Les Mis Film Review

I finally saw the film two nights ago and I have to say I thought it was great, better than the book in fact. Although I love the book, they did manage to cut out a great deal of superfluous rambling and unimportant details. I think the only thing that I though was cut a little too much was the Jondrette garret because it didn’t emphasise the awesomeness of Valjean. 

Cutting a lot of Marius’s stalking and mooning made the romance a bit less sickly, Cos was less passive and Marius actually grieved for his friends. I could bear him a bit better in the film, although I though that Eponine wasn’t done justice with her weeping over Marius. I thought of her as being more kick-ass in the book.

Russell’s singing voice is not that bad and suited the role well, although I was surprised to find that Hugh Jackman’s was a tiny bit grating at times. Anne Hathaway and Amanda Seyfried sounded lovely, and Anne’s performance was heartbreaking, Oscar for her and Hugh I think. The singing was probably not up to West-End standards but I thought it did make a difference having them singing it that way.  One thing I noticed more that when I saw part of the 25^th Anniversary performance was that the music sounded more French than I was expecting. It may be mad, but I think I would like to hear some of the songs in the original language (although I know that the musical wasn’t all that popular in France!). 

Hmmmm, I wonder what colour knickers Cosette is wearing? (link)

It was also visually stunning from the very beginning to the end with the way they showed the convicts hauling the ship. Everything was suitably over-the-top as you would expect from a musical and I loved what they did with the Thenardiers. 

I’d like to own it on DVD but I don’t think that it will be a film that I watch regularly what with the emotional wrenching and the length! I did feel weepy, particularly over Fantine but I think that knowing what was going to happen possibly stopped me bawling throughout, otherwise I would’ve cried over the ABC Society dying as well. I’d definitely see it in the theatre one day, although loving musicals as I do there is already a list I’d like to see.

I feel a little bit sad now thinking that I probably won’t write that much more about Les Mis (although I will probably review any subsequent adaptations I see or anything else of interest that pops up). It’s been an epic journey (of just over four months). I will just have to cheer myself with the thought that my journey with the inestimable exasperating Hugo has not ended. Although I have already been warned off Toilers of the Sea, I still have to read Hunchback as part of BIHNR.

A Review of Les Mis

So, after the attempt at reverence in the previous blog post normal service is about to be resumed for a review of this wonderful, maddening book. It’s been an epic journey but one I’ve enjoyed. If you’ve got a lot of time on your hands, it’s well worth a read. So, here are a few points.

Some fantastic, unforgettable characters. Valjean, Javert, the Thenardiers, Gavroche, Fantine. Hugo makes the reader love them, hate them, pity them but above all understand them. This is balanced out by Cossette and Marius, who entirely deserve each other for being completely wet. I did think that there would be some sort of trial for them where they would grow as people or demonstrate the strength they’d developed in the course of their lives, but they don’t seem to. Marius seems to be rather unaffected by his experiences on the barricade and Cos is a bit of a silly girl.

Poor Eponine gets short shrift, she’s a great character who doesn’t appear enough and who doesn’t have her emotions described, although she does get a better role in the musical. She gets the feminist prize in the book (other than having the bad taste to fall for Marius), Cos loses it both for being wet and silly and for being treated like some sort of chattel by both Valjean and Marius, who are both obsessed with her. She is completely passive throughout the entire book, allowing Marius to moon over her, Valjean to plan to take her away to England then Marius to separate her from her only relative. Hugo has a weird way of describing her, putting her on a pedestal yet providing voyeuristic suggestive descriptions of bedchambers and marriage beds. Another Victorian downfall is the lurid sentimentality, particularly in the case of portraying Cossette and Marius’s romance, which is both ludicrous and sickening at times.

The Revolution is one giant damp squid. He spends ninety percent of the book leading up to it then it just abruptly ends as if it didn’t really matter that much. This links to his portrayal of the deaths of most of ABC, Gavroche and Eponine, they all come in such quick succession that they don’t seem that tragic and then they don’t seem to affect any of the characters left. Most of Marius’s friends are dead and he doesn’t care about it. Some of the death scenes are better, particularly Javert’s and Valjean’s and I think the description of Valjean’s spiritual crisis is a highlight of the book. 

