#but gavroche really will die someday

[akallabeth-joie]

Episode 4

So, last episode we seem to decisively have finished volume 1, volume 2 (unless they double back for more convent fun), and through 3.3.3. We’re probably starting at some point in the late 1820s.  

I’ve got a Kir royale to start with tonight--equally appropriate for celebration and commiseration. Fanfic points are scores for timeline weirdness, out of character activities, bad lines, general annoyance, deleted female characters, and fashion faux paus.  Let’s go!

*Oo, we do get more convent time. Cosette has girl-friends her own age! They do each other’s hair! She’s still wearing a modern side-part. (+100 words) Braids apparently exist in this universe!

*So, JVJ’s private hopes for Cosette to become a nun are here an explicit plan that everyone knows about. Ok. It’s not quite OOC, but the way it’s been changed makes Valjean selfish, rather than selfless (he chooses to sacrifice his ideal future in order to allow Cosette more agency about her own--but now she has to badger him about it first). So, I’m letting this slide because it’s a way of depicting their contrasting hopes--her to experience society, him to find respite from it--even though I think it’s a weaker presentation.

*Minor quibble: Cosette finds out she’s pretty after leaving the convent, not before, and mirrors are explicitly disallowed per Word Of Hugo. +100 changing for the hell of it, because I was merciful before.

*Javert has a very nice hat. Damn, they’re still running with the personal-vendetta-against-JVJ-motivation instead of the lawful-above-all-else motivation. +100 OOC, not that I expected better.

*JVJ’s buried treasure. Arrr!

*Marius meets Pere Mabeuf! He’s an adult now (that the plot is picking up with him again), so what was the point of having his dad die 10 years early? I like Mabeuf and hope to see more of him (growing indigo and reading books and raising flags). Hey, they’re working in the 3.3.2 background on Georges! And now the break with granddad is happening at the right (ish) timeline, so--why did they kill Pontmercy Sr. off early, again? At least it gave us more tiny Marius, I suppose. +100 timeline, all the same

*Nicolette is still an odd choice for countering Gillenormand. Why not Aunt G? She at least has the social/economic standing, even if it’s also OOC for her to contradict her father. Nicolette should really be out of job her, if Gillenormand was getting any sort of consistent characterization between his treatment of Marius, Georges, and her.

*Cosette, you know how to braid your hair! Shame, and +100. Also, nice 15-20 year-out-of-date bonnet. 

*Toussaint! I was worried about her.

*Marius already knows Courf? No meeting with Bossuet? I WAS PROMISED MY FAVORITE SCENES!!! +300 annoyed

*And he’s right to the Gourbeau tenement, no staying at the Hotel Rue St Jacques, pawning his possessions, and learning languages really quick. +100 timeline. Upside: Gavroche sighting!

*Les Amis (well, some of them). At least we’re getting (some of) Marius’s Napoleon rant.

*If Combeferre doesn’t get to cut him off with “Etre Libre”, at least Enjolras is the next most logical choice. Still, feeling betrayed here. +100

*Anyone else finding this Enjolras a bit less... intensely idealistic than usual? I’m also taking this “someday” remark to indicate that we’re pre-1830. 

*It seems futile to keep dinging omitted scenes and incidents, but I’m sad there was no song about moms being better than emperors, and no domino game between Joly and Bahorel while they discuss their mistresses and tight pants, and no ‘Theodule stalks Marius to find out about his affair but it turns out he’s visiting his father’s grave like a proper Romantic’. +300 

*WTF Eponine?!? Davies, she’s supposed to be 15 here, and it’s her dad (not her) who insinuates things to Marius (that one time, in the note, when he’s a little busy mooning over Cosette). Why can’t we have rough-but-endearing Eponine who shows off her ability to write, steals Marius’s bread, and illicitly uses his mirror? This isn’t Game of Thrones: every female character is not first and foremost a prostitute. +200, and hot chocolate for Eponine.

*Cosette asking about her mother. JVJ admits to being a jerk. Why did they make this the plot again? This JVJ’s explicitly motivated by guilt, not love. I mean, it starts that way, but...urgh +100 annoyed, even thought I’ve dinged them for it before. 

