Classics and the Western Canon discussion

By request of Zeke and Laurel, and for anybody else interested, this is a thread to discuss Les Miserables, War and Peace, and other aspects of Victor Hugo and Leo Tolstoy.

For courtesy, I ask that references to LesM be limited to the chapters already covered in our reading schedule. Beyond that, all is fair game. Particularly, if you haven't read War and Peace, and don't want come across likely spoilers, you might want to avoid this topic entirely.

Beyond those books, anything else about Hugo and Tolstoy -- their lives, the history of their times, their different views of France and Russia, their ideas (excluding those expressed in later chapters of LesM) is fair game.

Cool!

I've been doing some reading about Victor Hugo and have found one way in which he and Leo Tolstoy were very much alike: Both men kept reinventing themselves, moving restlessly from one ideal to another. Tolstoy's Pierre kept doing that, too. Will Jean Valjean? I think this life-long search enabled the writers to think the thoughts and feel the feelings of their varied characters from personal experience--a great asset for a novelist.

Another similarity that I noted is that both had trouble with the official churches of
their countries. Hugo began as a devout Catholic (and royalist) and ended up being a freethinker who was very critical of the Catholic church. Tolstoy experienced a 'conversion' to the Orthodox faith in middle age, but subsequently drifted away from official church teachings, and was finally excommunicated by the Russian Orthodox church. I thought that this is interesting, considering how their greatest works ( War and Peace for Tolstoy, Les Miserables for Hugo) are suffused with Christian values.

Also, both men strongly espoused the cause of social justice and were activists.

Laurele wrote: "I've been doing some reading about Victor Hugo and have found one way in which he and Leo Tolstoy were very much alike: Both men kept reinventing themselves, moving restlessly from one ideal to ano..."

Laurele, I think that Pierre is an avatar of Tolstoy and his search for the ideal was based on Tolstoy's own quest, while Valjean is more of a figure in a morality play. He doesn't seem to be a searcher and is content with the revelation he receives from the bishop without dabbling in other philosophies. I guess we'll just have to see how he develops through the course of the story.

Sandybanks wrote: Laurele, I think that Pierre is an avatar of Tolstoy and his search for the ideal was based on Tolstoy's own quest, while Valjean is more of a figure in a morality play. He doesn't seem to be a searcher and is content with the revelation he receives from the bishop without dabbling in other philosophies. I guess we'll just have to see how he develops through the course of the story.

Well put, SandyB.

As Fantine is dying, JVJ pledges to rescue Cosette from the Thernardiers even if he has to go himself. Hugo ends the chapter with one of his wonderful, if sometimes ambiguous, epigrammatic sentences.

"We chip away as best we can at the mysterious block of marble our lives are made of--in vain; the black vein of destiny always reappears."

I note this here, because, for me, this is one of the key themes in both Les Miserables and War and Peace: to what extent to we control history? And, do "great men" control it any more than "little" men?

Zeke wrote: "As Fantine is dying, JVJ pledges to rescue Cosette from the Thernardiers even if he has to go himself. Hugo ends the chapter with one of his wonderful, if sometimes ambiguous, epigrammatic sentence..."

Not according to Tolstoy : great men are nothing but tools of the mysterious divine force that moves history. I don't know what Hugo thinks. If he believes in revolutions, then he must believe that man, perhaps one single great man, can change history.

SandyBanks. Yes. That is what I was trying to point towards. I am suspecting Hugo, Royalist then liberal that he was, has more faith in man's ability to direct the course of history/society than Tolstoy does.

However, in the example I gave, it would appear that Hugo has doubts about a man's ability to determine the course of his own life. And on that count, in my opinion, War and Peace is one of literature's most eloquent statements that we can. Indeed, in light of Tolstoy's fatalism about "history," we learn that it is only his (or her) story, one can influence.

Zeke wrote: "SandyBanks. Yes. That is what I was trying to point towards. I am suspecting Hugo, Royalist then liberal that he was, has more faith in man's ability to direct the course of history/society than To..."

