I am STILL reading Les Miserables. I'm nearly seven hundred pages in, which is a little over halfway through. I've been reading for about a week and a half, and I'm just going to go right ahead and toot my own horn here - it is extremely unusual for it to take me so long to read as much as I've read. I don't spend as much time reading as I used to, but I can still blow through a five-hundred page novel in a couple days if I've got the time and motivation to do it. But there's no blowing through Les Mis. There just isn't. It constantly requires me to slow down, to go back, sometimes because I'm not sure I read something right, sometimes because Hugo's sentences tend to involve about sixteen commas when he's really worked up, and sometimes just because I particularly liked something and want to read it again. It doesn't require the level of attention that, say, Shakespeare needs, but it's not just a book, either. It's eating my brain and I keep talking about it because I need to process it somehow. It's exhausting and exciting, and I know how this sounds, but I kind of understand why people call it life-changing. This is not a casual reading experience.
Of course, because I am me, I also have to point out that it is completely ridiculous. When last we met, I was gleefully expounding upon Valjean's daring escape from the courtroom following his confession via the simple expedient of walking out while people stared at him slack-jawed. Since then, he has scaled a fifteen-foot wall with his bare hands and almost been buried alive. And those are only a couple of the highlights. I don't want to give EVERYTHING away.
But let us not forget Javert! His superpowers are even cooler. Check it out:
Thenardier took hold of the pistol and aimed it at Javert. Javert, who was only three feet away, looked him steadily in the eye and merely said: "Don't shoot, please! You'll miss."
Thenardier pulled the trigger. He missed.
"What did I tell you!" said Javert.
Sure, Valjean is alarmingly strong and can climb walls with his bare hands, but Javert can dodge bullets from three feet away without moving. RIDICULOUS. I may be a little bit in love with Victor Hugo for so brazenly putting that in there, without any explanation whatsoever.
And of course, heightening the COMPLETE INSANITY of the plot are the constant digressions, where Hugo is mostly quite seriously discussing his philosophical beliefs or offering a detailed history lesson. The section following Javert the Supercop, for example, is thirty pages about a revolution in 1830 that didn't quite happen. Valjean's exploits in wall-climbing and near-death by burial are broken up by twenty pages of history on a (fictional, but only because Hugo decided not to use a real one for fear of causing offense) convent, followed by another ten on the evils of convents. The total clash between crazed melodrama and Srs Bzns just makes everything so much more amazing. Yes, they complement each other thematically as well, and the digressions always provide background and color that, even if they don't directly relate to the plot, still support and flesh out the story. But. Also hilarity. And I'm pretty sure Hugo is in on the joke.
I love this book so hard.
Of course, because I am me, I also have to point out that it is completely ridiculous. When last we met, I was gleefully expounding upon Valjean's daring escape from the courtroom following his confession via the simple expedient of walking out while people stared at him slack-jawed. Since then, he has scaled a fifteen-foot wall with his bare hands and almost been buried alive. And those are only a couple of the highlights. I don't want to give EVERYTHING away.
But let us not forget Javert! His superpowers are even cooler. Check it out:
Thenardier took hold of the pistol and aimed it at Javert. Javert, who was only three feet away, looked him steadily in the eye and merely said: "Don't shoot, please! You'll miss."
Thenardier pulled the trigger. He missed.
"What did I tell you!" said Javert.
Sure, Valjean is alarmingly strong and can climb walls with his bare hands, but Javert can dodge bullets from three feet away without moving. RIDICULOUS. I may be a little bit in love with Victor Hugo for so brazenly putting that in there, without any explanation whatsoever.
And of course, heightening the COMPLETE INSANITY of the plot are the constant digressions, where Hugo is mostly quite seriously discussing his philosophical beliefs or offering a detailed history lesson. The section following Javert the Supercop, for example, is thirty pages about a revolution in 1830 that didn't quite happen. Valjean's exploits in wall-climbing and near-death by burial are broken up by twenty pages of history on a (fictional, but only because Hugo decided not to use a real one for fear of causing offense) convent, followed by another ten on the evils of convents. The total clash between crazed melodrama and Srs Bzns just makes everything so much more amazing. Yes, they complement each other thematically as well, and the digressions always provide background and color that, even if they don't directly relate to the plot, still support and flesh out the story. But. Also hilarity. And I'm pretty sure Hugo is in on the joke.
I love this book so hard.
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