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2024
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"And the book did indeed become a Bible to me, a surer guide than that other Bible written by God himself, as the nuns had taught. For I knew nothing of Israelites or the building of pyramids or the parting of seas. But I knew about girls who scrubbed floors and grew sooty sleeping near the hearth, and fish who gave you wishes (although I had never been given one)..."
I have to admit that the mention of airplanes was pretty jarring; I didn't think "And the book did indeed become a Bible to me, a surer guide than that other Bible written by God himself, as the nuns had taught. For I knew nothing of Israelites or the building of pyramids or the parting of seas. But I knew about girls who scrubbed floors and grew sooty sleeping near the hearth, and fish who gave you wishes (although I had never been given one)..."
I have to admit that the mention of airplanes was pretty jarring; I didn't think the setting was medieval exactly (despite the very medieval imagery--Klara was raised in a literal convent and then sent to work in a castle for Pete's sake), but perhaps no later than 18th century, when fairy tales were first becoming popular among royal courts in their written form. (I also thought it MAYBE could get away with 19th century if we were really pushing it, which would actually fit the best with the ballgown depicted in the gorgeous illustration.) Regardless, I really wasn't picturing 1930s territory, so you can only imagine my surprise when they start mentioning automobiles and bobbed hair and the Reich and a second war.
Initially when I thought the story was taking place "once upon a time," the simplistic language worked for me, because traditional fairy tales are generally quite unembellished, short and sweet; they get straight to the point and don't really bother with dramatization or description or character development, and that was the style that I thought the author was emulating. But once I started realizing, "Ohhh, this is literally the 1930s," the simple language and lack of tension, description, or buildup was a little harder to tolerate. I especially wish that the pacing had been slowed down at the most important plot points; I mean someone (view spoiler)[literally gets killed in the middle of the story, and about half a paragraph is devoted to the entire murder. (hide spoiler)] There's very little buildup or suspense; everything, even the big moments, unfolded at the same even pace, which I didn't really like. It made the story feel rather unexciting, like I was going through the motions.
However, I still really like the whole idea of the story. Although I don't exactly prefer the writing style, I still appreciate what the author was trying to do by emulating traditional fairy tales; I also think Klara's voice was really distinct, especially in the beginning. Another thing I liked was the nod to the black-red-white tricolor motif present in a lot of fairy tales with the objects that the "princess" supposedly received from the Old Woman of the Forest. It's overall a neat little story, but I can't help but wish it was a little more fleshed out. (If I wanted to be punny, I'd say that I wished there'd been a little more flesh and blood on those bones.) ...more
I have to admit that the mention of airplanes was pretty jarring; I didn't think "And the book did indeed become a Bible to me, a surer guide than that other Bible written by God himself, as the nuns had taught. For I knew nothing of Israelites or the building of pyramids or the parting of seas. But I knew about girls who scrubbed floors and grew sooty sleeping near the hearth, and fish who gave you wishes (although I had never been given one)..."
I have to admit that the mention of airplanes was pretty jarring; I didn't think the setting was medieval exactly (despite the very medieval imagery--Klara was raised in a literal convent and then sent to work in a castle for Pete's sake), but perhaps no later than 18th century, when fairy tales were first becoming popular among royal courts in their written form. (I also thought it MAYBE could get away with 19th century if we were really pushing it, which would actually fit the best with the ballgown depicted in the gorgeous illustration.) Regardless, I really wasn't picturing 1930s territory, so you can only imagine my surprise when they start mentioning automobiles and bobbed hair and the Reich and a second war.
Initially when I thought the story was taking place "once upon a time," the simplistic language worked for me, because traditional fairy tales are generally quite unembellished, short and sweet; they get straight to the point and don't really bother with dramatization or description or character development, and that was the style that I thought the author was emulating. But once I started realizing, "Ohhh, this is literally the 1930s," the simple language and lack of tension, description, or buildup was a little harder to tolerate. I especially wish that the pacing had been slowed down at the most important plot points; I mean someone (view spoiler)[literally gets killed in the middle of the story, and about half a paragraph is devoted to the entire murder. (hide spoiler)] There's very little buildup or suspense; everything, even the big moments, unfolded at the same even pace, which I didn't really like. It made the story feel rather unexciting, like I was going through the motions.