That's an interesting thought about War and Peace, Zeke. Pierre and Andrei couldn't help being affected by the Napoleonic wars, but each of them can make a difference in his ultimate fate. Andrei, though he is destined to die, makes a choice to forgive those who wronged him and thus is able to have a 'good death'. Pierre couldn't help being a POW of the French, but redeems himself by adopting a new mind-set that enables him to survive and becomes a better man.

Is that what you mean?

Yes Sandybanks. That is exactly what I mean. Pierre, especially, after trying on multiple "philosophies" for size, with no success, finds contentment after meeting the other prisoners.

It's hard to tell right now being immersed in the middle of Les Miserables, but I am starting to suspect that this will not be the direction Hugo takes.

You know W&P better than I do. Would you say that something similar happens to the women?

A further thought: For all his might, Napoleon (ultimately) has no power over history; degraded as he is, the prisoner Pierre befriends has total control of his soul.

Zeke wrote: "Yes Sandybanks. That is exactly what I mean. Pierre, especially, after trying on multiple "philosophies" for size, with no success, finds contentment after meeting the other prisoners.

It's har..."

No. The seekers are the men, Andrei and Pierre. The only woman that is shown to be spiritual is the deeply religious Marya Bolkonsky. But it is obvious that she never attained the same level of spiritual development as the men. The other major female character, Natasha Rostova, is completely content being a frumpy housewife at the end of the novel. She has no interest or understanding of what happens outside the house; she is Tolstoy's ideal woman.

As much as I love War & Peace, I must admit that the female characters get a short shrift from Tolstoy.

Zeke wrote: "A further thought: For all his might, Napoleon (ultimately) has no power over history; degraded as he is, the prisoner Pierre befriends has total control of his soul.

"

Yes. Platon Karataev is the embodiment of Russian folk wisdom. He doesn't try to change history, he is content within himself, and therefore he is more powerful than the great men of history.

The interesting thing for me is that even after receiving all this wisdom from Karataev, Pierre still believes that a revolution can change the world. At the end of the novel, he is involved in clandestine meetings that will lead into the Decembrist rebellion against the Tsar.

I wonder what Tolstoy is saying about Pierre by having him getting involved with the Decembrist movement --- why is Pierre trying to be one of those 'great men' while Tolstoy has demonstrated that they can't change history? Is he saying that Pierre, despite all his spiritual development, is still trapped in illusions?

Thanks for the updates Sandybanks. Your comments have enhanced my appreciation of War and Peace. Also, I think they can show others, who may not have even read the book, why I felt that it deserved some comment in the context of Les Miserables.

On a small note, you remind me that as I was reading about the Bishop's housekeeper I thought of Marya in W&P.

I also wonder if some of the men (don't want to specify in case of spoilers) that JVJ encounters might have aspects of the kind of influence Karatev has on Pierre.

You're welcome, Zeke. I've enjoyed your insights on W & P. I have only read to page 200 of Les Mis, but I think this book is likely to be as sprawling and huge in scope as War and Peace. There are other similarities that make them eminently comparable :

- they are historical fiction written in 1860's about the Napoleonic period and its aftermath;
- they describe major events in the Napoleonic Wars (Borodino in W & P and Waterloo in Les Mis);
- they deal with issues of social justice (emancipation of serfs in W & P and improvement in the condition of the working poor in Les Mis);
- they are didactic novels with Christian themes.

I'm sure there are others, which might become apparent as we progress through Les Mis.

Sandybanks: The only woman that is shown to be spiritual is the deeply religious Marya Bolkonsky. But it is obvious that she never attained the same level of spiritual development as the men. The other major female character, Natasha Rostova, is completely content being a frumpy housewife at the end of the novel. She has no interest or understanding of what happens outside the house; she is Tolstoy's ideal woman.