*Ok, I may grant them Cosette’s bonnet as an attempt to show her transform from dowdy into fashionable. But still, why is her hair down? It’s just...not something that’s really practical with long hair, much less something that is done in this period. Hair worn down is short, and worn by children much younger than Cosette. For the last time, +100.

*Why did they pick the name Fauchelevent when THEY NEVER PRETENDED TO BE FAUCHELEVENT’S FAMILY?

*...Did the dressmaker just insinuate that Cosette’s JVJ’s mistress?!? Why is he using the term ‘niece’ when they’ve always been (grand)father-daughter. Why is Cosette’s hair still a side-parted modern wave when the marchande de modes proves they clearly know how to do ‘30s hair? And get that girl some sleeve plumpers!  It’s not 1837 yet. +100 OOC, +200 fashion offenses

*Ok, that got creepy fast, and also, THERE IS NO READY-TO-WEAR WOMEN’S DRESS INDUSTRY AT THIS POINT. YOU’RE OFF BY 70 YEARS MINIMUM! +200 OOC, +100 history

*We’re back on track in Luxembourg, but I’m now pissed off that Cosette’s updo is wrong. +100 for new hair offenses

*We’ll, you’ve got the handkerchief incident, but the timeline’s all f*ed again. If you didn’t want months of awkward pining, why did you make a story about Marius Pontmercy? +200

*NO VALJEAN, YOU DO NOT GET TO ABUSE COSETTE LIKE THAT. NO YANKING HER AROUND! +500 OOC and think about what you’ve done.

*You know what, JVJ? I don’t trust your intentions either.

*And it’s the definitely the ANGRY MEN AU. What is being achieved by having Cosette and JVJ yell at each other? You can have conflict between people who care about each other having differ opinions for the best course of action without having them get all shouty as they talk past eachother. 

*”A better cure for love”/”Revolution”. I’d love this exchange in a fic. My new hypothesis is that instead of reading the brick, the writer actually read random stories from AO3 archives. Thus, certain incidents from the novel do appear, but many important character traits have become obfuscated or misinterpreted by being filtered through multiple AUs.

*So we have Enjolras, Grantaire, Courf, and Marius. Nice revolutionary society, boys: two believers, a skeptic, and a human-fail-puppy. +500 annoyed, because I already don’t care if these characters survive. WHAT DID YOU DO TO OUR AMIS?!?! 

*I mean, really, Grantaire only talks for pages at a time. Surely that’s not too little to get a sense of how he speaks? You know, complaints about the world couched in extended metaphors, numerous allusions to classical mythology, commentary on the food, etc? You’re already taken away his best buddies, give him his speeches! +100

*Honestly, I’m almost glad my favorites (JB!) seem to have been cut entirely, because THEY DESERVE BETTER THAN THIS. THEY ALL DESERVE BETTER THAN THIS. [Short fic pledge: in addition to the missing women, I’m doing a missing Amis fic.]

*What, even, was that?

*WHAT EVEN IS THIS?!?

*So that’s the infamous “Marius Pontmercy has a wet dream” sequence. Dear writers of this script: please leave this sort of thing to the amateurs. We’re better at it. +500 WTF

*So, we’ve got little love between Cosette and Valjean, and the Amis are coming across as complete fuck-ups. In heaven, Victor Hugo is begging Charles Jeanne’s forgiveness for having any role in this mess.

*JVJ intentionally showed Cosette the convicts? And openly discusses his past. +100 I’m not even sure any more.

*Eponine delivers Thenardier’s beggining letter. Ok, we have a book-related incident folks! Note it, not even Hugo knows when we’ll see another. Did they have her accept the money just to spite the musical (with the line where Eponine refuses his money).

*Eponine did take the bread!

*And now there’s more about Eponine sleeping around (in a fashion), and Thenardier’s slapping his family around again.  It’s like they can write exactly two characters: shouty people and prostitutes. Ok, three--lying nuns.

*Put on your bonnet, Cosette! You finally have a decent one. 

*Wait, Cosette’s coming to the ambush? What happened to Valjean being concerned for her safety and suspecting strangers’ motives, and Cosette being trusting? Do they just switch characterizations on alternate days? +200

*Ok, they got a few details right about setting up the ambush. A little. And Cosette’s not coming back with JVJ...so, ok. That actually does sort of follow the brick. I didn’t think they’d manage to make both visits, and feared a Cosette fight-scene.

