Little One

My mom was only seven when her mother died in Germany, crushed by a bomb dropped by Allied planes in World War II–a bomb meant to kill my grandfather.  He died in 1967, from an infection contracted after a routine operation, and so at the age of thirty, my mother became an orphan.  I never really understood what it means to lose both your parents until now.  It means you can never really go home again.  

The Chemo Purse

When my mom was living in Los Angeles, doing her best to pretend the chemo was killing the cancer and not her, we watched the movie Les Miserables together, she pretending (again) to enjoy it for my sake even though pain blocked out most pleasure.  For months,  I could not get the song I Dreamed A Dream out of my head, the words sloshing around like water in a cup, often spilling over in the form of tears.  I dreamed a dream in times gone by, when hope was high and life worth living.  I could so relate.  No amount of hope was going to change the death sentence that marched closer by the minute.

Always Interested

Now, I dream of my mother.  In one, I spot her in a small grocery store, picking up the fruit and vegetables in wonder to study their shapes and colors.  She runs past me to the flower stand, where she gently looks and touches and smelles as if she’s never seen flowers before.  I do not care that she doesn’t know me;  the point is that her spirit, whole and undamaged, is in a place of new and beautiful things.

What A Dish!

In another, Gabriele is standing downstairs in my house, looking like she had when she was twenty-two.  I am walking up the stairs to go to bed when I turn and see her, surprise, electrical and joyous, coursing through me.

“Mom!”  I say, accepting without question that she is back from the dead.  ”Come upstairs to sleep with me.”  In my heart, I feel afraid that if I don’t keep her close, she will leave again.

True Love Always

“Oh honey,” she laughs, a sound of pure delight.  ”You know I am going to sleep with Rich tonight.”  But then my mom walks up the stairs, takes my hand, and tucks me into bed the way she would a child.  Is this her way of telling me that I must move on?  That her place now, as it was in life, is with Rich, as mine is with Ethan?  I like to believe that it’s her way of telling me it’s OK to let the  weight of grief lift a little–that feeling guilty about feeling happy is not the way back from such great sorrow.

The Les Mis song still makes me cry.  “But the tigers come at night… with their voices soft as thunder.  Yes, we tried, but we couldn’t save her.  As they tear your hope apart… and they turn your dream to shame.  Yes, the dream she would beat a Stage IV cancer diagnosis was dead.  But hope is stronger than any paper tiger, and in the end we simply changed what we were hoping for.  In those final, agonizing weeks, instead of praying she would live, we prayed that she would find peace and joy in death.

Less than a week before she died, my mother’s beautiful mind already crossed over to the other side, I dreamed of her as a little girl.  Dancing in a line of other girls–her sisters, I think–people watch from the shadows–people I intuitively understand are souls from her past.   And then, slowly, she leaves the line of dancers and moves forward,  toward her mom and dad waiting at the end of the room. They are young and smiling, their hands outstretched to welcome my mother home.

Like Mother, Like Daughter, c. 1996

Not being heard is no reason for silence.

Victor Hugo, Les Misérables

He had taken prizes in his boyhood at the College of Moulins, where he was born, and he had been crowned by the hand of the Duc de Nivernais, whom he called the Duc de Nevers. Neither the Convention, nor the death of Louis XVI., nor the Napoleon, nor the return of the Bourbons, nor anything else had been able to efface the memory of this crowning. The Duc de Nevers was, in his eyes, the great figure of the century. “What a charming grand seigneur,” he said, “and what a fine air he had with his blue ribbon!”

In the eyes of M. Gillenormand, Catherine the Second had made reparation for the crime of the partition of Poland by purchasing, for three thousand roubles, the secret of the elixir of gold, from Bestucheff. He grew animated on this subject: “The elixir of gold,” he exclaimed, “the yellow dye of Bestucheff, General Lamotte’s drops, in the eighteenth century,—this was the great remedy for the catastrophes of love, the panacea against Venus, at one louis the half-ounce phial. Louis XV. sent two hundred phials of it to the Pope.” He would have been greatly irritated and thrown off his balance, had any one told him that the elixir of gold is nothing but the perchloride of iron. M. Gillenormand adored the Bourbons, and had a horror of 1789; he was forever narrating in what manner he had saved himself during the Terror, and how he had been obliged to display a vast deal of gayety and cleverness in order to escape having his head cut off. If any young man ventured to pronounce an eulogium on the Republic in his presence, he turned purple and grew so angry that he was on the point of swooning. He sometimes alluded to his ninety years, and said, “I hope that I shall not see ninety-three twice.” On these occasions, he hinted to people that he meant to live to be a hundred.

Having previously seen the Broadway and West End productions, I’m very curious to see the ‘new’ 25th anniversary production and how it translates to a touring production with its inherent limitations.

Photo credit: Broadway Across Canada

Les Misérables inspires a lot of fervour in its fans. There are dark corners of the interwebs where one can get lost in debate over issues such as Éponine versus Cosette, 10th Anniversary Concert (aka The Dream Cast) versus the 25th Anniversary Concert, and whether Grantaire was secretly in love with Enjolras (yes!).

To keep me occupied until I get to see the show, I will be watching the following videos on repeat for the next two weeks:

So, are you Team 10th Anniversary Concert or Team 25th Anniversary Concert?

- Marius got better from being shot in the shoulder and hacked in the head and submerged in sewage and loaded with lint.
- …somehow.
- Then he reconciled with M. Gillenormand and got permission to marry Cosette.
- Cosette came to visit.
- So did Valjean.
- Valjean brought 600,000 francs.
- Best engagement present ever.

…and now, the thrilling continuation!

JEAN VALJEAN

Book Five: Grandson and Grandfather

Chapter V: Deposit Your Money in Some Forest Rather Than With Some Notary

Sound financial advice.

pg. 1348:

The reader has undoubtedly understood, without the need to explain at length, that Jean Valjean, thanks to his first escape of a few days after the Champmathieu affair, had been able to come to Paris and to withdraw from Lafitte’s in good time the sum he had earned under the name of Monsieur Madeleine, at Montreuil-sur-mer; and that, in the fear of being retaken, which did in fact happen to him a short time later, he had concealed and buried that sum in the forest of Montfermeil, in the place called the Blaru grounds.

Perhaps it’s just my short 21st-century attention span, but I would call spending about a page on a topic “explaining at length.”

Anyway, yes, that’s how come Cosette has 600,000 francs now. Valjean kept only the bishop’s silver candlesticks, which he puts on the mantle in his house.

pg. 1349:

Moreover, Jean Valjean knew that he was free of Javert. It had been mentioned in his presence, and he had verified the fact in the Moniteur, which published it, that an inspector of police, named Javert, had been found drowned under a washerwoman’s boat between the Pont au Change and Pont Neuf, and that a paper left by this man, otherwise irreproachable and highly esteemed by his chiefs, led to a belief that he had committed suicide during a fit of mental aberration. “In fact,” thought Jean Valjean, “since once he had me in his power, he let me go, he must have already been crazy.”

Chapter VI: Each In His Own Way, the Two Old Men Do Everything So That Cosette May Be Happy

The two old men in question are Valjean and M. Gillenormand.

