Nothing like a near death experience to get you to cave to every one of your grandson’s demands. Nothing about Gillenormand feels sincere because this was all just bullshit to him from the beginning! He never really had any issue with Marius marrying Cosette but he just couldn’t resist talking out of his ass when Marius came calling. It’s the very same thing Gillenormand has always done, threatened Marius with his cane and expected blind affection in response. He has so little genuine stake in any of the conflict happening around him that everyone else’s stakes barely register as anything more than a curiosity, like a billionaire watching the poor scrap over twenty dollars. He hasn’t changed a bit, he’s just guilty now.
And I’m salty because he calls Valjean “that mummy of the Regency and of the Directory” as if he isn’t still dressing like an incroyable dandy! He’s so insufferable! Certainly not projecting or anything of the sort. I’m grumbling because Marius gives in and calls him ‘Father’ way too readily and Gillenormand does not deserve it. Actually, I’ve changed my mind about this entire book, it does have a villain and his name is Gillenormand.
Another terrible chapter translation. I have “Mlle. Gillenormand at last thinks it not improper that Monsieur Fauchelevent should come in with something under his arm.” Nothing to do with the marriage match at all, but I can understand if this title was too long for Wraxall to make it through the entire thing.
Monsieur Tranchelevent, I’m…categorically dying. This is my last gasp.
These chapters are the Gillenormand special, he’s just a gross, old grandpa who makes inappropriate remarks and dated references. Not only does he speak way too openly about how much of a precious doll Cosette is, Gillenormand goes on about money in an unseemly way. I don’t really understand why he can’t just leave all his money, or a significant chunk of it, to Marius, “after my death, twenty years from now,” (ha!) or just…leave his annuity to Marius? Besides, Marius has a whole profession! He can certainly make a decent living as a lawyer, if not retired bourgeoisie money. Whatever, Valjean is secretly a rich paranoiac who—rightfully, if this annuity bullshit is the best society can offer—doesn’t bother with banks and has a hoard of money stashed away.
It’s around here when Marius’s thematic journey crumbles for me. After his entire journey of self discovery through poverty, love, and war, all for staunchly standing by his beliefs. The subsequent challenging of those beliefs and opportunities for learning and change. And where does he end up? Back at his rich grandfather’s house being called the Baron Pontmercy and guaranteed enough wealth to keep him in upper class comfort for the rest of his life. His changed beliefs don’t matter, watching all of his friends die for a cause doesn’t matter, having Cosette by his side doesn’t matter. Where’s the moment where Frodo realizes his experiences have changed him too profoundly for him to go back to his old life? This is a cry ending in a whimper. There is no “Do You Hear the People Sing (Reprise).”
Let’s forget money and admire some paintings of Cosette done by Jean-Baptiste Greuze. Gillenormand is right about some things.
At last, Marius gains the strength and the courage to tell his grandfather that he wants to marry. His grandfather agrees. He says that Cosette has been the one preparing all the lint and inquiring after him through her father. Gillenormand gives Marius permission to marry and then bursts into tears, and then Marius calls Gillenormand “father.” He promises to bring Cosette to see him that day.
In which Marius and Gillenormand finally reconcile, ie, Gillenormand has come around on the Cosette question.
Gillenormand knows Cosette’s address and has been making inquiries... Again, Hugo’s handwaving a bit, but the two obvious options here for how Gillenormand gets that address are: 1) JVJ showing up on Cosette’s behalf; 2) someone in the Gillenormand household finding the note Cosette sent which gives her name and address. The third is “Mlle G’s spy skills”, but considering how secretive Marius was about Cosette and how secretive JVJ is about his identity/address, and that all the living persons who know both Gillenormand’s address and Cosette’s are JVJ and Marius... The text doesn’t say what Marius did with Cosette’s letter, so I’m working on the assumption that he tucked it into his pocketbook (the only thing found on him when searched by JVJ and by Thénardier).
I still think Gillenormand and Prouvaire would have gotten along great. Or really really badly. Their shared esteem for André Cheniér and tendency to dress badly by 1830s standards could be fun to explore.
