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Jan. 22nd, 2013 03:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
skygiantsAt last, we're here: Book Five, "Jean Valjean," THE DEATH OF EVERYONE YOU LOVE.
Well, except Marius and Cosette, but by the end of this book all my budding love for Marius has, alas, died too, so that pretty much counts.
. . . sorry Cosette, I still love you!
But first: the barricade deaths. My friend Rahul over at Blotter Paper and I were talking a few days ago about how the deaths in Les Mis always seem to be these long, drawn-out, heavily foreshadowed things; people are miserable, grow extensively more miserable, and then get their grand death sequences as a sort of relief. This is true everywhere except the barricades.
On the barricades, you get Joly primping in the mirror and Bossuet being like "LOL Courfeyrac where's your hat, your hair looks ridic!" and then, on the very next page, "Bossuet was killed; Feuilly was killed; Courfeyrac was killed; Joly was killed." No fuss, no muss, because this is a massacre. These kids were laughing a second ago, and now they're dying.
And then, of course, there is Grantaire, who has SLEPT THROUGH THE ENTIRE REVOLUTION.
To properly put this into context we have to backtrack to the last section, when Enjolras was like "Grantaire, we have serious barricade-building to do and you are STUPID DRUNK, GO AWAY," and Grantaire was like "come on, just let me sleep in a corner, I won't bother anyone!" and Enjolras was like "ugh, you aren't capable of believing or thinking or willing or living or dying," and Grantaire was like, "I CAN TOTALLY DIE IF I WANT TO. YOU'LL SEE. >:|"
Fast forward twenty-four hours, and Grantaire has snored through cannons and gunshot and an entire collapsing wall of furniture, and everyone is dead except for Enjolras, who is about to be shot by a bunch of soldiers, except they're a little hesitant because Enjolras is SO HOT. Seriously. I'm not kidding. Direct quote: "It's as though I'm about to shoot a flower!"
Anyway, Grantaire wakes up and is like "oh shit I overslept oh shit uh uh uh VIVE LA REPUBLIQUE! COUNT ME IN! WE WILL DIE ROMANTICALLY TOGETHER! . . . . uh, if you're okay with that." Because consent is important when you're suggesting a romantic shared death!
And it turns out the way to Enjolras' heart is via glorious death, because he is totally okay with that, and then presumably all the soldiers who were worried about killing the hot dude are like "fine, if he's taken ANYWAY" and Enjolras and Grantaire die holding hands, which really sad but also Grantaire's actual dream come true.
As for the death of Gavroche, all I'm gonna say is that I missed a subway train because I was too busy reading that sequence, and leave it at that.
Meanwhile, in the sewers of Paris --
-- and here the story pauses for a while, because Victor Hugo has SO MANY FEELINGS that he would like to share about shit --
-- meanwhile, in the sewers of Paris, Jean Valjean is dragging along a mostly-dead Marius, in a heroic and saintly fashion, while thinking to himself, "I HATE THIS DUDE, I HATE THIS DUDE, I HATE THIS DUDE SO MUCH."
And this is why I love Jean Valjean: because Jean Valjean really does not like Marius. He does not think Marius is anything like the son he might have known. He thinks Marius is, in fact, a giant pretentious ponce, and he hates every minute of saving him. And he does it anyway.
Of course at the end of all of this he bumps into Javert, who is still bitter about Jean Valjean letting him escape from the barricade earlier. (Javert: "You irritate me. Kill me instead!") Jean Valjean is so gross and sewer-y at this point that Javert doesn't even recognize him.
JAVERT: Who are you?
JEAN VALJEAN: . . . Seriously? This again? I'm JEAN FREAKING VALJEAN.
JAVERT: . . .
JEAN VALJEAN: And I am so done with all of this, seriously, just arrest me, but first can we please dump off this injured man at his house?
JAVERT: . . . . dead man.
JEAN VALJEAN: INJURED. MAN.
So then they take the most awkward silent shared carriage ride ever back to Marius' grandfather's house.
JEAN VALJEAN: I brought you back your injured grandson!
JAVERT: Dead grandson.
JEAN VALJEAN: INJURED. GRANDSON.
JAVERT: I'm telling you, seriously, this is an ex-grandson.
And then, after Javert has helpfully sent everyone in the household into hysterics, Jean Valjean and Javert go have a second, even more awkward carriage ride, after which Jean Valjean is like, "I'm just gonna go home and you can arrest me then, meet me outside my house in half an hour!" but, as we all know, Javert stands him up and goes over to the corner of the river to throw himself in instead.
Here is the thing about Javert's death, though: so Javert wrestles with his conscience and his broken worldview, and decides there is no ethical path he can follow except suicide, fine. He comes to this decision, and then he goes back to the police station and WRITES A TIDY NOTE filled with HELPFUL SUGGESTIONS FOR IMPROVING POLICE PROCEDURE.
