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In the cemetery of Pre-Lachaise, in the vicinity of the common grave, far from the elegant quarter of that city of sepulchres, far from all the tombs of fancy which display in the presence of eternity all the hideous fashions of death, in a deserted corner, beside an old wall, beneath a great yew tree over which climbs the wild convolvulus, amid dandelions and mosses, there lies a stone. That stone is no more exempt than others from the leprosy of time, of dampness, of the lichens and from the defilement of the birds. The water turns it green, the air blackens it. It is not near any path, and people are not fond of walking in that direction, because the grass is high and their feet are immediately wet. When there is a little sunshine, the lizards come thither. All around there is a quivering of weeds. In the spring, linnets warble in the trees.
This stone is perfectly plain. In cutting it the only thought was the requirements of the tomb, and no other care was taken than to make the stone long enough and narrow enough to cover a man.
No name is to be read there.
Only, many years ago, a hand wrote upon it in pencil these four lines, which have become gradually illegible beneath the rain and the dust, and which are, to-day, probably effaced:
Il dort. Quoique le sort ft pour lui bien trange, Il vivait. Il mourut quand il n’eut plus son ange. La chose simplement d’elle-mme arriva, Comme la nuit se fait lorsque le jour s’en va.70
Publisher of the Italian translation of Les Misrables in Milan.
HAUTEVILLE-HOUSE, October 18, 1862.
You are right, sir, when you tell me that Les Misrables is written for all nations. I do not know whether it will be read by all, but I wrote it for all. It is addressed to England as well as to Spain, to Italy as well as to France, to Germany as well as to Ireland, to Republics which have slaves as well as to Empires which have serfs. Social problems overstep frontiers. The sores of the human race, those great sores which cover the globe, do not halt at the red or blue lines traced upon the map. In every place where man is ignorant and despairing, in every place where woman is sold for bread, wherever the child suffers for lack of the book which should instruct him and of the hearth which should warm him, the book of Les Misrables knocks at the door and says: “Open to me, I come for you.”
At the hour of civilization through which we are now passing, and which is still so sombre, the miserable’s name is Man; he is agonizing in all climes, and he is groaning in all languages.
Your Italy is no more exempt from the evil than is our France. Your admirable Italy has all miseries on the face of it. Does not banditism, that raging form of pauperism, inhabit your mountains? Few nations are more deeply eaten by that ulcer of convents which I have endeavored to fathom. In spite of your possessing Rome, Milan, Naples, Palermo, Turin, Florence, Sienna, Pisa, Mantua, Bologna, Ferrara, Genoa, Venice, a heroic history, sublime ruins, magnificent ruins, and superb cities, you are, like ourselves, poor. You are covered with marvels and vermin. Assuredly, the sun of Italy is splendid, but, alas, azure in the sky does not prevent rags on man.
Like us, you have prejudices, superstitions, tyrannies, fanaticisms, blind laws lending assistance to ignorant customs. You taste nothing of the present nor of the future without a flavor of the past being mingled with it. You have a barbarian, the monk, and a savage, the lazzarone. The social question is the same for you as for us. There are a few less deaths from hunger with you, and a few more from fever; your social hygiene is not much better than ours; shadows, which are Protestant in England, are Catholic in Italy; but, under different names, the vescovo is identical with the bishop, and it always means night, and of pretty nearly the same quality. To explain the Bible badly amounts to the same thing as to understand the Gospel badly.
Is it necessary to emphasize this? Must this melancholy parallelism be yet more completely verified? Have you not indigent persons? Glance below. Have you not parasites? Glance up. Does not that hideous balance, whose two scales, pauperism and parasitism, so mournfully preserve their mutual equilibrium, oscillate before you as it does before us? Where is your army of schoolmasters, the only army which civilization acknowledges?
Where are your free and compulsory schools? Does every one know how to read in the land of Dante and of Michael Angelo? Have you made public schools of your barracks? Have you not, like ourselves, an opulent war-budget and a paltry budget of education? Have not you also that passive obedience which is so easily converted into soldierly obedience? military establishment which pushes the regulations to the extreme of firing upon Garibaldi; that is to say, upon the living honor of Italy? Let us subject your social order to examination, let us take it where it stands and as it stands, let us view its flagrant offences, show me the woman and the child. It is by the amount of protection with which these two feeble creatures are surrounded that the degree of civilization is to be measured. Is prostitution less heartrending in Naples than in Paris? What is the amount of truth that springs from your laws, and what amount of justice springs from your tribunals? Do you chance to be so fortunate as to be ignorant of the meaning of those gloomy words: public prosecution, legal infamy, prison, the scaffold, the executioner, the death penalty? Italians, with you as with us, Beccaria is dead and Farinace is alive. And then, let us scrutinize your state reasons. Have you a government which comprehends the identity of morality and politics? You have reached the point where you grant amnesty to heroes! Something very similar has been done in France. Stay, let us pass miseries in review, let each one contribute his pile, you are as rich as we. Have you not, like ourselves, two condemnations, religious condemnation pronounced by the priest, and social condemnation decreed by the judge? Oh, great nation of Italy, thou resemblest the great nation of France! Alas! our brothers, you are, like ourselves, Miserables.