Marius uses ‘vous’ to start the conversation/attack, and Grandpa G uses ‘tu’ to him in response.
Marius and Gillenormand reconcile. That is, Marius reiterates his wish to marry Cosette, while Gillenormand agrees to everything Marius says and then some.
Gillenormand has very definitely changed his sentiments to what he thinks Marius wants to hear ('Yay '93!'). Also, the whole thing with Andre Chenier just reinforces my desire for an AU where Jehan and Gillenormand hang out together.
Marius uses 'vous' for his grandfather, who uses 'tu' for him.
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“There’s a little boutique store down here,” Darren said. “But they have a cafe on the top floor. We’re gonna go hit that.”
“Let’s go shock some snobs!” Izzy said.
The ‘little boutique’ was a four-story building. We went past thousand-dollar shirts and hundred-dollar scarves before hitting the top floor.
“Did you have reservations?” the host asked us.
“No, we’re pretty sure we want to eat here,” Izzy said.
He looked at us like we were bugs, but a wry smile crossed his face. “Follow me.”
We were seated in the dead-center of the cafe. I’m not sure if the host meant to make examples of us or if this was his own revenge on the usual patrons, but the chairs were comfortable and the table didn’t feel cramped.
Our water was, of course, sparking.
“We’d like to start with your calamari fries, if we may,” Darren told the waitress. “And if those would be accompanied by the mango salsa, that would be capital.”
I was reminded of Emmy’s description of the prototype Heckle and Jeckle. They were taking on a role and filling it delightfully.
Izzy requested the chicken sandwich, “But if we could forgo with the kale slaw on that. I feel its brightness is somewhat jarring to the dish, like a flash going off in a dark room.”
Darren ordered the double cheeseburger. “However,” he said. “If we could replace those caramelized onions with the crispy ones from your French dip, that would be preferable.”
“I’ll have the meatball sub,” I said.
“You haven’t been here before,” the waitress observed.
“Is there something specifically I should change?” I asked.
Darren and Izzy shook their heads.
The calamari fries were fantastic: not soggy or chewy. I’d have to look this place up later and see if I could bring Morgan down. With reservations, of course.
The sandwiches were great. My meatball sub wasn’t as greasy as I’d feared it would be. Izzy and Darren were both happy with that they had ordered.
The cafe filled up around us while we ate. I knew we were getting the occasional stare from the other patrons. Many of them had full shopping bags at their tables.
Halfway through the meal, it was announced that one couple was celebrating their forty-fifth wedding anniversary. Everyone clapped.
This older couple looked both proud for the accomplishment and embarrassed by the attention. They looked almost as out of place as we did; no designer clothes. His shoes were worn at the toes; the collar on her coat was slightly frayed. But, I also saw how he reached to her while everyone was clapping; just a faint touch of her hand. She lightened at his gesture, replying with a brush of fingers across his knuckles. This will pass. Let them have their fun.
Everyone around us was so brittle and proper. The couple glanced at me; I had stopped clapping along with the others and just sat with my hands in my lap.
I turned to Izzy and Darren. “Do you think they ordered dessert already?” I asked.
“We can do better than that,” Darren said, waving the waitress over.
“Christmas is next week, anyway,” Izzy said. “Why not?”
It turned out, the older couple had ordered a very modest meal, the two cheapest items on the menu. The three of us agreed we’d cover it.
“Don’t tell them it was us,” Darren added.
We paid the bill, but sat around for a bit, just to see how everyone reacted.
It took a bit, but when the waiter informed the couple their meal had been covered, the wife started to tear up.
“Oh god, I’m gonna cry,” Izzy said, turning her head.
The husband stood up, ringing his glass with a fork. Everyone stopped their chatter to listen.
“I don’t know who you are,” he said. His accent was very thick: Eastern European. “But may God keep you. There is no blessing said before an act of charity, but bless you, from me and my wife. God keep and bless you. Thank you. Thank you.”
Darren sniffed loudly and rubbed his eyes.
“This is the best lunch adventure ever,” Izzy said, holding her napkin to her face.
