Delayed post from months ago. I read Les Mis back in December. I don't have a great desire to see the movie.
A Pinterest pin had this note: "Les Mis Unabridged–Put on you big girl pants and read it."
I did thanks, and all the extra "history" sections are mostly NOT facts but rather absurdly romantic interpretations. That. Is. Not. History.
Also, I really don't need to know Mr. Hugo that the sewage should have been used as fertilizer and that it would take care of disease.
Many abridgments are sacrilege; Les Mis abridged is salvation.
If Victor Hugo had spent all the emotion and sweat he put in his philosophizing and lecturing, the story would have been amazing literature.
As it is, it needs a misinterpreted musical to make it great.
There was no gem in all that muck; there was a promising phantom perfume of a story.
Also, I HATE hearing sympathy for Eponine. Read the book and you will see the REAL Eponine and why I have no sympathy.
Labels: Literature Reviews