However, I still really like the whole idea of the story. Although I don't exactly prefer the writing style, I still appreciate what the author was trying to do by emulating traditional fairy tales; I also think Klara's voice was really distinct, especially in the beginning. Another thing I liked was the nod to the black-red-white tricolor motif present in a lot of fairy tales with the objects that the "princess" supposedly received from the Old Woman of the Forest. It's overall a neat little story, but I can't help but wish it was a little more fleshed out. (If I wanted to be punny, I'd say that I wished there'd been a little more flesh and blood on those bones.) ...more
"Above all things, do not degenerate into a man."
There were things I liked about this book. Unfortunately, those things ended up being fewer and farther between as my reading experience progressed. And progressed. And progressed. It's unfortunate because the book started off so strong. I found myself gripped by the opening chapters and fascinated by the character of Ursus, a sort of Renaissance man who, among other things, is something of a physi "Above all things, do not degenerate into a man."
There were things I liked about this book. Unfortunately, those things ended up being fewer and farther between as my reading experience progressed. And progressed. And progressed. It's unfortunate because the book started off so strong. I found myself gripped by the opening chapters and fascinated by the character of Ursus, a sort of Renaissance man who, among other things, is something of a physician. He starts the story as a misanthrope who disdains humankind and views treating his patients as a means of punishing them with the curse of having to go on living. That's a really interesting paradox that we never get to see the story examine or play around with, because after Ursus adopts Gwynplaine and Dea, he goes on to become a loving father. That's fine; it certainly could have made for an interesting character arc, but we don't actually get to experience it because it takes place during a 15 year time skip, and the reader is left to fill in the blanks themselves.
I also really liked the character of Josiana. She's nothing if not a contradiction: she's seductive, yet a virgin; she's outwardly beautiful, yet inwardly monstrous; she's lofty, yet fascinated by things that are abject and repulsive. She's unattainable to others because her standards are so high. She's difficult to amuse because she's seen everything that her life of wealth has to offer, and she has the privilege to be picky with her affection because no one is good enough for her. And yet, it is the deformed and mutilated Gwynplaine that attracts her and whom she desperately beseeches to become her lover, even going so far as to tell him to "'Do what you like with me...Insult me, beat me, kick me, cuff me, treat me like a brute ! I adore you.'" And the whole time she's professing her love to him, Josiana is also insulting Gwynplaine, repeatedly reminding him--as if he needs any reminder--of how hideous he is. It sounds like Josiana is a sadomasochist, which is a super interesting way to portray a female character, and a duchess at that, considering when this book came out. But just when we're getting to the good part, with Josiana and Gwynplaine seemingly moments away from giving in to desire, Josiana receives a letter telling her that she must marry Gwynplaine now that he's a member of the peerage, and this causes her to lose all the interest she had in him: she only wanted him when it was something scandalous. After that, she walks out and is never seen again. Why Hugo did that to the only interesting female character in the book, I do not know. And why he built up this whole love affair between her and Gwynplaine, and, in turn, Gwynplaine's betrayal of Dea, only to completely drop it altogether, I really don't know. I wish I could ask him!
This is where I thought the story was going: Gwynplaine was going to have a sexual relationship with Josiana and fall in love with her, or, if not, at least become intensely infatuated with her. Dea was somehow going to find out, and she would die of a broken heart, leaving Gwynplaine to have to contend with his subsequent guilt. I feel that this would have not only made for a more interesting tragedy, with Gwynplaine's hamartia being that he allows himself to succumb to temptation due to his newfound nobility; but it would have also made for a more interesting way to drive home the themes of the book, one of them being that wealth and power are drivers of corruption.
The actual way that the rest of the story plays out is quite dull. I didn't care for Gwynplaine's speech in the House of Lords because, despite being well-written, we haven't actually seen Gwynplaine witness or experience any of the hardships of poverty that he describes to them. I don't care about Dea (view spoiler)[dying (hide spoiler)] because she's a flimsy little wisp of a character whose only traits are that she's innocent and pure and ethereal and weak and in love with Gwynplaine oh so fragile--you'd think that she's made of tissue paper or snow crystals by the way that Hugo describes how delicate she is. Did I mention that she's in love with Gwynplaine? That's Dea's defining motivation throughout the story, if you can even call it one, because it's not as if it drives her to any sort of action. And I'm sorry, but I couldn't stand the way she and Gwynplaine interact:
¡°The tea is too hot; you will burn yourself, Dea.¡±
¡°Blow on my cup.¡±
¡°How beautiful you are this morning!¡±
¡°Do you know that I have a great many things to say to you ?"
