#dammit victor hugo

[kingedmundsroyalmurder]

I am honestly also sympathetic to Olive’s perspective here. She did everything right, dammit, and here’s Valancy who threw away literally everything that Olive has worked for and learned to value (conventional attractiveness, conventional behavior, fitting in with the rules of society, pleasing the right people in order to get ahead without looking too outwardly scheming, etc.) and gets everything Olive ever wanted. And meanwhile, Olive still isn’t married.

This is a tangent, but over in Les Mis Letters a few days ago they hit the chapters where Cosette ~discovered her beauty~ and there was a lot of talk about how much work it actually is to be conventionally attractive and how much Victor Hugo doesn’t know what he’s talking about. The tl;dr of the LM chapters is that Cosette hits 15ish (I think? I’m not reading along this time, so i forget her specific age) and suddenly discovers that she is beautiful and also magically discovers not just fashion but exactly how to dress and do her hair and carry herself to take advantage of her beauty. No teenage awkward experimentation for our girl, the Symbolic Representation of France.

But of course that’s not how that works in real life, and LMM, unlike Victor Hugo, knows that. So Olive almost certainly puts a lot of work into her appearance, and does it on the extra hard difficulty of having to pretend like she isn’t. Yes, she’s pretty, but she also clearly knows what colors suit her and how to do her hair in a way that flatters her face and how to talk and hold herself to look both attractive and at ease. Like you said, she learned to perform the Golden Child, and that’s a skill set that takes work to perfect.

And it’s worth it, because there’s supposed to be a reward for putting all the work. You do it right, you play by the rules, you get a good husband and a stable, comfortable, maybe even happy life. Which Olive might still get! But it really must be galling to see Valancy go fully off script and still win. Like, Olive has worked all her life to be a really good tennis player, and then Valancy, who has never been good at tennis, starts playing Calvinball instead and somehow wins Wimbledon. She wasn’t even competing in Wimbledon! What is even happening?

“It’s really disgusting that Doss’ crazy adventures should have turned out like this. It makes one feel that there is no use in behaving properly."

I kinda see Olive's point here... oh dear, am I gonna be controversial again?

So, the way I see this book is that the real villain is not any person, but the clan's customs and traditions. I think all the members perform to some extent, but I don't think they're really bad people as a whole (I maintain that Uncle James is an abuser and Mrs Frederick ofc is an emotional manipulator with her silent treatment, though she's not a Stirling by birth, the rest are mostly boring or pompous or annoying, but nothing terrible). And I think Olive also performs, maybe more than the others, playing the role of the golden daughter, the perfect girl. The only other time we get Olive's POV, aside from this letter, is in the chapter when Barney is getting gas from Uncle Wellington while Olive's in the car. We learn that her fiance worries over insanity running in the family, and then she has an idea:

Wouldn’t it be splendid if she could induce the prodigal daughter to return?

She doesn't care about Valancy, she just wants to score points the the clan. Olive has followed all the rules correctly--yet Valancy, who has shamelessly broken them, gets to bag a Redfern heir and thus gains respect of the clan.

Natalie Lue talks a lot about performing and people pleasing on her Baggage Reclaim podcast and blog (which she doesn't update anymore, but there's plenty of material to read/listen to), I have previously shared an episode where she talked about the dark side of people pleasing--meaning that if you people please all your life, one day you're just gonna snap. It's essentially what happened with Valancy.

“I’ve been trying to please other people all my life and failed,” she said. “After this I shall please myself.

It's like that meme "are you tired of being nice, don't you just want to go apeshit?" I hope Olive and Cecil will be happy together, but it would also be interesting to see Olive, too, go apeshit.

Also, I have just remembered Clarissa Mao from the TV series The Expanse. She also did her best to be the perfect daughter of Jules-Pierre Mao (the Big Bad of the show), who favoured her rebellious younger sister Julie. One day it becomes too much and she goes berserk, trying to kill the main hero of the show. I really liked her character, though I never finished the show (maybe I'll go back to it).

[unionrags123]

Victor Hugo wrote a lot.

Victor Hugo took ages to get to the point.

Except for when “the point” was killing off half of Les Amis.

[alicedrawslesmis]

ok so I just saw a post that said 'how come there aren't a bunch of modern adaptations of les mis like other classics?' and I was thinking about this question a lot these days so I have my 2 cents here: I think it's just because of politics

there's a weird dissonance with the way this book is read in the english speaking world and the french speaking world, because nationalism in france is a bit of a hot topic and les mis is pretty tied to national identity and if you are going to properly engage with the legacy of Victor Hugo, poet, you're going to be wounding a lot of egos and touching on complicated messy feelings (the french reviews for the les mis 2000 adaptation are a big case study on this, where they're like 'finally we took back OUR story from the hands of those YANKEES' nevermind that les mis 2000 is like. It's les mis 2000)

they did have a Les Miserables set in contemporary times recently but I haven't seen it, and it seems to be only les mis in spirit and not actually an adaptation of the story (also the main character is a cop) (there's a lion in there? I didn't know that. Will the people in that block use the lion AGAINST THE POLICE???? Now I'm intrigued)

