Domino

21 - studente taal-en letterkunde - schrijfster in hart en nieren, hopelijk ook ooit op papier

[ikmoetwatkwijt]

Ik vind jou in alles terug

(via rakendewoordjes)

[inmijnpen-blog]

De zon streelde mijn gezicht terwijl ik uitgeput in dromenland verbleef

Ik hou van dutjes

[inmijnpen-blog]

Just read Les Misérables. I’m in love with the book even more than with the musical and I still feel like I’ve lost a close friend - so empty.

(Net Les Misérables gelezen. Ik houd nog meer van het boek dan van de musical en ik voel me nog steeds alsof ik een goede vriend verloren ben - zo leeg)

[inmijnpen-blog]

Ogen zijn maar gewoon ogen, tot ze je in vuur en vlam zetten en je beseft dat ze misschien zelfs een beetje ziel in zich dragen.

Voor altijd hier, Sweek

[feully-blog]

there is a  l i f e  

about to start when 

t o m o r r o w    c o m e s

[jiubilee]

The real tragedy about the barricade is that we don’t know how much is true. Victor Hugo was there at the June Rebellion, so what is fact and what is fiction? That question gives me chills because we’ll never know. 

[enjolras-in-valinor]

Charles Jeanne (who I think is probably actual real life Enjolras) wrote an in-detail account of the ACTUAL barricades in a letter to his sister after the fact

you can read it, tenlittlebullets translated it into English :)

it’s really graphic, he leaves no gory details out, just FYI if you’re gonna read it, keep TW: VIOLENCE  in mind

[tenlittlebullets]

#how is he real-life enjolras if he survived (via metellus-cimber)

I’m so glad somebody asked this, because the answer is: when they finally ran out of ammunition, Charles Jeanne rounded up everyone who was still standing, went, “look, if we’re going to die, we might as well die fighting,” and led a suicidal ten-man charge against an entire flippin’ infantry column, armed with nothing but bayonets. The first few ranks of soldiers were so unprepared for such a spectacularly insane attack that they were too surprised to shoot. They crossed bayonets and tried to hold the insurgents off in hand-to-hand combat, but Jeanne’s swordsmanship was apparently aces, because he held off a bunch of them at once and covered his friends as they tried to breach the ranks. And once they were in, nobody could shoot them for fear of taking out their own guys.

So the last stand that the insurgents had intended as a noble suicide ended in them breaking through the ranks entirely and winding up in the next street over, outside the combat zone, going “well shit, what do we do now?” (I’m guessing the infantry column wasn’t very deep; central Paris at that point was a rabbit warren of narrow twisty streets, and assembling troops en masse for an organized attack was a logistical nightmare.) Unlike the National Guard, the army weren’t total chumps and got themselves turned around to give chase and start shooting once they weren’t at risk of friendly fire any longer… and that’s when all the civilians holed up in their houses went “no way, you’re not getting your hands on these crazy bastards” and started hurling furniture and crockery down on the soldiers’ heads. Jeanne was understandably distracted at the time, but afterwards somebody informed him that the barrage of unlikely projectiles included a piano. A piano. That is some straight-up Looney Tunes slapstick right there. No wonder Hugo went for the heroic death scene instead; if he’d stuck to real life, he probably would’ve gotten complaints that he’d wrecked his readers’ suspension of disbelief.

Anyway, someone opened an alley gate for them to shelter in and take stock of the casualties—most of them survived(!!!), but a few were pretty nastily wounded. Their host then had to lock Charles Jeanne in to keep him from charging right back out and taking on the whole goddamn army singlehanded. He probably would’ve broken down the door if the poor man hadn’t pointed out that going back out would give away his wounded comrades’ hiding place and the identities of the people sheltering them. They sat there listening to the gunfire gradually slow and go silent, and then in the middle of the night the ones who could still walk were allowed to slip away one by one at long intervals from each other. Charles Jeanne went straight home, slept like the dead for a few hours, was woken up at five in the morning with a warning that he’d been denounced and the building was surrounded, and then slipped out in disguise and managed to evade the police for four months before a former comrade ratted him out and he was arrested.

And this, ladies and gentlemen, is why Charles Jeanne’s letter is an absolute treasure that deserves to be available to anyone in Les Mis fandom who wants to read it. Incidentally, “how Actual Historical Enjolras survived the barricades by being too good at his suicide mission” is also one of the stories I tell when anyone asks me what the hell is so interesting about researching people nobody’s ever heard of from an obscure chapter of French history. 

[pilferingapples]

#charles jeanne#what a BAMF#and then he managed to derail the whole trial with impassioned noble speeches and dramatic gestures worthy of a Hugo play#while visibly dying of consumption#seriously how was this dude even real#saint merry#june rebellion#à cinq heures nous serons tous morts#1832#history geeking ahoy

[inmijnpen-blog]

We waren samen één - twee helften van een puzzel die in elkaar klikten en pasten alsof het zo hoorde. Tot ik besefte dat ik niet half ben, dat ik geen passend stuk mis, maar een sterke plank om op te steunen.

Kan jij mijn plank zijn?

[inmijnpen-blog]

Mijn hoofd in de wolken mijn haren in de wind

Stap voor stap een beetje verder van wat moet

Niet denken aan later

Gewoon zweven in gedachten en onbezorgd dromen

[queeranne]

[inmijnpen-blog]

“Vandaag is een mooie dag.” De zon streelt mijn huid, er is geen wolkje aan de hemel te bespeuren en ik bevind me in een van mijn favoriete steden.

“Je bent gelukkig.” Ik knik.

“Heel gelukkig.”

- Het begin van mijn verhaal “Lichtjes verloren” op Sweek

[ga-mee-verdwalen]

De grootste fout die ik in mijn leven heb gemaakt, is mensen langer in mijn leven laten blijven dan ze verdienen.

(via ga-mee-verdwalen)

[inmijnpen-blog]

Levensvragen.

[inmijnpen-blog]

Stilte

“Waarom ben je zo stil?”, vroeg hij me. Ik glimlachte, haalde mijn schouders op en dacht enkele seconden na.

“Waarom praten mensen zoveel zonder iets te zeggen?”, antwoordde ik uiteindelijk. Hij wist het niet.

[moritzys]

Your dash has been visited by Vicky Hugo’s desk, reblog for protection against writers block

[jeanprouvaires]

have you asked of yourself,          what’s the p r i c e you might pay