A question. Allowing for the social conventions of his time --and, perhaps, Tolstoy's relatively unenlightened view of women--might not Natasha's contentment in frumpery represent a sort of spiritual "growth" or at least personal acceptance parallel to Pierre's? After all, she is a striver in the social swirl early in the book and has her own long, hard path to follow before finding herself.

"On a small note, you remind me that as I was reading about the Bishop's housekeeper I thought of Marya in W&P.

I also wonder if some of the men (don't want to specify in case of spoilers) that JVJ encounters might have aspects of the kind of influence Karatev has on Pierre. "

She has a bit of Marya in her, in that she is unquestioningly religious.

The Karataev figure in Les Mis seems to appear very early in the story, while Karataev in W & P appears near the end of the story. Why is that? : )

Zeke wrote: "Sandybanks: The only woman that is shown to be spiritual is the deeply religious Marya Bolkonsky. But it is obvious that she never attained the same level of spiritual development as the men. The o..."

Tolstoy seems to think so. His opinion was that a woman's supreme achievement in life is to be a devoted wife and mother to her family. I suppose that according to Tolstoy's view, Natasha has reached the peak of spiritual perfection by being an uber-housewife.

Sonya, a woman who never have a family of her own is described as 'barren', a superfluous old maid.

Sandybanks: The Karataev figure in Les Mis seems to appear very early in the story, while Karataev in W & P appears near the end of the story. Why is that? : )

Avoiding spoilers, I would comment that your question is a very interesting one. And, for me, this difference may partly explain why I find Les Miz more a melodrama (though an excellent one with much to think about) than W&P which I find a classic.

If you want specifics, with spoilers included, write me offline.

Zeke, have you read Les Mis before? This is my first reading.

As Everyman said that it's OK to discuss Les Mis with spoilers as far as the parts already covered in our reading (now through the end of Fantine), I think it should be fine to discuss those specifics here. But if you're going to include spoilers from later parts of the book, please send a pm to my inbox. I've seen the musical so I already know the basic plot line anyway.

Zeke wrote: "Thanks for the updates Sandybanks. Your comments have enhanced my appreciation of War and Peace. Also, I think they can show others, who may not have even read the book, why I felt that it deserved..."

Ah! We must, must read War and Peace together sometime! I'm reading Vanity Fair and Les Miserables right now, and Tolstoy keeps rolling around in my mind. Three novels, one time period, one series of wars, three very different nations.

Good idea, Laurele! I've just read VF a few months ago. With the three novels, we get the Russian, French and English perspectives on the Napoleonic period. I'm looking forward to read Hugo's treatment of Waterloo. Thackeray also devoted several chapters of VF on the same battle, but his perspective is mostly from the sidelines.

Laurele wrote: "Ah! We must, must read War and Peace together sometime"

Well, when our next choice time rolls around, I have the privilege of including a few member-choices in addition to the random selections from our bookshelf. If enough people want me to, I'll put W&P on the voting list, though I wonder whether we will be ready for a third massive read after DQ and LesM, or whether we will want something a bit lighter inbetween.

But it will be up to the wisdom of the group, which is proving to be very trustworthy.

Zeke invited me to expand on my comparison of Hugo and Dickens.

There are tons of differences, of course, but these are a few that stand out.

While it's hard to judge a writer's style from translation, both the translations I have (and the one I borrowed from the library briefly) use fairly straightforward, plain language and for the most part simple words and fairly simple sentence constructions. Dickens, OTOH, uses much more complex language, sometimes quite complex sentences, and an extensive vocabulary including words many of which I think were probably as uncommon to his readers as to modern readers.

Dickens is famous for extensive descriptions of places and the atmosphere of his environments. His description of London fog in Bleak House, his description of the river in Our Mutual Friend, his description of the stagecoach on the Dover Road in A Tale of Two Cities come instantly to mind.

very slight spoiler Hugo's descriptions of the Waterloo area battlefield in our next reading shows that he is capable of this sort of writing, even though he seems to view its importance for the purpose of explaining events rather than creating atmosphere. end very slight spoiler But for the most part, Hugo doesn't do that much with descriptions of places or setting up atmosphere as an important element of his storytelling. Compare, for example, the description of the courtroom scenes in Bleak House with those of in the current section of Les Miserables. Or compare his description of Myriel's house with those of, say, the Curiosity Shop, or the ship/home in David Copperfield. Hugo describes only what we need to know to understand the situation. Dickens describes for the love of description and the richness of his settings.