Meticulous research on practically every topic known to man, particularly the history of the period. He certainly knows his stuff and gives the reader what is undoubtedly an accurate picture of the revolution. Yet there are frustrating digressions and essays at every turn, when you just want to know where the plot is going. It’s like he’s thrown everything in, all his research, all his ideas, everything, to the point of insanity. By the end, you feel like you know Hugo intimately as he so often speaks through his characters and when he’s not doing that he’s putting his point across even more obviously with a seemingly unimportant essay about sewers or religious orders or street slang. You read them in case there is some point to them, but it’s mostly his way of putting all that research to some purpose. He really could’ve done with an editor and I’m sure you can get one of those ‘half the time’ books without all that guff in it. 

A vast, weaving, intricate plot. Yes, he suffers from that old Victorian downfall, over-use of coincidences but it’s still an achievement, particularly in the way that he has blended history with fiction in such a way that it makes the book quite believable at times. He also uses real locations very well.

Appealing themes and imagery. Above all, Les Mis is a hopeful book, one that looks forward to a future where love and justice are more commonplace than they were at the time. The message is clear that anyone can change and become a better person, that we should avoid false judgements and self-interest and take care of the unfortunates. 

Overall, Les Mis is a true epic, it makes you feel all wrung-out and emotionally drained by the time you finish it. At times it’s been a pleasure to read it and despite its downfalls I have become very fond of both the book and the author reading it. It can be a lyrical, beautiful book at times that makes you feel like you are a better person just by reading it. It’s not for everyone and it’s not a book that can be read in a rush on the bus, but if you’re prepared to put the time in, it’s a rewarding experience. Not sure if I will read it all again, but at least I will know what parts to skip next time!

The End of Les Mis

Book 5 begins with a ‘mystery’ (I say ‘mystery’, Hugo is not that great at disguising plot points, either that or I’ve read far too many Victorian novels riddled with coincidences to avoid seeing through his ploys). Boulatuelle, the Montfermeil road-mender and keen advocate of get rich schemes is still on the search for treasure (between pick-pocketing and being arrested in the Jondrette garret, only acquitted because he was too drunk to prove that he was there with criminal intent). He thinks he’s in there when he spots a man going into the woods, but is disappointed to find an empty hole at the end of the trail. Cheaters never prosper and all that. 

Meanwhile, Marius writhes in delirium, moaning the name of Cossette. Gillenormand attends him, along with a mysterious white haired gentleman (no prizes for guessing it’s Valjean).  He’s in no danger of getting arrested; the inconvenient short revolution has all been forgotten both by Paris and by Hugo. Gillenormand has gone sort of bonkers about Marius, but as usual, once he recovers all Marius cares about is blinkin’ Cossette and whether Gillenormand will let him marry her (he resolves to give up food and medicine if he will not). Luckily for him his grandfather has capitulated (in fact, has swapped personalities almost as dramatically as Javert) and realised that Cos is not what he expected. As soon as he hears that he’ll be allowed to marry Cos, Marius is all over Gillenormand like a rash, calling him ‘father’. 

Cos and Valjean visit (Val is calling himself Fauchelevent again) and all is rapturous sickly sugar sweetness, like some sort of divine candyfloss. Pity there’s no-one to be the best man, Gillernormand asks about Courfeyrac but Marius is far too rapturous to be bothered by dead friends. Gillernormand is charmed by Cossette especially when he finds out she’s worth 584,000 francs (Hugo reveals that Valjean was the owner of to Montfermeil treasure of legend) and Val invents Cos a family history along with identity papers so that she’s safe. He does reveal that he’s not her real father in the process, but as she’s all about Marius, she doesn’t pay that much attention.  Gillenormand goes all frivolous and encourages Cos to become even more of a clothes horse, dragging multiple outfits belonging to former wives and mistresses from his wardrobes.

Marius convinces himself that he didn’t see ‘Fauchelevent’ at the barricade at all, and Valjean is not about to let him know. Marius tries to find both the man who rescued him and the old scoundrel Thenard, wanting to repay them. But he can’t find either – Thenard has disappeared and Madam Thenard died in prison, off-stage. 

Book 6 opens the day of Marius and Cossette’s wedding. It’s during the Mardi Gras celebration, and Thenard and Azelma recognise Valjean on the way. Valjean leaves the wedding feast, leaving Gillernormand to make a big speech about marriage and love. It gives Hugo an opportunity to wax as lyrically as possible and we get more strange luridly prudish prose about the wedding chamber: ‘The lover is a priest, the ravished virgin a consenting, trembling virgin’. (p1139). 

