Classics and the Western Canon discussion
Discussion - Les Miserables
>
Weeks 11 & 12 - through the end of the book & the book as a whole

Where can we find the principles of this divine universal moral law? I used to think that the bible and other holy books are its source, but as others have also pointed out, they (including the Christian bible) also contains laws that are contrary to our contemporary notion of justice. I don't wish to offend anyone, but this is a question that has puzzled me and I sincerely would like to know what others think of it.
Hugo thinks that our conscience is the highest justice, and that it trumps human-made laws that contradict it, but what happens when our conscience is in conflict with holy scriptures or religious laws?
Does anyone else agree with me that the real "crime" for which JVJ seeks redemption is not stealing from the Bishop or the boy on the road. Rather, it is his lack of attention which led to Fantine's death.
I mention this in the context of the discussion of universal norms of justice to illustrate the importance of sins of omission as well as intentional crimes.
I mention this in the context of the discussion of universal norms of justice to illustrate the importance of sins of omission as well as intentional crimes.

I don't know tha JVJ really bears any responsibility for Fantine's death. I don't think he was ever told that she was fired and she was encouraged to go to see him and wouldn't. As soon as he knew what had happened he did whatever he could to rectify it. Granted, too little too late. I got the impression that had he been told he certainly would have done something earlier. If he had deliberately looked the other way I would have to agree with you.
@Eliza: You make a good and valid point. My comment was intended to press a bit on the notion that it is not just "looking the other way," (like the rich man in the park who fails to see the hungry children)but also those of us who entrust the care of people to others (like the overseer in the factory)whose values and interests may not be our own. Does the President of Coca Cola bear responsibility for poisoning the water in developing countries?
As for Fantine not taking the advice to appeal to JVJ, I think her own reasoning is instructive too: She was advised to go see Monsieur le maire but she did not dare. Monsieur le maire had given her fifty francs because he was good, he was driving her away because he was just.(My emphasis.)
Granting your point, however, we must then find a better explanation for JVJ's extreme and risky efforts to find and rescue Fantine.
As for Fantine not taking the advice to appeal to JVJ, I think her own reasoning is instructive too: She was advised to go see Monsieur le maire but she did not dare. Monsieur le maire had given her fifty francs because he was good, he was driving her away because he was just.(My emphasis.)
Granting your point, however, we must then find a better explanation for JVJ's extreme and risky efforts to find and rescue Fantine.

...also those of us who entrust the care of people to others (like the overseer in the factory)whose values and interests may not be our own. Does the President of Coca Cola bear responsibility for poisoning the water in developing countries?
I agree that someone in a position of power has a responsibility to those within his reach. To what extent he's responsible is one of those questions that is a slippery slope that quickly goes off topic so I'll stick to JVJ for now.
I think that JVJ did everything he reasonably could. So there's no negligence in the situation but your point (correct me if I'm wrong) is if he bore no guilt or actual responsibility why go to such great lengths to save her? Why take responsibility for a problem that wasn't his to begin with?
I have two thoughts on this.
1. perhaps he sees himself in Fantine. Someone at the end of their rope cast out of society and out of options. He does for her what the Bishop did for him
2. I think Fantine and later Cosette are a way for him to atone. Throughout the book he is given second chances and redemption and while he most definitely becomes a good man I don't think he really accepts the redemption/forgiveness. He pours everything into his factory and then the town and then Fantine and finally Cosette taking nothing for himself (beyond basic necessities). The Bishop's sacrifice followed by the theft from the boy on the road makes him look at his life and see clearly what he's become. Most of the rest of his actions throughtout the book are possibly an attempt to deserve forgiveness.
I've always felt that in the end he agrees to surrender himself to Javert because deep down he sees himself the same way Javert does.