This is not a suicide note. This is CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM. Suggestion #1: prisoners should keep their shoes on while being searched, to prevent hospital expenses. Suggestion #2: Officers should always travel in pairs, just in case any of them happen to run into suicidal crises of conscience when in the middle of arresting somebody. Suggestion #3: there should be more bars on the sutler's window. AND SO ON.
And then, after he has unloaded all of his thoughts on the improvement of the police force, THEN he marches back to the river, in an orderly fashion, and throws himself in.
OH JAVERT.
So now there is nobody left to die except Jean Valjean.
Now, these last few chapters are by far the most frustrating of the book. Because, one, Jean Valjean, while I get your final urge towards confession -- and yes, sure! telling the truth about yourself is a great impulse! get it off your chest! -- SERIOUSLY DUDE, JUST TELL COSETTE. Telling Marius instead is the biggest cop-out ever, and you know it. And then drawing away from Cosette without explaining why out of a sense of your own tragic martyrdom? EVEN WORSE.
But my even my annoyance with Jean Valjean pales besides my aggression towards Marius, who, after finding out Jean Valjean is a convict, kicks the guy out of his house in the most PASSIVE-AGGRESSIVE WAY POSSIBLE. "Crap, I promised he could keep visiting Cosette, but I really don't want him to! But if I take away his visiting chairs, and make sure there is never a fire in the guest room, and take Cosette out during their usual visiting hours, maybe he'll get the hint . . ."
CLASSY.
I will confess, I laughed meanly when he finally brings Cosette to visit with Tragically Dying Jean Valjean, and the doctor comes in and is like, "Oh, looks like it was the company of his daughter he needed to save his life! . . . too bad you didn't come LAST WEEK when it would have DONE SOME ACTUAL GOOD." I hope you feel super guilty forever and ever, Marius.
(How many tragic deaths is this now that Marius has been too much of a failboat to prevent? I'm going to absolve him of responsibility in the deaths of Les Amis, but he had motive and opportunity to save the lives of Mabeuf, Eponine, Gavroche, and Jean Valjean, and in all cases he was less than useless. WELL PLAYED, Marius. Well. Played.)
. . . but then just when I thought I was too busy being furious at Marius and angry about nobody letting Cosette make any active choices in her life to care about anything else, Jean Valjean launched into his final rambling monologue in which he tried to explain to Cosette about how to make glass beads in case she wished to start a factory in Montreuil-sur-Mere and, surprise! I was completely overwhelmed by feelings about Jean Valjean, Most Awkward Dad Trying the Hardest, after all.
THANKS, VICTOR HUGO. I NEEDED THOSE TEARS.
Well, except Marius and Cosette, but by the end of this book all my budding love for Marius has, alas, died too, so that pretty much counts.
. . . sorry Cosette, I still love you!
But first: the barricade deaths. My friend Rahul over at Blotter Paper and I were talking a few days ago about how the deaths in Les Mis always seem to be these long, drawn-out, heavily foreshadowed things; people are miserable, grow extensively more miserable, and then get their grand death sequences as a sort of relief. This is true everywhere except the barricades.
On the barricades, you get Joly primping in the mirror and Bossuet being like "LOL Courfeyrac where's your hat, your hair looks ridic!" and then, on the very next page, "Bossuet was killed; Feuilly was killed; Courfeyrac was killed; Joly was killed." No fuss, no muss, because this is a massacre. These kids were laughing a second ago, and now they're dying.
And then, of course, there is Grantaire, who has SLEPT THROUGH THE ENTIRE REVOLUTION.
To properly put this into context we have to backtrack to the last section, when Enjolras was like "Grantaire, we have serious barricade-building to do and you are STUPID DRUNK, GO AWAY," and Grantaire was like "come on, just let me sleep in a corner, I won't bother anyone!" and Enjolras was like "ugh, you aren't capable of believing or thinking or willing or living or dying," and Grantaire was like, "I CAN TOTALLY DIE IF I WANT TO. YOU'LL SEE. >:|"
Fast forward twenty-four hours, and Grantaire has snored through cannons and gunshot and an entire collapsing wall of furniture, and everyone is dead except for Enjolras, who is about to be shot by a bunch of soldiers, except they're a little hesitant because Enjolras is SO HOT. Seriously. I'm not kidding. Direct quote: "It's as though I'm about to shoot a flower!"
Anyway, Grantaire wakes up and is like "oh shit I overslept oh shit uh uh uh VIVE LA REPUBLIQUE! COUNT ME IN! WE WILL DIE ROMANTICALLY TOGETHER! . . . . uh, if you're okay with that." Because consent is important when you're suggesting a romantic shared death!
And it turns out the way to Enjolras' heart is via glorious death, because he is totally okay with that, and then presumably all the soldiers who were worried about killing the hot dude are like "fine, if he's taken ANYWAY" and Enjolras and Grantaire die holding hands, which really sad but also Grantaire's actual dream come true.
As for the death of Gavroche, all I'm gonna say is that I missed a subway train because I was too busy reading that sequence, and leave it at that.