From the depths of the gloom wherein you dwell, you do not see much more distinctly than we the radiant and distant portals of Eden. Only, the priests are mistaken. These holy portals are before and not behind us.
I resume. This book, Les Misrables, is no less your mirror than ours. Certain men, certain castes, rise in revolt against this book,—I understand that. Mirrors, those revealers of the truth, are hated; that does not prevent them from being of use.
As for myself, I have written for all, with a profound love for my own country, but without being engrossed by France more than by any other nation. In proportion as I advance in life, I grow more simple, and I become more and more patriotic for humanity.
This is, moreover, the tendency of our age, and the law of radiance of the French Revolution; books must cease to be exclusively French, Italian, German, Spanish, or English, and become European, I say more, human, if they are to correspond to the enlargement of civilization.
Hence a new logic of art, and of certain requirements of composition which modify everything, even the conditions, formerly narrow, of taste and language, which must grow broader like all the rest.
In France, certain critics have reproached me, to my great delight, with having transgressed the bounds of what they call “French taste”; I should be glad if this eulogium were merited.
In short, I am doing what I can, I suffer with the same universal suffering, and I try to assuage it, I possess only the puny forces of a man, and I cry to all: “Help me!”
This, sir, is what your letter prompts me to say; I say it for you and for your country. If I have insisted so strongly, it is because of one phrase in your letter. You write:—
“There are Italians, and they are numerous, who say: ‘This book, Les Misrables, is a French book. It does not concern us. Let the French read it as a history, we read it as a romance.’”—Alas! I repeat, whether we be Italians or Frenchmen, misery concerns us all. Ever since history has been written, ever since philosophy has meditated, misery has been the garment of the human race; the moment has at length arrived for tearing off that rag, and for replacing, upon the naked limbs of the Man-People, the sinister fragment of the past with the grand purple robe of the dawn.
If this letter seems to you of service in enlightening some minds and in dissipating some prejudices, you are at liberty to publish it, sir. Accept, I pray you, a renewed assurance of my very distinguished sentiments.
VICTOR HUGO.
1 (return)
[ Patois of the French Alps:
chat de maraude, rascally marauder.]
2 (return)
[ Lige: a cork-tree. Pau: a
jest on peau, skin.]
3 (return)
[ She belonged to that circle
where cuckoos and carriages share the same fate; and a jade herself, she
lived, as jades live, for the space of a morning (or jade).]
4 (return)
[ An ex-convict.]
5 (return)
[ This parenthesis is due to
Jean Valjean.]
6 (return)
[ A bullet as large as an
egg.]
7 (return)
[ Walter Scott, Lamartine,
Vaulabelle, Charras, Quinet, Thiers.]
8 (return)
[ This is the inscription:—
D. O. M. CY A ETE CRAS PAR MALHEUR SOUS UN CHARIOT, MONSIEUR BERNARD DE BRYE MARCHAND A BRUXELLE LE [illegible] FEVRIER 1637.]
9 (return)
[ A heavy rifled gun.]
10 (return)
[ “A battle terminated, a
day finished, false measures repaired, greater successes assured for the
morrow,—all was lost by a moment of panic, terror.”—Napoleon,
Dictes de Sainte Hlne.]
11 (return)
[ Five winning numbers in a
lottery]
12 (return)
[ Literally “made cuirs”;
i. e., pronounced a t or an s at the end of words
where the opposite letter should occur, or used either one of them where
neither exists.]
13 (return)
[ Lawyer Corbeau, perched
on a docket, held in his beak a writ of execution; Lawyer Renard,
attracted by the smell, addressed him nearly as follows, etc.]
14 (return)
[ This is the factory of
Goblet Junior: Come choose your jugs and crocks, Flower-pots, pipes,
bricks. The Heart sells Diamonds to every comer.]
15 (return)
[ On the boughs hang three
bodies of unequal merits: Dismas and Gesmas, between is the divine power.
Dismas seeks the heights, Gesmas, unhappy man, the lowest regions; the
highest power will preserve us and our effects. If you repeat this verse,
you will not lose your things by theft.]
16 (return)
[ Instead of
porte cochre and porte btarde.]
17 (return)
[ Jesus-my-God-bandy-leg—down
with the moon!]