¡°Say them.¡±
¡°I love you.¡±
¡°I adore you.¡±
Like holy crap these two are annoying. This is why I was rooting for Gwynplaine to cheat on her with Josiana. (view spoiler)[And why I was glad when they died--which, by the way, only happens because Dea thinks she will never see Gwyn again and becomes so sick over his absence--remember, guys, she's frail and delicate!--that she literally dies, because CLEARLY living without him for more than a day is out of the question, and Gwynplaine kills himself immediately afterward. Like not even 10 minutes later. Can these two get a SINGLE grip? (hide spoiler)]
And, I'm sorry, but their relationship is also creepy. For one, Dea is 16 and Gwynplaine is almost 25. I get that that might not have been so weird in 1869, when the story was published; and it was probably even less weird in 1690, when the main part of the story takes place. But the age difference isn't even the creepiest part. The creepier part is that they're basically raised as brother and sister, and both consider Ursus their adoptive father, because that's what he is. That makes them adoptive siblings. This is a very gothic trope wherein characters engage in borderline incest, but it's usually considered acceptable only because the couple isn't related by blood: you see it in Frankenstein with Victor and Elizabeth, and in Wuthering Heights with Cathy and Heathcliff. (Actual incest is another gothic trope, but that tends to be the case when it's used to deliberately horrify the reader.)
And Hugo has a fun time reminding us of this fact:
"Gwynplaine was her brother, friend, guide, support; the personification of heavenly power, the husband, winged and resplendent."
"Dea was his sister...Dea, when he was a little child was his virgin; because every child has his virgin, and at the commencement of life a marriage of souls is always consummated in the plenitude of innocence. Dea was his wife..." (Can someone please explain to me what "every child has his virgin" means and how that isn't absolutely horrifying wording????? Is something wrong with my translation perhaps???)
Then there's this passage, which came right after I thought to myself, "Surely there's no way Hugo is going to make 10-year old Gwynplaine rescuing the INFANT DEA romantic, because that would just be SUPER WEIRD, right?":
"The little boy and girl, lying naked side by side, were joined through the silent hours, in the seraphic promiscuousness of the shadows; such dreams as were possible to their age floated from one to the other beneath their closed eyelids there shone, perhaps, a starlight; if the word marriage were not inappropriate to the situation, they were husband and wife after the fashion of the angels. Such innocence in such darkness, such purity in such an embrace, such foretastes of heaven are possible only to childhood, and no immensity approaches the greatness of little children."
And then he goes on to actually literally sexualize it:
"...for it may be remembered that on their wedding night she was nine months and he ten years old." MAKE IT STOP.
(Also is it just me or is the math not mathing? He's 24 about to be 25 and she's 16....but if he was 10 when she was 9 months, that means he's at least 9, if not 10 yrs older than her depending on their birthdays. If he's 24 turning 25, she should be 15 currently, no? Not sure if my translation got that wrong.)
Oh, but that isn't even the creepiest part!
Adult Gwynplaine getting turned on by child Dea is the creepiest part!:
"One fine day, whilst Dea was still very little, Gwynplaine felt himself grown up, and it was in the youth that shame arose. He said to Ursus, 'I will also sleep on the floor.' And at night he stretched himself, with the old man, on the bear skin. Then Dea wept. She cried for her bedfellow; but Gwynplaine, become restless because he had begun to love, decided to remain where he was."
I'M SORRY--WHEN SHE WAS HOW LITTLE?