Hugo, oh the other side,tends to be much more focused on the internal struggles and mindsets of his characters. I don't recall a single incident in all of Dickens where he came even close to the kind of introspective descriptions of a character wrestling within itself that we had in Valjean's inner turmoil over whether to reveal himself.

I find the events in Hugo more central to his books than those in much of Dickens. He seems to me to be more of a story teller, more focused in the events of his story, whereas Dickens I think is more interested in using his plots and storylines as a framework on which to hing his characters and his environments.

Just a few thoughts as I read books by both authors simultaneously.

Many thanks Everyman. I really need to read more Dickens I suppose.

Zeke wrote: "Many thanks Everyman. I really need to read more Dickens I suppose."

I'm reading/rereading all of Dickens' novels this year. If I ever finish Les Miserables and Vanity Fair, I'll start on my last two, Martin Chuzzlewit and The Pickwick Papers. Dickens wrote fifteen novels, and they are all very much worth reading.

Thanks for the interesting comparison between Dickens and Hugo, Everyman. I have read only two of Dickens' novels, so I can't say that I'm that familiar with his writing, but your analysis seems to be spot-on. Hugo's language and background descriptions are indeed much more terse and economical than Dickens'. As you said, he was more interested in the internal dynamics of the story and the psychological descriptions of his characters than atmosphere. The simplicity of his language reminds me a bit of Tolstoy's writing.

A question : Dickens is often accused of being sentimental. Does Hugo, who also wrote about the plight of the working poor in Les Mis, have the same tendency?

Zeke wrote: "Many thanks Everyman. I really need to read more Dickens I suppose."

If you tried him when you were young, say under 30, and didn't care for him, it's time to read him now. Despite being, at least in my day, a staple of high school English, he really is an author for the mature reader.

Sandybanks wrote: "A question : Dickens is often accused of being sentimental. Does Hugo, who also wrote about the plight of the working poor in Les Mis, have the same tendency?"

I wonder what others who have read a lot of Dickens -- I know Laurel has -- would say about this.

For my money, Hugo, at least so far in the book, doesn't have the same ability to create sympathetic working poor that Dickens does. I don't see Fantine as all that sympathetic, frankly; she had her fun fling, she left her daughter almost casually without really taking any serious care of the people she was leaving her with (she never looked at the inside of the house, she never took the trouble to go in and meet and talk with Thenardier, it was IMO more irresponsible than caring. Champmathieu isn't described in enough detail to really engage my concern; to me, he's more there as an object, perhaps a foil, for Valjean's self-torment than as a character in his own right. So I don't see Hugo being very sentimental about these characters.

But others may disagree, and should!

I think Dickens explores the world of the working poor very well while Hugo describes the destitute poor and the prisoners well. Reading Les Mis has made me think often of Dickens' A Tale of Two Cities but most likely due to all the info on the French Revolution. As for sentimentality, there are ways to "write" your characters with sentimentality, which often depends on the words chosen for description, or a writer can just present the characters in their circumstances and leave it up to the reader to become sentimental (or not). Hugo does a little of both, in my opinion.

A blog I follow carries comments by an author about a favorite book. I came across these thoughts about Madame Bovary. I include them here because someone else mentioned the novel (which I have not read) as a counterpart to Les Miserables and, more importantly, because the parts I have italicized voice a "concern" I am increasingly having with Les Miz as I proceed.