Valjean’s way of securing Cosette’s happiness is by forging her origin story.

pg. 1350:

He arranged a family of dead people for her, a sure means of incurring no objection.

He claims Fauvent (gardener from the nunnery, if you’ve forgotten) was her real dad, and he brought her up in his brother’s stead. He gets all the nuns to testify to this as well, since they could never tell the two Fauchelevents apart in the first place. So Cosette becomes a legal orphan, which is quite handy.

pg. 1351:

Cosette learned that she was not the daughter of that old man whom she had so long called father. He was only a relative; another Fauchelevent was her real father. At any other time, this would have broken her heart. But at this ineffable hour, it was only a little shadow, a darkening, and she was so joyful that this cloud was quick to disappear. She had Marius. The young man came, the good old man faded away; such is life.

And then, for many long years, Cosette had been used to seeing enigmas around her; everybody who has had a mysterious childhood is always ready for certain renunciations.

That’s what I love best about Cosette––she’s resilient as hell. Nothing’s gonna ever keep this kid down.

pg. 1351:

She continued, however, to say “father” to Jean Valjean.

D’aww…

M. Gillenormand, meanwhile, takes charge of the wedding preparations, particularly the wedding presents. He empties the closets of all his dead wives, mistresses, etc. and gives it all to Cosette. Then he goes on a three-and-a-half page rant about how this wedding needs to have the best party ever and young people don’t know how to party these days, which provides us with this aside.

pg. 1353:

Marius, don’t get angry; let me speak; I speak no evil of the people, you see; but take it not amiss that I have my little fling at the bourgeoisie. I am one of them.

Not that Marius was paying him any attention in the first place.

pg. 1355:

While the grandfather, in full lyric effusion, was listening to himself, Cosette and Marius were intoxicated with looked at each other freely.

Seriously? You two aren’t sick of that yet?

While all this is happening, Mlle. Gillenormand continues to be a prude (Hugo’s word). Her disapproval of Cosette is only dispersed by her knowledge of the 600,000 francs Cosette is bringing to the table.

pg. 1356:

[Mlle. Gillenormand] was rich, in fact, and her father was not. She had therefore reserved her decision on that score. It is probably that, if the marriage had been poor, she would have left it poor. So much the worse for monsieur, my nephew! He marries a beggar, let him be a beggar. But Cosette’s half-million pleased the aunt, and changed her feelings in regard to this pair of lovers. Some consideration is due to six hundred thousand francs, and it was clear that she could not do anything but leave her fortune to these young people, since they no longer needed it.

Here, Mlle. Gillenormand––just for you:

Now stop being awful.

After the wedding, Marius and Cosette will move into M. Gillenormand’s house. He’ll give them his bedroom, and his library will become Marius’s office so Marius can finally do the damn job he’s been trained for and stop being a leech on society.

Chapter VII: The Effects of Dream Mingled with Happiness

Cosette continues to visit Marius every day. M. Fauchelevent chaperones her, so Marius sees a lot of him as well. They don’t speak much.

pg. 1357:

Once, on the subject of education, which Marius wanted to see free and obligatory, spread over all forms, lavished on everyone like air and sunshine, in one word, available to all people. they fell into unison and almost into a conversation.

Marius retains some vague memory of M. Fauchelevent’s presence at the barricade, but he’s not quite sure if it’s actual fact or just his brain playing tricks on him thanks to the PTSD he’s incurred.

pg. 1358:

At times Marius covered his face with his hands, and the vague past tumultuously crossed the twilight that filled his brain.

Poor bby.

Instead of asking M. Fauchelevent directly whether or not he was at the barricade, Marius brings up the Rue de la Chanvrerie in conversation and asks if M. Fauchelevent is familiar with it. M. Fauchelevent asks him to repeat the name, then declares that it means nothing to him.

pg. 1359:

The answer, which bore on the name of the street, and not on the street, itself, appeared to Marius more conclusive than it was.

Chapter VIII: Two Men Impossible to Find

While he waits for his wedding to happen, Marius employs “various agents” (pg. 1360) to search for any surviving member of the Thénardier family.

pg. 1360:

The fact that Thénardier was a scoundrel took away nothing from the fact that he had saved Colonel Pontmercy. Thénardier was a criminal to everybody except Marius.

And not knowing the real scene of the Waterloo battlefield, Marius did not know this peculiarity, that with reference to Thénardier, his father was in the strange situation of owing his life to him without owing him any thanks.

Eponine is dead, Gavroche is dead, and the Thénardiess died in prison offscreen. This leaves Azelma and Thénardier himself as the only survivors.

Since the Thénardiess is dead (and Boulatruelle acquitted, Claquesous killed by Enjolras at the barricade…) and Thénardier has escaped from prison, it’s pretty much impossible for the police to solve the robbery at the Gorbeau house. Since he escaped, Thénardier is condemned to death, assuming they can catch him again.

Marius is also searching for whoever rescued him from the barricade. He doesn’t remember who it was, and no one else present that night is any help in the matter.

pg. 1362:

The doorkeeper, whose candle had lighted Marius’s tragic arrival, along had noticed theman in question, and this is thedescription he gave: “He was horrible.”

Oh yeah, as if you’d look like a million bucks covered in blood and sewage.

pg. 1362:

In the hope of deriving some help in his research from them, Marius had kept the bloody clothes he was wearing when he was brought back to his grandfather’s. On examining the coat, it was noticed that one part of the hem was oddly torn. A piece was missing.

~*~FORESHADOWING!~*~

Marius talks to Cosette and Valjean about his miraculous escape from the barricade and his quest to find the dude who saved him. He goes on for a bit about how totally awesome this dude must have been (oh, if he only knew…) and how desperate he is to find him.

pg. 1363:

Oh! If Cosette’s six hundred thousand francs were mine––”

“They are yours,” interrupted Jean Valjean.

“Well,” resumed Marius, “I would give them to find that man!”

Jean Valjean kept silent.

When I finally managed to sit down and watch Tom Hooper’s screen adaptation of iconic musical Les Misérables, I did so in almost complete ignorance of the story. Nevertheless, this lack of knowledge did not dampen my enthusiasm for watching the film; I had intended to see it at the cinema but circumstances had conspired against me to make that impossible. Having eventually picked up a copy on blu-ray, I can say it was worth the wait.

Les Misérables charts the story of several key characters in 19^th century France, all looking for redemption or revolution of some sort. The main protagonist is Jean Valjean (Hugh Jackman). Having spent 19 years in prison for stealing a loaf of bread, Valjean is finally released, but told he will be on parole for the rest of his life. He initially struggles to break free from thieving, but with the help of a priest he finds God. He decides to break parole, assume a new identity and start his life afresh as an honest man.

All of this takes place at the very beginning of the film, and the quality of performance from Jackman and direction from Hooper hooked me right into the story. As Valjean paces around, singing and trying to work out what to do with his life, the camera follows him face on. This way, as Valjean is plotting his future, we see his face contort with anger, frustration and sadness. Jackman wrings every possible emotion out of his character, and Hooper places us in the perfect position to view it. It’s compelling stuff right from the off.

