There are certain
sensations that I will never get used to, no matter how often I experience them.
Walking in the echoing footsteps of someone far greater than I will always
remain a mystery to me. This past weekend, I visited the City of Lights. With
its many brasseries and bridges reaching over the famous Seine, Paris is a city
of romance and intrigue. It is a loadstone for writers, sucking them in and
churning them over and over in the air of fresh baguettes and cigarette smoke, and
tempting them to weave haunting tales. Victor Hugo was one of the great writers
who looked through the smoggy air of Paris’ lower class and found literary
gold.
Last month when I walked
through the abandoned rooms of Anne Frank’s secret annex, I felt her presence
as the girl who experienced the cruelty of European history. Last weekend, I
was fortunate enough to walk through the sacred walls of the Notre Dame
Cathedral and the private apartments of Victor Hugo.
As my foot squeaked on the
steps leading to his rooms, I could sense the phantom memory of the literary
genius who had climbed the noisy steps so many times before, heading to his
study to write another chapter about Jon Valjean and the Revolution. And as I
stared up into the domes of the great Notre Dame and listened to its resounding
bells, I imagined that I could see the romantic shadow of a certain hunchback still
haunting the towers.
Of course, Victor Hugo is
usually recognized for his works Les
Misérables and Notre Dame de Paris.
However, his literary career began long before these famous works were
published. By the age of 13, he had already received considerate praise for his
literary pursuits, including recognition from the Academie Francaise for his
early poetry. Hugo was not only a novelist and poet, but also a successful
playwright in the Paris theatre scene. In his youth, he was the leader of the
French Romantic Movement, and throughout his lifetime his work was the subject
of hot debate. His play Hernani was
not only a great success, but also the center of great controversy, as it
portrayed the conflict between classic French theatre and new Romantic
approaches. This conflict is now considered a critical juncture in the history
of French theatre.
It is perhaps fitting that
Hugo received such success for his work in the theatre, as his novel Les Misérables, considered possibly the
greatest work of his lifetime, has been adapted into a world renowned musical. I
was fortunate enough to see this musical in the Queen’s Theatre Stage in London
earlier this month. The show has run for 25 years—another testament to the
lasting effects of Hugo’s timeless story. Of course, Hugo’s work has been
adapted into other mediums, as well. For example, the famous 1996 Disney film The Hunchback of Notre Dame adopted an
English version of Victor Hugo’s title Notre
Dame de Paris, although it altered much of the plot.
After the failure of his
play Les Burgraves in 1843, Hugo
focused his energies and talents on political matters, perhaps unknowingly inciting
a conflict that would soon change his life. Due to his negative public statements
on Louis Bonaparte, Victor was pressured to flee to Brussels. In 1855, Queen
Victoria’s visit to Paris inspired a satirical article published by French exiles
living in a London paper. Hugo was connected to these political critics, and
because he chose to maintain solidarity with them, he was exiled to Guernsey
that same year.
Even after he was allowed
to return to France, Hugo stubbornly remained in his place of exile, and it was
in Guernsey that he wrote Les Misérables.
In 1870 Louis Bonaparte fell from power, and Hugo finally returned to France,
this time as a political hero.
Hugo’s interest in
political issues and the lower class is evident in his popular works. It was
perhaps due to this interest that he insisted on being buried in a pauper’s
coffin upon his death in 1885. Regardless, the gesture proves that Victor Hugo
was stubbornly romantic to the very end.
After visiting Paris this
month, I’ve decided that what it lacks in clean water it makes up for in
literary inspiration. One need only glance at the arches of the great Notre
Dame to understand Victor Hugo’s interest in the cathedral. I find it
fascinating that I can look at a building I know he looked at, walk over
bridges he crossed, and read the words he penned so long ago.
Sources:
By Kelly Young