"When thirteen Dea had not yet become resigned to the arrangement. Often in the evening she said, 'Gwynplaine, come close to me; that will put me to sleep.' A man lying by her side was a necessity to her innocent slumbers."--HE WOULD'VE BEEN 22!!!!---"Dea untaught, made Gwynplaine wild. Sometimes it happened that Dea, when almost reaching youth, combed her long hair as she sat on her bed¡ªher chemise unfastened and falling off revealed indications of a feminine outline, and a vague commencement of Eve¡ªand would call Gwynplaine. Gwynplaine blushed, lowered his eyes, and knew not what to do in presence of this innocent creature. Stammering, he turned his head, feared, and fled."
I ACTUALLY HATE IT HERE!!!
There are other problems with this book as well. There's a ton of casual sexism that I don't feel like getting into beyond what I've already touched upon with Dea, but just know that Victor Hugo thought the thing that made women powerful is their "feminine weakness" (in contrast to the physical "robustness" of men) and that women are most dangerous (to men) when naked--even when they're being spied upon, in their sleep, without their knowledge or consent by a peeping tom, which is exactly what Gwyn does to Josiana! Because everyone knows that even when they're literally unconscious and not even trying, women are just natural temptresses who have men succumbing to sin left and right!
There's quite a bit of disgusting antisemitism and racism as well, the latter especially being directed towards two Romani characters, Venus and Phoebe, who are described as "stupidly obedient," ugly, uncouth and wild. Victor Hugo really doesn't like Romani people, but from reading Notre Dame de Paris, I already knew that. There's also this mess of a line: "A Hottentot profile cannot be changed into a Roman outline, but out of a Grecian nose you may make a Calinuck¡¯s." Yikes!
Aside from all of that, everything is just very melodramatic, even by Victorian standards. I think I have a pretty high tolerance for melodrama because I actually like it. That's why I'm a fan of classics, and especially gothic fiction, in the first place. They're just teeming with melodrama. The action tends to get a little ridiculous sometimes and I just love it. But I simply couldn't stand the melodrama in this book, especially by the end. It just gets TOO SILLY. And it's made all the more torturous by how long-winded the prose is! Hugo goes on and on describing the same things in different ways for PAGES AND PAGES and it's EXHAUSTING. And yet very little actually happens in terms of plot--the actual "plot," mind you, doesn't even commence until over a hundred pages in! This absolutely did NOT need to be over 500 pages. (I don't care how many rows of benches are in the House of Lords!)
The problem is that the book is just full of bloat. Gwynplaine is challenged to a duel right around the time when you'd expect the book to be building towards a climax, and nothing actually comes of it; in fact, it gets skipped over completely. Why make this grand reveal that the man challenging him is his brother, only for the duel to literally not matter? Similarly, Barkilphedro's whole scheme to "bring about Josiana's downfall" by humiliating her with a marriage to Gwynplaine is ultimately inconsequential, except for the fact that Gwyn and Dea's temporary separation is enough to make them (view spoiler)[both die in the end (hide spoiler)]. I mean genuinely, what was the point of Barkilphedro's character? His scheme goes nowehere, as does Josiana's scheme to make Gwynplaine her lover. Why were these characters built up so much only to completely disappear before the end? Are they meant to be some kind of red herring? Hugo could have taken these two characters out and the subplot surrounding them, and the story could have remained essentially the same. It would've been more boring without Josiana, but at least I wouldn't have gotten my hopes up over seeing more of her character only to have her taken away from me. Josiana is by far the most interesting character to me, so it's too bad that she's reduced to a temptress who disappears after her only interaction with the main character. Speaking of...
Gwynplaine is a passive protagonist. The events of the story are boring to read because they merely consist of things HAPPENING TO him. He doesn't truly do anything: he wants to marry Dea (his adoptive teenage sister), but doesn't propose to her; he wants to sleep with Josiana but, after being seduced BY her, doesn't pursue it further when he loses the opportunity; he is whisked away to prison to be questioned, then whisked away to a grand palace after learning that he's a member of the nobility, then whisked away to the House of Lords to participate in a vote. His speech is the only real moment of action from him. He is challenged to a duel by someone else, follows Homo the wolf to find Dea and Ursus instead of just deciding to search for them himself (he was about to (view spoiler)[kill himself instead when he thought they were gone forever (hide spoiler)]), receives the invitation to meet with Josiana--and doesn't actually follow through with it! They only meet at the palace by chance!--etc etc. It's never him who affects real change in the story. Really the book is plotless. There are events that happen and indirectly lead into one another, but there's no true sense of direction, and it all feels so aimless.