Poor Valjean has a sort of breakdown. He has existed and avoided prison for the sake of Cossette, his conscious tells him it is time to ‘give himself up’, metaphorically if not literally. He confesses to Marius that he is an ex-convict and tells him his story, but only the parts of it that show him in the worst light. Although he is not strong enough to part hastily from Cossette, he ensures that Marius will discourage her from seeing him and Cossette seems to let him. Although here Marius is probably just acting as an instrument of the plot so that there can be a loving reunion later on, the fact that he tries to separate father and daughter makes me like him even less, I think because I find him such a selfish character. As long as he’s got Cossette he’s happy and never mind anybody else. Hugo tries to paint him as worthy with the whole taking command at the barricade and the poverty that he suffered before for the sake of his principals, but really he can be like Gillenormand or Javert in love – just as ridiculously inflexible and judgemental. 

Valjean starts to separate himself more from Cossette, asking her to call him Monsieur Jean and address him as vous. He eventually stops meeting her, although he forlornly still goes to stand outside her house. Marius believes Val to have stolen the money that is Cos’s inheritance, so has encouraged them to separate. Cos is just too passive to do anything other than obey Marius, although she does wonder about Valjean.

Meanwhile, her beloved adoptive father is dying alone, having aged in appearance twenty years since Cossette got married. He has the bishop’s candlesticks and the clothes he first bought Cos next to him as symbols of why he has endured. He writes a last goodbye letter to her and to her husband, explaining that he has not stolen the money that he gave her as his inheritance and tells them how he earned it. He is in despair, thinking that he will die without ever seeing her again. 

Marius receives a letter, but it is not from his father-in-law, it is from our old friend the rascal Thenard (this time he has indeed abbreviated his name, but Marius sees through this straight away). He’s offering money in exchange for a secret. Marius duly invites him over and he turns up in disguise (to be fair, the man has been sentenced to death so is probably trying to keep sort of a low profile. Well, as much as a low profile that you can when your main source of income is begging letters and being a shady crook). Hugo describes where he got his incredible outfit from, from Shady Crooks Costume Shop where you can hire outfits out to remain incognito. As we know, Thenard is well-versed in changing his identity when it suits him, so it is not going that much further to hire an outfit to go with your new name.  The costume shop owner even has a dodgy title, ‘the Changer’, which I thought would make a great idea for a modern crime drama (although prosthetics would spoil the whole thing. No, the criminals have to go around in really strange looking outfits with only really basic methods of disguising themselves like make-up and two quills up your nose) . The trouble with his outfits is that they don’t fit and they are pretty worn out, and so Thenard looks quite peculiar and Marius doesn’t recognise him at first, particularly as he’s also changed his voice. He’s as oily and obsequious as Mr. Collins in P&P, all ‘Monsieur le Baron this’ and ‘Monsieur le Baron that.’ Marius is unimpressed.

Thenard wants money, lots of money to go and settle in America with his wife (sadly dead, although he doesn’t tell Marius that) and very beautiful daughter. And it is here that the web of lies and false assumptions he’s made start to unravel, along with Marius’s false assumptions about Valjean. He starts to tell Marius that his father-in-law is an ex-convict and is infuriated that Marius already knows. He tries to blackmail vast amounts of money out of Marius for a secret about Cos, but Marius refuses, so ends up trying to sell it to him for twenty francs. Marius unmasks him, but he carries on his pretence until he is given five hundred francs. But he is on his guard in some ways as he doesn’t realise who he is or what connection he already has to Marius and his family. 

Marius is disappointed that his father owed his life to such a scoundrel, but is also curious to find out where Val’s money came from. He tells Thenard that Val robbed Monsieur Madeleine and murdered Javert. For once Thenard tells the truth, that Valjean was Madeleine and Javert killed himself and he has newspaper reports to prove it.  Marius is overjoyed, but Thenard hasn’t finished yet. He tells Marius of his encounter with Valjean in the sewer (carefully leaving out that the key holder was himself and changing the story to Valjean threatening the man to get the key). He also presents Marius with the bit of coat that he stole from him, so Marius knows the real truth of who rescued him.

Marius furiously flings lots of banknotes at him to get rid of him, at which point Thenard disappears to America with Azelma to begin a new life as a slave-trader. So, he never got his come-uppance but then he is one of the characters that you almost root for in their villainy. He’s awful, yet you admire his brazenness and ability to come out on top when all the odds are against him. And yes, he is a comic character.

