Eponine

When I read an introduction to an abridged version of The Princess Bride, I wondered whether it would be worth writing an abridged version of Hunchback of Notre Dame - it is a beautiful story, but sometimes Hugo can really go on, spending whole chapters on describing 14th century Paris, the churches that are no longer there in 16th century Paris, etc.

I wanted to get Les Miserables out of the way, in particular so that I would read it before seeing the stage-show, or a movie of the stage-show - it is very long, of course. And, of course, after a few chapters Hugo ventures to write "and now it might be appropriate to describe the residence of Myriel Digne" - of course it might be appropriate - why not describe all the residences in Digne, be that as it may, only a small component of the (very long) story? However, there is something endearing about the way Hugo writes. He does like to go into heavy detail, but it is nice reading and I do believe that it enhances the narrative experience. I'm not sure whether a complete edition is available in Australia, my old edition still required me to refer to the appendix for certain chapters (which I'm happy to say I did) but I think there's still some text missing.

An important theme of the book is providence - perhaps tying in with Hugo's desire to reconcile God with history, however it seems all very well that much of the story relies on coincidences. Indeed, in literature, coincidences often hold the story together and I guess philosophically that's why we might like them so much - bridging that gap between life and art.

What I found most interesting in this book, however, was the plight of Eponine - although what I think of her is part of a wider issue. The ultimate "good" in the story, as hailed by Hugo, is the love between Marius and Cosette - the dullest characters therein. Marius is an impetuous teenager (or at least acts like one), overreacting to everything and quite certain that every impulse he has must be addressed as a matter of the highest importance. Cosette, meanwhile, is boring, quite oblivious, and loved Marius so much after seeing him in the park that she completely forgot about him when considering marriage to a passing handsome stranger. So Jean Valjean, a living dedication to God, a triumph of goodwill and the human spirit, has escaped injustice against all odds - just so that he can rescue Cosette, and see her get married to a wanker - which makes him happy even when they decide to disown him on a miscommunication.

A side-character to this, the main plot, is Eponine. Whereas Cosette has grown up being sheltered and protected by Valjean in every sense, Eponine has spent a great amount of time coming to terms with who she is, and how best she should negotiate the world - given that her family sees her as a slave, men are happy to sleep with her but not protect her, and she is responsible for a brother disowned by the family. She becomes infatuated with Marius, his modest life, and how she sees that might change her predicament. She saves his life a number of times, even protecting Cosette, and helping Marius find her, only to be forgotten by him. She, once again, represents an ultimate in human sacrifice (similar to Valjean, and interestingly they both have somewhat shady morals outside these noble endeavours) - and she is not given a thought by Marius, preoccupied as he is with the uninteresting Cosette.

It's a common love-triangle story these days, however obviously it is expressed quite nicely by Hugo. I found myself really wanting to know much more about Eponine - and i guess hoping that it Hugo might see it as a good idea to leave her happy in the end, maybe find her a man who could punch Marius in the stomach at some point... i'm not sure how she might be portrayed in the musical though.

After the Quake

There's always something unidentifiably brilliant about Murakami short stories. I'm either imposing my own good opinion on them, or I just really like the atmosphere (japanese atmosphere?), or he really does create something special each time. It could be that there is something lost in translation that leaves me confused and thoughtful... as is probably the case with Manga films that I like ("I don't get it.. but I like it!"). The unidentifiable plays a particularly important role in these stories however.

When Murakami was in self-exile, two very important events to the Japanese collective unconscious occurred: the Kobe earthquake, and the sarin gas attacks on the underground. He returned to write about each of these.

Each of the stories in After the Quake takes is only indirectly related to the Quake itself. Each of the characters is affected, as if by the aftershocks, in unpredictable ways. In one story, a woman mesmerized by the continual footage decides that she must leave her husband - she knew no-one in the quake. In a more ridiculous story, a giant frog needs a debt collector's help to fight a giant earthworm that is going to cause another quake. In each of the stories, the quake stirs something intangible, causing the characters to reconsider their lives. As usual, Murakami is able to evoke quite beautiful friendships and chance meetings (sex included of course), even in these short stories - perhaps this is because he knows the short story is probably best when things are suggested rather than shown.