and in the english speaking world people who adapt the story tend to I guess completely miss the politics of it and just turn into 'evil gay cop chases robber around town' because that's the legacy of the 1935 adaptation and also because they're sort of allergic to having a story with an explicit acab message. People with money to make a les mis adaptation will more often than not be people who think the police exist to protect them (true, and also middle class people need to get off their-our- ass cause this is the fucking message here dammit why do people keep missing this????) (studios are so averse to making a story with an explicit political message cause they're afraid of controversy)

there's this distancing that happens when you're adapting a story from a long time ago where you can be like 'damn haha things were crazy back then... anyway, I'm glad all those problems are fixed now and I can cry about these characters then go home and live my life like nothing is changed' and period pieces tend to be escapist media in general, even the english version of the musical premiered in the middle of a political crisis but people who liked the musical didn't even mention that

and that's just the easiest way to adapt the story, and now we're in a media landscape where modern adaptations of old books tend not to get made, they just tend to be period pieces because it's more prestige this way.

(I still want someone to make a les mis set in the USA in the 70s like it's right there bro come ON)

[just-an-enby-lemon]

[I have a silly idea of Batman recruiting Crane when he was still a professor because Crane was the best on his field and he needed psychiatric knowledge to help with a particular rought case. Scarecrow is already a criminal but no one knows who he is]

Jonathan: Can't I at least go back to my office and check if it's locked? I let my computer logged at all times and a student may use it to change their grade.

*Bruce sends him a look*

Jonathan: What? It happens. I was on lockup so Jeremiah could change his grade on former professor Strange's old computer multiple times. Now I always told him "why take a class on criminal psychology if you have such a weak stomach for Hugo work tales, Miah" and he would go "well my family has this Asylum" and our grades came and his was down and he was soo scared of disapointing his family. It's one of my favorite memories really. So lil old Alyce god bless her soul saw Miah crying and me failing to confort him and she always had a soft spot for Miah so she said "you know I heard that Strange never locks his door and his computer is always logged on" and at first Miah wouldn't do it, he was afraid of getting caught, fear is a very strong motivator, but you already know that, don't you, Batman? Stricking fear on the hearth of the criminals. Anyway, the best way to fight fear it appeared was with more fear as being remembered of the fear of disapoiting his old man was all it took to overcome his fear of Strange's ire. Long story short Miah decided to go. I of course offered to help and he was "you will? But your grades are good?"" and I simply reminded him that his weren't and he was "Thank you, Jon" and we did. We keept doing it the whole semester. I have no idea how Hugo never noticed... What was my point again? Oh yeah, this things happe, Dark Knight, and I pride myself of being a fair teacher. I may have being permissive of cheating as a student but never as a professor, I love Miah but we all known he would be better off teaching or working at the hospital, maybe opening a pratice not in Arkham and he wouldn't be if I didn't help him cheat. I don't want a repetition of that.

Batman: That's certainly a nobble cause, Dr. Crane but I'm afraid-

Jonathan: Afraid! We are all afraid. Now tell me, Crussader what are you afraid off?

Batman: *suspicious* Excuse me?

Jonathan: uh... *internally: dammit Crane that was too obvious* uh... bonding exercise *internally: nice save*

Batman:... Bonding exercise?

Jonathan: Yes, to help inspire trust and calm the body during a stressfull situation. I suppose I started to harshly what about you favorite color?

Batman: I understand that situation might be scary for you but I would preffer if you refrain from bonding activities.

Jonathan: *whispering* social interations make him nervous interesting

Batman: I didn't hear you?

Jonathan: Sorry, I'm a little out of it, I suppose, you are right is merely a bit of fear, it is a rather unusual stiuation. It almost fells like visiting Gotham for the first time all over again.

Batman: I imagine you liked the experience the first time though?

Jonathan: And why is that?

Batman: Because you stayed.

Jonathan: To be honest I find Gotham absolutly terrifying. It's creepy atmosphere, the gothic architeture, the almost permanent fog in the sky, the constant bad weather *raising an eyebrow at Batman* the crime. Gotham is a place where all urban legends are true! There really is poison in the water mains and we truly have crocodiles in the sewers and clowns wanting to kill you.

Batman: Than why stay?

Jonathan: Maybe I just didn't had anywhere to come back to or maybe I just like the fear or maybe and there is the real answer here maybe I just find the people of Gotham truly fascinating. How brave they are in the mist of everything.

Batman: I suppose.

Jonathan: Suppose? *he laughs* Only in Gotham you would find an old lady who would stand up in front of a deranged serial killer like Victor Zsaas and order him to finish his target already cause he was stopping the traffic. Or a kid who face to face with local terrorist Edward Nygma dared him to solve his puzzle. Only in Gotham a man would dress up like a bat to fight crime. We don't have it anywhere else. Certainly not in Georgia! It's inspiring. It makes me wonder what are the gothamites afraid of.