And so Marius grabs his wife and sets off to see his father-in-law, whom he has completely changed his image of: ‘He was beside himself, seeing in Jean Valjean a figure of indescribable stature, supremely great and gently humble in his immensity, the convict transformed into Christ.’ (p1192). Cos has no idea what is happening, but Marius is determined to bring Valjean home to live with them. 

There is a tearful reunion and everyone forgives everyone else. Marius even admits to being a ‘graceless, pitiless clod’ (p1194). Valjean knows that he is going to die and it is quite a moving scene where Cossette describes how they will all live together happily, but Valjean is resigned to death but very grateful to God that he has seen her one last time. He remembers Cossette’s childhood and tells her who her mother is, describing her: ‘She was as rich in sorrow as you are in happiness. That is how God evens things out.’ (p1200). He dies and his face is lit up by the light from the bishop’s candlesticks, by this we are assured that Valjean is on his way to heaven to meet with the bishop, and, as Hugo tells us, his grave is still there, unadorned as he wished it, but with a poem written in chalk that has been worn away. A fitting end for a magnificent character, and a good, if tragic ending to a great book.  

Hugo Takes us on a Trip Down the Sewers and Javert has a Change of Heart

So, Valjean has ‘captured’ Marius, but Book 2 opens with Hugo’s familiar book-opening essay, this time on the exciting subject of sewers and sewerage. It’s not hard to guess where Valjean and Marius have gone. The sewers are associated with ‘the tomb’ and Marius is seriously injured. Either there is going to be a death or another re-birth. Hugo talks of the tomb of Marat, linking the story to the first revolution. Valjean is blinded by the dark, deaf and thinks he is in a different sewer so ends up lost. On his way, his is almost caught by the police who are pursuing a man. He steps on some soft, sinky stuff that gives way and almost drowns, but manages to rescue himself and Marius. He is almost about to leave the sewers in a break for freedom when he is stopped by a metal grille. He believes everything is lost and thinks only of Cossette.

Fortunately, before he can despair, our old friend Thenardier turns up, having been the many whom the police were chasing. Being in the dark he doesn’t recognise his old nemesis and being the rouge he is he assumes that Valjean is attempting to dispose of the body of a man he has robbed and murdered. He offers to’ go halves’, that is, he will unlock the grille with the handy key in his possession if Valjean will share half the booty. Thenard is not exactly in his element here. Hugo describes him as not seeming ‘quite at his ease’ (p1093) and Valjean is suspicious that he fears he’ll have to share with some other criminals. Anyway, he steals both all the money that is in Marius’s pockets and part of Marius’s coat (as evidence so he can later identify the body), but does uphold his side of the bargain by unlocking the grille and allowing Val to escape.

Into the path of Javert, who was waiting to capture Thenard. Val does not try to hide who he is, just gives himself up immediately but asks Jav to help him to take Marius home to his grandfather. They take him home and Val asks for one last favour, to be able to go home to see Cos. Hugo emphasises that his encounter with the bishop has caused him to abhor violence to the extent that he has no thought of committing suicide and is quite prepared to go back to prison. However, Javert disappears once Valjean has arrived home.

Meanwhile, Marius is lucky to be barely alive, having been saved from certain death by the combination of his own wallet and a man who hates him. Gillenormand (who I assume was previously rendered insensible rather than stunned into sudden death) is both distressed and outraged that he should die, believing that Marius has done it all for the sake of hating him when he has been ready and waiting to welcome him home. Thankfully, Marius wakes pretty shortly after Gillenormand has made plans to die as soon as possible.

The re-birth of Book 3 is mainly related to Marius I think. All that mooning over Cos was replaced by his taking change of the action at the barricade and he has ‘earned’ the love and respect of his grandfather and Cossette. He is re-born as a man who can take an active rather than passive role. Valjean is not significantly changed by his experience in the sewer, but this does seem to mark a kind of ‘waning’ of his story.

The other re-birth here is that of Javert, who has acted peculiarly since escaping from the barricade, and Hugo turns our attention to his fate in Book 4. It is a short, yet moving book.