Everyone in the cafe was looking around, hoping to maybe spot the mystery patron. I looked around as well, mostly to see how everyone reacted, and saw a large man seated by himself near the kitchen. He hadn’t reacted at all.
I pointed him out to Darren and Izzy.
“Let’s get out of here,” Darren whispered. “Before everyone decides it’s him.”
On the walk back, Izzy started to sing. “We three kings of Orient are...”
“Trying to light a trick cigar...” I added.
Darren joined in. “It was loaded. It ex-plo-ode-ed.”
“BANG!” the three of us shouted.
And we fell into giggles.
Christmas was next week. All the shop fronts had decorated for the holiday: Santa, deer, Christmas trees. Lights had been strung up across the streets. There was a busker at the station playing carols on his saxophone. I threw a few bucks in his hat.
I debated on whether to tell Kristi and Gabi what had happened, then decided not to. Really, that act of kindness had only cost me about eight bucks and it’s tacky to toot your own horn. Izzy and Darren could fill them in if it was necessary.
Of course, I’m telling you, but you don’t really know who I am or where this even happened. I can tell you about how Darren took my idea and made it better and how Izzy agreed. These are good people I work with and I like them. There’s something about cold weather and long nights that reminds us of our own dark times and drives us to spread the little light we have. It might be why our fiercest celebrations are in the middle of the winter. We’re all going to die. Let’s have a good time, together.
That night, Lolo was playing music about ice and snow on her show. I’d missed last week’s celebration of lights and latkes.
Me: You’re not going to play that date rape song, are you?
Lolo: You mean “Baby, it’s Cold Outside”? That’s more about female agency, really. The woman singing is making excuses to spend the night.
Me: “Say, what’s in this drink?” Yeah, she’s *totally* in charge there. They’re specifically called the MOUSE and the WOLF.
Lolo: I got Rod Stewart and Dolly Parton. You just try to pull something on Dolly. She’ll mess you up.
It was the top of the hour and Lolo broke in to announce her station identification and introduce the next song.
“This next track goes out to a buddy of mine working downtown,” she purred into the mic. “Dedicated to rolling shelter in these cold, wet times.”
And she played Louis Armstrong’s “Hobo, You Can’t Ride This Train”.
Me: You’re going to hell.
Lolo: I’m driving the bus. And you’re riding with for laughing.
Me: They’re extending my contract. And I put in for a perm position.
Lolo: We’ll have to make the right sacrifice. Full moon on Christmas.
Me: Why are you like this?
Lolo: Afraid of going grayface. If it’s all a joke, it hurts less when people don’t get it.
LesMis Readalong 5.5.2-5.5.4 or 10+ ways Gillenormand continues to be horrible person
As presented by @midautumnnightdream, @aflamethatneverdies and @vapaus-ystavyys-tasaarvo
1. Using Cosette as bargaining chip to manipulate on Marius feelings
2. He's horrible to his own daughter, like ugh!
3. Continuing to act like everything Marius does and chooses to be is All About Him
4. Hitting on Cosette, such a pervert! 'If I was 15 years younger speech....'
5. Harrasses women around him (Nicolette, the neighbour, etc)
6. That whole speech about women should marry and reproduce and not be spinsters.
7. Takes his emotions, both positive an negative, out on innocent bystanders, especially his employees
8. Casually talks about how Cosette would have died alongside Marius
9. Can't be bothered to remember Valjean's real fake name
10. Still hates on the revolutionaries and Republican ideas, when Marius talks about the French Rev and 93. And is still proud of his royalist roots.
11. Bothers the doctor trying to do his job
12. Makes fun of his grandson's genuine distress. Genuine distress about being at his mercy no less
13. Manipulates situations to make them about him. Marius is seriously injured yet the whole thing has to be about G and his various antics.
14. Presents the treat of meeting with Cosette as a reward for calling him "father" several times, making it very clear that Marius is still in his mercy
15. Is obnoxious about people who carry books around
16. Keeps the fact that Cosette is still in Paris and still wants Marius and that they can get married from Marius for ages until Marius himself brings it up even though he OBVIOUSLY KNOWS that this is upsetting Marius