[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

OTHERWISE YOU WILL BE BLOCKED

Warnings: talk of death, assumed character death, talk of untrained medical procedure, spoilers for Night Court season 6 episode 2

AN: Yeah. I started watching Night Court. And I like the sex crazed screw up. Damn. Oh well. It won't follow the script very much as even tho I watched this like yesterday, I can't find it online so we're winging it. I think I got a little carried away with it too but Dan fielding deserves some love dammit and I’m gonna give it to him

"The Dan Fielding I knew was a self centered, egotistical, bootlicking, no-good sack of slime in a $500 suit." I snorted at Roz's description of Dan. It was true no doubt but they didn't know him like I had known him. The man out of the suit and out of the courtroom. Sure there was every hooker in lower Manhattan here tonight and the business shut down probably would have made Victor Hugo jealous but that was before I had met him. Before Dan had decided to stop playing around. "His every action had an ulterior motive. If Dan gave you the shirt off his back you can bet that his pants and underwear would soon follow." I laughed, even though I had started to tear up.

"Thank you Roz." Harry looked out over the group of people that had decided to attend the memorial. His eyes landed on me and I shakily stood up. Christine squeezed my hand before letting go, allowing me to walk up to where Harry was. "(Y/N)? You sure you want to do this?" Harry met me on the other side, making sure the microphone didn't pick up our conversation. Although everyone probably heard anyway it was such a small room.

"I have to Harry." I said as I took his hand. "But stay with me?" Harry nodded and stood off to the side while I took his place. "I guess most of you here know me." I turned to look at the picture Bull had picked of Dan. While professional, it was one with me, one of the few ones where Dan looked truly happy. "Then again I'm in the picture. You don't have to personally know me to know Dan was happier. And I do apologize to those in attendance that lost out on that." My eyes swept over the crowd, who laughed. I saw one or two of them wave their hand, probably glad that Dan had stopped frequenting them. I noticed someone standing in the doorway, unkept and wearing a winter coat even though it was spring in New York. Ignoring them as they walked over to sit next to Bull, I took a deep breath. "Dan Fielding was my partner. Through everything. He was always there for me, even when most thought he would leave. Roz is right. There was always an ulterior motive with Dan. I have a whole drawer in my apartment that is just full of his clothes. All his clothes. He would never just give me a shirt. He had to give me his pants, his jacket," I laughed in spite of myself. "and yes even his underwear. But what many of you don't know is that he was just as much a sweet, caring guy as he was crass." Bull was telling the unkept man to be quiet, drawing my attention back over to them. The man was watching me with rapt attention, his eyes shining. As I met his eyes, my hand flew to my mouth, not quite believing what I was seeing. I turned to Harry, wondering what in the world I could even say. How I could tell him Dan was sitting right there at his own memorial.

"It's alright if you can't go on (Y/N)." Harry stepped up behind me and put a hand on my back. I chanced a glance at Dan, who was looking at me concerned.

'Please.' He mouthed. One thought ran through my head. This had become a roast before I stood up. And how much of that had he heard? I shook my head and turned back to Harry.

"I'm fine. Just needed a moment." I said, trying to make my voice crack. I took another deep breath and locked eyes with Dan. "The Dan Fielding you knew would make lewd comments about practically every woman who came through the court. He had a one liner for every occasion. But the Dan Fielding I knew, was someone else entirely. He would never want you to hear this, so forgive me Dan for what I'm about to say." Dan gave me a small smile and I could tell he was fighting a bigger one. "Dan carried a key to my apartment on his key ring. Not the one that was in his briefcase with his car key. That one could open any door in the courthouse." This drew a quiet chuckle from the crowd. "This one was in his pocket. Along with the key to his apartment and his safety deposit box. He walked around with my picture in his wallet. He wore a necklace I bought him under his suit and only ever took it off at night." Even though I was looking right at him, my eyes filled with tears knowing one day I might have to do this again. "Dan Fielding was the best thing that ever happened to me. And you've all turned this...." Dan stood up, interrupting me.

"This isn't a memorial. This is a roast!" I let the tears fall down as I ran over to him and hugged him tight. Dan picked me up so he could continue to hug me and walk towards the podium I had just left.

"Dan!" Everyone yelled out before he was practically buried in the dogpile they called a hug. He held tight to me as he lost his footing.

“Hey! Hey! I’d like to breath!” He called out as everyone pulled back and let him stand. Dan set me down gently but kept his arm wrapped around me tightly. Everyone started asking questions and Dan answered them back and all I could do was stare up at him, just living in the moment. Being grateful that he was alive. He would catch my stare everyone once and a while, giving me a smile and a small squeeze on my shoulder where his hand was practically griping my shirt. Soon everyone started to filter out, leaving the normal gang. The talking continued and even they started to filter out, leaving Christine and Harry. Dan let me go to talk to Christine.

"It's good to have him back huh?" Harry hit my shoulder with his. I nodded. "A lot to take in right now?" I nodded again.

"The hardest part was never expecting to see him again. Except when I happened across his picture." I wiped away a stray tear, not knowing I was still crying. "But now that he's here, I can't quite believe that I'm seeing him, y'know?" Harry nodded and pulled me into a half hug.

"Well I don't think he's going to take this time for granted." Harry plucked a flower from the many displays surrounding Dan's picture and handed it to me. "You shouldn't either." I took the flower and nodded. Christine gave me a smile as she left, leaving Harry to talk to Dan. I watched the two of them, silently thanking my lucky stars to have Dan back. I caught bits and pieces of their conversation. Nothing phased me but then again it might hit me later on. I silently twirled the flower in my hands, waiting for Dan to take the seat next to me. Instead, I noticed someone come into view behind the flower.

