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I absolutely love how Marguerite, in Chauvelin’s eyes, is a symbol of wisdom and freedom in the musical.

He wants her. He objectifies her not as a woman, but like a national treasure. He is possessive of what was once her ideals. He wants her to be like him. He wants her to become a martyr. He wants to eternalize her into a symbol of their new society.

I believe this is also what the 1982 film tried to portray (the musical is directly inspired by this film adaptation).

They got rid of Marguerite’s agency over her own sins and completely antagonized Chauvelin in order to put an emphasis on this form of objectification.

As the story nears its end, Chauvelin loses all interest in Marguerite, upholding his own ideals above his yearning for her. He was to make an example out of her. Instead of a symbol of the revolution, he would turn her into a national traitor, a symbol of evil, everything that goes against his idea of “democracy”.

today i am thinking about the eight bullets that kill enjolras, and how i always see people saying they represent his eight friends to die at the barricade, but when i first read his death what came to my mind was the eight men to escape the barricade alive: valjean, marius, javert, and the five men who are given the national guard uniforms. i think of those eight bullets being meant for those eight men, and enjolras taking them all. he did not change the world in the way he meant, but he changed the world for eight men, and that has to be enough.

Les Mis Shipping Showdown: Final

REMINDER THAT THERE IS NO POLL STEALING IN THIS ROUND.

e/r art by @non-tmercy

eposette art by @piierogis

n1 class traitor love him

LES MIS LETTERS IN ADAPTATION - Entrance on the Scene of a Doll, LM 2.3.4 (Les Miserables 1925)

The last of these stalls, established precisely opposite the Thénardiers’ door, was a toy-shop all glittering with tinsel, glass, and magnificent objects of tin. In the first row, and far forwards, the merchant had placed on a background of white napkins, an immense doll, nearly two feet high, who was dressed in a robe of pink crepe, with gold wheat-ears on her head, which had real hair and enamel eyes. All that day, this marvel had been displayed to the wonderment of all passers-by under ten years of age, without a mother being found in Montfermeil sufficiently rich or sufficiently extravagant to give it to her child. Éponine and Azelma had passed hours in contemplating it, and Cosette herself had ventured to cast a glance at it, on the sly, it is true.

At the moment when Cosette emerged, bucket in hand, melancholy and overcome as she was, she could not refrain from lifting her eyes to that wonderful doll, towards the lady, as she called it. The poor child paused in amazement. She had not yet beheld that doll close to. The whole shop seemed a palace to her: the doll was not a doll; it was a vision. It was joy, splendor, riches, happiness, which appeared in a sort of chimerical halo to that unhappy little being so profoundly engulfed in gloomy and chilly misery. With the sad and innocent sagacity of childhood, Cosette measured the abyss which separated her from that doll. She said to herself that one must be a queen, or at least a princess, to have a “thing” like that. She gazed at that beautiful pink dress, that beautiful smooth hair, and she thought, “How happy that doll must be!” She could not take her eyes from that fantastic stall. The more she looked, the more dazzled she grew. She thought she was gazing at paradise. There were other dolls behind the large one, which seemed to her to be fairies and genii. The merchant, who was pacing back and forth in front of his shop, produced on her somewhat the effect of being the Eternal Father.

In this adoration she forgot everything, even the errand with which she was charged.

I think the great thing about seeing Enjolras as the personification of Revolution is that as logical and cruel as he can be, he is still caring, he doesn't enjoy violence, he's capable of so much empathy and forgiveness...

If revolution were to be a person, I think it's so beautiful to think of them as compassionate.

why you so nervous?

“Dedma” has been an interesting word for me. I never personally used it but it’s been on my mind for the longest time.

ignoring • the act of ignoring • feigning unawareness • short for "dead malice"

Like it doesn’t just mean ignoring!! It is used with the assumption that someone did you wrong. Like it specifically has something to do with someone who you are trying to be petty with. It’s inherently petty.

It’s interesting to me that we had to create words like these to describe this specific action. We couldn’t just say, “pabayaan mo na.” NO.

We created and use this word because we feel the need to acknowledge or recognize the idea that we are deliberately ignoring someone to keep our own peace, when in fact, we are being petty as hell.

Don’t you think that’s fucking interesting? We are so obsessed with the image of our lives that we try to describe our own experiences for other people in fear of them mischaracterizing us. We have to shape our slangs and language around the idea of being perceived.

We can’t just say we’re ignoring someone. No, we have to say that we’re ignoring them in spite of their shitty attitude. We have to make sure that we are in the right. This slang was so intentionally created for the sake of the “bigger person”.

That shit is interesting to me. To me, personally, I can never use this word because I can never be so petty, though I wish I could. “Dedma.” Wow. Using this word really does give you the image of the bigger person.

jean valjean as saint peter

(reference under the cut)

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