Zeke

Poppy Adams is a writer and documentary filmmaker with a background in science. She has made films for the BBC, Channel 4 and the Discovery Channel. Her first novel, The Behaviour of Moths, was shortlisted for the Costa First Novel Award and the Author's Club First Novel Award, long-listed for the Desmond Elliot Prize, and read on BBC Radio 4's Book at Bedtime. Poppy lives in London with her husband and three children and is currently working on her second novel. Below she thinks about Gustave Flaubert's Madame Bovary.



Poppy Adams on Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert

Some fiction I enjoy for the story-telling; other fiction purely for the prose; yet other fiction for more specific qualities like an author's observational skills, or ability to express perfectly the most subtle of human feelings. Although I admire Flaubert for all of these reasons - especially the last - it is for none of them that Madame Bovary has always fascinated me. There is no question of the book's literary merits. It has been unanimously celebrated in a chorus of approving voices by famous literary figures for the last 150 years and, quite frankly, no sane person would dare criticize it now.

Yet the real fascination for me doesn't lie directly at Flaubert's feet at all. What has always intrigued me is the public's reaction to the novel, from its first publication to the present day, and what it tells us about society, human nature and changing ideas.

Madame Bovary is an absorbing and honest portrayal of the intimate, often trivial, feelings of Emma Bovary as increasingly she despairs of her life and marriage. She retreats into her fantasies and is driven to adultery. Her illusions of life eventually lead to her downfall and suicide. Emma's loss of dreams and her disillusionment with love and marriage are, I believe, not a reflection of a woman's life which will ever date. Every bride should study it!

But Madame Bovary caused a national scandal when it was first published in France in 1856. It was banned for a while and Flaubert put on trial, the book deemed dangerous as 'an offence against religion and morality'. It turned out that that wasn't the most shocking thing about it - or the most dangerous. This was a completely new type of fiction. It was dangerous purely because of its resonance with the truth – the unspeakable truth. The public at that time were so deluded by the trend of romantic literature - Dumas, Chateaubriand, Gautier, Victor Hugo - writing of those 'fantasy' lives that they all publicly conformed to, that they didn't recognize the truth in the numbing desperation, deceit and self-serving gratifications of Madame Bovary. They took time to realize, or to admit, that this was, in fact, how they all viewed their lot. Even her indiscretions were what they all privately did, or longed to do. Far from distasteful speciousness, this book was a scrupulously truthful portraiture of life.

So Flaubert invents Realism; and with it spawns Feminism: the freedom for women to think the unthinkable, the unutterable, the truth of their feelings. Where would we be without Madame Bovary?

Within a year, Madame Bovary had become a best-seller and Flaubert was celebrated. For fun, I like to think of that process of realization: how did something considered so scandalous become so esteemed? How the truth slowly sank into an outraged society: first a few brave non-conformists, perhaps, introduce the idea that this amorality could, in fact, be considered a candid account of something natural or, dare they say it, widespread in their society. This avant-garde suggestion is then claimed by the intellectuals of bourgeois society, and sweeps through the Parisian social scene; gossiped about, perhaps, in the very salons in which these indiscretions occur. At once realism becomes respectable, de rigeur, and the notoriety of Flaubert's story quickly turns to acclamation.

But why did it take them so long? Why should it have been such a revelation for them, collectively, to turn to the mirror and be truthful about what they saw? They were blinded by self-deception. It is difficult for us to be honest with ourselves, but this story is an example of the power of society's brainwashing, the social conformity we must learn to wear on the outside, to mask our transgressions and a multitude of ugly thoughts on the inside.

It is realism which is dangerous, and which shocks us. Fantasy is easy. We don't ever need to ask ourselves if it could be true. But realism makes us uneasy. The truth of human nature is hard to determine and hard to admit. The line between innate human character and learned social convention is indistinct. It is that ambiguity which makes human nature, in its pure and instinctive form, difficult to assess. And, of course, the fear of what we might find.

Interesting. Actually, it was not the realism of Flaubert's book that caused me to rate it third-class. Perhaps I just read a bad translation, but I did not think it was well written. It didn't seem at all real to me. But then, I had Tolstoy's wonderful Anna Karenina as my standard of comparison.

