Literary Linkativity

"Did a voice whisper in his ear that he had just passed through the decisive hour of his destiny, that there was no longer a middle course for him, that if, thereafter, he were not the best of men, he would be the worst, that he must now, so to speak, climb higher than the bishop or fall lower than the convict; that, if he wanted to become good, he must become an angel; that, if he wanted to remain evil, he must become a monster?"

- Victor Hugo (I.2.xiii)

Day Count: 55

Page Count: 500

I'm hitting a major milestone tonight - the fifth hundred page of Les Misérables!

...but that's not why I called you here tonight.

Actually, I had what I initially considered a great post all lined up, but I decided midway through construction that it was all wrong for the current direction of the blog. So... I'm just gonna make something up on the fly and, if you like, you can come along with me. Cool? Thought so.

As I was reading through the Waterloo scene in Les Mis, I couldn't help but be reminded of the battle scenes in Tolstoy's War and Peace. Come to find out that Les Mis, while released only seven years prior to Tolstoy's magnum opus, was read, admired, and apparently emulated by Tolstoy. While visiting France in the early 1860s, Tolstoy met with Hugo, who showed him a copy of his recently-finished novel, which Leo loved (of course!).

Not sure what that anecdote has to do with anything, but I found it really interesting. Like the last couple of years of my literary life are connected somehow. I'll be interested to see how the great classic authors that I read over the next several years connect with the amazing classic works I'm reading right now.

Should be fun!

Stay tuned...

Picking Up the Ball & Attempting to Run With It

"Jean Valjean had this trait, that he might be said to carry two knapsacks - in one he had the thoughts of a saint, in the other the impressive talents of a convict. He helped himself from one or the other as occasion required."

- Victor Hugo (II.5.v)

Day Count: 51

Page Count: 464

Well... I've certainly been remiss in my updating, haven't I? In the 47 days since my last update, a lot has happened - I've wrapped up production on a fantastic community theatre play (which you can read about here and here should you feel so inclined), made what I consider to be some great strides in my professional life, and - of course! - have continued my trek through Les Misérables.

For a while (before we got into Hell Week on the last play), I had even managed to jump ahead of my early, unspoken goal of knocking back ten pages a night. With the hectic and often demanding nature of live theatre, the impressive lead I once enjoyed has been pared back to a just-shy-of-daunting setback, one I look forward to rectifying in the days and weeks to come!

One thing that I have noticed consistently about Hugo's prose is the power of his simplicity. Hugo doesn't use a lot of flowery verbiage and poetic language. Rather, he sticks to very clear, concise language, often keeping dialogue to a minimum in favor of creating a certain mood. Whether it is the overwhelming suspense created by carefully outlining a darkened Parisian street or the tragic heartache of a child having grown up without love, Hugo knows exactly how to evoke the appropriate emotional response from his audience. There have been moments where I just cannot help but marvel at the man's ability to so seamlessly craft a scene that can put even the most detail-oriented filmmakers to shame. (*coffcoffStanleyKubrickcoffcoffDavidOSelznickcoffcoff*)

Another thing I've loved so far about this reading experience is the fact that, much like the men and women who appeared in War & Peace and Anna Karenina, Hugo's characters are fully formed, not caricatures or stock characters, but real people who respond to each situation with the full force of their own humanity. We are shown the inner turmoil of a man striving to live according the higher standard to which he has been called; a self-righteous inspector who unwaveringly upholds the law his own family so carelessly disregarded; a pair of seasoned con artists weaving their trail of deceit throughout France; a woman abandoned by love who somehow manages to cling to the thinnest shreds of hope; and a small child growing up unloved and unwanted, becoming an unwitting pawn in a short-sighted long con.

These are my inadequate facsimiles of the masterfully crafted characters that Hugo presents to his audience. At times, they are courageous; at others, they are pitiful. Other times, they are heart-breaking; still others, they are life-affirming. What they are never, however, is boring.

Perhaps my favorite of these characters - so far - is the man I quoted in my first Les Mis post some 47 days ago and the man whose singular act of grace becomes the catalyst for the entire action of the novel - the Bishop of Digne. Never before have I seen a character that is at once so human and so challenging. He is, as near as I can tell, one of the most potent and accurate examples of the Christian ideal as I have ever read in literature (discounting the Scriptures, of course). His consistent outpouring of love for all - not merely the wealthy or the politically powerful or even the ones who agree with him - is what ultimately sets the novel in motion when he encounters a lowly convict named Jean Valjean and purchases his soul with forgiveness and silver. A more fitting beginning to a book I have not yet read... and never before has a fictional character so motivated me to look at my own faith as a result.

I feel as though I've accomplished much in the last 51 days of reading Les Mis... but I still have quite a ways to go!

More to come...

What brave new world is this that has such treasures in it?

"Have no fear of robbers or murderers. They are external dangers, petty dangers. We should fear ourselves. Prejudices are the real robbers; vices the real murderers. The great dangers are within us. Why worry about what threatens our heads or our purses? Let us think instead of what threatens our souls."

- Charles Myriel a.k.a. Monseigneur Bienvenu, The Bishop of Digne (I.1.vii)

Day Count: 4

Page Count: 32

Beginning anew is a task that is always as fraught with peril as it is filled with excitement. One year ago, I was wading into War & Peace and feeling quite good about it. This year, I'm beginning my read-through of Victor Hugo's immortal classic Les Misérables and feel just as good about it. While my schedule doesn't allow me quite the brisk pace I was enjoying at this time last year (I was not in a play last January, nor did the break end so abruptly last year), I am still getting a great deal of enjoyment from the text.

Hugo is starting slow. After taking a brief stock of the first volume, I recognize that Valjean - the book's main character - doesn't appear until about 60 pages into the book and Fantine - the title character of the first volume - doesn't appear until page 120. Clearly, he is taking his time and allowing the drama to unfold organically, not rushing exposition. I'm looking forward to going wherever he has to take me!

For my journey this year, I've decided to go with the Signet Classics paperback version of Les Mis, which offers a 1987 English translation by Lee Fahnestock and Norman MacAfee. This translation is actually based on what is considered the 'classic' translation by Charles Wilbour with some updated language and a bit closer attention to certain details Wilbour had managed to ignore. I chose this translation for a few reasons:

1. Proximity of Translation to Today - I've heard it said (and pointed it out previously) that a good translation is one that makes the text accessible to its reader in a language that (s)he understands. While the Fahnestock/MacAfee translation isn't the most recent, it is - based on the reports I've read - the most reliable of the recent translations. It was released around the same time as the musical version of Les Mis (of which I am a fan), so it's got that going for it as well.
2. The Ease of Portability - Generally speaking, I do not like mass market paperbacks at all! They are generally very cheaply made, tend to fall apart, and don't look nearly as nice on a bookshelf as I feel books ought to. However, this translation (read: the one I wanted) was only available in mass market, which does offer one very nice perk: portability. While the book is a good two inches thick, it is a lot smaller than my copies of War & Peace or Anna Karenina, so toting it around from place to place (as I am wont to do) will be much less of a burden. So there's that...
3. In a Word... Unabridged! - Since announcing my Year of Hugo on Facebook (again) a scant two hours ago, I've had at least two friends advise against reading the unabridged version of Les Mis this year. I must admit that this is tempting and I would probably give in to said temptation... had I not already read War & Peace. Reading that book changed my perception of literature such that I have absolutely no fear of tackling even the epic task of a book which exceeds my other great reading exercise by about 250 pages.

 I'm looking forward to another great year of reading another of the greatest novels ever written! Here's to a great 2012!