Les Miserables

Les Misérables is less a novel of Jean Valjean's life and death than it is a swan-song for 19th century France, an unflinching look at the underworld of Paris, and a vast, epic monument to man. Spanning a little over 1,400 pages, this book does not shied away from the task of writing down humanity - from a mildly socialist perspective, if nothing else - and while it may not succeed - and what author could? - the effort itself is a marvellous, wondrous creation that is worthy of its immense literary reputation.

Jean Valjean has spent the last nineteen years in the gallows, a convict serving his time for stealing some food to eat. A strong spirit, his initial gaol sentence is lengthened from five years to seven, then eleven, fifteen, then finally nineteen after a series of failed escape attempts. When he is finally released, he is an angry man, an emotionally stunted man, a man whose soul is on th precipice of a great yawning chasm, the bottom of which is the darkest abyss. He manages to find lodgings with a gentle, elderly bishop in a small town, but is unable to cope with the kindness shown to him and he steals some silver wear. Quickly apprehended, he is returned to the bishop's home by the police, but the bishop tells them that everything is fine, that he gave the silver to Valjean. The ex-convict is stunned, amazed that anyone would bother to save his worthless life, and is still more amazed when the bishop leans in to tell him that 'You belong no longer to evil, but to good. It is your soul that I am buying for you. I withdraw it from dark thoughts and from the spirit of perdition, and I give it to God!'.

From this point onwards, Valjean's life has changed. He struggles to do good, becoming the Mayor of a small French province. Here it is that he meets Javert, a police officer suspicious of the new Mayor's silent ways. They tangle, and Valjean's true identity is revealed. For the next 1,200 pages, the cat and mouse game of Javert and Valjean moves to Paris, the heart of France, the heart of the cultural and artistic world, if Hugo is to be believed. Along the way we meet the sad Fantine, the delightful Cosette, the evil Thénadier, the cheerful Gavroche, the...

...But the characters do not matter, nor really the plot. Many critics have bemoaned Hugo's thin characterisations, an accusation hardly believable, given the size of the book and the relative scarcity of characters, but it is true. Cosette is the perfect French maiden, and that is all she ever is. Marius is the typical troubled youth, Enjolras the brooding philosopher-leader. Jean Valjean and Javert can be seen as mythical prototypes, a night and a day that require one another to exist. The plot, too, is flimsy, and while it contains delights, it is nothing ground-breaking, and the extensive use of coincidence was, even then, considered a lazy way of writing.

But the strength of Les Misérables lies in the dramatic, almost operatic pacing and tension that Hugo creates. And spaced between these, we have lengthy diversions into Waterloo, the Parisian sewer system, gamins, religion, convents, art, history, the underbelly of Paris, and more. Hugo is not afraid to spend time addressing a subject he considers important, even if it is on the extreme periphery of the story. Eighty pages might be spent discussing an event or an idea that lasts only ten of 'real' story. This, however, is not a weakness, and serves to add a sense of grandeur to the novel, a sensation that the books and its ideas are bigger than the set pieces or the plot, that to create Paris in text the author must be able to divert himself where necessary so as to create the biggest painting on the finest canvas available. If this story was to be pared down to its constituent parts, so much of the rich texture and depth would be lost. The essays into the true nature of man, into the fallibility's of justice, politics, governments, wealth, all these add to the colour of the story. Without them, we have an urchin-novel of redemption, truth and love. With them, we have a 19th century masterpiece, a snapshot of Paris and France in the 1830s, and an overwhelming monument to humanity, but most of all, to the poor, the sad, the destitute.

(Also reviewed on Amazon)