I'm glad you put crime in quotation marks, because it certainly wasn't a crime in any legal sense. Was it a moral or ethical offense? I didn't see that much in LesMis that suggested that Hugo took the view that individuals had a positive duty to others. I got the sense that he was criticizing the structure of society for its treatment of the poor, but not that he saw a positive duty on the part of individuals to make up for that.
Certainly Myriel and Valjean do do much to take care of and provide for the less fortunate, and certainly Hugo seems to approve of this quite strongly. But I didn't see him taking the obverse of that position and saying that people deserve calumny for not taking on the care of others.
Are there more specific passages or incidents you were thinking of in this context?
@Eliza: You understood me well, and respond with two excellent alternative readings. I like the first part of number 1 though the second sentence doesn't work for me because it's too late for Fantine. If you say he is trying to do for Cosette what the Bishop did for him, I am with you.
I agree with you that JVJ did everything he "reasonably" could. For me, though, this returns us to the third possibility that, even though we think he did all he could, he doesn't. Which then leads to your sad conclusion that, despite all the good he has done, he views himself the same way Javert does. (Too bad they didn't have psychologists in those days. A few sessions of cognitive behavioral therapy might have helped him. :) )
@Everyman: Great point about Hugo's interest being in taking society and its structures to task. I agree. And I absolutely believe that society (and government) need more involvement than a libertarian would want. But I get nervous when individual's responsibility is is subordinated to an abstraction like "society." After all, what is society and all its laws and institutions but the cumulative product of individual choices and decisions?
I agree with you that JVJ did everything he "reasonably" could. For me, though, this returns us to the third possibility that, even though we think he did all he could, he doesn't. Which then leads to your sad conclusion that, despite all the good he has done, he views himself the same way Javert does. (Too bad they didn't have psychologists in those days. A few sessions of cognitive behavioral therapy might have helped him. :) )
@Everyman: Great point about Hugo's interest being in taking society and its structures to task. I agree. And I absolutely believe that society (and government) need more involvement than a libertarian would want. But I get nervous when individual's responsibility is is subordinated to an abstraction like "society." After all, what is society and all its laws and institutions but the cumulative product of individual choices and decisions?




However, I personally agree with Everyman in that I think all justice is ultimately socially determined. If you go down the other path then you have to outline what principles of justice are Universal for all time. And then you would have to prioritize these principles of justice, or at least establish a supreme moral principle. That is not as easy as it sounds. Emmanuel Kant tried to do it.
This has been my favorite book of 2009, and I've enjoyed following the conversation here. Really looking forward to Tolstoy next. I'm sure it will be a worthy follow on form this classic novel.
Cheers Steve
www.thewesterncanon.wordpress.com
Those interested in political philosophy--which is what this discussion has largely been about--may be interested in a resource available at www.justiceharvard.org.
Michael Sandel teaches a very popular course there called Justice. PBS recorded several of his classes and there is an associated website with readings and resources. I've only listened to the first two classes but they are fascinating--a mix of philosophy (in this case, Bentham and Mill) with hypothetical issues and contemporary controversies.
Had I heard more I might have been in a position to make more informed comments to the discussion!
Michael Sandel teaches a very popular course there called Justice. PBS recorded several of his classes and there is an associated website with readings and resources. I've only listened to the first two classes but they are fascinating--a mix of philosophy (in this case, Bentham and Mill) with hypothetical issues and contemporary controversies.
Had I heard more I might have been in a position to make more informed comments to the discussion!

There is also a recent video interview of Michael Sandel at www.charlierose.com if people are interested.

Fantine is willing to leave her daughter with people she has known only for an hour or two. I don't think she ever returns to visit her--has she left her too far away? Admittedly she was in great distress at the time, but this still seems an act suited to greater desperation than she actually felt at the time.
And Fantine's despicable lover--he abandons his own daughter to a wretched fate and treats it as a great joke!
The Thernadiers suffer the piecemeal disppearance of four of their five children, apparently without making any effort to find them again, and without even being particularly distressed by it.
Marius comes to worship his father, and his father sacrifices for him, but both relationships are from afar. In person, his grandfather banishes Marius from his sight.
Only the adoptive relationship between Valjean and Cosette seems close--and it is perhaps too close. What are we to make of this? Is it just the customs of another century, compounded by the degradation of poverty and class contempt?

Those are really good points. I had forgotten, as we got deeper into the book, how surprised I was early on that there was no contact between Valjean and his family, even though he loved and cared enough for them to steal to feed them. They just dropped out of the book entirely.
And who among us wasn't a bit surprised at Fantine just leaving her daughter with strangers.
Hugo seems so meticulous about some aspects of the book, one does wonder whether this is an accurate representation of French life of the time, or whether he is only meticulous about historical aspects (remember that he took a trip to the Waterloo battlefield specifically to be sure that he got the details right) and less meticulous about social details.
Very interesting pattern Roger. Thanks for laying it out. For what it's worth, the marriage of Hugo's own parents was very troubled, with his mother taking the children away from their father (a General in Napoleon's army) frequently and, eventually, separating permanently from him. Victor only reconciled with his father following his mother's death.
A question for those who have admired Marius. What are we to make of his reconciliation with his grandfather? Does this show him getting his personal life together (in the vernacular of our talk show circuit)? Or is it an abandonment of the Republican principles for which his father --and his compatriots--sacrificed their lives?

