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>> Speaker A: Take a look, in the book and let's see
Speaker:what we can find.
Speaker:Take it chapter by chapter. One
Speaker:fight m at a time
Speaker:so many adventures and
Speaker:mountains we can climb
Speaker:to give word for word, line by
Speaker:line, one bite at a time.
Speaker:>> Brie Carlisle: Welcome.
Speaker:>> Brie Carlisle: To bite at a time books where we read you your favorite
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Speaker:today well be continuing.
Speaker:>> Brie Carlisle: les miserable by Victor Hugo
Speaker:chapter 13 Little
Speaker:Gervaise Jean
Speaker:Valjean left the town as though he were fleeing from
Speaker:it. He set out at a very hasty pace
Speaker:through the fields, taking whatever roads
Speaker:and paths presented themselves to him
Speaker:without perceiving that he was incessantly retracing
Speaker:his steps. He wandered thus the whole
Speaker:morning without having eaten anything and without
Speaker:feeling hungry. He was the prey of a
Speaker:throng of novel sensations. He was
Speaker:conscious of a sort of rage. He did
Speaker:not know against whom it was directed.
Speaker:He could not have told whether he was touched or
Speaker:humiliated. There came over him at
Speaker:moments a strange emotion which he resisted
Speaker:and to which he opposed the hardness acquired during the last
Speaker:20 years of his life. This state
Speaker:of mind fatigued him. He perceived
Speaker:with dismay that the sort of frightful
Speaker:calm which the injustice of its misfortune had conferred
Speaker:upon him was giving way within
Speaker:him. He asked himself, what would replace
Speaker:this? At times he would have actually
Speaker:preferred to be in prison with the gendarmes. And
Speaker:that, thing should not have happened in this way. It
Speaker:would have agitated him less. Although
Speaker:the season was tolerably far advanced,
Speaker:there were still a few late flowers in the hedgerows here and
Speaker:there, whose odor, as he passed through them in
Speaker:his march, recalled to him memories of his childhood.
Speaker:His memories were almost intolerable to him.
Speaker:It was so long since they had recurred to him.
Speaker:Unutterable thoughts assembled within him in this manner all day
Speaker:long. As the sun declined to its
Speaker:setting, casting long shadows athwart the
Speaker:soil from every pebble, Jean Valjean sat
Speaker:down behind a bush upon a large, ruddy plain which
Speaker:was absolutely deserted. There
Speaker:was nothing on the horizon except the alps,
Speaker:not even the spire of a distant village. Jean
Speaker:Valjean might have been three leagues distant from D
Speaker:A, path which intersected the plain past a few paces from
Speaker:the bush. In the middle of this meditation,
Speaker:which would have contributed not a little to render his
Speaker:rags terrifying to anyone who might have encountered
Speaker:him, a joyous sound became
Speaker:audible. He turned his head
Speaker:and saw a little savoyard, about ten years of age, coming up
Speaker:the path and singing his hurdy gurdy on
Speaker:his hip and his marmot box on his back,
Speaker:one of those gay and gentle children who go from land
Speaker:to land, affording a view of their knees through the holes in their
Speaker:trousers. Without stopping his
Speaker:song, the lad halted in his march from time to time
Speaker:and played at knucklebones with some coins, which he had in
Speaker:his hand. His whole fortune
Speaker:probably. Among this money there was
Speaker:140 sou piece. The child
Speaker:halted beside the bush without perceiving Jean
Speaker:Valjean, and tossed up his handful of sous,
Speaker:which up to that time he had caught with a good deal of adroitness
Speaker:on the back of his hand. This time the
Speaker:40 sous piece escaped him and went rolling towards the
Speaker:brushwood until it reached Jean Valjean.
Speaker:Jean Valjean set his foot upon it. In
Speaker:the meantime, the child had looked after his coin and had caught
Speaker:sight of him. He showed no astonishment,
Speaker:but walked straight up to the man. The spot
Speaker:was absolutely solitary, as far as the
Speaker:eye could see. There was not a person on the plane or on the
Speaker:path. The only sound was the tiny,
Speaker:feeble cries of a flock of birds of passage
Speaker:which was traversing the heavens at an immense height.
Speaker:The child was standing with his back to the sun,
Speaker:which cast threads of gold in his hair and
Speaker:empurpled with its blood red gleam the savage face
Speaker:of Jean Valjean. Sir,
Speaker:said the little savoyard, with that childish confidence
Speaker:which is composed of ignorance and innocence.
Speaker:My money. What is your name?
