#lm 2.8.7

[cliozaur]

A coffin heist episode

The second illustration by Petr Pinkisevich

[lmchaptertitlebracket]

Round 3, Matchup 29: II.viii.7 vs V.i.14

Which chapter title do you prefer?

In Which We Find the Origins of the Saying: Don't Lose Your Card

In Which We Learn the Name of Enjolras' Mistress

Voting ended onJul 25, 2025

[secretmellowblog]

It’s fascinating how Jean Valjean is constantly associated with imagery of being buried alive.

His literal near-burial in the coffin outside Petit-Picpus is the most obvious example of that. But it’s in the sewers chapters as well— he has to face the horror of nearly drowning and being buried alive deep underground in the filth beneath the city.

And that imagery a running motif throughout his entire storyline. His imprisonment is constantly compared to as a burial, a living death; being in prison is like being trapped and drowned underneath an enormous weight, unable to move, unable to escape, with everyone around you refusing to acknowledge you are still a living human being.

In his dream before the Champmatheiu trial, Jean Valjean had a nightmare where he’s surrounded by a faceless crowd of indifferent people, who tell him:

‘Do you not know that you have been dead this long time?’

I opened my mouth to reply, and I perceived that there was no one near me.

The core horror of Jean Valjean’s plotline is the horror of being buried alive. It’s the horror of being constantly told that he is dead when he’s still living and suffering and desperately struggling to escape—- but suffering alone while he’s buried in a place so deep that no one can hear him.

[les-mis-daily-doodles]

they did it!!!!

[anglerfl3sh]

"I fell asleep" says man who just woke up from fainting in a grave. To the guy that just spent god knows how long in despair over said grave, solilloquizing about it

[dolphin1812]

Some of the dialogue here is so funny:

“By the way, you new man, have you your card?”

The grave-digger paused.

“What card?”

“The sun is on the point of setting.”

“That’s good, it is going to put on its nightcap.”

I love how Fauchelevent comes up with his own slightly contemptuous way of addressing Gribier as a way of asserting his own authority. Maybe Gribier won’t see him as anything other than “peasant,” but at least he can remind him that he’s “new” and, therefore, knows less about the job than he does. Of course, this is also very effective in making him anxious and doubtful, which serves Fauchelevent’s purpose well. His cleverness is on full display here; he very smoothly uses his seniority to convince Gribier that his advice will save him from that fine (his robbery skills are also impressive).

“It is going to put on its nightcap” is also such a hilarious reaction to being told “the sun is on the point of setting.” It fits so well with Gribier’s literary pretentiousness and with his obliviousness to what Fauchelevent’s saying.

Another wonderful line from Fauchelevent:

“ And you will bury your corpse. I’ll watch it for you in the meantime, so that it shall not run away.”

It’s both funny in that a corpse can’t move and in the ironic aspect of it, with us knowing that the “corpse” is going to leave as soon as Gribier’s gone.

Jean Valjean’s apparent calm is also funny when contrasted with Fauchelevent’s panic (sad as well, but funny). Fauchelevent’s lengthy speech here is what we’ve typically seen from the misérables, signifying both his distress and the fate that Father Madeleine saved him from. Valjean says very little because he’s generally taciturn (not having expressed himself at length since the bishop) and because he’s just experienced a great shock, but the simplicity of his lines (”I fell asleep”) still feels somewhat comical.

The Jean Valjean-Gribier parallels are strengthened with the depiction of his dwelling, reminding us of their similarities (caring for a woman and her children while making very little) and giving us an idea of what exactly Valjean’s early living situation looked like. Gribier’s relationship with his family seems worse, though (with signs that he beat the children; Valjean has been cruel to a child twice - Petit Gervais and one boy on his way to the trial in Arras - but not violent, and while we don’t know a lot about his past, incidents like these tend to spring him out of a moral crisis rather than just being part of his bad moments). Still, I’m glad that Fauchelevent brought the card back to him so he won’t suffer financially and that he seems to trust him because of it. And he offers to pay for drinks! Maybe Gribier will build a social circle and his family will suffer less because of it.

You can also tell that returning it was part of Fauchelevent’s plan because he enters through the door. Valjean would have broken into the house and left the card somewhere to avoid a conversation.

All in all, 10/10 coffin heist, but keeping in mind that grave-diggers are also people who live and die is probably a good idea.

[pureanonofficial]

LES MIS LETTERS IN ADAPTATION - In Which Will be Found the Origin of the Saying: Don't Lose the Card, LM 2.8.7 (Les Miserables 1967)

When the man had disappeared in the thicket, Fauchelevent listened until he heard his footsteps die away in the distance, then he leaned over the grave, and said in a low tone:—

“Father Madeleine!”

There was no reply.

Fauchelevent was seized with a shudder. He tumbled rather than climbed into the grave, flung himself on the head of the coffin and cried:—

“Are you there?”

Silence in the coffin.

Fauchelevent, hardly able to draw his breath for trembling, seized his cold chisel and his hammer, and pried up the coffin lid.

