#lm 1.2.9

[scuttleton]

LM 1.2.9

Jean Valjean had been dazzled by the idea of liberty. He had believed in a new life. He very quickly saw what kind of liberty it was to which a yellow passport is given.

Turned away even from a night's rest in the local jail B(

Release is not freedom. You are let out of prison, but you continue to serve your sentence.

Seriously. The justice system is broken in many ways, and that's definitely one of them. It's not a process that helps people change for the better, to succeed and do good once they're out. It's no wonder those who have been imprisoned once are so likely to return—they're practically cornered into a situation that encourages it.

1.2.10

Those six sets of silver preyed on him. They were right there. A few paces away.

Man 😔 I knew it

Don't do it... put that miner's candlestick away, I don't trust the pointy end... At least, if you're gonna steal, don't hurt the folks who live here.

1.2.11

He pushed it gently with his finger, with that furtive and circumspect delicacy of a cat that wants to come in.

My cat has never entered a room furtively in her life. She shoves her way in with a loud, announcing meow every time. Sometimes more than one meow, especially if I don't say hi in response.

Thank you sky for parting the clouds and making our sleeping bishop look holy 🙏

What was obvious was that he was emotionally affected and confused. But what was the nature of his emotion? He did not take his eyes off the old man. The only thing clearly evident from his attitude and the expression on his face was a strange indecision. He seemed to be hovering between two abysses – that of perdition and that of salvation. He looked as if he were about to crush that skull or kiss that hand.

Please do not crush that skull please do not crush that skull

Well. He took the silverware (the one thing Myriel was kinda actually attached to that was of good quality 😔 poor guy gonna have to eat with something else...) but I. Well. I kinda figured that may be where this was going. That silverware might as well have been a loaded gun.

1.2.12

‘Monseigneur, Monseigneur!’ she exclaimed. ‘Does Your Highness know where the silverware basket is?’ ‘Yes,’ replied the bishop. ‘Blessed be the Lord Jesus!’ she said. ‘I didn’t know what had become of it.’ The bishop had just found the basket in a flowerbed. He handed it to Madame Magloire. ‘Here it is.’ ‘Well?’ she said. ‘It’s empty! What about the silverware?’ ‘Ah,’ replied the bishop. ‘So it’s the silverware you’re worried about? I don’t know where that is.’

BAHAHAHS HE'S SO CHILL ABOUT IT

I should have expected nothing less from my beloved Bishop Myriel <3

...Oh, the wicked fellow! He’s stolen our silver!’ The bishop remained silent for a moment, then raised his solemn gaze and said quietly to Madame Magloire, ‘Now was that silver ours in the first place?’ Madame Magloire was left speechless. There was another silence, then the bishop went on, ‘Madame Magloire, I’ve been wrongfully keeping that silver for a long time. It belonged to the poor. And what was that man? Obviously one of the poor.’ ‘Dear Jesus!’ said Madame Magloire. ‘It’s not for me, or Mademoiselle. It makes no difference to us. But it’s for Monseigneur. What’s Monseigneur to eat with now?’ The bishop gazed at her with an expression of amazement. ‘Ah, come now! Haven’t we some pewter cutlery?’ Madame Magloire shrugged. ‘Pewter has a smell.’ ‘Tin cutlery, then.’ Madame Magloire gave a meaningful grimace. ‘Tin leaves a taste in your mouth.’ ‘Very well,’ said the bishop, ‘wooden cutlery.’

Oh shoot well that didn't last long they caught Jean already huh

‘Ah! There you are!’ he exclaimed, looking at Jean Valjean. ‘I’m glad to see you. Now, look here, I gave you those candlesticks as well, they’re silver like the rest and you’ll certainly be able to get two hundred francs for them. Why didn’t you take them with your forks and spoons?’ Jean Valjean’s eyes widened, and he stared at the venerable bishop with an expression no human tongue can describe.

ME TOO JEAN IM SITITNG HERE LIKE

Whaaaat what

what!!!!!

Bro..... br o ....

He coulda just let him go normal like..... Like that I'd expect, honestly, but... I didn't even think, like. The extra mile happening here????????

If I were Jean I'd be some combo of

And

because like. What. This guy an angel? A saint? Am I gonna like explode in the next ten seconds or get dragged to some kinda hell for trying to steal from the actual most pure and good human being in the world??? More than ever I think I'd feel like my life is over. Like dang I did that to this guy and yet he gave me more. Forget it man I don't deserve to live peace out

I mean I didn't get Marius' whole debt slavery thing before but I do now. I'd give my entire life over to this man after that. If he'd let me I'd just dedicate myself to whatever the heck help he needs or else the guilt may eat me alive. If he refused me welp. See above paragraph.

Dang. Paragraphs filed under gotta just sit for a minute with it.

