roseinapril

[roseinapril]

I love how Les Mis (the original novel) is so fundamentally hopeful about the power of rebellion and activism. So many adaptations/retellings of Les Mis imply its message is kinda shallow and defeatist— something about how rebellion never changes anything/always puts you back right where you began, so it’s wiser to never stand against the government. But that’s not the novel at all.

The original novel, which Hugo wrote as a barely-veiled call to action against the government of Napoleon III, is so convinced of the value of resistance against tyranny. The message is not that resistance is doomed to fail— it is that resistance to an unjust government is imperative, and it will be a moral victory even if the resistance is crushed.

The June rebellion in Les mis May have been repressed, and it may have failed in its goal of overthrowing the monarchy— but later rebellions did eventually succeed. France doesn’t have a monarchy anymore. A democracy is now in place, the way the rebels of 1832 would’ve wanted. There’s an undercurrent of hope throughout Les Mis— it’s not a story about how rebellion/resistance is futile, it’s a story about how it’s necessary, and about how positive social change is not only possible but also inevitable.

#Hope #les miserables

[roseinapril]

[roseinapril]

characters who view themselves as tools/weapons first and people second... characters who martyr themselves for a cause because they think that's the only way they can be worth something... characters who push themselves past their breaking point again and again and again... characters for whom devotion and masochism are inseparable... characters whose self-sacrifice becomes self-annihilation...... what was my point again? i had a point. anyway.

[roseinapril]

#mahsa amini #free iran #help iran #save iran

[roseinapril]

I love Grantaire falling in love first as much as the next person, but what if Enjolras was the first one in love. What if he was pinning first? Everytime Grantaire teased him or mocked him, it would tear Enjolras apart. He would get extra wine for Grantaire who would just roll his eyes. Grantaire would still call him Apollo, but this time it makes Enjolras blush and melt. E, would still say that Grantaire doesn't believe in anything, but he says it as sad as possible. In a way that Grantaire would smile. R would say, "I believe in you," as the rest get ready for the last battle. R would then fall asleep leaving Enjolras wide-eyed and red.

Than comes their death. Enjolras would be thinking about how he left so much unsaid, and would regret his last words to Grantaire.

Than he hears a voice shout, "Long live the Republic, I am one of them." He looks up and sees Grantaire, he fights the urge to run into his arms. He remembers how Grantaire never liked the revelation, and searches for a reason why R would join them now. Why didn't he run.

Grantaire looks at Enjolras, "Do you permit it?" R holds out his hand for Enjolras to take it. Enjolras takes it as he squeeze it tightly, wanting the last and first touch they have, to be the only thing he feels as death takes over.....

Or it could be modern Who knows.

[roseinapril]

Happy pride month to those who are scared

Happy pride month to those who are proud

Happy pride month to those who are out

Happy pride month to those who are closeted

Happy pride month if you’re trying to figure yourself out

Happy pride month if you’ve known for years

Happy pride month to those who it’s their first

Happy pride month to those who have celebrated for years

Happy pride month to those who are afraid to celebrate

Happy pride month to those who will scream it from the rooftops

Happy pride month to you.

[roseinapril]

A very smol ficlet for @midautumnnightdream as a birthday present. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Dear Friend!! <3

Prouvaire had eagerly seized one of the first copies of Notre Dame de Paris when it had appeared at the nearest bookstore and read half of it there. Then because the owner, M. Allard was becoming impatient due to the influx of visitors asking for copies of Notre Dame and requesting meetings with Victor Hugo, the author; he deposited a few sous and walked around the streets devouring the rest of the book before knocking on Bahorel’s door excitedly.

The door took a few seconds to open, which seemed an eternity to Prouvaire, bursting with excitement as he was to talk about the latest book from M. Hugo.

Enjolras, dressed simply in a warm black coat, opened the door and pressed his friend's hand warmly in lieu of greeting him with a smile.

“There was some trouble early in the morning,” he began, “But I have been to the police station and he will be released in a few hours.”

Prouvaire swept his gaze at the room, the sheets were still crumpled and had not been made, the door of Bahorel’s wardrobe was still flung open, there were assorted skulls and daggers on the mantle and a few pieces of art they had rescued from Rue du Doyenne in the corner.

“Would you like to keep me company?” Enjolras asked, his face gentle. Prouvaire nodded and flung himself on the bed beside Enjolras, leaving several muddy footmarks around the room.

“Is this a new book?” Enjolras asked as Prouvaire watched the dying sunset in silence from the window and wrote a few scribbles on the pieces of paper he always carried around.