I take it, then, Zeke, that you are unhappy with the fantasy nature of Les Mis? That the characters seem unrealistic?

Yes Everyman. I am holding off on posting anything until a bit later in the discussion, and until my thinking is a bit clearer on the subject. That said, I am enjoying many aspects of the novel greatly. And, despite my misgivings, the story, even with its "unrealistic" characters, has kept me reading avidly!

This is not a bias in favor of realism nor a congenital impatience with archetypal characters or stylized situations. I agree with much of what Chris wrote in an earlier, thoughtful post.

However, for me, the test is whether that "fantasy nature," to use your phrase, leads to a deeper understanding of "real" human experience. In that regard, with 250 pages remaining, the jury is still out on Les Miserables. Could go either way.

Laurele wrote: "Interesting. Actually, it was not the realism of Flaubert's book that caused me to rate it third-class. Perhaps I just read a bad translation, but I did not think it was well written. It didn't see..."

I haven't read Madame Bovary. It certainly would be interesting to compare them, given the similarities in theme and realistic treatment of the subject.

I'm finished with the reading assignment for the second week. I have some thoughts regarding Hugo's views on Waterloo and Napoleon.

From Vol. II,Book 1,Chap. 9 :

"Was it possible that Napoleon should have won that battle? We answer No. Why? Because of Wellington? Because of Blucher? No. Because of God.

Bonaparte victor at Waterloo; that does not come within the law of the nineteenth century. Another series of facts was in preparation, in which there was no longer any room for Napoleon. The ill will of events had declared itself long before.

It was time that this vast man should fall.

The excessive weight of this man in human destiny disturbed the balance. This individual alone counted for more than a universal group. These plethoras of all human vitality concentrated in a single head; the world mounting to the brain of one man,--this would be mortal to civilization were it to last. The moment had arrived for the incorruptible and supreme equity to alter its plan. Probably the principles and the elements, on which the regular gravitations of the moral, as of the material, world depend, had complained. Smoking blood, over-filled cemeteries, mothers in tears,-- these are formidable pleaders. When the earth is suffering from too heavy a burden, there are mysterious groanings of the shades, to which the abyss lends an ear.

Napoleon had been denounced in the infinite and his fall had been decided on.

He embarrassed God.

Waterloo is not a battle; it is a change of front on the part of the Universe".

Tolstoy believed that no man, however great, can truly change history; he is merely a tool of the mysterious divine power that determines history's course. The greater he is the less in control is he of his own destiny. Hugo seemed to believe that a great man CAN actually influence the course of history, but only up to a certain point. In Napoleon's case, God intervened at Waterloo because he had spilt too much blood.

From Vol. II, Book 1, Chap. 17

"If one places one's self at the culminating point of view of the question, Waterloo is intentionally a counter-revolutionary victory. It is Europe against France; it is Petersburg, Berlin, and Vienna against Paris; it is the status quo against the initiative; it is the 14th of July, 1789, attacked through the 20th of March, 1815; it is the monarchies clearing the decks in opposition to the indomitable French rioting. The final extinction of that vast people which had been in eruption for twenty-six years--such was the dream. The solidarity of the Brunswicks, the Nassaus, the Romanoffs, the Hohenzollerns, the Hapsburgs with the Bourbons. Waterloo bears divine right on its crupper. It is true, that the Empire having been despotic, the kingdom by the natural reaction of things, was forced to be liberal, and that a constitutional order was the unwilling result of Waterloo, to the great regret of the conquerors. It is because revolution cannot be really conquered, and that being providential and absolutely fatal, it is always cropping up afresh: before Waterloo, in Bonaparte overthrowing the old thrones; after Waterloo, in Louis XVIII. granting and conforming to the charter. Bonaparte places a postilion on the throne of Naples, and a sergeant on the throne of Sweden, employing inequality to demonstrate equality; Louis XVIII. at Saint-Ouen countersigns the declaration of the rights of man".