The bishop went up to him and said quietly, ‘Don’t forget, never forget, you promised to use this money to become an honest man.’ Jean Valjean, who had no recollection of having made any promise, remained dumbfounded. The bishop had dwelled on these words as he said them. He went on with a kind of solemnity, ‘Jean Valjean, my brother, you’re no longer owned by evil but by good. It’s your soul I’m buying. I’m redeeming it from dark thoughts and the spirit of perdition, and I’m giving it to God.’

Yeah you know what if that's what he asked forget it man that's my life now o7

Dang. Near enough to make a grown man cry

1.2.13

He was prey to a host of new sensations. He felt a kind of rage, he knew not against whom. He would have been unable to say whether he felt touched or humiliated. He was overcome at times with an unfamiliar susceptibility to emotion, which he fought against, resisting it with the hardening of his heart over the last twenty years. Being in this state tired him. He saw with dismay the disintegration within him of that sort of appalling calm that the injustice of his misfortune had bestowed on him. He wondered what would replace it. At times he truly would have preferred to be in prison with the gendarmes, and for things not to have turned out like this. It would have been less disturbing.

I mean honestly, yeah. He had filled himself up with hatred, had become certain that there was no good out there, and then THIS? Comes across and is the direct recipient of all the good that can come from the Goodest man in the world. Completely upends everything. Hardened his heart to protect it and then this? Terrifying.

JEAN COME ON YOU CAN'T NOT GIVE THIS KID HIS COIN BACK AFTER THAT

Bro... c'mon... did you seriously not register the kid was asking for his coin back...? That's a decent chunk of change, he needs that to live B( you better find him and give it back 🫵 or I will be very upset with you

OH GOOD HE'S SEARCHING FOR THE KID

He met a priest on horseback. He went up to him and said, ‘Monsieur le curé, have you seen a child go by?’ ‘No,’ said the priest. ‘One by the name of Petit-Gervais?’ ‘I’ve not seen anyone.’ He drew two five-franc pieces from his purse and handed them to the priest. ‘Monsieur le curé, take this for your poor. Monsieur le curé, he’s a little lad, about ten years old, with a marmot, I think, and a hurdy-gurdy. One of those wandering Savoyards, you know?’ ‘I haven’t seen him.’ ‘Petit-Gervais? He’s not from one of the villages hereabouts? Can you tell me?’ ‘From what you say, my friend, the child’s a little stranger. They pass through. We don’t know them.’ Jean Valjean seized another two five-franc coins and thrust them at the priest. ‘For your poor,’ he said. Then he added wildly, ‘Monsieur l’abbé, have me arrested. I’m a thief.’

Woah dang okay

He has been changed, look at him go

(turns to Marius)

LOOK AT HIM GO LOOK AT HOW BEAUTIFULLY HE'S BLOSSOMING. COUGH COUGH. (But Marius does not hear.)

His legs suddenly gave way beneath him as though all at once some invisible power had crushed him with the weight of his own bad conscience. He collapsed on a large stone, exhausted, with his hands in his hair and his face in his lap, and he cried, ‘I’m a wretch!’ Then his heart burst and he began to weep. It was the first time he had wept in nineteen years.

Bruh 😭

Dang... ngl upset the kid didn't get his coin back B(( but glad he went through so much effort to try.

And with that, I've reached a new book, and will therefore pause here.

[les-mis-daily-doodles]

freedom!! but at what cost?

[coralreeferband]

25 sous in Denny but only 15 in Fahnestock/MacAfee

I think Jean Valjean would rather live in the Denny version

[lmchaptertitlebracket]

Round 1, Matchup 23: I.ii.9 vs III.viii.11

Which chapter title do you prefer?

New Griefs

Offers of Service by Misery to Grief

Voting ended onApr 20, 2025

[lesmisletters-daily]

New Troubles

Les Mis Letters reading club explores one chapter of Les Misérables every day. Join us on Discord, Substack - or share your thoughts right here on tumblr - today's tag is #lm 1.2.9

When the hour came for him to take his departure from the galleys, when Jean Valjean heard in his ear the strange words, <i>Thou art free!</i> the moment seemed improbable and unprecedented; a ray of vivid light, a ray of the true light of the living, suddenly penetrated within him. But it was not long before this ray paled. Jean Valjean had been dazzled by the idea of liberty. He had believed in a new life. He very speedily perceived what sort of liberty it is to which a yellow passport is provided.

And this was encompassed with much bitterness. He had calculated that his earnings, during his sojourn in the galleys, ought to amount to a hundred and seventy-one francs. It is but just to add that he had forgotten to include in his calculations the forced repose of Sundays and festival days during nineteen years, which entailed a diminution of about eighty francs. At all events, his hoard had been reduced by various local levies to the sum of one hundred and nine francs fifteen sous, which had been counted out to him on his departure. He had understood nothing of this, and had thought himself wronged. Let us say the word—robbed.