Really great question! I didn't get the sense that he had abandoned his Republican principles, but that he had accepted that people could have different views and still love each other. But I didn't really consider that question at the time.

Principles, schminciples. He was in love and securing a good life for Cosette.
Before we leave the streets of Paris for lighter holiday fare and then a Russian winter, there is one aspect of Hugo’s writing style that seems to me to be so prominent that it may qualify as a theme in its own right. I am referring to his love of antithesis; it pervades the book in small ways and large.
In my understanding, antithesis differs from both metaphor and paradox, though it may contain either or both. It occurs when a writer holds up two words, images or concepts in contrast to each other allowing the reader to view both in the same frame. (Others may be able to describe it better.) The Hegelians among us can explain better than I can the philosophical practice of finding synthesis between them.
In any event, the use of this technique can be a distinguishing feature of a writer’s personality, as I believe it is for Hugo. Indeed, the British director John Barton asserts that “finding” the antithesis is the key to understanding (and conveying) the meaning of Shakespeare’s text.
In Les Miserables the large antitheses, which are spread across the narrative, are easy to recognize, and the small ones are delightful when encountered. Some obvious examples of large ones might include: light/dark; heavenly/earth bound; letter/spirit; young/old. Also, Jean Valjean’s multiple identities are antithetical: peasant, convict, fugitive, mayor, “father,” etc. Or consider Thernardier: thief on the battlefield, but savior of his father in Marius’ eyes. The slum is a location breeds both the Thernardiers’ base crimes and, antithetically, the youths’ high ideals.
There are scenes whose main purpose is to frame an antithesis. One example discussed earlier is the scene in the park, where the hungry children are set against the spoiled children whose father feeds the bread to the swans.
Following are some smaller examples, pulled almost at random from my underlining:
…in any case he had to choose: either virtuewithout and abomination within or holiness within and disgrace on show without.
The pitiless but honest joy of a fanatic in the middle of perpetrating an atrocity still preserves some mysterious radiance that is both funereal and noble.
Death has its own way of harassing victory, sending pestilence hot on the heels of glory. Typhus is a footnote to triumph.
[Describing the battlefield at Waterloo.:]The skeletons of dead trees abound in this orchard. Crows fly among the branches and at the back there is a wood full of violets. [N.B. Similar images recur at the very end of the book as I note at the conclusion of this post.:]
…the tremendous cunning of chance
[Mrs Thernardier is seen by Marius as:] a sow with the eyes of a tigress.
The outsize monument that had once held an idea of the emperor’s had become a pokey home for a street kid. [emperor/street kid; idea/home:]
…accepted insurrections that go by the name of revolutions; and rejected revolutions that go by the name of riots. [In itself, the examination of this antithesis is an important theme in the book.:]
A moment later that repulsive savior, had melted back into the invisible.
Even if we are not conscious of these as we are carried along by the story, their accumulated weight establishes the subtext of the entire novel. Although many of them incorporate metaphors, it is not the metaphor that creates the thematic influence.
In his introduction, Adam Gopink notes that, “Shifting from pole to pole is a good way to learn that the world is round.” This is precisely what Javert is unable to do, and thus he is doomed. Jean Valjean, on the other hand, navigates skillfully and, in reporting his death, Hugo gives us, perhaps, the only example of a synthesis in the entire book.
In a final, dramatic antithesis he contrasts Jean Valjean’s common grave (although he doesn’t specifically identify it as his) with “the elegant quartier of this city of sepulchers, far from all those tombs that show off death’s ghastly fashions in the face of eternity.” Following a description filled with images of water, air, trees, lichen, bird droppings, mold, lizards, oats, and warblers, he closes with a short poem written in chalk by “someone’s hand” and now “probably erased.”
The thing just happened of its own accord,
As night comes on when day is done.
Gopink writes: “Though unequivocal in his own politics, Hugo as a novelist, accepts the contradictions of social life rather than trying to wrest them round to a simple idea of good and evil. For Hugo, civilization is a dialectic without a synthesis.”
