A Contrarian’s Overview of Les Miz

“People are ignorant of things they ought to know, and know things of which they ought to be ignorant. They are crude and impious.” ~Victor Hugo, Les Miserables

What to make of the stage and film productions of Les Miserables?

I’ve pondered that question ever since I first saw the musical in 1992 Seattle. It was a big hit by then and we had blown our entertainment budget for the quarter purchasing tickets. People I liked loved it. I knew nothing else of the story. So I bought the audio tape (the waning audio technology that year) and listened.

I’m a musician. I loved the music.

I’m a trained musician. I heard how the composer used his skill to manipulate emotions.

That’s what composers do and I relished the whole experience until I stopped to consider the words.

The most “fun” songs were about prostitutes and the bawdy master of the house.

Hey, I swung my hips and sang along. I understand the power of the songs–but as I repeated the lyrics and burned them into my mind, well, I’m not sure how healthy that was for me.

“Certain thoughts are prayers. There are moments when, whatever be the attitude of the body, the soul is on its knees.” ~ Victor Hugo, Les Miserables

Several years later my son’s classmate left Hawai’i to spend six months in New York City to play Gavroche on Broadway.  When the production came to Honolulu, I hestitated–the humorous glory of those prostitutes and the innkeepers–but then decided “art” and “culture” trumped mother unease.

We blew the entertainment budget for six months and took the olders boys to see it–Jay wanted to know what his friend had been doing.

“What was the message you took from the show?” I asked.

They shrugged. They  loved the spectacle of the fighting and music on the barricades. Is there a more stirring anthem than “Do You Hear the People Sing?”

“People are ignorant of things they ought to know, and know things of which they ought to be ignorant.” ~ Victor Hugo, Les Miserables.

We’d spent four days in Paris visiting the Musée de L’Armée at Les Invalides, touring Isle de France and some of the sites of the French Revolution and finished with a trip to Normandy. We rode through the chunnel and hurried to the London theater the next night to see Les Miserables. This time we took young adults fresh from trying to make sense of French history.

This production was geared to the tourist–we attended with many Japanese school girls dressed in uniforms–and was very hurried. But while the music continued its swelling pathos, the speedy rendition and two sopranos who couldn’t hit their notes, made us reconsider the message.

Somehow,  the truly redemptive power of Jean Valjean’s repentence and acts of grace went missing in London. Javert, of course, growled his way through rigid legality and frigid anger before breaking–everyone knew to hate him. But the true heart of this story–grace–was easy to overlook and disappointing.

“Those who weep do not see.” ~Victor Hugo, Les Miserables.

The opening scenes of the film last week stunned me as we moved from underwater  to God’s view above and then honed down to focus on one individual man.  Prisoners dragging a ship into drydock astonished me, and set what should be the spiritual tone of the film.

Then Russell Crowe began to sing.

The poignant songs are beautiful, but Fantine’s elegy of her lost youth, “I Dreamed a Dream,” (magestically sung by Anne Hathaway in the movie–give that woman an Oscar) as well as Eponine’s “On My Own,” underscores what this tale is all about: grief, pain, heartbreak, violence, revenge.

While savoring Hathaway’s performance, I realized I had paid to watch people in torment. The entire film is a glorious orgy of horror–from the beaten prisoners, the gaudy prostitutes, the toothless peasants, to the bloody death of young men at the barricade.

I sat in a comfortable seat to watch people suffer. Beautifully, of course.

Did that make me the moral equivalent of the wealthy Parisians who walked past people living tortured lives in the streets? Can I be sanctified by just observing poverty and grief? Should I better use my time and talents to fight against slavery and the type of misery these people experienced?

“Love is the foolishness of men, and the wisdom of God.” Victor Hugo, Les Miserables

Ultimately, the story of Les Miserables is the contrast been grace and law as seen in the lives of Valjean and Javert. These are the biblical ideas Hugo demonstrated in Les Miserables. From the priest who bestowed the candlestick on Valjean to Eponine’s sacrificial decision to thwart her miserable parents, grace and love abound. Fantine gave up her life for her child, which underscores the power of love to redeem at personal sacrifice. (Just like  Jesus?)

 ”Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise.” Victor Hugo, Les Miserables

Bodies litter the path of our heroes by the end of Les Miserables, but the writers do not leave us in misery. The final scene is a blessings as Valjean makes his confession and leaves this life to be embraced by God–forgiven, justified, loved.

“A faith is a necessity to a man. Woe to him who believes in nothing.” Victor Hugo, Les Miserables

What to make of it all? Faith is the center of Hugo’s work–that’s where the focus needs to be: redemption, forgiveness, love. That’s the truth, the strength, the beauty of all life–on stage or off.

In my opinion, where Les Miz focuses on that truth, this is a powerful work. Maybe the bawdy, fun music is needed, however, to slip truth into the hearts and minds of those not looking for it?

What do you think?

For more insight into Victor Hugo, see The Writing Sister’s posts 10 Powerful Quotes from Victor Hugo and 10 More Powerful Quotes from Victor Hugo.