Speaker:Said, Jean Valjean. Little gervaise,
Speaker:sir. Go away, said Jean
Speaker:Valjean. Sir, presumed the
Speaker:child. Give me back my money.
Speaker:Jean Valjean dropped his head and made no reply.
Speaker:The child began again. My money,
Speaker:sir. Jean Valjeans eyes remained fixed
Speaker:on the earth.
Speaker:>> Brie Carlisle: My piece of money.
Speaker:>> Brie Carlisle: cried the child.
Speaker:>> Brie Carlisle: My white piece. My silver.
Speaker:>> Brie Carlisle: It seemed as though Jean Valjean did not hear him.
Speaker:The child grasped him by the collar of his blouse and shook
Speaker:him. At the same time he made an effort to
Speaker:displace the big iron shod shoe which rested on his
Speaker:treasure.
Speaker:>> Brie Carlisle: I want my piece of money. My
Speaker:piece of 40 sous.
Speaker:>> Brie Carlisle: The child wept. Jean Valjean raised his
Speaker:head. He still remained seated.
Speaker:His eyes were troubled. He gazed at
Speaker:the child in a sort of amazement. Then
Speaker:he stretched out his hand towards his cudgel and cried in a
Speaker:terrible voice. Whos there?
Speaker:Ay, sir, replied the child.
Speaker:>> Brie Carlisle: Little Gervaise, give me back my
Speaker:40 sous, if you please. Take your foot
Speaker:away, sir, if you please.
Speaker:>> Brie Carlisle: Then, irritated though he was so small and
Speaker:becoming almost menacing, come now, will.
Speaker:>> Brie Carlisle: You take your foot away? Take your foot away, or well,
Speaker:see,
Speaker:>> Brie Carlisle: Ah, its still you, said Jean Valjean.
Speaker:And rising abruptly to his feet, his foot still resting
Speaker:on the silver piece, he added, will you take
Speaker:yourself off? The frightened child looked at
Speaker:him, then began to tremble from head to foot.
Speaker:And after a few moments of stupor, he set out
Speaker:running at the top of his speed without daring to turn his neck
Speaker:or to utter a cry. Nevertheless,
Speaker:lack of breath, forced him to halt after a certain distance.
Speaker:And Jean Valjean heard him sobbing in the midst of his own
Speaker:reverie. At the end of a few moments, the
Speaker:child disappeared. The sun had
Speaker:set. The shadows were descending around Jean
Speaker:Valjean. He had eaten nothing all day.
Speaker:It is probable that he was feverish.
Speaker:He had remained standing and had not changed his attitude
Speaker:after the childs flight. A breath heaved his
Speaker:chest at, long and irregular intervals.
Speaker:His gaze, fixed ten or twelve paces in front of
Speaker:him, seemed to be scrutinizing with profound attention the
Speaker:shape of an ancient fragment of blue earthenware which
Speaker:had fallen in the grass. All at
Speaker:once he shivered. He had just
Speaker:begun to feel the chill of evening. He settled
Speaker:his cap more firmly on his brow, sought
Speaker:mechanically to cross and button his blouse,
Speaker:advanced a step and stopped to pick up his cudgel.
Speaker:At that moment he caught sight of the 40 soup
Speaker:use which his foot had half ground into the
Speaker:earth and which was shining among the pebbles.
Speaker:It was as though he had received a galvanic
Speaker:shock. What is this? He
Speaker:muttered between his teeth. He recoiled three
Speaker:paces, then halted without being able to detach his
Speaker:gaze from the spot which his foot had trodden but an instant
Speaker:before, as though the thing which lay glittering there in the
Speaker:gloom had been an open eye riveted upon him.
Speaker:At the expiration of a few moments, he darted convulsively
Speaker:towards the silver coin, seized it, and straightened
Speaker:himself up again and began to gaze afar off over the
Speaker:plain, at the same time casting his eyes
Speaker:towards all points of the horizon. As he stood there
Speaker:erect and shivering like a terrified
Speaker:wild animal which is seeking refuge,
Speaker:he saw nothing. Night was
Speaker:falling. The plain was cold and
Speaker:vague. Great banks of violet haze were
Speaker:rising.
Speaker:In the gleam of the twilight. He said, ah, and
Speaker:set out rapidly in the direction in which the child had
Speaker:disappeared. After about 30 paces,
Speaker:he paused, looked about him and saw
Speaker:nothing. Then he shouted with all his
Speaker:might, little gervaise. Little
Speaker:Gervaise. He paused
Speaker:and waited. There was no
Speaker:reply. The landscape was gloomy and
Speaker:deserted. He was encompassed by space.