I think that this final chapter shows that, for Hugo, the only synthesis is to be found in the cycles of nature: every day, no matter how glorious, will be followed by night; and even the darkest night will be followed by another day. That final, short chapter is titled: The Grass Hides and the Rain Erases. After all the struggle and turmoil of history, the accomplishments and memories of emperors, revolutionaries, policemen, scoundrels, young lovers, and of the most virtuous of men, will lie hidden by the grass and erased by the rain.
In my understanding, antithesis differs from both metaphor and paradox, though it may contain either or both. It occurs when a writer holds up two words, images or concepts in contrast to each other allowing the reader to view both in the same frame. (Others may be able to describe it better.) The Hegelians among us can explain better than I can the philosophical practice of finding synthesis between them.
In any event, the use of this technique can be a distinguishing feature of a writer’s personality, as I believe it is for Hugo. Indeed, the British director John Barton asserts that “finding” the antithesis is the key to understanding (and conveying) the meaning of Shakespeare’s text.
In Les Miserables the large antitheses, which are spread across the narrative, are easy to recognize, and the small ones are delightful when encountered. Some obvious examples of large ones might include: light/dark; heavenly/earth bound; letter/spirit; young/old. Also, Jean Valjean’s multiple identities are antithetical: peasant, convict, fugitive, mayor, “father,” etc. Or consider Thernardier: thief on the battlefield, but savior of his father in Marius’ eyes. The slum is a location breeds both the Thernardiers’ base crimes and, antithetically, the youths’ high ideals.
There are scenes whose main purpose is to frame an antithesis. One example discussed earlier is the scene in the park, where the hungry children are set against the spoiled children whose father feeds the bread to the swans.
Following are some smaller examples, pulled almost at random from my underlining:
…in any case he had to choose: either virtuewithout and abomination within or holiness within and disgrace on show without.
The pitiless but honest joy of a fanatic in the middle of perpetrating an atrocity still preserves some mysterious radiance that is both funereal and noble.
Death has its own way of harassing victory, sending pestilence hot on the heels of glory. Typhus is a footnote to triumph.
[Describing the battlefield at Waterloo.:]The skeletons of dead trees abound in this orchard. Crows fly among the branches and at the back there is a wood full of violets. [N.B. Similar images recur at the very end of the book as I note at the conclusion of this post.:]
…the tremendous cunning of chance
[Mrs Thernardier is seen by Marius as:] a sow with the eyes of a tigress.
The outsize monument that had once held an idea of the emperor’s had become a pokey home for a street kid. [emperor/street kid; idea/home:]
…accepted insurrections that go by the name of revolutions; and rejected revolutions that go by the name of riots. [In itself, the examination of this antithesis is an important theme in the book.:]
A moment later that repulsive savior, had melted back into the invisible.
Even if we are not conscious of these as we are carried along by the story, their accumulated weight establishes the subtext of the entire novel. Although many of them incorporate metaphors, it is not the metaphor that creates the thematic influence.
In his introduction, Adam Gopink notes that, “Shifting from pole to pole is a good way to learn that the world is round.” This is precisely what Javert is unable to do, and thus he is doomed. Jean Valjean, on the other hand, navigates skillfully and, in reporting his death, Hugo gives us, perhaps, the only example of a synthesis in the entire book.
In a final, dramatic antithesis he contrasts Jean Valjean’s common grave (although he doesn’t specifically identify it as his) with “the elegant quartier of this city of sepulchers, far from all those tombs that show off death’s ghastly fashions in the face of eternity.” Following a description filled with images of water, air, trees, lichen, bird droppings, mold, lizards, oats, and warblers, he closes with a short poem written in chalk by “someone’s hand” and now “probably erased.”
The thing just happened of its own accord,
As night comes on when day is done.
Gopink writes: “Though unequivocal in his own politics, Hugo as a novelist, accepts the contradictions of social life rather than trying to wrest them round to a simple idea of good and evil. For Hugo, civilization is a dialectic without a synthesis.”
I think that this final chapter shows that, for Hugo, the only synthesis is to be found in the cycles of nature: every day, no matter how glorious, will be followed by night; and even the darkest night will be followed by another day. That final, short chapter is titled: The Grass Hides and the Rain Erases. After all the struggle and turmoil of history, the accomplishments and memories of emperors, revolutionaries, policemen, scoundrels, young lovers, and of the most virtuous of men, will lie hidden by the grass and erased by the rain.