"Harry give you that?" I smiled as I met Dan's eyes. "Don't tell me I was gone that long you moved onto Bozo." I laughed in spite of myself and shook my head.

"I could never do that Dan. You know that." He nodded and put his hands on my knees.

"I do know that." He just watched me for a minute before he spoke up again. "You know I couldn't stop thinking of you while I was stuck there. And I know what you're going to say and I just want you to listen for a second. Yes there were other women up there. Hell I even operated on one." My eyebrows shot up and Dan chuckled. "Yes. I had to remove an appendix because I shot down a plane and yes I will tell you all about that little incident later. When Harry can't make fun of me for it." Dan gently took one of my hands. "Afterwards, I did something I never do. I tried to....well I wanted to make a deal. A real deal and the only thing I could think to ask for was to come home to you. Or see you one last time." His thumb ran across my knuckles and he seemed fixated on the motion. "And I did. And I'm the happiest I have ever been because of it." Dan stood up and walked over to the podium. He leaned on it and watched me. "Who picked the picture?" Dan threw his thumb over his shoulder and I couldn't help but laugh.

"Bull." I stood up and walked over. "He came over to my apartment and we went through so many pictures of you. It was insane. We couldn't find one there so we went to yours." I leaned against the other side of the podium. "Good thing you pay rent three months at a time." Dan blushed and shrugged. "Bull saw that on your office desk. I had gone into your room to find the box you keep in your closet. He was gone before I knew what he was doing." Dan chuckled and looked over at the giant picture of us. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking of hanging it in my room." Dan deadpanned. I blushed and reached out for his hand. "Or maybe it will just go in my office. I'm not sure yet. But I am keeping it." I laughed as Dan started to take it down. Tucking it under his arm, he held out his free hand for me. "Come on. I apparently owe them drinks for the grief I've caused everyone." I tucked myself under his arm and we walked out of the funeral parlor. Dan stopped to look up at the stars and smog before leaning over and kissing me. "I love you."

"I love you too." I rested my head on his shoulder as we continued to walk to my car. "I'll always love you."

[friendlyneighbourhoodshitposter]

Real questions guys

HOW DO YOU PRONOUNCE MUSICHETTA

[tatyana-dreaming]

Finally got around to this!! I was tagged by @notyouraveragejulie (who was tagged by @rosapabal) to make a playlist of my fav opera duets. Since I haven’t been into opera that long, and thus I’m not well-versed in more than a few operas I thought I would just put all my VERY favorite arias, duets, and ensembles together. 

And by “a few” I mean I’m only really fluent in four:  1) Rigoletto, 2) Carmen, the first operas I saw/heard (thanks MET free streams!! they must stream Carmen the most haha) and I LOVE the music, but not as much as 3) Eugene Onegin (freaking lost my mind over that one, the losing my mind still being in process) and 4) Le Nozze di Figaro (YOOOOOOOOOOOO the boppiest of bops start to finish, as you see, it’s like half of this playlist. SORRYYY) The latter two are my favorite operas since the female characters carry the story and don’t end up dead (honestly, it’s a problem in too many operas.@ Carmen and Rigoletto, hard. Even though Rigoletto is based on a Victor Hugo story and I love me a good vhugs plot but *shudders*)

But I have seen my fair share of operas through the MET free streams so I know some good bops when I hear them and I’ve scattered a few other operas in there. I’ve been loving Papageno/Papagena since I was 8 so that one deserves special mention. Yes, I’m a simple girl. I hear Mozart and lose my goddamn mind. Luckily this is not an unpopular affliction hahaha

Here are my VERY favorites for a speedrun though, in no particular order :) linked so you can actually listen to a full version bc I have no patience for Spotify haha just in case anyone actually wants to listen 

Tchaikovsky: Eugene Onegin -  “Puskai pogibnu ya” (DUH, 13 minutes of pure magic, especially the first and last 3 minutes and when the orchestra takes over?!!?!? ?!?! my brain short circuits, it’s too good)  .....but I also ADORE “Slikhali l’ vy, za roschei glas nochnoi?” (the opening duet) to NO END catch me singing it at all hours it’s just so haunting and beautiful

Verdi: Rigoletto -  “Si, Vendetta” (cliche I know, it’s just SO EPIC especially that Schiudete motif at the beginning) .....also I just really love the trio parts in “Ah, più non raggiono,” and can we please talk about Joan Sutherland’s high note?! most sopranos end the final “perdono” going down but SHE GOES BACK UP HOLY CRAP THIS IS NOT A DRILL... i linked a vid with a timestamp because it’s too divine. aside from the fact she then gets stabbed (i hope that’s not a spoiler?)

Bizet: Carmen -  “Près des remparts de Séville” also dang I just LOVE the finale of Act II

Mozart: Le Nozze di Figaro -  I can’t choose! Just that whole opera dammit (but okay fine “Voi Signor che giuste siete” is simply the most satisfying organized chaos my ears have ever heard. Guy really knew how to make a climax. Maybe that’s why I’m such a slut for Mozart.) 