Speaker:There was nothing around him but an obscurity in which his
Speaker:gaze was lost and a silence which engulfed his
Speaker:voice. An icy north wind was
Speaker:blowing and imparted to things around him a sort of lugubrious
Speaker:life. The bushes shook their thin little
Speaker:arms with incredible fury. One would have
Speaker:said that they were threatening. In pursuing someone,
Speaker:he set out on his march again. Then
Speaker:he began to run, and from time to time
Speaker:he halted and shouted into that solitude with
Speaker:a voice which was the most formidable and the most disconsolate
Speaker:that it was possible to hear. Little Gervaise.
Speaker:Little gervaise. Assuredly,
Speaker:if the child had heard him, he would have been alarmed and would have taken good
Speaker:care not to show himself. But the child was
Speaker:no doubt already far away. He encountered
Speaker:a priest on horseback. He stepped up to him and
Speaker:said, monsieur le cure, have you seen a child
Speaker:pass? No, said the priest.
Speaker:One named Little Gervaise. I have seen no
Speaker:one. He drew two five franc pieces from his
Speaker:money bag and handed them to the priest. Monsieur
Speaker:le cure, this is for your poor people. Monsieur
Speaker:le cure. He was a little lad, about ten years old, with a
Speaker:marmot, I think, and a hurdy gurdy, one of those
Speaker:savoyards, you know. Ive not seen
Speaker:him. Little Gervaise. There are no
Speaker:villages here. Can you tell me if
Speaker:he is like what you say, my friend? Hes a little
Speaker:stranger. Such persons pass through these
Speaker:parts. We know nothing of them.
Speaker:Jean Valjean seized two more coins of five francs each
Speaker:with violence, and gave them to the priest. For your
Speaker:poor, he said. Then he added
Speaker:wildly, Monsieur le Abbe, have me
Speaker:arrested. I am a thief. The priest
Speaker:put spurs to his horse and fled in haste. Much
Speaker:alarmed, Jean Valjean set out on a
Speaker:run in the direction which he had first taken.
Speaker:In this way, he traversed a tolerably long
Speaker:distance, gazing, calling,
Speaker:shouting. But he met no one.
Speaker:Two or three times he ran across the plain towards something
Speaker:which conveyed to him the effect of a human being reclining or
Speaker:crouching down. It turned out to be nothing
Speaker:but brushwood or rocks, nearly on a level with the
Speaker:earth. At length, at a
Speaker:spot where three paths intersected each other, he
Speaker:stopped. The moon had risen.
Speaker:He sent his gaze into the distance and shouted for the last
Speaker:time. Little gervaise. Little
Speaker:gervaise. Little gervaise.
Speaker:His shout died away in the mist. Without even
Speaker:awakening an echo, he murmured, yet once
Speaker:more, little gervaise.
Speaker:But in a feeble and almost inarticulate
Speaker:voice, it was his last effort.
Speaker:His legs gave way abruptly under him, as though an invisible
Speaker:power had suddenly overwhelmed him with the weight of his evil
Speaker:conscience. He fell exhausted
Speaker:on a large stone, his fists clenched
Speaker:in his hair and his face on his knees, and he cried,
Speaker:I am a wretch. Then his heart
Speaker:burst and he began to cry.
Speaker:it was the first time that he had wept in 19
Speaker:years. When Jean Valjean left the
Speaker:bishops house, he was, as we have
Speaker:seen, quite thrown out of everything that had been his
Speaker:thought. Hitherto. He could not yield to the
Speaker:evidence of what was going on within him. He
Speaker:hardened himself against the angelic action and the gentle words
Speaker:of the old man. You have promised me to
Speaker:become an honest man. I buy your
Speaker:soul. I take it away from the spirit of
Speaker:perversity. I give it to the good
Speaker:God. This recurred to his mind
Speaker:unceasingly to this celestial
Speaker:kindness. He opposed pride, which is the fortress
Speaker:of evil within us. He was
Speaker:indistinctly conscious that the pardon of this
Speaker:priest was the greatest assault and the most
Speaker:formidable attack which had moved him yet that his
Speaker:obduracy was finally settled. If he resisted this
Speaker:clemency, that, if he yielded,
Speaker:he should be obliged to renounce that hatred with which the actions
Speaker:of other men had filled his soul through so many years
Speaker:and which pleased him. That this time
Speaker:it was necessary to conquer or to be conquered.