It also gives us a feel for the story we’ll be seeing for the next two and a half hours; full of sadness and despair, but with an element of hope and redemption. Intertwined with Valjean’s story is that of his prison guard Javert (Russell Crowe). Once parole is broken, Javert spends years hunting Valjean, and there are several meetings between the two before the film comes to a conclusion. I found the scenes between the pair to be engaging and I believe they worked well together. If I’m honest, it took a little while for me to adjust to Crowe’s singing. I think that probably reflects more on me as a viewer more than it does on Crowe’s performance; he is not an obvious casting choice and he doesn’t come across as a natural for this style of film, yet his performance is still good.

Also linked with Valjean is Fastine (Anne Hathaway), a factory worker who quickly falls on hard times. She has an illegitimate daughter who she is sending money to, and as she is unable to look after her, Valjean takes her into his care. Hathaway took the academy award for best supporting actress for her portrayal of Fastine, and you’d be hard pushed to say she didn’t deserve it. Almost every second of her screen time is extremely moving, and her performance of I Dreamed a Dream is glorious, at once heartbreaking and achingly beautiful.

Her daughter Cosette (Amanda Seyfried) also has moving scenes to get through and she proves to be another wise choice for the film. Her performance is good, she can sing, and as with almost every other actor in this movie, she is completely engaging throughout. In terms of the other eye-catching casting choices, Samantha Barks is wrought with emotion as Éponine, a girl who falls in love but struggles to do anything about it. I thought she was a fantastic supporting character. Eddie Redmayne is excellent as Marius, a would-be revolutionary who also has a love story to contend with.

I found Sacha Baron Cohen and Helena Bonham Carter to be amusing as The Thénardier’s, a couple of inn-owners prone to conning their customers. They both played their parts very well, and provided some genuine laughs, which was most welcome in a film not exactly side-splitting in nature. That said, the characters don’t feel that important and their development is easy to forget as soon as they are off screen. That’s through no fault of the performances though; the characters are just not the easiest to care about. Finally, I must throw in a mention for Daniel Huttlestone as Gavroche, a street child who becomes instrumental during a barricade. Huttlestone is full of charm and is completely entertaining.

It probably goes without saying at this point that the story of Les Misérables is excellent, and I can now fully appreciate why it has gained such iconic status. It is extremely ambitious, spanning many years and taking in huge stories, affecting society at large and detailing the effect on many individual characters. For a story that takes in so many key individuals, they are all extremely well developed and almost all of them become people that you invest in and care about deeply.

Of course, one can’t review Les Misérables without waxing lyrical about the standard of the music. The songs are used to create superb dialogue between the characters, the quality of which occasionally left me completely awestruck. Once one brilliant line has tunefully tumbled out of somebody’s mouth, you have just enough time to consider its brilliance before you’re hit with another bit of fantastic prose. People far more qualified than me will have written plenty about the famous songs of this story, but really, they are at times breathtaking and beautiful.

I was very impressed with Tom Hooper’s direction. The movie looks excellent. It’s often dark, which is completely necessary and perfectly fits the mood of the story. Credit must also go to the costume department; the characters look magnificent in their outfits – it’s just another area of this picture that is perfectly judged. If I will level one slight criticism at this film, it is that I felt every second of its runtime. At two and a half hours, it’s not a short film and there were times that it felt like a little bit of a slog to get through. That’s not to say it doesn’t use the runtime well, in fact I would say none of it is wasted, but it’s quite heavy going so it was never a movie that felt like it was passing by quickly.

As I said though, that’s a slight criticism and should not be enough to put you off this film. What this is, is an extremely engaging story full of sadness and struggle, but tinged with enough hope to make it all bearable and the struggle worthwhile. To use something of a cliché, this movie takes you on a journey and leaves you somewhere completely different to where you started. Oh, and be prepared for one of the more moving endings to a film you’re likely to see for some time.

8/10

Looks like a storm is coming in so no swimming tonight. boooo.

Wearing::

A gray skirt, sky blue top with ivory colored lace trim around the neckline, the Venitian glass necklace I bought at the EPCOT Italy pavilion, and sandals.

Reading::

Game of Thrones book 4, A Feast for Crows; Jane Austen: A Life in Small Things; Doctors of the Church, Abundance: A Novel of Marie Antoinette (I love anything about Maria Antoinette). Over vacation I read the following: Dearie, a biography of Julia Child, which was tremendously well-done; Possession which was a glorious read, which you must read immediately, and Game of Thrones 2 and 3. I also re-read Ahab’s Wife.

In the CD Player::

Les Miz complete recording, Act I. Working on word memorization and running through blocking in my head as I listen.

Around the house::

Oh, the general stuff that happens when you’re home from vacation: unpacking is almost done, however. Grocery shopping needs to happen, as well as general cleaning and tidying of post-unpacking. I’m trying to establish a rhythm to my housekeeping a la Fly Lady or something of that order.

From the kitchen::

Well first I have to have things in the kitchen. I got two cookbooks in Orlando: Delicious Disney and one written by Princess Diana’s chef. Both have great things in them that I want to try. But tonight is Chipotle night.

Praying::

That two of my friends, who are moving, sell their houses!

Sharing::

“Every Francis needs His Clare”

Importance of community theater

Working out::

Workouts for every day that I don’t have rehearsal. So that’s today, tomorrow, Thursday; Friday I’m going to a yoga class, so that counts. Maybe a pick up ballet class tomorrow?

Plans for the week::

SO MUCH.

Wednesday: Music rehearsal

Thursday: Lunch w/ Dad

Friday: Restorative yoga class w/ a friend of mine

Saturday: Music rehearsal

Sunday: Blocking rehearsal

I also need to write two letters and a thank you note.

Captured::

The Grey Stuff at Be Our Guest. Divine.

I just saw Les Miserables, and I have never cried so much in my life.

I love it. It has almost everything I love in life: music, revolution, ideals, heartbreaking feelings and love.

I’m writing this here because I like that no one judges me:

If I ever get to play in a version of Les Miserables I would like to be Cosette.

There I said it.

Well, I’m still a little shaken by the movie so this will be a short post.

Bye

A

We got lost a time or two (on purpose) and attempted to make a daisy chain. We also laughed and talked and shrieked because it’s what we do best when we’re together. We are ridiculous.

What I wore:

* Overalls- thrifted $4
* Purple patterned tank top- thrifted $2
* Blue scarf and white cardigan- borrowed (from my sister )
* Shoes- Target $20

I know, it’s embarrassing that the article of clothing that is most expensive are the shoes. But, still, $20? I’ll take that! (And obviously, I did. ha ha)

I’m pretty obcessed with these overalls, though. I’ve been looking around for a good pair for a while. As a ’90′s kid, I grew up in this clothing staple. I was starting to miss ‘em….

Isn’t she a cutie?? She always looks adorable like this. I’m not sure where Sara got her get-up or I would gladly spill her style secrets. (I think it’s those cool shades…and the red lipstick. Totally can’t pull either one of those off. For realz.)