*No, you’re supposed to put Eponine on watch! And then she wanders off with Montparnasse and so they don’t get arrested with everyone else.

*Marius goes to Javert, and gets his quest items brace of pistols. But they f’ed the timeline again--this happens after Marius finishes school. +100, though it seems petty with how far off the rails this has gone.

*Javert’s lines here are dreadful. We get it, he’s not terribly impressed with Marius. You don’t have to make him a jerk, too. +100 dialogue

*These scenes are really dark. The literal illumination of the central theme of this adaptation, if you will.

*Patron-minette!

*Why the hell is Thenardier yelling about Colonel Pontmercy? He doesn’t know Marius is listening (or would find it relevant), and has more recent and relevant slights to reflect on. Again, they’re treating the audience as dumb: we heard Maris get instructions from his dad, and you can just show him reacting without having Thenardier f’ing monologue about it.

*Gavroche. Thank Hugo, we finally have a redeeming moment.  And, with his appearance, we reach the end of volume 3 (less a bunch of stuff in the middle). Also, apparently everyone and her brother knows about Eponine’s crush on Marius, so we won’t be getting the heart-breaking understatement of ‘I think I was a little bit in love with you.’ :(

*And we get another moment of Cosette caring about JVJ. Unforunately, with what went before, I’m reading this as Stockholm Syndrome rather than affection.

So, we’re finished volume 3 (with a bit of Patron-Minette, 60% fewer Amis, 40% fewer Thenardier children, and 100% fewer puns).

Now, I need to go bang my head against a tree for two hours.

[gavrochethegamin]

Barricade Day

((This is a repost and I am completely unashamed at admitting such. What changes I’ve made are minor and in keeping with the character for this day.))

Eponine was dead.

Running as fast as his legs could carry him the gamin did not feel the accompanying rush of joy or bounding freedom that he often associated with such journeys. Gavroche’s instinct was to put as much distance as he could between himself and his sister’s lifeless body. How could he move and breathe while she lay so unnaturally still?

I’ll never hear her sing again.

That thought spurred him on and his eyes stung, but whether it was with exertion or this new and overwhelming realization was beyond saying. His lungs blazed brightly and the agony gradually migrated into the pit of his stomach. And yet his legs moved though he wanted to do nothing but collapse.

  How often I teased her to distraction.

How often I teased her about Marius.

How often I teased her for her singing.

  All he could see was her large dark eyes and her smiling lips. All he could feel was how immeasurably vast the world seemed and how truly insignificant he was without the one person he loved above any other he ever knew. His bright star had fallen to the earth. She would be buried and his heart would follow her to the grave.

The errand was a blur. He remembered Cosette’s father giving him advice about not returning to the barricade, but by that point Gavroche was beyond listening. The ragged boy had only half heeded the well-intended advice, but he needed to return to his sister. He could not and would not abandon Eponine’s body to the ungentle mercies of the hyenas that roamed the streets; he would not see her carted off and sold as some cadaver for a rich student to rip apart. The world had finally taken everything that he valued.

I’ll be damned if they take that too.

There was nothing more the child wanted to do but to keen and shriek, but he wouldn’t allow himself that extravagance. There was no time. He was weary from the journey he had made and from the grief that sat in his bones. As the flood of exhaustion and pain began to gnaw at his soul he felt his own descent that night. He could not live without her, but he would not give up hope for his friends. They still needed him for a little while longer. He couldn’t rest. It wasn’t time.

The break of dawn brought no relief as the sun burned red and streaked the sky with a rosy haze. Gavroche didn’t often enjoy beauty for its own sake, but he was captivated by such a striking sunrise. It was only fitting that Eponine would bring such an exquisite sky to look down upon them after a wretchedly endless night of misery and rain.

The peace did not last and with the break of day the war started fresh and merciless. The people had abandoned them, but this did not surprise the gamin. He didn’t expect most of the populace to be as brave and daring as those with whom he associated. Inside the inn, the Amis were taking stock of the situation and the wild child of the streets overhead their murmurs of concern. They were running out of ammunition.