“Yes, by Hugo, Victor Hugo,” he pushed a few strands of long hair away from his face, “I’ve met him in a few Cenacle gatherings. The author of Hernani-the theatre riots last year?”

Enjolras nodded, he remembered the month and the riots vividly. The newspapers talked of nothing else for a month. Prouvaire and Bahorel had also received many angry letters from neoclassicist playwrights and he had heard Monsieur Hugo had received a bullet through his window. People could be so charged and heated over art. That was the moment, Enjolras had understood; what Prouvaire often talked about, how poetry and revolution were almost the same to him. Because Prouvaire was a poet, he had to be a revolutionary, he couldn't be anything else with this well of feelings, this great pouring of sentiment flowing inside him.

The silence filled between them as they watched the sun spread it’s last few ember glows, painting them all over the horizon.

“M. Hugo has one of his characters talk about the printing press overtaking architecture.” Prouvaire punctured the silence as he finished his scribblings, “I…wrote a poem on how Dom Claude is wrong. I think Notre Dame’s edificies may be swallowed by time’s flow, derelict and in need of repair as it stands. But people will still visit the ruins and read M. Hugo’s work about it and it will stand, all majestic, full of glory in their imagination. It will be the book that will keep the edifice in public memory long after we’re gone.

M. Hugo also intends the book to revive interest in Notre Dame enough to have it restored. ”

Enjolras’ smile grew into a pleasant laugh, “What else does M. Hugo say about the printing press? We’ve been moving to the cylinder presses at my uncle’s shop. They are much faster than the flatbed ones. We still have a few of those. But the cylinder presses have made such a difference. We can print many pamphlets and books. My uncle is always talking to merchants from Germany, and from the Americas. He is also working on improving our typesetting.”

Prouvaire’s eyes shone, “I have also spent many hours thinking of a mobile typesetting machine that would improve the printing ever since I first visited your uncle’s printing press.” His voice dropped a few notes of intensity and became shy, “I have a prototype that is so close to working.”

Enjolras took Prouvaire’s hand in his, “Oh that is exciting news, Prouvaire. You are envisioning the future of printing.”

Prouvaire looked away sadly, “I have been working on it instead of attending medical school as my father expects of me. But it is such an interesting problem to solve.”

“Do you think I can take a look? Perhaps we can work on this future together as well?” Enjolras gazed at the view outside with Prouvaire. The future was slowly being shaped and both Prouvaire and him were envisioning the same dreams, the same distant sounds of cannons on the horizons. Enjolras glanced at his friend and saw tears streaming down his face and he understanding, pressed Jean Prouvaire to him close.

They were interrupted by the whirlwind arrival of Bahorel and many excited chatters; the mist of the vision they were both sharing dissipated. The future however still remained as a shared melancholy between them.

[roseinapril]

Welcome to the Les Amis de l’ABC photobook.

[roseinapril]

Insane Thoughts About Les Mis Below

What I truly cannot get over is the absolute perfect blending of the universal and the specific. Like Hugo does this in a lot of his other works, notably Hunchback, but Les Mis is truly a masterpiece in that regard.

Because it is a profoundly universal story, whose theme resonate across time and culture! It's the story of souls seeking salvation, it's a question about what good and evil are, it's an exploration of morality and nurture vs. nature. You can retell it and readapt it easily because the core narrative around which everything hangs- a man is shown mercy upon his release from prison and tries to redeem himself for his past crimes but can never outrun them, and through his efforts causes a series of coincidences that deeply impact his life and the lives of those around him- that's a good story! If I fleshed out that one sentence summary with more plot points, you could still strip them down and reskin them while keeping the outline recognizable, you can shift the characters between context, because it's just a really strong narrative with compelling character conflicts! Further, it's rebuttal of the "great men of history" narrative is STILL one of the strongest- it so perfectly explores how characters are shaped by circumstance, rather than innate traits, and that circumstance likewise is not earned by goodness- but neither is it totally random- but is rather the sum total of many many decisions made by EVERYONE, and that even the smallest and most inconsequential lives can have huge impacts, and that you shouldn't judge others because you don't know their story.