Okay that’s definitely enough from me! Thanks again @notyouraveragejulie for tagging me :) and I can’t wait to see more of yours! Tagging @lizlensky, @monotonous-minutia, @relativeminor - apologies if you’ve already been tagged. I don’t know a lot of other opera folks atm so if you see this want want to share your favs consider yourself tagged! I think this is super fun and love hearing what everyone else can be found jamming to :D

[smhalltheurlsaretaken]

Oups ça m'apprendra à ne pas lire les bios avant d'envoyer un ask haha. Glad to know we're all suffering from the romantic movement whatever the language though (and I can kind of understand about Victor Hugo being an exception, it's just that the way you described the ending really triggered my memories of wondering if passing the course was worth the readings).

Currently in L2, definitely asking myself the same question as I suffer through three hours of Zoom classes about clouds and the symbolism of childhood and harmony with nature every Friday morning. UUuuugh. I don’t really have anything against the movement but I’m getting tired of it being shoved down my throat like it’s the greatest thing ever. I love writing essays about Star Wars, dammit. 

To be fair Ruy Blas really isn’t my reason for loving Hugo. I mean, the writing is absolutely gorgeous and it makes me feel all kinds of stuff every time a character makes a passionate speech (mostly along the lines of - “woe is me, why the fuck can’t I write like that?”), but my undying love for the man’s work definitely comes from Les Misérables.

Like??? It’s so good. I don’t even know how many times I’ve read it now? Jean Valjean was probably the first character that I obsessed over because he has one of the most beautiful arcs I’ve ever seen? Monseigneur Bienvenu is everything a christian should aspire to be and it makes me cry??? 

Sorry for gushing x) But Les Misérables isn’t quite romanticism, really, so it gets a pass? 

[fremedon]

For that headcanon ask game, how about #9 for Jean Valjean? Or any Les Mis character if there's one you feel more strongly about.

9. Adopted specifically to spite the text’s author; fight me, Joanne

I actually find it really hard to hold spite headcanons in Les Mis, because everything I want to fight Hugo on--Patriarchy is Bad, Actually; Gaslighting is Not an Understandable Pecadillo, Actually; Complete Repression Might Not In Fact Be the Best Way to Deal with Trauma; Your Virginity Fetish: More Than A Little Creepy, Victor!--all come together in Cosette, and I want Cosette to be happy, dammit!

[lfthinker]

"#you will pay him 300000 francs for his hyperfixatons dammit#victor hugo bullshit" this sure does say a lot and everything about you huh liz

Unfortunately.

[pilferingapples]

A letter from Victor Hugo to Jules Simon, Paris, June 24, 1872, about Theo Gautier

à Jules Simon. Paris, 24 juin. Mon cher Jules Simon, c’est au ministre et au confrère que j’écris ; au confrère, parce qu’il s’agit d’un poëte, au ministre, parce qu’il s’agit d’une bonne action à faire au nom de l’état. Théophile Gautier est un des hommes qui honorent notre pays et notre temps ; il est au premier rang comme poëte, comme critique, comme artiste, comme écrivain. Sa renommée fait partie de la gloire française. Eh bien, à cette heure, Théophile Gautier lutte à la fois contre la maladie et contre la détresse. Accablé des tortures d’une affection chronique inexorable, il est forcé, à travers la souffrance et presque l’agonie, de travailler pour vivre. J’en ai dit assez, n’est-ce pas, pour un cœur tel que le vôtre ? Théophile Gautier a une famille nombreuse qu’il soutient et pour laquelle il épuise ses dernières forces. Je vous demande, au nom de l’honneur littéraire de notre pays, de lui venir en aide avec cette promptitude qui double le bien qu’on fait, et d’attribuer à Théophile Gautier la plus forte indemnité annuelle dont vous puissiez disposer. Ce que vous ferez pour Théophile Gautier, vous le ferez pour nous tous ; vous le ferez pour vous-même ; et tous, d’avance nous vous remercions. Cher confrère et cher ami, je compte sur votre fraternité littéraire, et je vous serre la main.

 Victor Hugo. 

translation, notes , under the cut

My dear Jules Simon,it is to the minister and the colleague that I write.  To the colleague, because it regards a poet; to the minister, because you can take a good action in the name of the state. 

Théophile Gautier is a man who honors our country and our time;  he is in the first rank as a poet, as a critic, as an artist, as a writer. His renown is part of the glory of France.  Well, at this moment, Théophile Gautier fights at the same time against illness and against distress. He suffers with the torture of an inexorable chronic affliction, he is forced, through suffering and almost agony, to work to live.  

I’ve said enough, haven’t I , for a heart like yours?  Théophile Gautier has a numerous family he supports, and for them he exhausts his last forces. I ask you, in the name of the literary honor of our country, to send aid with the promptness, to send him aid with that promptness that doubles the good, and assign to Théophile Gautier the largest annual indemnity (basically a pension-P) you can dispense.   