Hugo seems to be contradicting himself; on the one hand, he considered Napoleon the embodiment of the democratic principles of the Revolution, while on the other hand he seems to tolerate, or even lauded, his imperial ambitions. If Napoleon, upon successfully seizing power, immediately crowned himself Emperor, what is the difference between him and the feudal Bourbon monarchy that the Revolution deposed?

Tolstoy had a much more negative view of Napoleon. He thought that Napoleon didn't really care about the ideals of the revolution, although he (cynically) paid lip service to them. He was ultimately a puny man because he abandoned morality in the pursuit of his personal ambitions.

From Vol. II, Book I, Chap. 16

"If we take Waterloo from Wellington and Blucher, do we thereby deprive England and Germany of anything? No. Neither that illustrious England nor that august Germany enter into the problem of Waterloo. Thank Heaven, nations are great, independently of the lugubrious feats of the sword. Neither England, nor Germany, nor France is contained in a scabbard. At this epoch when Waterloo is only a clashing of swords, above Blucher, Germany has Schiller; above Wellington, England has Byron. A vast dawn of ideas is the peculiarity of our century, and in that aurora England and Germany have a magnificent radiance. They are majestic because they think. The elevation of level which they contribute to civilization is intrinsic with them; it proceeds from themselves and not from an accident. The aggrandizement which they have brought to the nineteenth century has not Waterloo as its source. It is only barbarous peoples who undergo rapid growth after a victory. That is the temporary vanity of torrents swelled by a storm. Civilized people, especially in our day, are neither elevated nor abased by the good or bad fortune of a captain. Their specific gravity in the human species results from something more than a combat. Their honor, thank God! their dignity, their intelligence, their genius, are not numbers which those gamblers, heroes and conquerors, can put in the lottery of battles. Often a battle is lost and progress is conquered. There is less glory and more liberty. The drum holds its peace; reason takes the word. It is a game in which he who loses wins. Let us, therefore, speak of Waterloo coldly from both sides. Let us render to chance that which is due to chance, and to God that which is due to God. What is Waterloo? A victory? No. The winning number in the lottery.

The prize won by Europe, paid by France."

Isn't Hugo trying to gloss over France's defeat at Waterloo? Can we say that Nazi Germany made a contribution to Europe's progress by being defeated in WW II? I'm not equalizing Nazi Germany with Napoleonic France, but that seems like an acceptable analogy.

I don't know that much about Napoleonic France, so I might have misinterpreted some of things that Hugo is saying about Waterloo. I'm curious to hear your opinions about them.

Everyman wrote: "By request of Zeke and Laurel, and for anybody else interested, this is a thread to discuss Les Miserables, War and Peace, and other aspects of Victor Hugo and Leo Tolstoy.

For courtesy, I ask t..."

Just to help myself keep track of this, here are some publication dates:

1848--Vanity Fair
1862--Les Miserables
1865-1869--War and Peace

I agree with Laurel about Madame Bovary. I was disappointed when I read it. The characters didn't seem real enough to capture me in any way. Anna Karenina is a good comparison - the characters were very captivating, whether for good or ill, and I was very sympathetic toward Anna herself.



Laurele wrote: "Interesting. Actually, it was not the realism of Flaubert's book that caused me to rate it third-class. Perhaps I just read a bad translation, but I did not think it was well written. It didn't see..."

I read Madame Bovary back about 20 years or so because my mom recommended it to me. Well, my mom and I don't have the same tastes and I did not like Madame Bovary and thought it was not well written. Maybe I, also, had a bad translation...

I can't possibly compare in my mind War and Peace with Madame Bovary. However, I read Anna Karenina recently for the second time and didn't like it as well as at the first reading. Maybe it is because I am not the same person I was then. Anyway, I am also reading War and Peace again and so far it is still my favorite of all time.

I read Les Miserables back in that time period of about 20 years ago and I remember liking it more back then and thinking now that the chararcters are not as believable as I would like them to be and some of the scenes have caused me downright incredulity. (More on that later.) The phrase "superabundant melodram" comes to my mind.