The only reason this gets 2 stars instead of 1 is because of some truly beautiful prose, which I can only imagine is even more beautiful in its original French. Otherwise, I seriously didn't like this. I really hope Les Mis isn't this disappointing. ...more
There were things I liked about this book. Unfortunately, those things ended up being fewer and farther between as my reading experience progressed. And progressed. And progressed. It's unfortunate because the book started off so strong. I found myself gripped by the opening chapters and fascinated by the character of Ursus, a sort of Renaissance man who, among other things, is something of a physi "Above all things, do not degenerate into a man."
There were things I liked about this book. Unfortunately, those things ended up being fewer and farther between as my reading experience progressed. And progressed. And progressed. It's unfortunate because the book started off so strong. I found myself gripped by the opening chapters and fascinated by the character of Ursus, a sort of Renaissance man who, among other things, is something of a physician. He starts the story as a misanthrope who disdains humankind and views treating his patients as a means of punishing them with the curse of having to go on living. That's a really interesting paradox that we never get to see the story examine or play around with, because after Ursus adopts Gwynplaine and Dea, he goes on to become a loving father. That's fine; it certainly could have made for an interesting character arc, but we don't actually get to experience it because it takes place during a 15 year time skip, and the reader is left to fill in the blanks themselves.
I also really liked the character of Josiana. She's nothing if not a contradiction: she's seductive, yet a virgin; she's outwardly beautiful, yet inwardly monstrous; she's lofty, yet fascinated by things that are abject and repulsive. She's unattainable to others because her standards are so high. She's difficult to amuse because she's seen everything that her life of wealth has to offer, and she has the privilege to be picky with her affection because no one is good enough for her. And yet, it is the deformed and mutilated Gwynplaine that attracts her and whom she desperately beseeches to become her lover, even going so far as to tell him to "'Do what you like with me...Insult me, beat me, kick me, cuff me, treat me like a brute ! I adore you.'" And the whole time she's professing her love to him, Josiana is also insulting Gwynplaine, repeatedly reminding him--as if he needs any reminder--of how hideous he is. It sounds like Josiana is a sadomasochist, which is a super interesting way to portray a female character, and a duchess at that, considering when this book came out. But just when we're getting to the good part, with Josiana and Gwynplaine seemingly moments away from giving in to desire, Josiana receives a letter telling her that she must marry Gwynplaine now that he's a member of the peerage, and this causes her to lose all the interest she had in him: she only wanted him when it was something scandalous. After that, she walks out and is never seen again. Why Hugo did that to the only interesting female character in the book, I do not know. And why he built up this whole love affair between her and Gwynplaine, and, in turn, Gwynplaine's betrayal of Dea, only to completely drop it altogether, I really don't know. I wish I could ask him!
This is where I thought the story was going: Gwynplaine was going to have a sexual relationship with Josiana and fall in love with her, or, if not, at least become intensely infatuated with her. Dea was somehow going to find out, and she would die of a broken heart, leaving Gwynplaine to have to contend with his subsequent guilt. I feel that this would have not only made for a more interesting tragedy, with Gwynplaine's hamartia being that he allows himself to succumb to temptation due to his newfound nobility; but it would have also made for a more interesting way to drive home the themes of the book, one of them being that wealth and power are drivers of corruption.
The actual way that the rest of the story plays out is quite dull. I didn't care for Gwynplaine's speech in the House of Lords because, despite being well-written, we haven't actually seen Gwynplaine witness or experience any of the hardships of poverty that he describes to them. I don't care about Dea (view spoiler)[dying (hide spoiler)] because she's a flimsy little wisp of a character whose only traits are that she's innocent and pure and ethereal and weak and in love with Gwynplaine oh so fragile--you'd think that she's made of tissue paper or snow crystals by the way that Hugo describes how delicate she is. Did I mention that she's in love with Gwynplaine? That's Dea's defining motivation throughout the story, if you can even call it one, because it's not as if it drives her to any sort of action. And I'm sorry, but I couldn't stand the way she and Gwynplaine interact:
¡°The tea is too hot; you will burn yourself, Dea.¡±
¡°Blow on my cup.¡±
¡°How beautiful you are this morning!¡±
¡°Do you know that I have a great many things to say to you ?"