But by that same token- it is SUCH a specific story!! There is a reason it was written at the time it was written and set in the decades of was set- the fact that Valjean went to prison during the reign of Louis XVI and came out AFTER the defeat of Napoleon- understanding just how much the world changed is critical to understanding his character! The unprecedented social mobility of the period is PLOT CRITICAL- multiple character make and lose fortunes multiple times in the span of two decades, the industrial revolution is both necessary for the plot and deeply symbolic (THE FUCKING JET MAKING PROCESS STILL MAKES ME INSANE), nevermind the climactic very specific political conflict at the end of the novel, nevermind the incredibly context specific jokes and references throughout the novel, nevermind the literal ESSAYS on Waterloo, convents, and sewers which are symbolic but also so so SO specific! Aah!! Screaming!!

Truly, you can adapt Les Mis endlessly, and I think it will be a story told for centuries- maybe even a millenia- because the characters and the core themes they are used to explore are so deeply resonant. But you can never completely "lift and shift" the story and characters to a new setting- you will ALWAYS lose nuance in the process- because they are so deeply entwined with the setting and it's history and with each other- and I think that's beautiful.

[roseinapril]

9 Thermidor. I have collabed with @lemoncholy_ (aka forced her) to make a video where we will be exploring three designs based on Robespierre’s complex legacy. Please go give it a watch and we would like to hear your thoughts on the format, if we made any mistakes, and of course, our portrayal of Robespierre.

[roseinapril]

“In the good weather months, every evening Maximilien would go for a walk with his hosts on the Champs-Elysées, near the Marbeuf gardens. Some little Savoyards who knew him, because they saw him every evening on the avenues, would run toward him, playing the vielle and singing songs from the mountains. He would give them a few pennies and kindly talk to them about their country, their shacks, their old mother. Among themselves the children called him the kind Monsieur. One of them came to him crying one day. Maximilien asked him why he was so sad; the kid, as an answer, cracked open his empty box: “I see, replied the kind Monsieur, you’ve lost your marmot; here, for buying a new one.” And he slipped a coin in his hand.” 

Source: Alphonse Esquiros, Histoire des Montagnards tome II (here, p469-470), translation by me. 

Robespierre couldn’t do much more for the little Savoyard than give him money, but the idea that he thought you could just BUY another marmot in Paris is sending me (but did he really? Or did he just didn’t know what to say or do?). 

I mean, maybe some Savoyards were selling their tamed marmots? But as far as I know, the wild rodents were caught in the Alps, tamed and taught tricks there, then brought to French towns. The Savoyards used them to earn money, but they were also pets for the kids who made the journey with them, and the marmots were used to their little masters? So, I don’t think the kid could just buy a new one; he’ll need to catch and tame and new one when he’ll return to the Alps. 

[roseinapril]

just did a clean out of inactive blogs i follow and turns out i barely follow anyone now lmao.

anyway if you are a les mis blogger who likes canon era and also ships other than enjoltaire (esp if you like enjolras/combeferre) and you want to be mutuals feel free 2 reblog

#Actually writing and Enj/Comb fanfic XDD #les mis #love les mis les amis and all they represent

[roseinapril]

I will die with you, and you will be born again with me. - Les Miserables

part 2; part 1 here 

[roseinapril]

He composed, in his own mind, with Combeferre’s philosophical and penetrating eloquence, Feuilly’s cosmopolitan enthusiasm, Courfeyrac’s verve, Bahorel’s smile, Jean Prouvaire’s melancholy, Joly’s science, Bossuet’s sarcasms, a sort of electric spark which took fire nearly everywhere at once.- Enjolras and his Lieutenants, 4.1.6

I’ve heard people joke about what a horrible speech that would be, but… that’s The Speech, that’s the Quel Horizon speech. They’re all in there. (I don’t know where he got the Goats of Darkness, but I am inclined to blame the Romantics.) I’ll probably post these separately later with more about the quotes and all (and for now please do click through for the bigger images)  but for now, Happy First Barricade Day! 

Hopefully pt 1; I’ll see tomorrow.

Anyway, The Speech under the cut! 

Seguir leyendo

[roseinapril]

prouvaire is actually a great poet because he is just surrounded by the most intensely poetic people you’ve ever met. gets home from a meeting and immediately starts writing in his diary like “bestie you will not BELIEVE what combeferre said to marius today it was insane. also enjolras stared so so deeply into my eyes for five minutes straight and i think i saw God”

[roseinapril]

An otome in the French Revolution? A game where I can seduce Saint-Just? Take my money! 💸💸💸💸

"Ambition: a minuet in power" is all I've ever dreamed for ❤️ You can buy it on Steam. Can't wait to start playing! 😍🎮

#ambitionaminuetinpower

#steam

#frenchrevolution

#saintjust

#otome

#Instagram

[roseinapril]

my 19th century knowledge is not very strong