18 (return)
[ Chicken: slang
allusion to the noise made in calling poultry.]
19 (return)
[ Louis XVIII. is
represented in comic pictures of that day as having a pear-shaped head.]
20 (return)
[ Tuck into your trousers
the shirt-tail that is hanging out. Let it not be said that patriots have
hoisted the white flag.]
21 (return)
[ In order to re-establish
the shaken throne firmly on its base, soil (Des solles), greenhouse and
house (Decazes) must be changed.]
22 (return)
[ Suspendu,
suspended; pendu, hung.]
23 (return)
[ L’Aile, wing.]
24 (return)
[ The slang term for a
painter’s assistant.]
25 (return)
[ If Csar had given me
glory and war, and I were obliged to quit my mother’s love, I would say to
great Csar, “Take back thy sceptre and thy chariot; I prefer the love of
my mother.”]
26 (return)
[ Whether the sun shines
brightly or dim, the bear returns to his cave.]
27 (return)
[ The peep-hole is a Judas
in French. Hence the half-punning allusion.]
28 (return)
[ Our love has lasted a
whole week, but how short are the instants of happiness! To adore each
other for eight days was hardly worth the while! The time of love should
last forever.]
29 (return)
[ You leave me to go to
glory; my sad heart will follow you everywhere.]
30 (return)
[ A democrat.]
31 (return)
[ King Bootkick went
a-hunting after crows, mounted on two stilts. When one passed beneath
them, one paid him two sous.]
32 (return)
[ In olden times, fouriers
were the officials who preceded the Court and allotted the lodgings.]
33 (return)
[ A game of ninepins, in
which one side of the ball is smaller than the other, so that it does not
roll straight, but describes a curve on the ground.]
34 (return)
[ From April 19 to May 20.]
35 (return)
[ Merlan: a sobriquet given
to hairdressers because they are white with powder.]
36 (return)
[ The scaffold.]
37 (return)
[ Argot of the Temple.]
38 (return)
[ Argot of the barriers.]
39 (return)
[ The Last Day of a
Condemned Man.]
40 (return)
[ “Vous trouverez dans ces
potains-l, une foultitude de raisons pour que je me libertise.”]
41 (return)
[ It must be observed,
however, that mac in Celtic means son.]
42 (return)
[ Smoke puffed in the face
of a person asleep.]
43 (return)
[ Je n’entrave que le dail
comment meck, le daron des orgues, peut atiger ses mmes et ses momignards
et les locher criblant sans tre agit lui-meme.]
44 (return)
[ At night one sees
nothing, by day one sees very well; the bourgeois gets flurried over an
apocryphal scrawl, practice virtue, tutu, pointed hat!]
45 (return)
[ Chien, dog, trigger.]
46 (return)
[ Here is the morn
appearing. When shall we go to the forest, Charlot asked Charlotte. Tou,
tou, tou, for Chatou, I have but one God, one King, one half-farthing, and
one boot. And these two poor little wolves were as tipsy as sparrows from
having drunk dew and thyme very early in the morning. And these two poor
little things were as drunk as thrushes in a vineyard; a tiger laughed at
them in his cave. The one cursed, the other swore. When shall we go to the
forest? Charlot asked Charlotte.]
47 (return)
[ There swings the horrible
skeleton of a poor lover who hung himself.]
48 (return)
[ She astounds at ten
paces, she frightens at two, a wart inhabits her hazardous nose; you
tremble every instant lest she should blow it at you, and lest, some fine
day, her nose should tumble into her mouth.]
49 (return)
[ Matelote: a culinary
preparation of various fishes. Gibelotte: stewed rabbits.]
50 (return)
[ Treat if you can, and eat
if you dare.]
51 (return)
[ Bipde sans plume: biped
without feathers—pen.]
52 (return)
[ Municipal officer of
Toulouse.]
53 (return)
[ Do you remember our sweet
life, when we were both so young, and when we had no other desire in our
hearts than to be well dressed and in love? When, by adding your age to my
age, we could not count forty years between us, and when, in our humble
and tiny household, everything was spring to us even in winter. Fair days!
Manuel was proud and wise, Paris sat at sacred banquets, Foy launched
thunderbolts, and your corsage had a pin on which I pricked myself.
Everything gazed upon you. A briefless lawyer, when I took you to the
Prado to dine, you were so beautiful that the roses seemed to me to turn
round, and I heard them say: Is she not beautiful! How good she smells!
What billowing hair! Beneath her mantle she hides a wing. Her charming
bonnet is hardly unfolded. I wandered with thee, pressing thy supple arm.