Beyond the barricade were the bodies of the fallen soldiers. Perhaps once he would have been morbidly curious about the corpses, but now they were so much meat with belongings his friends and he could use.  The boy knew what needed to be done and without asking for permission he grabbed a basket from the inn. He was willing to risk everything to save his brothers-in-arms.

Gavroche was over the barricades before any of the students could react properly. Confident in his youth, the daring boy pulled off his cap and signaled to his friends to show that he was safe even as they urgently ushered him back to the safety of their faction. Instead of words to reassure his friends he smiled and was in that moment transcendent. He was no longer of the earth and his smile was a smile of the gloriously damned.

  Watch me now Eponine. Watch me fly.

  Battle smoke still clouded the ground and covered him. He didn’t have much time, but he didn’t need much for what he was going to do. Just as he began to creep through the bodies and recover ammunition from the fallen a round of gunfire exploded around him. Unhurt, he blinked away the fear and stood up in defiance of the guard. They would not make him run in fear. He would face them bravely with scorn upon his lips.

The guardsmen met the traitor with another explosive volley, but Gavroche was unperturbed and began to sing his disdain.

  “They’re ugly a Nanterre,

It’s the fault of Voltaire;

And stupid at Palaiseau,

It’s the fault of Rousseau.”

  He’d lost count of the shots fired at him, but his song seemed to draw more ire as another bullet sped his way and narrowly missed him. This stroke of luck caused him to become very cocky. He was fast, he was brilliant and he felt vibrant.

The mockery kept on and he reveled in the moment. The intoxication of simultaneous fear and exuberance buoyed him and brought new verses to his lips.

  “I’m no lawyer, I declare,

It’s the fault of Voltaire.

I’m nothing but a sparrow,

It’s the fault of Rousseau.”

  How long this went on he wasn’t sure. Gavroche rode each wave like an ecstatic given some fresh insight. He could feel his sister beside him as he taunted and teased. He could feel the anxiety from his brothers and would now and then wave to them in jubilation to raise their spirits. If only they could see the world the way he did this moment of his life. The sharp colors that shown so intense that his eyes ached from the beauty. He felt each of his steps and every exhale of breath with sudden new clarity.

  “Joy is my character,

It’s the fault of Voltaire;

Misery is my trousseau,

It’s the fault of Rousseau.”

  Just as a bird learning to take flight can be cut down by a cat so too can a gamin fall and plunge to the earth. The game was drawing to its inevitable conclusion.

A well placed bullet finally caught the lad and he felt himself fall. It was a unique sensation this burning and stinging. Somewhere behind him he could hear the men on the barricade cry with one voice and it saddened him that he could not make them happier. He had failed them. He had failed his sister. But he would not fall meekly to the side or crawl back for safety. Not Gavroche. The urchin struggled to sit upright and that’s when he felt the wet covering his face. Vaguely he wondered if what he felt was merely more rain or if Eponine’s tears were washing down upon him.

  I’m coming home ‘ponine.

The worst is over.

I will never go away.

And we will be together every day.

  Those soldiers who saw him were met not with anger or bitterness but a silvery peal of laughter. The child who loved his liberty more than his life remained his own creature to the end. He had chosen this end and it was fitting that he should go away now. Even then, at his last, the final echoes of his song filled the vacated street.

  “I have fallen, I swear

It’s the fault of Voltaire,

Or else this hard blow

Has been dealt by . . .”

  A second bullet found its way home and the boy fell backward with a smile on his lips.

  One bullet for ‘ponine and another for me.

  Darkness overtook him and he stirred no more.

Gavroche woke with a start, drenched in cold sweat and realizing that what he heard was the sound of his own plaintive keening.

This dream had plagued him now for a long time, but today more than ever he wished he could seek solace in any one of his friends, search out Eponine, or even settle for the cold comfort of finding his father. Anything would be better than being alone, but instead of acting the child did nothing but sing the song that haunted his dreams and curled back into the rags that served as bedding. Sleep would not fully reclaim him for it was too close to dawn, but today he’d arise with the sun and burn away these morbid dreams in the morning’s gleaming rays. Perhaps he’d even find some of the Amis or even ‘parnasse and make sure they were all well and safe.

  ((I don’t read or speak French. The translations of the song from the book I’ve used from several sources but they are not mine and I do not claim ownership of them.))