Join Host Bree Carlile as she reads the forty-third chapter of Les Miserables.

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>> Speaker A: Take a look, in the book and let's see

what we can find.

Take it chapter by chapter. One

fight M at a time.

>> Brie Carlisle: So.

>> Speaker A: Many adventures and mountains

we can climb

to give word for word, line by

line, one bite at a time.

>> Brie Carlisle: Welcome to bite at a time books where we read you your

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>> Brie Carlisle: Values today well be

continuing Les Miserable by Victor

Hugo chapter four

Monsieur Madeleine in mourning

at the beginning of 1820, the

newspapers announced the death of Monsieur Mariel, bishop of

D, surnamed Monsignor Bienvenue,

who had died in the odor of sanctity at the age of

82. The bishop of D,

to supply here a detail which the papers omitted,

had been blind for many years before his death, and

content to be blind as his sister was beside him.

Let us remark by the way that to be blind and to be

loved is in fact one of the most strangely

exquisite forms of happiness upon this earth, where nothing

is complete. To have continually at one side

a woman, a daughter, a sister, a charming

being who is there because you need her and because she

cannot do without you. To know that we are

indispensable to a person who is necessary to

us, to be able to incessantly measure ones

affection by the amount of her presence which she bestows on

us, and to say to ourselves, since

she consecrates the whole of her time to me, it is because I

possess the whole of her heart. To behold her

thought in lieu of her face. To be able to

verify the fidelity of one being amid the eclipse of the

world. To regard the rustle of a gown as

the sound of wings. To hear her come and

go, retire, speak,

return, sing. And to think that one is the center

of these steps of this speech.

To manifest at each instant ones personal

attraction. To feel oneself all the more

powerful because of ones infirmity. To become

in ones obscurity. And through ones

obscurity. The star round which this angel

gravitates. Few felicities equal.

This, the supreme happiness of life.

Consists in the conviction that one is loved.

Loved for ones own sake, let us

say, rather loved in spite of oneself.

This conviction the blind man possesses.

To be served in distress is to be crassed.

Does he lack anything? No.

One does not lose the sight when one has love.

And what love? A love wholly constituted

a virtue. There is no blindness where there is

certainty. Soul, seeks soul

gropingly. And finds it in this soul,

found and tested, is a woman. A

hand sustains you. it is hers. A mouth

lightly touches your brow. It is her

mouth. You hear a breath very near you. It is

hers to have everything of her. From her

worship to her pity. Never to be left. To have

that sweet weakness aiding you, to lean upon that immovable

reed. To touch providence with ones hands. And

to be able to take it in ones arms. God made

tangible. What bliss.

The heart, that obscure celestial flower.

Undergoes a mysterious blossoming. One would not

exchange that shadow for all brightness. The

angel soul is there, uninterruptingly there. If she

departs, it is but to return again. She

vanishes like a dream and reappears like reality.

One feels the warmth approaching. And

behold, she is there. One overflows

with serenity, with gaiety, with ecstasy.

One is a radiance amid the night. And there are a thousand

little cares nothings which are enormous.

In that void. The most ineffable accents

of the feminine voice employed to lull you. And supplying

the vanished universe to you. One is

caressed with the soul. One sees nothing. But

one feels that one is adored. It is

a paradise of shadows. It was from

this paradise that Monsignor welcome had passed to the

other. The announcement of his death was

reprinted by the local journal of M. Sur M

m. On the following day, Monsieur Madeleine appeared,

clad wholly in black and with crepe on his hat.

This morning was noticed in the town and

commented on it seemed to throw a light on

Monsieur Madeleines origin. It was concluded

that some relationship existed between him and the

venerable bishop. He has gone into mourning for the

bishop of D, said the drawing rooms.

This raised Monsieur Madeleines credit greatly

and procured for him instantly and at one blow

a certain consideration. In the noble world of M, Sir

M. The microscopic faubourg

Saint Germain of the place meditated, raising the quarantine against

Monsieur Madeleine, the probable relative of a

bishop, M. Madeleine perceived the advancement which he had

obtained by the more numerous courtesies of the old

women and the more plentiful smiles of the young

ones. One evening, a ruler in

that petty great world, who was curious by right of

seniority, ventured to ask him, Monsieur le

Maire is doubtless a cousin of the late bishop of D.

He said, no, madame, but,

resumed the dowager. You are wearing mourning for

him, he replied. It is

because I was a servant in his family in my youth.

Another thing which was remarked was that every time that he

encountered in the town a young Saviard who was

roaming about the country and seeking chimneys to sweep,

the mayor had him summoned, inquired his name,

and gave him money. The little Saviards told

each other about it. A great many of them passed that

way.

Thank you for joining bite at a time books today while

we read a bite of one of your favorite classics.

Again, my name is Bree Carlisle, and

I hope you come back tomorrow for the next bite of

Le Miserable.

>> Brie Carlisle: Dont forget to sign up for our

newsletter@byteadatimebooks.com, and check

out the shop. You can check out the show notes or

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the rest of the links for our show. wed love to hear from you on

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>> Speaker A: Take a look and let's

see what we can find.

Take it chapter by chapter. One.