The passers-by thought that love bewitched had wedded, in our happy
couple, the gentle month of April to the fair month of May. We lived
concealed, content, with closed doors, devouring love, that sweet
forbidden fruit. My mouth had not uttered a thing when thy heart had
already responded. The Sorbonne was the bucolic spot where I adored thee
from eve till morn. ‘Tis thus that an amorous soul applies the chart of
the Tender to the Latin country. O Place Maubert! O Place Dauphine! When
in the fresh spring-like hut thou didst draw thy stocking on thy delicate
leg, I saw a star in the depths of the garret. I have read a great deal of
Plato, but nothing of it remains by me; better than Malebranche and then
Lamennais thou didst demonstrate to me celestial goodness with a flower
which thou gavest to me, I obeyed thee, thou didst submit to me; oh gilded
garret! to lace thee! to behold thee going and coming from dawn in thy
chemise, gazing at thy young brow in thine ancient mirror! And who, then,
would forego the memory of those days of aurora and the firmament, of
flowers, of gauze and of moire, when love stammers a charming slang? Our
gardens consisted of a pot of tulips; thou didst mask the window with thy
petticoat; I took the earthenware bowl and I gave thee the Japanese cup.
And those great misfortunes which made us laugh! Thy cuff scorched, thy
boa lost! And that dear portrait of the divine Shakespeare which we sold
one evening that we might sup! I was a beggar and thou wert charitable. I
kissed thy fresh round arms in haste. A folio Dante served us as a table
on which to eat merrily a centime’s worth of chestnuts. The first time
that, in my joyous den, I snatched a kiss from thy fiery lip, when thou
wentest forth, dishevelled and blushing, I turned deathly pale and I
believed in God. Dost thou recall our innumerable joys, and all those
fichus changed to rags? Oh! what sighs from our hearts full of gloom
fluttered forth to the heavenly depths!]
54 (return)
[ My nose is in tears, my
friend Bugeaud, lend me thy gendarmes that I may say a word to them. With
a blue capote and a chicken in his shako, here’s the banlieue,
co-cocorico.]
55 (return)
[ Love letters.]
56 (return)
[
“The bird slanders in the elms, And pretends that yesterday, Atala Went off with a Russian, Where fair maids go. Lon la.
My friend Pierrot, thou pratest, because Mila knocked at her pane the other day and called me. The jades are very charming, their poison which bewitched me would intoxicate Monsieur Orfila. I’m fond of love and its bickerings, I love Agnes, I love Pamela, Lise burned herself in setting me aflame. In former days when I saw the mantillas of Suzette and of Zila, my soul mingled with their folds. Love, when thou gleamest in the dark thou crownest Lola with roses, I would lose my soul for that. Jeanne, at thy mirror thou deckest thyself! One fine day, my heart flew forth. I think that it is Jeanne who has it. At night, when I come from the quadrilles, I show Stella to the stars, and I say to them: “Behold her.” Where fair maids go, lon la.]
57 (return)
[ But some prisons still
remain, and I am going to put a stop to this sort of public order. Does
any one wish to play at skittles? The whole ancient world fell in ruin,
when the big ball rolled. Good old folks, let us smash with our crutches
that Louvre where the monarchy displayed itself in furbelows. We have
forced its gates. On that day, King Charles X. did not stick well and came
unglued.]
58 (return)
[ Steps on the Aventine
Hill, leading to the Tiber, to which the bodies of executed criminals were
dragged by hooks to be thrown into the Tiber.]
59 (return)
[ Mustards.]
60 (return)
[ From casser, to break:
break-necks.]
61 (return)
[ “Jeanne was born at
Fougre, a true shepherd’s nest; I adore her petticoat, the rogue.”
“Love, thou dwellest in her; For ‘tis in her eyes that thou placest thy
quiver, sly scamp!”
“As for me, I sing her, and I love, more than Diana herself, Jeanne and
her firm Breton breasts.”]
62 (return)
[ In allusion to the
expression, coiffer Sainte-Catherine, “to remain unmarried.”]
63 (return)
[ “Thus, hemming in the
course of thy musings, Alcippus, it is true that thou wilt wed ere long.”]
64 (return)
[ Tirer le diable par la
queue, “to live from hand to mouth.”]
65 (return)
[ “Triton trotted on
before, and drew from his conch-shell sounds so ravishing that he
delighted everyone!”]
66 (return)
[ “A Shrove-Tuesday
marriage will have no ungrateful children.”]
67 (return)
[ A short mask.]
68 (return)
[ In allusion to the story
of Prometheus.]
69 (return)
[ Un fafiot srieux. Fafiot
is the slang term for a bank-bill, derived from its rustling noise.]
70 (return)
[ He sleeps. Although his
fate was very strange, he lived. He died when he had no longer his angel.
The thing came to pass simply, of itself, as the night comes when day is
gone.]