On the day following his liberation, he saw, at Grasse, in front of an orange-flower distillery, some men engaged in unloading bales. He offered his services. Business was pressing; they were accepted. He set to work. He was intelligent, robust, adroit; he did his best; the master seemed pleased. While he was at work, a gendarme passed, observed him, and demanded his papers. It was necessary to show him the yellow passport. That done, Jean Valjean resumed his labor. A little while before he had questioned one of the workmen as to the amount which they earned each day at this occupation; he had been told <i>thirty sous</i>. When evening arrived, as he was forced to set out again on the following day, he presented himself to the owner of the distillery and requested to be paid. The owner did not utter a word, but handed him fifteen sous. He objected. He was told, <i>“That is enough for thee.”</i> He persisted. The master looked him straight between the eyes, and said to him <i>“Beware of the prison.”</i>

There, again, he considered that he had been robbed.

Society, the State, by diminishing his hoard, had robbed him wholesale. Now it was the individual who was robbing him at retail.

Liberation is not deliverance. One gets free from the galleys, but not from the sentence.

That is what happened to him at Grasse. We have seen in what manner he was received at D——

[pureanonofficial]

LES MIS LETTERS IN ADAPTATION - New Troubles, LM 1.2.9 (Les Miserables 1952)

Jean Valjean had been dazzled by the idea of liberty. He had believed in a new life. He very speedily perceived what sort of liberty it is to which a yellow passport is provided.

[cliozaur]

This chapter resonates deeply with the theme of unfulfilled expectations and the gnawing bitterness of frustration.  I can't help but reflect on how brilliantly the musical captured the beginning of this chapter: "when Jean Valjean heard in his ear the strange words, Thou art free! the moment seemed improbable and unprecedented": "Yes, it means I'm free," followed by Javert's sinister "No."

The meagre compensation offered to convicts after their gruelling hard labour sparks righteous indignation. It's no wonder Valjean feels cheated and robbed. However, it's also commendable that he could calculate how much the penitentiary system owed him – a testament to his sharp intellect and unwavering sense of injustice.

Hugo continues his scathing indictment of society, casting it as one of the story's primary antagonists. Society's predatory behaviour towards ex-convicts, capitalizing on their vulnerability and desperate situation after release, is nothing short of sickening. Reducing their wages to half the standard rate is an abhorrent act of exploitation, further fuelling the cycle of poverty and despair. On the other hand, this was precisely how most female labour was rewarded at that time. Like ex-convicts, women were largely considered expendable and easily manipulated, their contributions undervalued and unfairly compensated. This societal prejudice fuelled a system that kept both groups trapped in a vicious cycle of marginalization and economic hardship. Hugo will explore this topic as well, just wait for it.

[dolphin1812]

Hugo states from the second paragraph that this chapter is about how Valjean has been “robbed” on multiple levels, his singular instance of outright theft justifying repeated thefts by society and individuals.

So much of what he lost (monetarily) in prison is obviously exploitative. For instance, he didn’t choose to rest on Sundays and festival days, but those still counted against him. He similarly had no way of knowing about the local levies. While of course the loss of his money is a literal robbery by the state, it also robs him of something less material: security and confidence as he leaves prison. Having spent those years calculating his earnings, Valjean likely had some idea of how he could invest that money (costs of food and housing, for instance). Finding out so late that he was to be given significantly less than expected would have altered those expectations, leaving him unable to plan in the same way (or at least count on the same sum) at the last minute. While he still had enough for immediate daily expenses (assuming he were allowed to be customer, as we’ve seen), any long-term plans would likely be impacted by that difference in francs.

His experience at Grasse is, as Hugo says, an example of how individuals rob him, as his yellow passport convinces them that they can pay him lower wages. While his poor reception is similar to Digne, it’s also interesting for how it’s different. In Digne, Valjean was known to be a criminal; almost all interactions with him immediately went to that point. Here, we get signs of how he was treated before showing his passport. Another worker, for example, was willing to share the expected salary with him when he asked what it was, and the man in charge was impressed by his skill. There is a slight bit of irony in the traits the man values in Valjean; he appreciates his strength and intelligence, and while these were traits he possessed before prison, they were also traits he cultivated there through labor and study. If it were not for that passport, Valjean’s skills as a convict would have made him exceptionally useful and valuable. But that yellow paper made him worth half as much as the other men and made the man in charge feel justified in insulting him (by saying he should beware of prison).

The idea of robbery is also such a fascinating way of presenting the main idea of this chapter: the false liberty given to prisoners. Hugo says:

“Liberation is not deliverance. One gets free from the galleys, but not from the sentence.”

While Valjean’s “sentence” included labor, the most dehumanizing aspect was not being treated as a person, and now that he’s “free,” that continues. The right to be free from robbery would be expected by any other member of society. But because he’s a convict (even though his sentence has ended), that rule doesn’t apply to him.