (innkeepers, thieves), Eponine (Thenadiers' daughter, loves Marius), Marius (student/liberal, loves Cosette) 

Plot: Valjean was a prisoner for nineteen years, and when he finally earns his freedom, he is marked as a criminal and no one will give him food or shelter save for a bishop. He steals from the bishop, who pardons him, which instigates a cataclysmic change in Valjean's life. The story follows Valjean and all the characters who intersect with his life as he leads a new life devoted to caring first and foremost for his adopted daughter, Cosette, and to serving God and others, while still running from the law in the form of Inspector Javert. We see the lives of the poor compared to the middle and upper-middle classes in Paris and learn much about how France has recovered in the wake of Napoleon and the French Revolution, building up to the June Rebellion of 1832 when the students and working class threw up barriers and resisted the army in an attempt to claim freedom from the monarchy. [It is difficult to give a plot summary of such a hefty book without falling into a play by play, which is what I originally started writing and turned out to be an unmanageable length. Read CliffNotes if you want that kind of plot summary.]

Verdict: I loved the book even more the second time around, and I know I will read it again someday. You have probably heard that Hugo leaves the plot and characters behind to give detailed histories and lengthy diatribes about a variety of topics, from the Battle of Waterloo to an assessment of the Paris street urchin to the construction of the Paris sewers. This is altogether true, but I remembered a 200-page interlude on Waterloo, and it was really only about 80 pages--that's a comfort, right? Don't let these quagmires bog you down [pun!]. If you find yourself irritated or bored, just skim until you see a character's name and pick up reading again. The beauty of this book is in the relationship of the characters: Hugo orchestrates the lives of his characters like a maestro leading a symphony, letting one instrument sing while the others harmonize in the background, but ultimately bringing them altogether to blend in a powerful crescendo. [Man, that's a killer metaphor for an English essay there, folks. And by killer, I might be self-denigrating...]. If you're sitting at home, wondering what 1200-page book to pick up next, I wholeheartedly recommend this. It might be best read with a pen or pencil in hand, and you may or may not want to listen to the Les Mis soundtrack at the same time. [If you do, please listen to the 1985 London-Colm Wilkinson recording.] 9/10