What you do for Théophile Gautier, you do for us all; you do it for yourself;’and we all thank you in advance. Dear colleague and dear friend, I count on your literary fraternity, and I give you my hand. - Victor Hugo

If it’s not obvious, this is Hugo petitioning the government to give Gautier, basically, a state pension for Writing Good (not an unheard-of thing at the time, after all!). Gautier really was in his last months; these were the days when everyone was saying final goodbyes (and when Gautier was writing History of Romanticism ).  And he really was supporting a large family-- his two sisters,Eugenie Fort, Ernesta Grisi, his two daughters, and even his adult son to some extent.  

But money, while a problem, wasn’t the only issue here--Hugo by himself could have seen to funds, to say nothing of the rest of Gautier’s considerable community of friends. But Hugo (and many others) wanted Gautier to be honored, dammit,  and have some sort of public recognition before he died. Hugo, by this time a full on national icon, was best placed to advocate for that. 

--The pension was approved, by the way. 

(edit in the first line thanks to @rasoir-national !)

[alicedrawslesmis]

Sketching Chapter 3.3.3 - Requiescant

Victor Hugo pulled a gothic horror visual and decided to present the salon goers from the point of view of a child. Ghosts, dressed in ancient clothes, speaking in ancient sayings sitting in a circle around a fire. He said there has never been anything quite like these salons from the restoration. Even the young people there are old. Marius grew up shy to the point of unsociability, religious, fanatical, ashamed, conservative. His grandpa's lets call it 'joviality' (read: his loud personality and his shamelessness that Hugo called his 'charm') makes him be even more introspective. Hugo gives a half-explanation, for me this is Marius internalizing abuse and becoming silent in face of it (omg... just like Cosette... damn).

Marius is also a survivor. And him and Cosette, although it won't be fully developed since the book sadly ends before that, could potentially have such a mutually healthy relationship! All the potential! If they just! Communicated!!!! COMMUNICATE DAMMIT!! :D! PLEASE!

[rogueholmes]

for @reverseprompts

Art by @dragonpressgraphics

Summary:

Three hours, dammit.

Or, Jean Valjean takes Javert on a date.

[occasionalrpmemes]

Annie Oakley’s Girl sentence starters

sentences from the short story / prose poetry collection Annie Oakley’s Girl by lesbian author Rebecca Brown.

“Sometimes, I must admit, I try to sound mysterious and tragic.”

“Aren’t you afraid one time I won’t come back, that some day I will leave you?”

“Come on, [name], it’s you. You’re the greatest. There’s something about you. It’s... everybody loves it.”

“There’s a price you pay for having what you want. You pay with the wanting that stays on after you stop having.”

“I wanted to go into those woods by myself and ride and ride and ride.”

“You don’t have to do this anymore. You’ve put in your time.”

“Jesus Christ, you made me sick today.”

“Can’t we go back? Please, can’t we go back?”

“I wander from room to room, lost, looking for you.”

“Our honeymoon house is full of people and they just keep staying on and on and on and on.”

“I dream of you, despite the fact that I’ve forgotten what you look like in 3D, in the flesh.”

“You must take a break some time.”

“I hope to catch you some time, alone, off guard, without your loving audience.”

“In the interest of security, we agreed to put out your eyes and burn out the insides of my ears.”

“I have to see you.”

“Don’t let go of me. Don’t let go.”

“It’s OK, it’s OK, it’s OK.”

“I wanted to say something, that I was sorry: for the dance, for the party, for everything, for what we’d done.”

“Home— home— home— ”

“There was really nothing wrong; you were just the way you were sometimes, high strung.”

“I didn’t know you had so much blood.”

“You’re acclaimed. Everyone clamors about you. Everyone loves you. But they don’t know your secret.”

“We worked almost the whole night and made rubble of everything.”

“Lie to me, dammit, lie to me.”

“The dreams aren’t so much about him as they are about his death and me killing him.”

“I want to kill Napoleon.”

“OK, OK, I give. What’s the punchline?”

“Have you ever wanted to kill Napoleon?”

“I want to kill him. I mean, I have to kill him.” 

“We’ve really gotten close lately. I don’t know, I just feel so good about things. I’ve been feeling really good lately.”

“You look at me and you wonder what’s got into me.”

“I have something for you— it’s only a little something, but I want you to have it.”

“How painful it must be to be so proud.”

“You owe me two Italian dinners, one movie, and a ride to Nashville.”

“I just don’t remember what was real and what I’m making up.”

“It’s a night like in a Victor Hugo novel, black and grey and wet, and I feel like a sewer rat.”

“I thought this would hurt you most.”

[crackspinewornpages]

Les Misérables 270/365 -Victor Hugo

261

Meanwhile Marius was with Cosette who was crying because they have to move soon. “When one is at the end of one’s life, to die means to go away; when one ids at the beginning of it, to go away means to die.”p.648 (stop being so melodramatic) Over six weeks Marius took over possession of Cosette, it seemed they intermingled souls and for her to go away meant she wasn’t his and he harshly reentered life. She doesn’t know when they’ll leave or return from England, she will go where her father goes and she will tell Marius where so he can follow, but he has no money. He tells Cosette not to cry, he feels if she goes away, he'll die and he’ll return the day after tomorrow he has to see someone and tells her his address, Rue de la Verrerie.