Meanwhile, in the sewers of Paris --
-- and here the story pauses for a while, because Victor Hugo has SO MANY FEELINGS that he would like to share about shit --
-- meanwhile, in the sewers of Paris, Jean Valjean is dragging along a mostly-dead Marius, in a heroic and saintly fashion, while thinking to himself, "I HATE THIS DUDE, I HATE THIS DUDE, I HATE THIS DUDE SO MUCH."
And this is why I love Jean Valjean: because Jean Valjean really does not like Marius. He does not think Marius is anything like the son he might have known. He thinks Marius is, in fact, a giant pretentious ponce, and he hates every minute of saving him. And he does it anyway.
Of course at the end of all of this he bumps into Javert, who is still bitter about Jean Valjean letting him escape from the barricade earlier. (Javert: "You irritate me. Kill me instead!") Jean Valjean is so gross and sewer-y at this point that Javert doesn't even recognize him.
JAVERT: Who are you?
JEAN VALJEAN: . . . Seriously? This again? I'm JEAN FREAKING VALJEAN.
JAVERT: . . .
JEAN VALJEAN: And I am so done with all of this, seriously, just arrest me, but first can we please dump off this injured man at his house?
JAVERT: . . . . dead man.
JEAN VALJEAN: INJURED. MAN.
So then they take the most awkward silent shared carriage ride ever back to Marius' grandfather's house.
JEAN VALJEAN: I brought you back your injured grandson!
JAVERT: Dead grandson.
JEAN VALJEAN: INJURED. GRANDSON.
JAVERT: I'm telling you, seriously, this is an ex-grandson.
And then, after Javert has helpfully sent everyone in the household into hysterics, Jean Valjean and Javert go have a second, even more awkward carriage ride, after which Jean Valjean is like, "I'm just gonna go home and you can arrest me then, meet me outside my house in half an hour!" but, as we all know, Javert stands him up and goes over to the corner of the river to throw himself in instead.
Here is the thing about Javert's death, though: so Javert wrestles with his conscience and his broken worldview, and decides there is no ethical path he can follow except suicide, fine. He comes to this decision, and then he goes back to the police station and WRITES A TIDY NOTE filled with HELPFUL SUGGESTIONS FOR IMPROVING POLICE PROCEDURE.
This is not a suicide note. This is CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM. Suggestion #1: prisoners should keep their shoes on while being searched, to prevent hospital expenses. Suggestion #2: Officers should always travel in pairs, just in case any of them happen to run into suicidal crises of conscience when in the middle of arresting somebody. Suggestion #3: there should be more bars on the sutler's window. AND SO ON.
And then, after he has unloaded all of his thoughts on the improvement of the police force, THEN he marches back to the river, in an orderly fashion, and throws himself in.
OH JAVERT.
So now there is nobody left to die except Jean Valjean.
Now, these last few chapters are by far the most frustrating of the book. Because, one, Jean Valjean, while I get your final urge towards confession -- and yes, sure! telling the truth about yourself is a great impulse! get it off your chest! -- SERIOUSLY DUDE, JUST TELL COSETTE. Telling Marius instead is the biggest cop-out ever, and you know it. And then drawing away from Cosette without explaining why out of a sense of your own tragic martyrdom? EVEN WORSE.
But my even my annoyance with Jean Valjean pales besides my aggression towards Marius, who, after finding out Jean Valjean is a convict, kicks the guy out of his house in the most PASSIVE-AGGRESSIVE WAY POSSIBLE. "Crap, I promised he could keep visiting Cosette, but I really don't want him to! But if I take away his visiting chairs, and make sure there is never a fire in the guest room, and take Cosette out during their usual visiting hours, maybe he'll get the hint . . ."
CLASSY.
I will confess, I laughed meanly when he finally brings Cosette to visit with Tragically Dying Jean Valjean, and the doctor comes in and is like, "Oh, looks like it was the company of his daughter he needed to save his life! . . . too bad you didn't come LAST WEEK when it would have DONE SOME ACTUAL GOOD." I hope you feel super guilty forever and ever, Marius.
(How many tragic deaths is this now that Marius has been too much of a failboat to prevent? I'm going to absolve him of responsibility in the deaths of Les Amis, but he had motive and opportunity to save the lives of Mabeuf, Eponine, Gavroche, and Jean Valjean, and in all cases he was less than useless. WELL PLAYED, Marius. Well. Played.)
. . . but then just when I thought I was too busy being furious at Marius and angry about nobody letting Cosette make any active choices in her life to care about anything else, Jean Valjean launched into his final rambling monologue in which he tried to explain to Cosette about how to make glass beads in case she wished to start a factory in Montreuil-sur-Mere and, surprise! I was completely overwhelmed by feelings about Jean Valjean, Most Awkward Dad Trying the Hardest, after all.
THANKS, VICTOR HUGO. I NEEDED THOSE TEARS.
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Date: 2013-01-22 11:02 pm (UTC)