¡°Say them.¡±
¡°I love you.¡±
¡°I adore you.¡±
Like holy crap these two are annoying. This is why I was rooting for Gwynplaine to cheat on her with Josiana. (view spoiler)[And why I was glad when they died--which, by the way, only happens because Dea thinks she will never see Gwyn again and becomes so sick over his absence--remember, guys, she's frail and delicate!--that she literally dies, because CLEARLY living without him for more than a day is out of the question, and Gwynplaine kills himself immediately afterward. Like not even 10 minutes later. Can these two get a SINGLE grip? (hide spoiler)]
And, I'm sorry, but their relationship is also creepy. For one, Dea is 16 and Gwynplaine is almost 25. I get that that might not have been so weird in 1869, when the story was published; and it was probably even less weird in 1690, when the main part of the story takes place. But the age difference isn't even the creepiest part. The creepier part is that they're basically raised as brother and sister, and both consider Ursus their adoptive father, because that's what he is. That makes them adoptive siblings. This is a very gothic trope wherein characters engage in borderline incest, but it's usually considered acceptable only because the couple isn't related by blood: you see it in Frankenstein with Victor and Elizabeth, and in Wuthering Heights with Cathy and Heathcliff. (Actual incest is another gothic trope, but that tends to be the case when it's used to deliberately horrify the reader.)
And Hugo has a fun time reminding us of this fact:
"Gwynplaine was her brother, friend, guide, support; the personification of heavenly power, the husband, winged and resplendent."
"Dea was his sister...Dea, when he was a little child was his virgin; because every child has his virgin, and at the commencement of life a marriage of souls is always consummated in the plenitude of innocence. Dea was his wife..." (Can someone please explain to me what "every child has his virgin" means and how that isn't absolutely horrifying wording????? Is something wrong with my translation perhaps???)
Then there's this passage, which came right after I thought to myself, "Surely there's no way Hugo is going to make 10-year old Gwynplaine rescuing the INFANT DEA romantic, because that would just be SUPER WEIRD, right?":
"The little boy and girl, lying naked side by side, were joined through the silent hours, in the seraphic promiscuousness of the shadows; such dreams as were possible to their age floated from one to the other beneath their closed eyelids there shone, perhaps, a starlight; if the word marriage were not inappropriate to the situation, they were husband and wife after the fashion of the angels. Such innocence in such darkness, such purity in such an embrace, such foretastes of heaven are possible only to childhood, and no immensity approaches the greatness of little children."
And then he goes on to actually literally sexualize it:
"...for it may be remembered that on their wedding night she was nine months and he ten years old." MAKE IT STOP.
(Also is it just me or is the math not mathing? He's 24 about to be 25 and she's 16....but if he was 10 when she was 9 months, that means he's at least 9, if not 10 yrs older than her depending on their birthdays. If he's 24 turning 25, she should be 15 currently, no? Not sure if my translation got that wrong.)
Oh, but that isn't even the creepiest part!
Adult Gwynplaine getting turned on by child Dea is the creepiest part!:
"One fine day, whilst Dea was still very little, Gwynplaine felt himself grown up, and it was in the youth that shame arose. He said to Ursus, 'I will also sleep on the floor.' And at night he stretched himself, with the old man, on the bear skin. Then Dea wept. She cried for her bedfellow; but Gwynplaine, become restless because he had begun to love, decided to remain where he was."
I'M SORRY--WHEN SHE WAS HOW LITTLE?
"When thirteen Dea had not yet become resigned to the arrangement. Often in the evening she said, 'Gwynplaine, come close to me; that will put me to sleep.' A man lying by her side was a necessity to her innocent slumbers."--HE WOULD'VE BEEN 22!!!!---"Dea untaught, made Gwynplaine wild. Sometimes it happened that Dea, when almost reaching youth, combed her long hair as she sat on her bed¡ªher chemise unfastened and falling off revealed indications of a feminine outline, and a vague commencement of Eve¡ªand would call Gwynplaine. Gwynplaine blushed, lowered his eyes, and knew not what to do in presence of this innocent creature. Stammering, he turned his head, feared, and fled."