     And there’s Miss Meghan, coming out of hiding from the behind the camera!
I am so beyond blessed by these girls’ friendships. I’ve known them since we were all young whippersnappers- 6 or 7 years old. The Lord has just been reminding me lately of how much He has given to me and how full my life is with the richness of His love. I am so undeserving of grace, yet He so gives it to me continuously, every single day. These girls are just another reminder to me of how much I am blessed. I seriously could not ask for more loyal, godly and thoughtful friends- truly beautiful inside and out. A weekend to just kick back with my girls is exactly what I needed amid the stress of life at the moment. And I think they knew that….

     Life is an adventure. It doesn’t always seem that way or feel that way, but it is. Because we are looking ahead to something greater- something bigger and better that is to come. Something that my tiny heart and tiny mind can barely imagine.  There is something about summer days that remind me about that- when the sun is shining so brightly around me, and my soul is filled up with so much delight and rapture, I look ahead even more to the day where the glory of God will be my light and my soul will no longer be hurt or troubled or speckled by sin, but will forever joy in the Lord- in complete and utter perfection.

This is the great adventure. Go out and live it!

xoxo Michaela

We started off last week with the best Legacy Ladies event ever, held Monday night at the beautiful Sweet Art Gallery. It was so successful. we are going to hold our next Ladies event their in August as well. Thanks to all the ladies who attended, who organized the event, and to Susan Stripling for a challenging and creative message!

Also, I sent out a letter last week reminding people that summer is a tough time financially for churches in SW Florida, and to please remember to tithe. I expected some angry responses, as people don’t always like to be reminded that the church relies on God’s tithe to pay the bills. What I got instead were people dropping off their tithe to my house BEFORE they went out of town for the week (!), and zero negative responses.

I was frankly expecting a down day last Sunday, June 9. School was officially out, families were traveling, and people had a sunny weekend finally after a full week of almost ceaseless rain. What we got instead was a room-full of people, some of whom were new, but many who are committed to the vision and work of Legacy Church. This is happening, in a big way…in a “God way”. At the end of my sermon on “God’s glory” (not your most “user-friendly” topic), the altar was filled with people giving their lives to Christ, asking to experience more of Him and His glory in their lives. Not what I expected either…

Dawn and I went to a lovely lunch with a group made up mostly of single adults in our church. We ate at the 5th Ave Cafe, and the room was filled with laughter and good conversation. A lady sat at our table and started telling me how the sermon had touched her, and then she started to cry. Certainly didn’t expect that.

We met at the Loudermilk Park beach at 5pm to baptize some new believers in Christ. Interestingly enough, all these believers were not children raised in Christian families, but grown adults (and one teenager). One was a Jewish man who began coming to our church in January and has not missed one service since! He has had probably around 100 people visit our church that he has invited, and the baptism was no exception and more of his friends witnessed his public testimony of faith in Jesus the Messiah.

Later, I sat on the beach and watched as everyone enjoyed each other’s company. I talked for a while with another man who told me how God had led him to our church. He reminisced about the first time he visited our church, and God told him this was were he was supposed to be. God spoke to him so clearly that moment that he actually turned around to see who had called his name! Didn’t expect that either. Maybe God is teaching me to expect Him to do the unexpected, and that something miraculous really is happening in Legacy Church

Coming Soon

This coming Sunday is Father Day, and I’ll be preaching on something that is often a challenge for men – worship. Not only do men tend to be outnumbered in worship attendance by women, they often seem uncomfortable expressing their affection for God in worship services. We’ll talk about that and about why worship is so important to God. And as a special treat, Lazaro Arbos will be singing this Sunday, so invite your friends as we wish him well on his summer tour with American Idol.

Our own Bill Gonzales is starting a dynamic new ministry to the people of Immokalee. It will not only focus on evangelism but also on continuing discipleship, which is something many other ministries ignore. Bill has a great deal of past ministry experience, and he and his dear wife Sandra are committed members at Legacy. I hope you will stay after the service on June 23 to hear his heart and vision for reaching this area with so many needs.

Finally, I am in the last 2 and a half week of rehearsals for Les Miserables before we open on June 28. I can tell God has His hand on the production and is going to use it to bring glory to Himself! Please continue to pray for my health, strength (I have to carry a man all over the stage, and I get thrown around quite a bit as well), and for me to be the best ambassador for Christ I possibly can!

In coordination with the play running through the month of July, I will be doing a sermon series that whole month called THE MESSAGE OF LES MIS. There is so much spiritual depth to be gleaned from the play, which actually has Scripture in the song lyrics and so many Christian messages in the story. In the play’s program, people will read in my bio that I am the pastor at Legacy and will see our website address. So hopefully some of them will come and visit us during the month of July, and I know you will make them all feel right at home as you always do!

So to sum it all up – God is working, lives are changing, and we’ve only just begun! I love you and I love being the pastor of Legacy Church of Naples!

God bless,

Pastor David Gipson

- Javert had a crisis of faith.
- As a result, he wrote his superiors a firmly-worded but polite letter about all the various failings currently plaguing the French criminal justice system.
- Then he jumped into the Seine.
- Seconds later, Jean Valjean jumped in after him and dragged him back to shore and gave him a blanket and some tea and then they were best pals and everything was beautiful and nothing hurt and they both lived happily ever after the end.

…and now, the thrilling continuation!

JEAN VALJEAN

Book Five: Grandson and Grandfather

Chapter I: In Which We See the Tree with the Plate of Zinc Once More

pg. 1331:

Sometime after the events we have just related, the Sieur Boulatruelle had a vivid emotion.

Who?

pg. 1331:

The Sieur Boulatruelle is that road-laborer from Montfermeil we have already glimpsed in the dark portions of this book.

Oh.

So what does he do?

pg. 1331:

He broke stones and damaged travelers on the highway.

Oh dear.

Boulatruelle was most recently seen as a party to the hostage situation in the Thénardier’s last apartment––the one that led to everybody getting arrested and going to prison. Everybody except for Boulatruelle, who was so drunk at the time that the police could not positively determine whether he was the victim or one of the aggressors, so they set him free. Once free, he returned to breaking pavement and heads near Montfermeil.

Back to the present. Just before dawn one morning, Boulatruelle sees a familiar-looking dude walking among the trees on the side of the road. Boulatruelle can’t quite remember where he knows this dude from, so he has to think some deep thoughts for a bit.

pg. 1332:

While he was meditating, under the sheer weight of his meditation he had bowed his head, which was natural but not very smart.

This kind of behavior is something of a pattern in Boulatruelle’s life.

Boulatrouelle comes to the conclusion that this man is the same man he saw burying treasure in the woods once upon a time when Boulatruelle was drunk. Of course, by the time Boulatruelle has figured this out and lifted his head again, the man has disappeared. Boulatruelle arms himself with a pickaxe––

pg. 1333:

“Here is something,” he muttered, “for prying into the ground or a man.”

––and goes off to find his quarry. He follows the trail for a bit, then climbs a tree. From there he sees the mysterious man go into a glade of trees which includes on particular chestnut tree with a zinc plate nailed to its trunk. Boulatruelle hops down from the tree and heads for the glade.