Jean Valjean’s face appeared in the twilight; it was pale and his eyes were closed.

Fauchelevent’s hair rose upright on his head, he sprang to his feet, then fell back against the side of the grave, ready to swoon on the coffin. He stared at Jean Valjean.

Jean Valjean lay there pallid and motionless.

[fremedon]

Brickclub 2.8.7, “In Which We Find the Origin of the Saying, ‘Ne Pa Perdre la Carte’“

The conclusion of the caper. 

A fifteen-franc fine--three hundred sous--is a horribly harsh thing to hold over the head of a workingman. It’s so inordinately steep, but the horrible thing is that I can actually see it not having been punitive in intent--a chain of “for sanitary reasons, we need to make sure no one gets into the graveyard after dark because of the dangerous miasmas!” “Yes! Let us impose a fine--one high enough to act as a deterrant--on anyone trespassing there after dark, where no one has legitimate business being anyway.” “But what about the gravediggers? They might be detained there after dark.” “Ah yes. We will issue all the gravediggers passes, and anyone caught without a pass will pay the fine. This solves the problem completely with no unintended consequences whatsoever.”

But of course there are unintended consequences, as of course we see when Fauchelevent, his ruse with the card having successfully gotten Gribier out of the way, comes to his garret to return the pick:

Lids were displaced, ragged clothing was scattered about, the jug was broken, the mother had been weeping, the children had probably been beaten: signs of a distraught and bad-tempered search. It was plain that the gravedigger had been frantically hunting for his pass and held everything in the garret, from the jug to his wife, responsible for its loss.

Gribier is not a good person. The incidental beating of the children is not neutral in this book, but it would have been in some books of the day, and that last line seems meant to make certain readers don’t give him a pass (as it were): Gribier is desperate and frightened, but his first instinct when frightened is to blame and punish other people for his mistakes.

But the text goes on: “But Fauchelevent was in too great a hurry to bring this adventure to a conclusion to notice this sorry side of his success.”

THIS. THIS IS BAD. This is a level of neon flashing bad I can’t believe I never noticed. The text even echoes the title of the chapter where Fantine sells her hair and teeth: “Consequences of Her [i.e., Mme Victurnien’s] Success.”

Being unaware of the collateral damage of one’s actions does not excuse them--the book has made that very clear and Valjean knows that; he feels his debt to Fantine all the more keenly because he did not know the harm his policies had done to her, and he should have. He feels, ultimately, grateful for his chance to save Champmathieu, rather than live ignorant of the level of harm his existence as Madeleine would have caused.

(I am also reminded of how Valjean’s attempt to get the wheel fixed en route to Arras is thrown into relief by Champmathieu’s speech about working as a wheelwright, in winter, for pushy customers who want things done immediately--retrospectively showing how things look on the other side of a transaction.)

Valjean is outside in the street, and when Fauchelevent stole the card he was unconscious, but this is still his plan, and its success has done harm that Valjean cannot remedy because he doesn’t know about it. This is a WRONG TURN.

And yet, on their way to Gribier’s, Fauchelevent, who one page ago was weeping, says “How well everything’s going! What a good idea that was of yours, Père Madeleine!”

Fauchelevent had the right of it before, when he thought Valjean was dead: “But how did he get inside the convent in the first places? That’s how it all started. People shouldn’t do things like that.”

(And, a bit later, asking a question that’s equally relevant to Valjean’s next burial: “What would you expect me to do if you’d died? And your little girl?”)

For all that Fauchelevent is happy--”Joy is the ebbing of terror,” Hugo remarks, as though that’s a normal thing to say, Victor are you ok?--he and Valjean are still feeling the Gothic uncanniness of the cemetery: “Even restored to their senses, these two men without realizing it were troubled in spirit and felt a strangeness inside them, which was the sinister effect of the place.”

And we see it in Valjean, who in contrast to Fauchelevent is completely impassive: 

Jean Valjean had some difficulty in moving and walking. He had grown stiff in that coffin and become a little corpse-like. The rigidity of death had taken hold of him inside that wooden box. He had, as it were, to thaw out from being in the grave.

“You’re numb,” Fauchelevent says, and Valjean’s response is “A few steps, and my legs will be fine.” Except it’s not just his legs, it’s his everything--and his manner continues to be weirdly numb all the way through his interview next chapter. Look at what he says in this chapter: “I fell asleep [i.e., passed out],” “I’m cold,” the line about his legs, and, in answer to Fauchelevent asking him to point out number 87, “This is it here.”

He doesn’t express any joy over being alive, or over the plan having worked.

He doesn’t ask after Cosette.

He doesn’t ask after Cosette.

Fauchelevent mentions Cosette! Valjean doesn’t, not even after Fauchelevent brings her up. That, more than anything, underscores what a very, very wrong path he’s on.

One character note I liked a lot--when Fauchelevent conceives of the ruse with the pass, the dialog shifts from Gribier addressing Fauchelevent as “Peasant” or “Provincial” to Fauchelvent addressing him as “Novice” or “Newcomer.” Fauchelevent is very, very aware of where the power lies in an interaction.