-------------------------------------------
Would the opening lines of A Tale of Two Cites be an example of Antithesis?
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way--in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.
There were a king with a large jaw and a queen with a plain face, on the throne of England; there were a king with a large jaw and a queen with a fair face, on the throne of France. In both countries it was clearer than crystal to the lords of the State preserves of loaves and fishes, that things in general were settled for ever.
----------------------------------------
Zeke:A moment later that repulsive savior, had melted back into the invisible.
------------------------------------------
Would that also be an example of an oxymoron ?

----------------
Good analysis, Roger. I think it wasn't a matter of not being as "meticulous" as Everyman posits, but more an amplification of the points Hugo was trying to make about how poverty grinds a person down to the point where only the basics of survival matter; food, clothing and shelter. Relationships become a luxury when one is starving.
And for the characters that were not at the bottom of the social ladder, such as Marius' grandfather, he learned that family and friends matter more than artificial political ties.

The more we change, the more we stay the same.

Roger wrote: "Zeke wrote: "A question for those who have admired Marius. What are we to make of his reconciliation with his grandfather? Does this show him getting his personal life together (in the vernacular o..."

Fascinating post, Zeke!
Would you view the concept of antithesis as going beyond just the writing to the main characters of Valjean and Javert?
@Everyman: Glad you found my thoughts interesting. Absolutely, I would agree he sets characters in antipathetic juxtaposition as well. That might be one reason a number of us viewed the characters as not being recognizably "human." Also, as I aluded to in the post, the characters are not good at finding a synthesis or balance within themselves--for better and worse. Javert is the obvious case, but it could also apply to the housekeeper who always tells the absolute truth--until she tells a stark lie. And, I am sure, to others.

I found this not to be true. Yes, Javert does pursue Valjean, but not nearly to the extent that I had expected. Valjean as M. Madeline puts Javert off the trail for several years. He is only identified as Valjean when he turns himself in. After he escapes, he isn't pursued fanatically, and after the escape into the convent, Javert basically forgets about him and goes about his other business.
This is far from a Hound of Heaven type pursuit which had expected from the common concept of the book. Other themes seemed to me much more important than the Javert pursuit.

That was exactly my reaction. There's only one episode that looks like relentless pursuit: when Javert dresses up as a beggar for a day in order to investigate a poor man who gives alms and turns out to be Valjean.

I think that's just the part that plays well on film.
I'm picking up on Everyman's point that, although it gave birth to a popular American TV show, and features prominently in the musical, Javert's pursuit of JVJ is, at best, a subsidiary theme of the book. Remarkably, it seems to me that Hugo tells us explicitly what his book is about. In my edition, this happens on page 1018, at the conclusion of chapter XX of Book I of Jean Valjean.
I will excerpt sentences in the hope they convey the tenor...
"The book that the reader has before his eyes at this moment, is, from one end to the other, as a whole and in its every detail, [followed by a series of anttitheses (!) too long for me to type out.:]...Starting point: matter; end point: the soul. A hydra in the beginning, an angel at the end."
I would submit three possibilities for themes that the hydra addresses: revolution, progress, illumination.
Revolution: …accepted insurrections that go by the name of revolutions; and rejected revolutions that go by the name of riots.
Progress: "Fettered progress is unhealthy and has epileptic fits that end in tragedy.This disease of progress, civil war, is something we have been forced to encounter on our travels. It is one of the fatal stages, at once act and interlude, in this tragedy that pivots around one of society's damned and whose true title is: Progress .
I think that for Hugo the only way out of these tragic outcomes is through what he variously refers to as enlightenment, illumination, education. In these he finds an absolute virtue.
For example.
The true division of humanity is this: those filled with light and those filled with darkness.
We should be sorry for minds that don't eat the way we do for stomachs. If there is something more poignant than a body dying for want of bread, it is a soul dying starved of light
The gamin is a national treasure and, at the same time, a disease. A disease that must be cured. How? By light.
Equality has an organ: free and compulsory education. The right to the alphabet--that's where we have to start.
I will excerpt sentences in the hope they convey the tenor...
"The book that the reader has before his eyes at this moment, is, from one end to the other, as a whole and in its every detail, [followed by a series of anttitheses (!) too long for me to type out.:]...Starting point: matter; end point: the soul. A hydra in the beginning, an angel at the end."
I would submit three possibilities for themes that the hydra addresses: revolution, progress, illumination.
Revolution: …accepted insurrections that go by the name of revolutions; and rejected revolutions that go by the name of riots.
Progress: "Fettered progress is unhealthy and has epileptic fits that end in tragedy.This disease of progress, civil war, is something we have been forced to encounter on our travels. It is one of the fatal stages, at once act and interlude, in this tragedy that pivots around one of society's damned and whose true title is: Progress .
I think that for Hugo the only way out of these tragic outcomes is through what he variously refers to as enlightenment, illumination, education. In these he finds an absolute virtue.
For example.
The true division of humanity is this: those filled with light and those filled with darkness.
We should be sorry for minds that don't eat the way we do for stomachs. If there is something more poignant than a body dying for want of bread, it is a soul dying starved of light
The gamin is a national treasure and, at the same time, a disease. A disease that must be cured. How? By light.
Equality has an organ: free and compulsory education. The right to the alphabet--that's where we have to start.