262

Gillenormand just turned ninety-one, he was still standing but his daughter noticed he was less crochety, for the past six months he was dejected, internally giving away. He waited for Marius for four years, now he realized he doesn’t have much longer to see him. He thought himself above going to him, he never loved someone as he did Marius. He looked at the portrait of his dead daughter, the likeness is strong to Marius and Mademoiselle asked if he was angry at him, he calls him a scoundrel, a vain ingrate and turned away to shed a tear. Three days later he told her not to mention Marius and she assumes he detests him now as he detested his mother for her folly of marrying that colonel.

The substitute for Marius, Theodule, wasn't a success and Gillenormand was tired of his chatter of love affairs and found his cockade intolerable and won't see him anymore. He didn’t have the love for his grandnephew as he did his grandson and he only made him regret Marius more. June 24, he was alone thinking of Marius, how he won't see him again when his old servant said he was there.

When seeing the young man Gillenormand almost swooned and felt to embrace him but in contrast harshness came out when he asked what he came for. (dammit Gillenormand) To beg pardon and acknowledge faults, thinking it would put Marius right but he said no, he wants pity from him. The words came out too late and Gillenormand was angry over having to wait so long and Marius knows it’s displeasing to see him, he’ll ask one thing and go. Gillenormand didn’t want him to go but for Marius to throw himself at him for pardon and felt Marius was repelled by him and how harshness, his grief turned to wrath, Marius didn’t understand and it made him furious. (you’re ninety-one maybe learn to communicate)

He goes off that he destest his grandfather and left his house in despair to live a bachelor and contract debts for him to pay. Marius wanted his permission to marry, Gillenormand has his daughter called just to tell her and sends her away. Gillenormand asks who, Marius didn’t answer and when probed says he owns nothing and the girl also isn't rich and her father is a nobody. Marius begs him to let him marry her, Gillenormand laughs at the absurdity, to do as he likes and tells him never.  

Hopeless, Marius goes to leave when Gillenormand flings him back into a chair, he had called him father and now wants an explanation stunning Marius. He begins to tell Gillenormand how in love he was and where she lives. He knows where Rue Plumet is, next to Theodule’s barracks, he prefers Marius as a lover than a Jacobin and tells him not to marry make nor a mistress. Insulted for Cosette and already insulted over his father he’ll take no more and left. Gillenormand stood stunned then ran after him worried that this time he won't come back and Marius ignores his calls and he falls into a chair in despair. (clap clap clap great job Gillenormand)

BOOK NINTH WHITHER ARE THEY GOING

263

That same day Valjean was in Champ-de-Mars, his trouble over Cosette dissipated. In disguise he saw Thenardier and was certain he was looking for him so he came to a decision. “More over, Paris was not tranquil: political troubles presented this inconvenient feature, for anyone who had anything to conceal in his life, that the police had grown very uneasy and very suspicious,”p.660 They were going to leave for England by the end of the week and it troubled him one morning he saw carved in the garden wall 16 Rue de la Verrerie, (why would you carve it in the wall to be seen by anybody) was it a signal for something, a warning. A stranger had been in the garden and recalled other incidents and didn’t tell Cosette so as not to scare her. While thinking this a passing shadow dropped a note that warned him to leave his house and he looked to see the figure disappear. (wonder who this could be)

264

Marius left Gillenormand in despair as he was in an age not to see evil, he didn’t think of his cousin Theodule. He wandered before returning to Coufeyrac’s and fell asleep in his clothes and woke again with the Friends in his room ready to go out to General Lemarque’s funeral. He left a bit after them with the pistols Javert gave him and prowled about unaware until it was time to see Cosette and heard a strange noise periodically. (wondered if there was fighting) He rushed to the garden but Cosette wasn’t there and the shutters were closed, no one was home. With Cosette gone he could only die, (rolls up newspapers beats Marius with it again STOP BEING STUPID) when a voice called to him that his friends were at the barricade of the Rue de la Chonvrerie. (wonder who this could be)

265

Mabeuf wouldn’t accept the gift from the stars of Valjean’s purse and took it to the police commissioner as lost, so he continued downwards. He owed rent and sold his possessions and gave up his indigo garden, he still had a few books and it seemed people avoided him. “The wretchedness of a child interests a mother, the wretchedness of a young man interests a young girl, the wretchedness of an old man interests no one. It is, of all distress, the coldest.”p.663 When they had no money for dinner, he sold a book and so each day selling for much less than what he bought them for (buy college texts for $$$ and get pittance in return) and hoped he would die before he had none left. One day he bought a book over five sous and had no dinner. His destitution was known to the Horticultural Society and they spoke to the Minister who invited him to dinner, but no one spoke to or recognized him. Several weeks passed, Plutarque fell ill and he had no more books to sell except Diogenes Laertius on June 4 1832 for a hundred francs. The next morning, he sat in his garden in the rain and in the afternoon heard shots from the riots in Arsenol.