The path to the glade is twisty, turny, and takes fifteen minutes. Boulatruelle tries to take a shortcut through the woods in a straight line, but forgets that fighting through underbrush and over rocks takes way longer than walking down a clear path. Because of this, his technically-shorter path makes his trip a forty-minute one. By the time he reaches the glade, all that’s left for him is an empty hole in front of the zinc-plated tree. No treasure for Boulatruelle.

pg. 1334:

“Robber!” cried Boulatruelle, shaking both fists at the horizon.

Chapter II: Escaping From Civil War, Marius Prepares for Domestic War

pg. 1334:

For a long time Marius was neither dead nor alive.

Schrödinger’s Marius, then. He’s delirious with fever and head-wound-induced-concussion for weeks, during which time he repeats Cosette’s name over and over. They’ve dressed his wounds with lint, which seems like a bad idea, since according to Wikipedia:

Lint shed from clothing during the course of wear may also carry bacteria and viruses. For this reason, the presence of lint presents a danger during surgery, when it might carry microorganisms into open wounds.

Then again, germ theory was not widely known in 1832. Still kind of surprise that the combination of open wounds + sewage + lint hasn’t killed Marius yet.

More fun medical facts, this time from Hugo:

pg. 1335:

The dressings were complicated and difficult, since the fastening of bandages by adhesive tape had not yet been invented.

(Adhesive bandages were invented in 1845 by surgeon Dr. Horace Day.)

(Medical history is super duper fascinating to me okay? Ask me about Experiments and Observations on the Gastric Juice, and the Physiology of Digestion by William Beaumont, M.D. sometime. It’ll be a hoot.)

But back to the lint (WHY ARE THEY USING LINT?). It’s being delivered to the Gillenormand house at least once a day in vast quantities by a white-haired, well-dressed gentleman who is totally not Jean Valjean.

Marius spends three months completely incapacitated, then another two months of lying around on a chaise lounge waiting for his stupid shoulderblade to heal. This lengthy healing period has the double benefit of shielding Marius from any legal persecution for his role in the riots. By the time he’s well enough to even think about leaving the house, everyone’s pretty much over the whole emeute thing.

M. Gillenormand spends these five-to-six months freaking out.

pg. 1336:

They had great difficulty in preventing him from spending every night with the wounded man; he had his large armchair brought to the side of Marius’s bed; he insisted that his daughter should take the finest linen in the house for compresses and bandages. Mlle. Gillenormand, like a prudent and elder person, found means to spare the fine linen, while she let the grandfather suppose that he was obeyed. M. Gillenormand did not allow anybody to explain to him that for making lint, cambric is not as good as coarse linen, nor new linen as good as old. He superintended all the dressings, from which Mlle. Gillenormand modestly absented herself. When the dead flesh was cut away with scissors, he would say, “Ow! Ow!” Nothing was so touching as to see him hand a cup of herbal tea to the wounded man with his gentle senile trembling. He overwhelmed the doctor with questions. He did not realize that he always asked the same ones.

Once the doctor declares Marius is out of danger, M. Gillenormand parties like it’s 1999, singing, dancing, giving his servants ridiculously huge tips, etc.

pg. 1337:

A neighbor, a pretty woman actually, was amazed to receive a large bouquet one morning; it was M. Gillenormand who sent it to her. The husband made a scene.

Even his politics fall by the wayside in the face of Marius’s recovery.

pg. 1337:

He called Marius Monsieur the Baron. [...] He shouted, “Vive la République!“

Marius, meanwhile, is very suspicious of his grandfather’s about-face in attitude. Assuming his grandfather’s answer to the question of marrying Cosette will be the same as before, Marius gets preemptively angry and acts out. At least, as much as an invalid can act out. He snaps at his grandfather for speaking poorly of Robespierre, etc., and takes his grandfather’s resulting silence as anger rather than shame or humility. This does not bode well for his plans to demand the right to marry Cosette.

pg. 1339:

He determined that in case of refusal he would tear off his bandages, dislocate his shoulder, lay bare and open his remaining wounds, and refuse all nourishment. His wounds were his ammunition. To have Cosette or die.

You’d think he’d be over this whole martyr-for-love thing by now, but no.

Chapter III: Marius Attacks

One day, in the Gillenormand house…

M. GILLENORMAND: You should start eating meat rather than fish.
MARIUS: I want to get married.
M. GILLENORMAND: Okay then!

Marius is stunned by his grandfather’s acquiescence. M. Gillenormand takes advantage of this shocked silence to speak for about a page or so on the ridiculousness of the situation.

pg. 1340-1341:

I propose a cutlet, and you answer: ‘A propos, I wish to marry.’ That is what I call a transition. [...] Well, too bad, rage on. I will do what you want, that cuts you out of it, idiot. [...] I had a strong notion, as soon as you were better, to plant her squarely at your bedside, but it is only in romances that they introduce young girls unceremoniously beside the couch of the pretty wounded men who interest them. That does not do. What would your aunt have said? You have been quite naked three-quarters of the time, my good man. Ask Nicolette, who has not left you a minute, if it was possible for a woman to be here. And then what would the doctor have said? That doesn’t cure the fever, a pretty girl. [...] Cosette, so be it; love, so be it; I ask nothing better. Monsieur, be so kind as to get married. Be happy, my dear child.”

So saying, the old man burst into sobs.

They cry, they hug, Marius calls M. Gillenormand “Father,” etc. Cosette will come visit Marius tomorrow. M. Gillenormand tries to reference the poet André Chénier but can’t do it without disparaging the revolutionaries who killed him.

pg. 1342:

M. Gillenormand thought he perceived a slight frown on Marius’s brow, although, in truth, we should say, he was no longer listening to him, flown off as he was into ecstasy, and thinking far more of Cosette than of 1793. The grandfather, trembling at having introduced André Chénier so inopportunely, hastily went on, “Murdered is not the word. The fact is that the great revolutionary geniuses, who were not evilly disposed, that is incontestable, who were heroes, my God, found that André Chénier embarrassed them a little, and they had him guillot––. That is to say, those great men, on the seventh of Thermidor, in the interest of the public safety, begged André Chénier to have the kindness to go––”

Unable to stand it any longer, M. Gillenormand flees the room and finds Basque in the hall.

pg. 1342:

He seized Basque by the collar and cried full in his face with fury, “By the hundred thousand Javottes of the devil, those brigands assassinated him!”

“Who, monsieur?”

“André Chénier!”

“Yes, monsieur,” said Basque in dismay.

Chapter IV: Mademoiselle Gillenormand At Last Thinks It Not Improper That Monsieur Fauchelevent Should Come In With Something Under His Arm

pg. 1343:

Cosette and Marius saw each other again.

Well, duh.

Hugo declares it would be impossible to describe what follows, and then proceeds to describe it. Because this is the age of chaperones, he whole Gillenormand household is gathered in Marius’s room when Cosette enters.

pg. 1343:

Just at that instant the grandfather was about to blow his nose; he stopped short, holding his nose in his handkerchief, and looking at Cosette above it, “Adorable!” he exclaimed.

Then he blew his nose noisily.