Hugo seems to expect a lot from free compulsory elementary education. We have that now, and I suppose it's helped a lot, but it hasn't eliminated either poverty or ignorance.

Education -- at least education of the type he means, which goes beyond learning the basic skills of survival, of hunting-gathering, creating shelter and clothing, etc. -- is, in the long course of human history, essentially limited to those with sufficient wealth to enjoy considerable leisure time. Before you can educate, you have to liberate from the need to concentrate entirely on the basic necessities of living.
And when he says "Equality has an organ: free and compulsory education. The right to the alphabet--that's where we have to start." he is suggesting that no non-literate society can experience equality. Is that a fair position to take?


This is so true. It's impossible to educate anyone when their stomachs are empty. Basic needs have to be met first. And when those who are starving are young children that are still developing, their bodies can't overcome the lack of nutrition. I think that's why I was most touched by little Gavroche and the two smaller boys.

“Does human nature thus change utterly and from top to bottom? Can the man created good by God be rendered wicked by man? Can the soul be completely made over by fate, and become evil, fate being evil? … Is there not in every human soul, was there not in the soul of Jean Valjean in particular, a first spark, a divine element, incorruptible in this world, immortal in the other, which good can develop, fan, ignite, and make to glow with splendor, and which evil can never wholly extinguish?”
Hugo then explores how fate affects the natures of his vast army of characters. Some of the reactions are obvious caricatures, but many are nuanced explorations of how a series of events brings out the good and bad in human nature.
* Monseigneur Bienvenu preserves his good nature, rising above anything fate tosses at him.
* Father Fauchelevent gratefully enters a life of service after fate deals him success followed by financial failure, a near-death experience and salvation.
* Fantine sinks into a helpless and guilt-ridden acceptance of degradation.
* The Thenardiers embrace evil to better their positions when fate repeatedly lands them in both good and poor circumstances.
* Javert is trapped hopelessly in a prison of his own fate-formed principles.
* Gavroche learns to be clever to survive, but never abandons a good hearted nature despite the hardest times.
And the most complex character of all - JVJ, who is driven by fate into a criminal mindset, is transformed by an act of good will, overcomes a series of tests of character and ultimately learns complete self-sacrifice.

Nice comments.
Did you (this could be anybody, not just Dawn) come away feeling more hopeful, or more discouraged, as a result of reading LM?
Everyman asks whether Les Miserables left us hopeful or more discouraged. As it happens I am reading a book of short stories about children in Africa called Say You Are One of Them by a Jesuit priest named Uwam Akpan. The stories place the children in the most dreadful circumstances; in one they contend with an uncle's plan to sell them into slavery,in another a twelve year old prostitutes herself to provide a Christmas dinner.
Still, the remarkable thing about the writing is the way the author captures the enduring spirit of these children. In the end, sitting warm and toasty in my wealthy Western home, I am not convinced that he is capturing something accurately, any more than I am convinced that Gavroche and the gamelins are an accurate representation of childhood poverty in 19th century France. Rather, I think both authors are describing an ideal, a characteristic represented by children that should be sought after by adults.
I am not sure that either Akpan or Hugo desires to make us more hopeful or more discouraged. I think both may be aiming to make us more determined.
Still, the remarkable thing about the writing is the way the author captures the enduring spirit of these children. In the end, sitting warm and toasty in my wealthy Western home, I am not convinced that he is capturing something accurately, any more than I am convinced that Gavroche and the gamelins are an accurate representation of childhood poverty in 19th century France. Rather, I think both authors are describing an ideal, a characteristic represented by children that should be sought after by adults.
I am not sure that either Akpan or Hugo desires to make us more hopeful or more discouraged. I think both may be aiming to make us more determined.
The discussion has been wonderful and certainly enhanced my reading and understanding of the book. Without any disrespect to those who got "caught up" in the characters and their stories, I am still left curious about the book's "classic" status. Many people that I respect, here and elsewhere,describe it as one of their favorite books and, despite, or because of, its 1300 pages reread it.
I would be interested in anyone's summary comments about what makes it "great." For me, it is a good book with some great parts, but doesn't cohere as a classic with historical, philosophical or social insights on the order of the best of a Tolstoy, Dostoyevsky, Austin or Eliot.
I would be interested in anyone's summary comments about what makes it "great." For me, it is a good book with some great parts, but doesn't cohere as a classic with historical, philosophical or social insights on the order of the best of a Tolstoy, Dostoyevsky, Austin or Eliot.

