I’ve
been picking up where I left off in Victor Hugo’s Les Misérables, and there are so many notable quotes I come across
I could post one of these every night.
But I wanted to post at least post one.
I’m in Volume III, titled, Marius,
where the author traces the life of Marius from his childhood to where he meets
Cosette. Here, he has been turned out of
his house by his grandfather over political disputes, and Marius struggles to
live on a small income. Hugo then rhapsodizes
on youth and poverty.
Poverty in youth, when it succeeds, has this
magnificent property about it, that it turns the whole will towards effort, and
the whole soul towards aspiration. Poverty instantly lays material life bare
and renders it hideous; hence inexpressible bounds towards the ideal life. The
wealthy young man has a hundred coarse and brilliant distractions, horse races,
hunting, dogs, tobacco, gaming, good repasts, and all the rest of it;
occupations for the baser side of the soul, at the expense of the loftier and
more delicate sides. The poor young man wins his bread with difficulty; he
eats; when he has eaten, he has nothing more but meditation. He goes to the
spectacles which God furnishes gratis; he gazes at the sky, space, the stars,
flowers, children, the humanity among which he is suffering, the creation amid
which he beams. He gazes so much on humanity that he perceives its soul, he
gazes upon creation to such an extent that he beholds God. He dreams, he feels
himself great; he dreams on, and feels himself tender. From the egotism of the
man who suffers he passes to the compassion of the man who meditates. An
admirable sentiment breaks forth in him, forgetfulness of self and pity for
all. As he thinks of the innumerable enjoyments which nature offers, gives, and
lavishes to souls which stand open, and refuses to souls that are closed, he
comes to pity, he the millionnaire of the mind, the millionnaire of money. All
hatred departs from his heart, in proportion as light penetrates his spirit.
And is he unhappy? No. The misery of a young man is never miserable. The first
young lad who comes to hand, however poor he may be, with his strength, his
health, his rapid walk, his brilliant eyes, his warmly circulating blood, his
black hair, his red lips, his white teeth, his pure breath, will always arouse
the envy of an aged emperor. And then, every morning, he sets himself afresh to
the task of earning his bread; and while his hands earn his bread, his dorsal
column gains pride, his brain gathers ideas. His task finished, he returns to
ineffable ecstasies, to contemplation, to joys; he beholds his feet set in
afflictions, in obstacles, on the pavement, in the nettles, sometimes in the
mire; his head in the light. He is firm serene, gentle, peaceful, attentive,
serious, content with little, kindly; and he thanks God for having bestowed on him
those two forms of riches which many a rich man lacks: work, which makes him
free; and thought, which makes him dignified.
(Vol III, Book 5, Chapter III)
I
will say that’s great quote, though overly romanticized. I’ve seen where poverty makes young men cruel
and greedy, so I can’t vouch for the universality of Hugo’s vision. Still one can see by his vows of poverty
the mendicant religious in that quote. Poverty can bring you closer to God.