BOOK TENTH THE 5TH OF JUNE, 1832

266

A revolt was about nothing and everything, voices, souls, youth, indignations, a taste for change, the elements of revolt. “Revolt is a sort of waterspout in the social atmosphere which form suddenly in certain conditions of temperature,”-”Woe to him whom it bears away as well as to him whom it strikes! It breaks one against the other.”p.665 If we believe cracks of politics a little revolt is desirable from the view of power, it strengthens governments, it doesn’t overthrow. In the Revolution of July, one was sensible of deliverance after the riots, conscious of catastrophe as the public is shaken and destitute. Historically uprisings have beauty as legions clash, the only difference being age and race being the same men died at twenty for ideas and at forty for families, but it is worth the bloodshed, in France uprisings have been disastrous. (yeah they are pretty infamous) Why battle in the first place, are all uprisings calamities, is war less of a scourge and if it cost a hundred twenty million.

267

Uprisings and insurections are two phases of wrath, one is wrong the other is right in democratic states, they are founded on justice. “Sometimes the populace counterfeits fidelity to itself. The masses are traitors to the people.”p.667 Rise if you must but it must be to grow great and insurrection must be forward, only violence is a revolt, insurrections can be resurrections. In most cases riots proceed from fact, insurrections are always a moral phenomenon.  A riot is always wrong, it leaves behind corpses of all without knowing why, the protests of August 10 and July 14 began the same. Universal suffrage dissolves riots to give vote to insurrection and deprives it of arms. “The disappearance of wars, of street wars as well as of wars on the frontiers, such is the inevitable progression. Whatever today maybe, tomorrow will be peace.”p.669 But the bourgeois knew no difference, so, what is June 1832, the book only shows one side in one episode.

268

The 1832 cholera outbreak has been on the minds for three months and Paris was ripe for commotion, the death of General Lamarque was the spark. Lamarque was beloved of the populace and his death was expected and dreaded and afflicted the government. His burial on the 5th people were armed due to rumors and men were collected and watchwords exchanged. Lamarque’s procession traversed Paris with military pomp as the agitated sectionaries and refugees came forth. The procession slowly proceeded as people shouted long live the Republic and the throng began to agitate. The hearse passed the Bastille and halted on the bridge of Austerlite as a crowed circled it, a man with a red flag and people began to drag the hearse and the municipal calvary and Layfayette called out the dragoons as they drew their weapons and allowed Layfayette to pass through. No one can say what happened next but shots were discharged and the tempest loosed, the barricade begun. “Wrath spreads abroad the riot as wind spread of fire.”p.673  

269

When a riot breaks it’s extraordinary everything bursts at once, terror then gaiety, isolated shots, all across Paris in twenty places at once. Guns were taken and men took positions, barricades were made and the bourgeois were forced to assist. Epaulets were torn from officers and chased by mobs. In an hour twenty-seven barricades were up the center was NO 50 with Jeanne and six hundred companions by Saint-Merry and had three streets. A horseman passed out money, a young man carried passwords, another placed sentinels, the interior wine shops were guard houses, a third of Paris was in the hands of rioters. “the combat which had begun with the throwing of stones was continued with gun-shots.” p.675 At six Passage du Sauman became a battle was this revolution the insurrection made Paris a torturous citadel. The soldiers were uncertain which added to the crisis, the Government hesitated, the Nation Guards rushed up in haste, solitude of Tuileries left Louis Philippe serene. (so the king doesn’t even give a fuck the city is basically in a civil war)

270

Paris had more than one insurrection over two years, but Paris accustoms to anything, it’s only a riot, a small matter. (how used to riots revolts and insurrections were they) Those that didn’t expect much were in shock by the firefight, June 25 1832, the city felt fear, the streets were empty, this time it was serious, why is Marshal Soult hesitating, he sensed something in the gloom. Eight hundred suspicious persons were arrested, anxiety was everywhere, an unknown tremor in Paris. Women uneasy, their men had not come home and people listened for rumors waiting for the first shot, over time Paris became more mournful.

(TEN MORE POSTS LEFT!!!)

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[bruisedconscience]

The soldier's expression shifts, and Horace couldn't tell if the quirk to his lips was amusement or anger. He wouldn't say it was because of the scar, there, but...maybe that was part of the reason the man looks so intense, to Horace. His seeing-eye glasses could only see the shape of his eyes, anyway. His expression. Not the color or the dullness of something like another person's eyes.

He mentions Victor and Horace outright tsks, which is rude of him, and he stands a bit taller. "That man is of little help to Mr. Valdis. He's arm candy and nothing more. He pales in comparison to the companionship and support I offer my employer..." And he meant it! He wouldn't say it to Victor's face and risk another knife jamming through his uniform — "a warning, asskisser" — but...dammit, it was true. Horace clears his throat.

"Y..." Horace wonders if that's classified information... "Like any good staff, Mr. Valdis finds support any minute of any day, from myself or from...another part of our team, now, truly, I must be getting back to him..." Even if it was through a door, Horace wanted to be nearby in case Lawrence needed anything. Needed him... He started trying to get around Hugo and make for the door that led back down to the conference room. The champagne is making his head spin, and making him think more than usual that he could probably take Victor in a fistfight, if their confrontations ever boiled down to one...

you are the rite of movement - Horace & Crime AU!Hugo [ n.sfw ]