It opens with a lovely description of how his posture has changed from having his arms folded in a posture of ‘expressive determination’ (p1104) to one where he walks with his hands folded behind his back and his head bowed, a thoughtful yet penitent pose. So far Hugo hasn’t really described how he feels towards what has happened, but here he describes how he felt when he saw Valjean: ‘When he had so unexpectedly encountered Jean Valjean on the edge of the river his feelings had been partly those of a wolf catching its prey and partly those of a dog finding its master.’ (p1104). Valjean has pretty mach always confused him as he doesn’t behave in a way that Javert expects and his mind can’t handle that there is more than one path in life. He knows that although Valjean is a criminal, he is also the greater man: ‘Something dreadful was forcing its way into Javert’s consciousness – admiration for a convicted felon.’ (p1106).  Javert responds to the mercy that Valjean has given by giving mercy in return. The old certainty he felt has gone and it has profoundly changed his personality. As Hugo says, he has failed to be above reproach. In the process, he has opened up his heart to God and realised that society and lawgivers are not perfect and infallible.

He returns to the police-post, leaving some tips that he believes will improve the police service (also to show a little mercy and prevent some of the corruption going on in the prison). He is a methodical as always. Then he goes down to the river, takes off his hat and drowns himself.

Javert, I salute you. You were a fine character, but alas, there wasn’t really anywhere else you could’ve gone other than to the big police station in the sky. You could’ve hardly had some sort of happy ending with a lovely Mrs. Javert somewhere or gone on catching only the bad criminals whilst letting Valjean off, particularly with the short length of the book left. No, you were punished for your previous inflexibility and lack of mercy (although I wish you could’ve somehow subsequently arrested Thenard, maybe there is room here for a ‘Javert haunts Thenardier’ kind of a sequel).  You were a formidable police chief who rose from humble beginnings as the son of criminals, and whilst condemning you for being a bit of a git, we did sleep better in our beds knowing you were out there catching criminals.

Next up, the end of the book, the tying up of the many loose ends left and some sticky sickly stuff.

The June Rebellion

Meanwhile, Cos and Valjean prepare to head to England where they can hide away from his past and the dreaded Revolution, which is undoubtedly doing nothing for anyone who is relatively prosperous or ‘Bourgeois’.  Not that Hugo has described any of this from the point of view of say the owner of the Corinth tavern, who has had his or her property invaded and destroyed by a bunch of over-enthusiastic student protestors, street urchins, an imprisoned police officer and a few dead bodies. Nor has Valjean in fact noticed that there is a revolution going on around him, he’s too busy mooning over Cos (in a fatherly way of course). 

But, horror of horrors! He examines her blotter and discovers the message she wrote telling Marius where she’s going. He completely over-reacts and suffers some sort of ‘spiritual collapse’ (p975). Having had nothing or no-one to love in his entire life, he has become completely fixated on her and cannot comprehend sharing her with anyone. He develops a sort of a hatred for Marius (albeit the sort of hatred that entails him heading to the barricade to save Marius’s life). He goes out and encounters Gavroche, who is smashing street lamps, and there is a lovely little scene between him and Valjean where the old man tries to give him a five franc piece out of charity, but Gavroche doesn’t want to accept it as he fears that Valjean is trying to bribe him to stop smashing the lamps. Five francs is an enormous sum to the urchin and he spends some time admiring it as some sort of museum piece until Valjean gets him to take it. Gavroche  gives him Marius’s letter then rushes back to the barricade, feeling slightly guilty he’s given the letter to a random rather than the person he was supposed to give it to. 

They both head to the barricade, Valjean dressed in his National Guarde uniform. The old man is triumphant Marius is about to die, then gloomy again (I think he knows in his heart nothing is ever going to be the same as far as he’s concerned and probably deep down realises that he’s being horrible to Marius, even though Marius is hardly a worthy suitor).

On the way back Gavroche ‘borrows’ a hand-card and causes chaos after he smashes it into a sergeant in the course of escaping. Hugo thus amusingly explains the legend of ‘Night attack on the post of Imprimerie Royale.’

Part five opens with another lecture on the revolution and on the barricades. Marius and the rest of the revolutionaries rebuild the barricades and there is a sense of relief, a kind of barracks humour before the main ‘battle’. Again, Hugo anchors the narrative in history, this time with Feiully carving “Long live the people!” on the beam in the tavern, which is apparently still there in 1848. The narrator compares the barricade to ‘a ship in distress’ (p995). Enjorlas realises that they are significantly outnumbered, having been abandoned by most of their supporters, and that they will probably all die. He argues that the men with families who will be missed should withdraw from the battle (as if they don’t look after their women, their women will be unable to support themselves and will be forced to turn to prostitution and their babies will end up on the streets), and five men are forcibly ‘volunteered’ to withdraw. He urges them not to be ‘egoists’, although Hugo points out that he is one himself.