I ACTUALLY HATE IT HERE!!!
There are other problems with this book as well. There's a ton of casual sexism that I don't feel like getting into beyond what I've already touched upon with Dea, but just know that Victor Hugo thought the thing that made women powerful is their "feminine weakness" (in contrast to the physical "robustness" of men) and that women are most dangerous (to men) when naked--even when they're being spied upon, in their sleep, without their knowledge or consent by a peeping tom, which is exactly what Gwyn does to Josiana! Because everyone knows that even when they're literally unconscious and not even trying, women are just natural temptresses who have men succumbing to sin left and right!
There's quite a bit of disgusting antisemitism and racism as well, the latter especially being directed towards two Romani characters, Venus and Phoebe, who are described as "stupidly obedient," ugly, uncouth and wild. Victor Hugo really doesn't like Romani people, but from reading Notre Dame de Paris, I already knew that. There's also this mess of a line: "A Hottentot profile cannot be changed into a Roman outline, but out of a Grecian nose you may make a Calinuck¡¯s." Yikes!
Aside from all of that, everything is just very melodramatic, even by Victorian standards. I think I have a pretty high tolerance for melodrama because I actually like it. That's why I'm a fan of classics, and especially gothic fiction, in the first place. They're just teeming with melodrama. The action tends to get a little ridiculous sometimes and I just love it. But I simply couldn't stand the melodrama in this book, especially by the end. It just gets TOO SILLY. And it's made all the more torturous by how long-winded the prose is! Hugo goes on and on describing the same things in different ways for PAGES AND PAGES and it's EXHAUSTING. And yet very little actually happens in terms of plot--the actual "plot," mind you, doesn't even commence until over a hundred pages in! This absolutely did NOT need to be over 500 pages. (I don't care how many rows of benches are in the House of Lords!)
The problem is that the book is just full of bloat. Gwynplaine is challenged to a duel right around the time when you'd expect the book to be building towards a climax, and nothing actually comes of it; in fact, it gets skipped over completely. Why make this grand reveal that the man challenging him is his brother, only for the duel to literally not matter? Similarly, Barkilphedro's whole scheme to "bring about Josiana's downfall" by humiliating her with a marriage to Gwynplaine is ultimately inconsequential, except for the fact that Gwyn and Dea's temporary separation is enough to make them (view spoiler)[both die in the end (hide spoiler)]. I mean genuinely, what was the point of Barkilphedro's character? His scheme goes nowehere, as does Josiana's scheme to make Gwynplaine her lover. Why were these characters built up so much only to completely disappear before the end? Are they meant to be some kind of red herring? Hugo could have taken these two characters out and the subplot surrounding them, and the story could have remained essentially the same. It would've been more boring without Josiana, but at least I wouldn't have gotten my hopes up over seeing more of her character only to have her taken away from me. Josiana is by far the most interesting character to me, so it's too bad that she's reduced to a temptress who disappears after her only interaction with the main character. Speaking of...
Gwynplaine is a passive protagonist. The events of the story are boring to read because they merely consist of things HAPPENING TO him. He doesn't truly do anything: he wants to marry Dea (his adoptive teenage sister), but doesn't propose to her; he wants to sleep with Josiana but, after being seduced BY her, doesn't pursue it further when he loses the opportunity; he is whisked away to prison to be questioned, then whisked away to a grand palace after learning that he's a member of the nobility, then whisked away to the House of Lords to participate in a vote. His speech is the only real moment of action from him. He is challenged to a duel by someone else, follows Homo the wolf to find Dea and Ursus instead of just deciding to search for them himself (he was about to (view spoiler)[kill himself instead when he thought they were gone forever (hide spoiler)]), receives the invitation to meet with Josiana--and doesn't actually follow through with it! They only meet at the palace by chance!--etc etc. It's never him who affects real change in the story. Really the book is plotless. There are events that happen and indirectly lead into one another, but there's no true sense of direction, and it all feels so aimless.
The only reason this gets 2 stars instead of 1 is because of some truly beautiful prose, which I can only imagine is even more beautiful in its original French. Otherwise, I seriously didn't like this. I really hope Les Mis isn't this disappointing. ...more