Everyman asks whether Les Miserables left us hopeful or more discouraged
zeke:I am not sure that either Akpan or Hugo desires to make us more hopeful or more discouraged. I think both may be aiming to make us more determined
-----------------
I don't think Hugo desires to make us more hopeful or discouraged either. I think he wanted to make the reader more aware of the plight of the underclass aka les miserable. And if they were more aware perhaps they would seek change.

I have only a weak, partial response to that, but I think it's at least in part for much the same reason that some of Dickens is classic writing. It brought forward and personalized some people (and issues) who the reading public may have preferred to think little about.
Like Great Expectations and Magwitch, it presents as a main character an escaped convict who shows that even convicts have a soft, human, caring side to them, and can be deeply concerned in, with, and for the welfare of others. This can shake the public's comfortable belief that "they" aren't like us, and we don't have to treat "them" as human. Also like Dickens, he shows the underside of society in a sympathetic light and makes the reader (very few of whom in his day and age were of the lowest classes) deal with the concept of lower classes as having the same love of life, the same hopes and fears and wants, as those of the middle and upper classes. (A characteristic which isn't totally overcome even today; how many of us really want to know our garbage man or auto mechanic socially?)
In addition, he put forward a view of the history and prospects of France which may not have been comfortable to many. (I think that the role of great literature may be very similar to what someone famously said the true role of religion was -- to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable).
Whether these make it a classic I won't say. But I think these are aspects of it that made it a book of some power and influence. Plus, it's a darn good story darn well told, which seems to count a lot in making a classic (why else would, say, Sense and Sensibility be considered a classic novel?)

I think any time a work touches on universal topics and the human condition and explores them in such a profound way, that work would be considered a classic. Les Miserables fits into the category very well, don't you think?
I found this under the title: Maybe Jean Valjean Was Right. It's an article about a clergyman suggesting that under certain circumstances shoplifting is acceptable--and the predictable push back.
http://tinyurl.com/ybhypvk
http://tinyurl.com/ybhypvk

I read a different report on that sermon, but I admit that I didn't connect it with Valjean. My bad.
It certainly does make the issues of LesMis more vivid and real.
However, I wonder about the statement made by an Archdeacon that "The Church of England does not advise anyone to shoplift, or break the law in any way." While shoplifting is one thing, since it is entirely for the personal benefit of the shoplifter and at the expense of a shop owner who also may have children to feed (I know, the sermon said only steal from big corporations, but they're the ones with the best security; it's easier and safer to steal from a mom-and-pop store), I seem to recall that during the Vietnam War the Church condoned some anti-war protests which involved unlawful actions such as sitting on railroad tracks to prevent the passage of war goods, or burning draft cards. But that's a bit off topic, I realize.
Still, the question becomes, is there a point at which crime can be justified? The priest who delivered the sermon says yes, though he wasn't really very clear about the parameters of when crime is and is not acceptable, nor why when there are, at least in this day and age (unlike in Valjean's) social safety nets that will keep anyone who seeks help from starving outright.
But good job connecting this controversy of the day to our discussion -- another proof that classics aren't dessicated, dead, and irrelevant books, but have something to say even to the most current news.

I don't condone stealing from big or small businesses. And agree with the people in the article that said, if caught, the person's situation can go from bad to really bad quickly. I think Rev. Tim Jones needs to rethink his advice.
Perhaps Rev. Tim Jones should focus on what the church and it's parishioners can do to help those in need of food. For example, church run food pantry's. Perhaps asking their parishioners to donate food to the pantry and donate their time to such a cause. I frequently see that request in my local church's newsletter. Perhaps the church can set up some type of outreach program with advice and services for the paroled prisoners mentioned in the article. And also for the people that have fallen through the social safety net.