Fortunately, Cosette has eyes and ears for no one but Marius. She’s too stunned by being in his presence to even think of speaking. Meanwhile, Valjean has followed her into the room, but without blood all over his face, none of the servants recognize him as the man who brought Marius to the house six months ago. His is carrying a medium-sized package wrapped in paper under his arm. Mlle. Gillenormand assumes the package is a book. She disapproves, because she hates books. M. Gillenormand shushes her.

pg. 1344:

And bowing, he said in a loud voice, “Monsieur Tranchelevent––”

Father Gillenormand did not do this on purpose, but inattention to proper names was an aristocratic way of his.

M. Gillenormand, on behalf of Marius, asks for Cosette’s hand in marriage. Valjean, on behalf of Cosette, accepts. M. Gillenormand turns to Marius and Cosette and makes an announcement:

pg. 1344:

“Permission to adore each other.”

And so they do. Cosette talks for a page about everything from her outfit to how much it sucked to think Marius was dying or dead. Out of nowhere comes this squick.

pg. 1344-1345:

They say your shoulder was terrible. They told me they could put a fist in it. And then they’ve cut your flesh with scissors.

Marius’s response to all this?

pg. 1345:

“Angel!” said Marius.

“Angel” is the only word in the language that cannot be worn out. No other word would resist the pitiless use lovers make of it.

I think even “angel” would crack under the strain of being used by Marius and Cosette.

M. Gillenormand encourages everyone else to talk amongst themselves loudly so Marius and Cosette don’t get eavesdropped on. He scolds his daughter for a bit, then sings and dances with glee, then gets distracted.

pg. 1346:

“By the way!”

“What, father?”

“Didn’t you have an intimate friend?”

“Yes, Courfeyrac.”

“What has become of him?”

“He is dead.”

“Very well.”

So, what, was M. Gillenormand convinced Marius would be a bachelor forever due to his “intimate friendship” with Courfeyrac, and thus his relationship with Cosette comes as a surprise? Or does he just like taunting Marius with the knowledge that all his friends are dead?

M. Gillenormand goes on to talk about how Cosette is beautiful and that’s awesome, but laments that what he wills to Marius won’t be enough to keep them both in comfort for the rest of their lives.

pg.1347:

“Mademoiselle Euphrasie Fauchelevent has six hundred thousand francs.”

It was Jean Valjean’s voice.

He had not yet uttered a word, nobody seemed even to remember that he was there, and he stood erect and motionless behind all these happy people.

“How is Mademoiselle Euphrasie involved?” asked the grandfather, startled.

“That’s me,” answered Cosette.

Valjean sets down his package and opens it to reveal a buttload of banknotes. Mlle. Gillenormand is stunned. M. Gillenormand is pleased.

pg. 1348:

As for Marius and Cosette, they were looking at each other during this time; they paid little attention to this detail.

Of course.

Where was I again? Oh yes; The King’s Speech, the most critically successful to date of Hooper’s films, bagging a Golden Globe, seven BAFTAs and four Oscars. For the four of you who never quite heard what the plot was about, our gaze is cast back to 1925 and onto the then Duke of York, Prince Albert (Colin Firth), second in line to the throne after his older brother David (Guy Pearce). Albert is among of the most interesting Royals in (relatively) recent history and was the father to our current Queen, but the part of his character we are most interested in now is his heavily pronounced stammer. This impediment is hardly conducive to him being comfortable in a heavily public role, and he tries multiple methods to cure himself; but this is the early 20th century, and we are yet to see the extraordinary advances in medical science that came along during the decades after the Second World War. As such, the treatments offered are somewhat Victorian in nature and don’t work, leading to increasing frustration from the Prince regarding the issue, to the point where he basically decides to give up. His wife Elizabeth (Helena Bonham Carter), however, is more determined, and puts him in touch with Lionel Logue (Geoffrey Rush), an Australian speech therapist with somewhat unconventional methods (and indeed mannerisms) for the time.

The changing relationship between Logue and the Prince is the central plot thread for the remainder of the film; one a rather bluntly-spoken commoner and the other who has spent his entire life being served in deference to with the complex rules of formality and tradition acting as his social bodyguard. That this is going to cause tension is obvious from the opening scene, and is indicative of one of the film’s most prominent flaws; the near-total lack of anticipation. This does not half to be a bad thing necessarily; many a good film has been so without any need to resort to tension or anticipation, but every scene of The King’s Speech can pretty much be calculated from the first five seconds, and sticking around to watch frequently doesn’t add anything to the central plotline.

It’s a shame really, because there are other aspects (and other scenes) that the film gets magnificently right, particularly those scenes that focus on the transitional state of the world at the time. This particular point in history was a turbulent one; times were changing, the new and old were trying (and in many cases failing) to coexist, and the establishment was frequently struggling to cope with all this newness. No establishment embodied this more than the royalty; these were the last days for nobility in all its pomp and finery, the days when it finally realised how much of its power had been stripped away and how it could not go on pretending to be a divine figure of authoritative power. As the film makes clear, monarchies had been falling across Europe, and others were to be reduced to puppets beneath new regimes, and while this theme is never explicitly mentioned or made a central part of the film, it subtly pervades all around it in a way that makes one feel genuine sympathy for the characters concerned. It is present in the way the prince treats the children and the stories he tells of how his father treated him, in the methods that work for him and the methods that don’t, even in the way characters address one another. All in all a wonderful piece of directing to work in there; I only wish it had taken centre stage more frequently. Perhaps then it wouldn’t perpetually feel as if it were 15 minutes away from finishing.

Mention must of course be made of the actors; Colin Firth took three ‘Best Actor’ prizes for his role as the king, and I found his portrayal incredibly interesting. Firth has always brought a particular brand of confidence, even cockiness, to the roles he plays and is frequently cast in controlling figures of power for this very reason; but here he is required to express both the power and authority of a monarch and the fragility of a patient. The film’s plot, and in particular Geoffrey Rush’s perfectly executed character of Logue, mean that these two opposing images must frequently share the limelight and come into conflict with one another, whilst all the while having to make themselves felt through the Prince’s stammer. This would be a mean task for even the most skilled of actors, and for someone such as Firth who I have never seen portray weakness in this way, it is a particularly interesting challenge. I wouldn’t say that he pulls it off perfectly, or that I find his performance massively compelling (he doesn’t quite manage to express how hard he’s trying, from my point of view), but it is nonetheless a good attempt at a very challenging role. This may have been somewhat hindered by the fact that, as usual, Bonham Carter manages to steal the show, once again showing her extraordinary versatility as an actress with a striking, and occasionally even funny, portrayal of the Duchess (a woman we would now refer to as the Queen Mother). That she and Rush only took home one ‘Supporting Actor/Actress’ role apiece is, to me, quite an eyebrow raiser, even if it was up against The Fighter. Some other performances, most notably Timothy Spall turning up as Winston Churchill for no readily explained reason, are less beneficial to the film and often feel as though they are taking screentime away from what’s important (there’s a fine line between ‘interesting cameo’ and ‘why the hell are they here?’), but thankfully they are not prevalent enough for this to be a massive problem.