  

Hugo returns to his maritime metaphors describing Marius’s feelings: ‘the depths of despair’, ‘his own personal shipwreck’ and ‘deeply sunk’ (p1000).

However, there are only four uniforms (of National Guarde) that will enable the non-egoists to escape. Luckily, Val turns up at exactly the right time and flings his own uniform onto the table in a suitably dramatic way. He is about to be thrown out or certainly challenged when Marius vouches for him. Enjorlas makes a grand,l stirring speech which I can’t really be bothered to analyse, I think there has been so much preaching in the book so far more preaching starts to pass you by after a while. He speaks to Javert who is still stoic in the face of death, but asks if he can be tied to a table instead of a post, which Enjorlas agrees to.

The army begins firing cannons at the barricade and Gavroche comes back from his errand, much to Marius’s horror. Although Valjean knows very little about what is going on as far as the revolution is concerned, he still volunteers to defend them, risking his life but in a way that does as little harm to the other side as possible. The revolutionaries get all weepy about killing a dashing young sergeant, I think this must be Hugo’s way of showing that they still have feelings and want to be merciful, even though they are in desperate peril. It comes across as being rather odd, like they only want to spare attractive people because of their attractiveness. 

Meanwhile, Cos is getting up in her girlish bedroom, unaware of the danger Marius is in. In some luridly prudish prose Hugo skirts around the issue of her dishabille, complete with symbolic buds and opening flowers, along with bosoms, shoulders, undergarments and ‘shivers of cold and modesty’ (p1017). It is quite an odd, voyeuristic passage showing how Hugo is evidently the kind of man who likes to put young, chaste girls on the very highest of pedestals. I do tend to find Cossette quite a disappointing character; I suppose I’d like her to show some of the strength she should have developed in growing up and perhaps have some sort of fight with Eponine over Marius. Instead, she is a worthy partner for Marius in her insipidness. She never really gets the chance to develop as anything other than an irritating clotheshorse who exists mainly as the subject of Marius and Valjean’s emotions, she is what they make her. 

Back to the barricade and some more defenders have been shot and killed. They are also running out of ammo, so Gavroche goes to get some more from the fallen attackers. He goes out bravely, singing as he has done throughout the book and in the process is shot and killed. 

The narrative swiftly moves to his brothers, who have sneaked into the Luxembourg Gardens since the rich people have turned their backs for a moment. They are becoming true street urchins and are starving hungry. A man is walking there with his son who is obviously well-fed and toying with a bun that he is not really hungry for. The father advises him to throw it for the swan, they leave and a fight nearly breaks out between the swan and the older Thenard brother who goes after it, sharing it with his brother. Although he does give the larger piece to his brother, evidently affected by the rough kindness Gavroche showed them. 

At the barricade Valjean offers to blow Javert’s brains out, but just as he is about to do it Enjorlas and gang go back outside to join the fighting. Valjean frees Javert, giving him his address and covering up the fact that he is still alive (only Marius knows). We don’t know what Valjean is thinking at this point, in fact Hugo doesn’t describe his emotions from the time he left home to head towards the barricade. There is another essay, then back to the battle. The tavern is ruined and most of ABC have been killed ‘off stage’, as heroically as possible. Only Marius and Enjorlas are left, and Marius has already been wounded. Marius is then more seriously injured and disappears, apparently arrested. The remains of ABC run out of bullets and use anything as weapons. Enjorlas is captured, he and Grantaire (who has just woken up) are shot and killed (they really should’ve left the handsome sergeant alone, apparently the army were using him as some sort of handsome mascot and are pretty pissed he got shot).  We discover that Valjean has ‘captured’ Marius and taken him away.

So, there is the June Rebellion and the end of the ABC Society, along with half of the Thenardier family (having finished the book now I know that the two boys are not in the rest of it, they’ve disappeared). After all that preaching about it, it is somewhat surprising that it ends so abruptly, but then it only lasted a total of two days. Hugo is fine at building tension and excitement (although he did really need to cut down on the windbagging and speechifying), but was not that fantastic at death scenes, at least not in this book. I wonder if it is lost in translation or if it really does just end up mostly a list of people getting shot with barely an emotion in sight? 

Anyway, this seemed to be a good place to stop as next we have a riveting essay on sewerage on sewers before we find out what Valjean is going to do with Marius.