I don't condone stealing from big or small businesses. And agree with the people in the article that said, if cau..."
I agree with you, Ali. A church that criticizes the government for not giving enough stuff to people while not giving itself has fallen far from its origins.
On another list, there is a discussion of a recent film version of the opera La Boheme that was shown on public television last week. Unlike the writer quoted below, I really enjoyed it. However, his comment helped me figure out a discomfort I've had about the style of Les Misrerables, but hadn't found the words to articulate.
He says: This rather nice little film has turned out to have what I call a dictionary script, that is to say, that instead of telling us a love story, the producers have told us that they are presenting a story about love, you know, Love, a profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person, that is to say, two people, a man and a woman, both young and in love, he likes her and she likes him, but the like has grown very quickly into a stronger emotion, that is Love, well that is what we are going to be seeing here, look she has blown it [her candle:] out deliberately, not because she wants to sit in the dark, but because she is in love, that strong feeling we talked about..............
I’m not sure I would use the term “dictionary script,” but I understand the point he is making. I think it is expressed with more elegance in a letter from Charles Lamb to Wordsworth, written in 1801 a half century before Hugo's novel but, in my opinion, applicable:
"An intelligent reader finds a sort of insult in being told, I will teach you how to think upon this subject. This fault, if I am right,... [is:] to be found in many many novelists and modern poets who continually put a signpost up to show you where you are to feel. They set out with assuming their readers to be stupid. Very different from [other:] beautiful bare narratives. There is implied an unwritten compact between Author and reader; I will tell you a story, and I suppose you will understand it.
We've discussed the didactic and polemical aspects of Les Miserables a bit in previous threads. But I think this offers a subtly different concern about Hugo's style as well. As I have pondered the book, I have decided that this is what keeps it from the very highest ranks of literature: It doesn't allow for sufficient varieties of interpretation. The real world is just more complex than Hugo's. And, while a wonderfully told story with many memorable incidents, characters and aphorisms, it generally insists on telling me what to think about each, instead of stimulating me to my own perceptions and truths.
He says: This rather nice little film has turned out to have what I call a dictionary script, that is to say, that instead of telling us a love story, the producers have told us that they are presenting a story about love, you know, Love, a profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person, that is to say, two people, a man and a woman, both young and in love, he likes her and she likes him, but the like has grown very quickly into a stronger emotion, that is Love, well that is what we are going to be seeing here, look she has blown it [her candle:] out deliberately, not because she wants to sit in the dark, but because she is in love, that strong feeling we talked about..............
I’m not sure I would use the term “dictionary script,” but I understand the point he is making. I think it is expressed with more elegance in a letter from Charles Lamb to Wordsworth, written in 1801 a half century before Hugo's novel but, in my opinion, applicable:
"An intelligent reader finds a sort of insult in being told, I will teach you how to think upon this subject. This fault, if I am right,... [is:] to be found in many many novelists and modern poets who continually put a signpost up to show you where you are to feel. They set out with assuming their readers to be stupid. Very different from [other:] beautiful bare narratives. There is implied an unwritten compact between Author and reader; I will tell you a story, and I suppose you will understand it.
We've discussed the didactic and polemical aspects of Les Miserables a bit in previous threads. But I think this offers a subtly different concern about Hugo's style as well. As I have pondered the book, I have decided that this is what keeps it from the very highest ranks of literature: It doesn't allow for sufficient varieties of interpretation. The real world is just more complex than Hugo's. And, while a wonderfully told story with many memorable incidents, characters and aphorisms, it generally insists on telling me what to think about each, instead of stimulating me to my own perceptions and truths.

Evalyn: I take your points which are clearly expressed. I think they raise a related question though. What are readers seeking when they read a novel? While I can always make allowances for the conventions of the times, it seems to me that "classic" works should speak to all times. Indeed, the perspectives of readers from the "future" can deepen their texture and call forth resonances that the author could not even have contemplated.
They violate absolut..."
I'm an Asian (hopefully a civilized one : D ), but I also find the Holocausts and other mass murders of innocent civilians like it to be a violation of my principles of justice. And so do most other non-Western people that I know. Even the Koran has injunctions against killing innocents. It's not just a Western thing, I think. If it is, how were we able to get hundreds of countries in the world (most of them non-Western) to sign the UN humanitarian conventions?
I'm not sure whether that points to the existence of universal moral laws, but it sure does show that some principles of justice are shared by a wide spectrum of humanity, regardless of their cultural background.