Speaker:And that a struggle, a, colossal and
Speaker:final struggle had been begun between his
Speaker:viciousness and the goodness of that man
Speaker:in the presence of these lights he
Speaker:proceeded like a man who is intoxicated
Speaker:as he walked thus with haggard eyes, did he have a
Speaker:distinct perception of what might result to him from his adventure at
Speaker:dinner? That he understand all
Speaker:those mysterious murmurs which warn of importune
Speaker:the spirit at certain moments of life? That
Speaker:a voice whisper in his ear that he had just passed the
Speaker:solemn hour of his destiny. That there no longer
Speaker:remained a middle course for him. That if he were
Speaker:not henceforth the best of men, he would be
Speaker:the worst. That it behooved him now, so to
Speaker:speak, to mount higher than the bishop or fall
Speaker:lower than the conviction that if he wished to
Speaker:become good, he must become an angel. That
Speaker:if he wished to remain evil, he must become a monster.
Speaker:Here again, some questions must be put, which
Speaker:weve already put to ourselves elsewhere. Did
Speaker:he catch some shadow of all this in his thought,
Speaker:in a confused way? Misfortune,
Speaker:certainly, as we have said, does form the education
Speaker:of the intelligence. Nevertheless, it is
Speaker:doubtful whether Jean Valjean was in a condition to
Speaker:disentangle all that we have here indicated.
Speaker:If these ideas occurred to him, he but caught
Speaker:glimpses of rather than saw them,
Speaker:and they only succeeded in throwing him into
Speaker:an unutterable and almost painful state of
Speaker:emotion. On emerging from that black
Speaker:and deformed thing which is called the galleys,
Speaker:the bishop had hurt his soul. Thus,
Speaker:too vivid a light would have hurt his eyes. On emerging from the
Speaker:dark, the future life, the
Speaker:possible life which offered itself to him henceforth,
Speaker:all pure and radiant, filled him with tremors
Speaker:and anxiety. He no longer
Speaker:knew where he really was. Like an
Speaker:owl who should suddenly see the sun rise. The convict had
Speaker:been dazzled and blinded, as it were, by virtue.
Speaker:That which was certain, that which he did
Speaker:not doubt, was that he was no longer the same
Speaker:man, that everything about him was
Speaker:changed, that it was no longer in his power
Speaker:to make it as though the bishop had not spoken to him and had not touched
Speaker:him in this state of mind, he had
Speaker:encountered little gervaise and had robbed him of
Speaker:40 sous. Why,
Speaker:he certainly could not have explained it. Was this
Speaker:the last effect in the supreme effort, as it were, of the
Speaker:evil thoughts which he had brought away from the galleys, a
Speaker:remnant of impulse, a result of what is
Speaker:called in statistics, acquired force.
Speaker:It was that. And it was also,
Speaker:perhaps even less than that.
Speaker:Let us say it simply. it was not he who
Speaker:stole. It was not the man.
Speaker:It was the beast who by habit
Speaker:and instinct, had simply placed his foot upon that money,
Speaker:while the intelligence was struggling amid so many novel
Speaker:and hitherto unheard of thoughts besetting it.
Speaker:When intelligence reawakened and beheld that action
Speaker:of the brute, Jean Valjean
Speaker:recoiled with anguish. And uttered a cry of
Speaker:terror. It was
Speaker:because strange phenomenon.
Speaker:And one which was possible only in the situation in which he
Speaker:found himself. In stealing the money from that
Speaker:child, he had done a thing of which he was no longer
Speaker:capable. However that may be,
Speaker:this last evil action had a decisive effect on
Speaker:him. It abruptly traversed that chaos which he
Speaker:bore in his mind. And dispersed it, placed on
Speaker:one side the thick obscurity and on the other
Speaker:the light. And acted on his soul in the
Speaker:state in which it then was. As certain chemical
Speaker:reagents act upon a troubled m mixture.
Speaker:By precipitating one element and clarifying the
Speaker:other. First of all, even
Speaker:before examining himself and reflecting
Speaker:all bewildered, like one who seeks to save
Speaker:himself. He tried to find the
Speaker:child in order to return his money to him.
Speaker:Then, when he recognized the fact that this was
Speaker:impossible, he halted in despair
Speaker:at the moment when he exclaimed, im a
Speaker:wretch. He had just perceived what he
Speaker:was. And he was already separated from
Speaker:himself to such a degree. That he seemed to
Speaker:himself to be no longer anything more than a phantom.