To me, The King’s Speech is far from a perfect film; it is not terribly compelling all too frequently, large pieces of the plot seem to serve very little purpose, the script takes significant artistic liberties with historical fact (yes, I know that shouldn’t be important, but I’m too much of a nerd about these things), the plot is somewhat formulaic and predictable and it can’t quite seem to make up its mind over what it is, thematically speaking, about. However, it is executed so exquisitely that these flaws, in part, hardly matter; yes, they’re there, yes the film is imperfect, but that’s no reason not to sit back and enjoy the experience. Did The King’s Speech deserve two ‘Best Picture’ awards? Perhaps not. Is it a bad film? Not a chance. Perhaps not worth digging through to see, but certainly worth watching if you get the chance.

At the age of sixteen, one evening at the opera, he had had the honor to be stared at through opera-glasses by two beauties at the same time—ripe and celebrated beauties then, and sung by Voltaire, the Camargo and the Salle. Caught between two fires, he had beaten a heroic retreat towards a little dancer, a young girl named Nahenry, who was sixteen like himself, obscure as a cat, and with whom he was in love. He abounded in memories. He was accustomed to exclaim: “How pretty she was—that Guimard-Guimardini-Guimardinette, the last time I saw her at Longchamps, her hair curled in sustained sentiments, with her come-and-see of turquoises, her gown of the color of persons newly arrived, and her little agitation muff!” He had worn in his young manhood a waistcoat of Nain-Londrin, which he was fond of talking about effusively. “I was dressed like a Turk of the Levant Levantin,” said he. Madame de Boufflers, having seen him by chance when he was twenty, had described him as “a charming fool.” He was horrified by all the names which he saw in politics and in power, regarding them as vulgar and bourgeois. He read the journals, the newspapers, the gazettes as he said, stifling outbursts of laughter the while. “Oh!” he said, “what people these are! Corbiere! Humann! Casimir Perier! There’s a minister for you! I can imagine this in a journal: ‘M. Gillenorman, minister!’ that would be a farce. Well! They are so stupid that it would pass”; he merrily called everything by its name, whether decent or indecent, and did not restrain himself in the least before ladies. He uttered coarse speeches, obscenities, and filth with a certain tranquillity and lack of astonishment which was elegant. It was in keeping with the unceremoniousness of his century. It is to be noted that the age of periphrase in verse was the age of crudities in prose. His god-father had predicted that he would turn out a man of genius, and had bestowed on him these two significant names: Luc-Esprit.

There are a lot of people in the show, so we’ve split the chorus into “under 25″ an “over 25″ groups. (You have to be at least coming into high school to be in the show, little kid parrts excepted.) So as someone in the “over 25″ group, I’m in “At the End of the Day”, “Lovely Ladies”, “Look Down”, and “One Day More!” in Act I. In Act II, I’m not in much, and what I’m in has yet to be determined. The “Under 25″ chorus makes up the students, so they’re in the bulk of Act II, before they all die gloriously (or not) on the barricades.

Blocking of Act I has started–we’ve gotten to “Look Down”, which is good progress. It leaves only “One Day More” as a full ensemble number left to do. We’re also starting the choreography for “Master of the House” next week.

Costuming also has begun, and praise Jesus, I have my costumes. Usually I hate costuming for shows like this because it’s hard to find one that fits someone who isn’t 18 with a size 00 waist. But this year I found a skirt and blouse that fit and aren’t hideous. We have to find our own “Lovely Lady” outfit, so I’m using a dress I bought at the local Irish Festival last year which I hope and pray will work. The dresses weren’t that skimpy–not as skimpy as they would be about 50 years later, at the end of the 19th century–but there still needs to be some skin visible (since we’re completely covered, otherwise). We’re also wearing ankle boots or other sorts of boots, not character shoes, so thank God I have a pair from Parade.

Rehearsal schedule for the week is pretty light: music rehearsals on W and Saturday, and then blocking rehearsal on Sunday, where we will hopefully tackle the Act I finale.

It was raining and gross out so we stayed in and rented Les Miserables.  I really enjoyed the movie and I can see why it won all the awards that it did.  I didn’t really know the story line before seeing it, so it was interesting to see that.  I loved the little guy, Gavroche.

from Wikipedia

Saturday

The sun decided to come out and we headed over to Zac’s old building for a daytime BBQ with some friends.

Some of the people went to the Nationals game and the rest of us left for other things.  We headed off to run some errands.  After dinner we went for a walk and then settled in to watch the first episode of The Americans.  We have the whole season sitting on the DVR.  I’m glad we have it all taped to watch, it seems like it will be a really good show!

from FX

Sunday

We went to church and then out to breakfast in the morning.  I spent the afternoon at Neha’s house trying on some traditional indian clothes to wear to a wedding we’re going to at the end of the month.  Everything is so colorful and fun! I love all the embroidery and beading on what she lent to me.

Zac and I stepped up our game on our evening walk and jogged the first half and then walked back.  We went just under a mile, but we didn’t stop and had a hill to run up!  Not bad for having not really gone on a run since April.

Neil Patrick Harris, Broadway standout and star of “How I Met Your Mother” on CBS, hosted the Tony Awards for the third time Sunday night and again brought in rave reviews.

The show is already renowned for its over-the-top musical numbers (this is a program based largely around Broadway musicals, mind you) and Harris brought his biting humor to the production, as evidenced by his sarcastic shout out to Shia LaBeouf, who left the cast of theater show “Orphans” earlier this year.

Read more at MStars

Niall and myself, 18th May 2013

1. Was acting something you always wanted to do?

God, it was such a long process, I’d bore you if I went into any major detail. We initially went along and prepared a couple of Rock/Pop songs, and were eventually whittled down to about 200 or so guys, who were recalled to another day in Brixton. Before that, we were asked to prepare a different song, along with the song “Gethsemane” from JCS. So, one by one, we went onto the stage there and sang our songs. From this day, we were cut down to a final 41 guys, to head off to the Bootcamp. I have to say, that was the best part of the whole experience for me – it was just  group of guys hanging out (working hard as well, obviously) and having fun. The TV Show showed the rest, really; they cut us down to 30, then we headed to Majorca and were cut down to 20. We then had to come back to London to sing for a place in the finals. Sorry….I sort of rushed that a bit, but honestly, we’d have been here all day!!

Offstage, there have been some atrociously embarrassing things that have happened to me, but I couldn’t possibly divulge – that’s how you make certain people forget about them….!

 …when hope was high and life worth living

SIKE!

I seriously had so much fun. It was a bit nerve-racking at first, since I’ve never done anything this drastic to my hair myself before, but after the first snip, I was good to go! I think it was mostly fun because it was next to impossible to “mess up.” I could just snip and buzz until all was even (at the #2 length).

Honestly, I was really surprised at how much this simple act affected me. Of course I had thoughts flutter across my mind like “Will this look good?” “I’m too big to pull off a shaved head.” “What if others don’t like it?” Turning on that razor and feeling it vibrate against my skull was my act of protest against those thoughts, those insecurities. And, in a weird way, it helped me to further understand how I don’t need anything or anyone beyond myself to survive and even thrive. I am good enough to help myself, and I don’t need to rely on or obsess about what other people think of me or how they treat me. I’ve got this.

