| Les Miserables - Victor Hugo It's pretty common knowledge that this is one of the best novels ever written, and I totally agree. Hugo has a keen eye, a passion for the human situation. But what sets Hugo and Les Mis apart is his ability to manage so much so well. This novel is massive, and I'm not talking about the number of pages. It envelopes life and death, heaven and earth, love and hate, good and evil, and all else under the sun. Les Miserables is truly epic, which is truly remarkable. The plot is absolutely compelling, from beginning to end. The story of Jean Valjean is a universal story, and his transformation should resonate with every spirit. The characters swirling around him are deeply poignant, passionate, and complete. Like Dickens (and few others), Hugo knows how to pull characters' plights together in a huge and complex world without pushing the envelope of believability(well, mostly.). When Thenardier seeks to blackmail a rich man, you want it to be Valjean. And when Marius goes for the police to capture Thenardier, you know he will meet Javert. And as each character's thread spins out toward its end, the endings are complete and satisfying, perhaps inevitable. Funny how life is like that. Having said that, I would recommend an abridged version of the novel to any but a devoted French historian. Hugo is in love with France, and carries an encyclopedia in his brain. For this (fairly well-read) layman, many of his 30-70 page long tangents into such topics as the details of current events of 1817, battle strategy at Waterloo, the history of the Parisian sewer, and the street language of Paris, are all but indecipherable. I'm definitely not a fan of abridged editions of anything, but in this case, I have to make an exception. I hope that there is a good one out there that cuts none of the plot and description, but declares, "Death to the Tangent!" That would be beautiful. A sample of Hugo's writing: "Algebra applies to the clouds; the radiance of the star benefits the rose; no thinker would dare to say that the perfume of the hawthorn is useless to the constellations. Who could ever calculate the path of a molecule? How do we know that the creations of worlds are not determined by falling grains of sand? Who can understand the reciprocal ebb and flow of the infinitely great an the infinitely small, the echoing of causes in the abyss of being and the avalanches of creation? A mite has value; the small is great, the great is small, all is balanced in necessity; frightening vision for the mind. There are marvelous relations between beings and things; in this inexhaustible whole, from sun to grub, there is no scorn; each needs the other." |