Speaker:And as if he had there before him
Speaker:in flesh and blood. The hideous galley
Speaker:convict Jean Valjean, cudgel in hand,
Speaker:his blasts on his hips, his knapsack
Speaker:filled with stolen objects. On his back, with his
Speaker:resolute and gloomy visage, with his thoughts filled
Speaker:with abominable projects.
Speaker:Excessive unhappiness had, as, we
Speaker:have remarked, made him in some sort a visionary.
Speaker:This, then, was in the nature of a vision.
Speaker:He actually saw that Jean Valjean,
Speaker:that sinister face before him.
Speaker:He had almost reached the point of asking himself who that man
Speaker:was. And he was horrified by
Speaker:him. His brain was going through one of those
Speaker:violent and yet perfectly calm moments. In which
Speaker:reverie is so profound that it absorbs
Speaker:reality. One no longer
Speaker:beholds the object which one has before one.
Speaker:And one sees as though apart from oneself
Speaker:the figures which one has in ones own mind.
Speaker:Thus he contemplated himself, so to
Speaker:speak, face to face. And at the same
Speaker:time, athwart this hallucination. He
Speaker:perceived in a mysterious depth a sort of light which he
Speaker:at first took for a torch.
Speaker:Unscrutinizing this light which appeared to his conscience with
Speaker:more attention. He recognized the fact that it
Speaker:possessed a human form. And that this torch was the
Speaker:bishop. His conscience weighed
Speaker:in turn these two men thus placed before
Speaker:it the bishop and Jean
Speaker:Valjean. Nothing less than the first was
Speaker:required to soften the second by one
Speaker:of those singular effects which are peculiar to this sort of
Speaker:ecstasies in proportion. As his reverie
Speaker:continued, as the bishop grew great
Speaker:and resplendent in his eyes, so
Speaker:did Jean Valjean grow less and
Speaker:vanish. After a certain
Speaker:time, he was no longer anything more than a shade.
Speaker:All at once, he disappeared.
Speaker:The bishop alone remained. He filled the
Speaker:whole soul of this wretched man with a magnificent
Speaker:radiance. Jean Valjean wept.
Speaker:For a long time. He wept burning
Speaker:tears. He sobbed with more weakness
Speaker:than a woman, with more fright than a
Speaker:child. As he wept, daylight
Speaker:penetrated more and more clearly into his soul,
Speaker:an extraordinary light, a light at
Speaker:once ravishing and terrible.
Speaker:His past life, his first
Speaker:fault, his long expiation, his
Speaker:external brutishness, his internal
Speaker:hardness, his dismissal to liberty,
Speaker:rejoicing in manifold plans of vengeance. What had
Speaker:happened to him at the bishops? The last thing
Speaker:that he had done, that theft of 40
Speaker:sous from a child, a crime all the more
Speaker:cowardly and all the more monstrous since it had come after
Speaker:the bishops. Pardon. All this
Speaker:recurred to his mind and appeared clearly to him,
Speaker:but with a clearness which he had never hitherto
Speaker:witnessed. He examined his
Speaker:life, and it seemed horrible to
Speaker:him, his soul, and it
Speaker:seemed frightful to him. In the meantime,
Speaker:a gentle light rusted over this life and the
Speaker:soul. It seemed to him that he beheld
Speaker:Satan by the light of paradise.
Speaker:How many hours did he weep thus?
Speaker:What did he do after he wept? Whither did he
Speaker:go? No one knew. The only thing which seems
Speaker:to be authenticated is that that same night, the
Speaker:carrier who served Grenoble at that epoch, who
Speaker:arrived at d about 03:00 in the
Speaker:morning, saw as he traversed the
Speaker:street in which the bishops residence was situated,
Speaker:a man in the attitude of prayer, kneeling on the
Speaker:pavement in the shadow in front of the door of
Speaker:Monseigneur, welcome. Thank you for
Speaker:joining bite at a time books today. while we read a bite of one of
Speaker:your favorite classics. Again, my name
Speaker:is Brie Carlisle, and I hope you come back
Speaker:tomorrow, for the next bite of le
Speaker:Miserable.
Speaker:>> Brie Carlisle: Don't forget to sign up for our
Speaker:newsletter@biteoutimebooks.com, dot. And
Speaker:check out the shop. You can check out the show notes or
Speaker:our website, byteadittimebooks.com, for
Speaker:the rest of the links for our show. wed love to hear from you on
Speaker:social media as well.
Speaker:>> Speaker A: mountains we can climb,
Speaker:take your words, go word, line by
Speaker:line, one bite at a time.