I wish I had a spellcheck because I am self-conscious about my spelling but I don't have time to check all my words for errors so the spelling police might have to get me.

Dianna wrote: "I wish I had a spellcheck because I am self-conscious about my spelling but I don't have time to check all my words for errors so the spelling police might have to get me."

The free Firefox browser has a built-in spellchecker. Very handy. I used to be a pretty good speller, but what with doing almost all my writing in programs with spellcheckers, I've gotten lazy.

(By the way, spellcheck is not a word according to my spellchecker, but spellchecker is. I guess it's spell check and spellchecker. I hadn't known that before your post. We live and learn!)

Laurele, you have just finished rereading Vanity Fair. Maybe you can give us a comparison between Thackeray's version of Waterloo and Hugo's?

For my money, the best writer of war scenes is still Tolstoy. His almost cinematic realism in writing about Austerlitz and Borodino is leagues above Hugo's and Thackeray's accounts of Waterloo. Just my 2 cents.

Sandybanks wrote: "Laurele, you have just finished rereading Vanity Fair. Maybe you can give us a comparison between Thackeray's version of Waterloo and Hugo's?

For my money, the best writer of war scenes is still ..."

To tell you the truth, I usually fall asleep during the battles, even Tolstoy's. Thackeray does not spend much time at the battle scene but rather concentrates on the reactions of the civilians and soldiers. During Waterloo, we get to see the people, especially cowardly Jos. Sedley, desperately trying to flee Brussels. Becky makes a bundle here by selling her horses.

Laurele wrote: "Sandybanks wrote: "Laurele, you have just finished rereading Vanity Fair. Maybe you can give us a comparison between Thackeray's version of Waterloo and Hugo's?

For my money, the best writer of w..."

Yes, that's what I remember about it too; mostly from the sidelines.

As I was reading the scene of Cosette going to get the water I thought how differently Dickens would have written the scene. He would have made the night a character rather than an element. Hugo mostly presented the night in terms of the way it affected Cosette. Dickens would have made the night vivid and frightening in its own right, and left us do draw most of the conclusion of how scary it was for Cosette. Not that he would have pointed that out, but he would have made us do more of the work that Hugo did for us.

At least, that's the way I think he would have handled the same scene.

Has anyone here read Count of Monte Cristo? Does it bear comparison to Les Miserables?

Zeke wrote: "Has anyone here read Count of Monte Cristo? Does it bear comparison to Les Miserables?"

There's the prisoner, of course. And a very strong lesson. The lesson in Count is, I think, about revenge. I think both are very moving stories.

"Zeke wrote: "Has anyone here read Count of Monte Cristo? Does it bear comparison to Les Miserables?"

There's the prisoner, of course. And a very strong lesson. The lesson in Count is, I think, abo..."

I bought the book but didn’t get ½ way with it (busy with little kids . . . )
It’s revenge – but also the conflict between good and evil, suffering and love.

The 2002 movie starring Jim Caviezel as Edmond with Richard Harris and Guy Pearce is excellent. Our whole family (sons and daughter) has enjoyed watching this film many times over the years. In the film, I loved the relationship between the priest (Harris) and Edmond – very touching.

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0245844/

Does anyone think that Marius' grandfather has some resemblance to old Prince Bolkonsky in War and Peace? He's an old curmudgeon who lives with a spinster daughter, mostly in seclusion, except when he goes out to hobnob with people of similar persuasion. His politics is as old-fashioned as his clothes and he abhors Napoleon.

Zeke wrote: "Has anyone here read Count of Monte Cristo? Does it bear comparison to Les Miserables?"

I read it so long ago that I've forgotten most of it. Perhaps, as Carol and Laurele have pointed out, the revenge theme runs through both books. They're also both Romantic works, although Les Mis is much more serious in tone, while Monte Cristo is more of a swashbuckling tale.