Things that are already awesome about having no hair:

• After I shower, I am completely dry after I towel off
• Bike rides with the wind blowing right on my scalp
• Petting my head
• Swimming? (we’ll see on Wednesday!)

Anyways, if you ever find yourself thinking about shaving your head, I highly recommend it. Just remember sun screen and hats!

He lived in the Marais, Rue des Filles-du-Calvaire, No. 6. He owned the house. This house has since been demolished and rebuilt, and the number has probably been changed in those revolutions of numeration which the streets of Paris undergo. He occupied an ancient and vast apartment on the first floor, between street and gardens, furnished to the very ceilings with great Gobelins and Beauvais tapestries representing pastoral scenes; the subjects of the ceilings and the panels were repeated in miniature on the arm-chairs. He enveloped his bed in a vast, nine-leaved screen of Coromandel lacquer. Long, full curtains hung from the windows, and formed great, broken folds that were very magnificent. The garden situated immediately under his windows was attached to that one of them which formed the angle, by means of a staircase twelve or fifteen steps long, which the old gentleman ascended and descended with great agility. In addition to a library adjoining his chamber, he had a boudoir of which he thought a great deal, a gallant and elegant retreat, with magnificent hangings of straw, with a pattern of flowers and fleurs-de-lys made on the galleys of Louis XIV. and ordered of his convicts by M. de Vivonne for his mistress. M. Gillenormand had inherited it from a grim maternal great-aunt, who had died a centenarian. He had had two wives. His manners were something between those of the courtier, which he had never been, and the lawyer, which he might have been. He was gay, and caressing when he had a mind. In his youth he had been one of those men who are always deceived by their wives and never by their mistresses, because they are, at the same time, the most sullen of husbands and the most charming of lovers in existence. He was a connoisseur of painting. He had in his chamber a marvellous portrait of no one knows whom, painted by Jordaens, executed with great dashes of the brush, with millions of details, in a confused and hap-hazard manner. M. Gillenormand’s attire was not the habit of Louis XIV. nor yet that of Louis XVI.; it was that of the Incroyables of the Directory. He had thought himself young up to that period and had followed the fashions. His coat was of light-weight cloth with voluminous revers, a long swallow-tail and large steel buttons. With this he wore knee-breeches and buckle shoes. He always thrust his hands into his fobs. He said authoritatively: “The French Revolution is a heap of blackguards.”

The answer may surprise you.

———————————————

Photo by Rifleman 82

It will come as no shock to many that my all-time favorite musical is Les Misérables. In my mind, no musical will ever compare. I have loved this production of Victor Hugo’s classic novel from the time I sang its songs in high school concerts, danced to its passionate chords in a ballet recital after high school, and once saw it performed live twice in one week. As a teenager, I would listen to the medleys, ponder the words as the story flowed, and be moved for reasons just beyond my grasp.

I was thrilled when I learned they finally decided to make it into a proper movie (and not just an ordinary film without the music!). In the time leading up to its release, I was brought close to tears while watching the previews; my mom sent me a copy of the 25th anniversary concert which led to me standing on the couch singing with my daughter (“Do you hear the people sing, singing the song of angry men, it is the music of a people who will not be slaves again!”); and when I was finally able to see it in the theater, I was mesmerized and immediately wanted to just sit there and watch it again.

A short time before the movie was released, the Kindle version of Les Misérables was made available for no charge. I set out to read it (a silly venture with my work load and the length of the book) but did not get very far. What I did read, however, was enough to firmly affix my admiration for one particular character in the story.

Being already familiar with the general storyline of Les Mis, I started reading. I read for a few nights but never even reached the part where Jean Valjean (the main character) enters the scene.

It occurred to me as I read that Les Misérables is full of qualities one might expect to find in a true disciple of Jesus. I wondered, therefore, if Victor Hugo had been a follower of Christ. I was a bit surprised to discover that he did not appear to have a strong Christ-following faith even though he wrote on many causes that would have aligned his work with Christ’s teachings.

For those unfamiliar, the musical version of Les Misérables opens with Jean Valjean in prison for stealing food for his sister’s child who was starving. After being released on parole and branded a dangerous man, Valjean is unable to obtain work and grows more desperate and bitter.

One night a bishop takes him in, feeds him a warm meal, treats him like a welcome guest, and gives him a bed to “rest from pain and rest from wrong.” The bishop owns little, lives a simple life, and is considered an honest man by the community. The only items in his home of monetary value are some articles of silver. In desperation for his situation, Valjean takes off in the night with most of the silver. He does not get far before he is caught by the police who take him back to the bishop’s home, throw him on the ground, and inform the bishop of his actions. In a disgusted voice, the police are explaining that Valjean is claiming the bishop gave him the silver as a gift.

The bishop interrupts the policeman to say,

“That is right.”

Then turns to Valjean and sings:

“But my friend, you left so early
Surely something slipped your mind.
You forgot I gave these also.
Would you leave the best behind?”

He then gives him two candlesticks – the most valuable silver in the home – and has the police release him.

This scene speaks volumes to me and never fails to leave me choked up, convicted, and determined to live a life of radical love. It speaks to a place within where so many of us seem to struggle. Even today we can so quickly write off the poor as nothing but lazy drug addicts who would use any money we would give them to further their habits.

So we turn the other way, believing we are in the right.

The bishop in Les Misérables is my favorite character. He is my favorite character because his selfless goodness is such a rarity.

He treats a criminal like a brother.

To a man who tried to steal from him, he gives everything he owns of value.

He speaks a blessing over a man who had been crushed by the weight of a world that has not treated him justly.

While showing respect for the authorities, he sees how the world is pitted against the poor and does not dismiss it as “just the way it is” but does something about it. He does not try to change the whole world, but he treats with mercy and respect those whom he encounters.

His astounding acts of love are turning points not only for this beautiful musical, but in the life of the man Jean Valjean and the many he would go on to touch. How many of us can claim we would be satisfied with living such a selfless life while getting so little appreciation reciprocated? I pray regularly that God will shape my heart more and more in this way.

[Mild Spoiler Alert]

The bishop does not appear for very long in the musical (though he does make a more significant appearance in the novel) but his impact is unmistakeable. He does appear again at the end of the musical (in the most recently released film version, at least) when Valjean is breathing his last and preparing to to go God. The bishop helps Valjean join him in his eternal reward — which brings me to my other favorite part of this musical.

The bishop, along with others who have passed on before, sing to Valjean:

“Take my hand
And lead me to salvation
Take my love
For love is everlasting
And remember
The truth that once was spoken:”

They then sing my absolute favorite line of the entire show:

“To love another person is to see the face of God.”

This line is so beautiful to me because its simple and profound truth is so often missed by myself and many others alike. True, selfless love for another person seems to me the truest expression of the heart of God. When we love so selflessly, God is seen because we are acting as He would act, and with His Spirit we bring the reality of Him to light for a world that is desperate to see.

Might I learn to be more like that bishop.

(Interesting Fact: Colm Wilkinson, who played the bishop in the 2012 film version of Les Misérables, was the first to play Jean Valjean on Broadway!)

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What is your favorite musical and why? I’d love to hear from you! Comment below or on Twitter (@lilyandmarrow) or Facebook!

Blessings,

-Jen