You Have Strength of a Different Kind

Oh wow Favourite's mother sucks B/

She loved Tholomyès. A conquest for him, for her the love of her life.

I can already see where this is going and I already hate this guy for it. Now I better understand where Courfeyrac diverges and I haven't even reached what this scoundrel does.

One day Tholomyès took the other three aside, made sure he had their full attention and said, ‘Fantine, Dahlia, Zéphine and Favourite have been asking us for nearly a year to give them a surprise. We’ve made a solemn promise to do so. . . . At the same time our parents keep writing to us. Attacked on both sides. I think the time has come. Let’s talk.’ At this point Tholomyès lowered his voice and mysteriously described something so amusing that a huge enthusiastic guffaw emerged simultaneously from the mouths of all four of them and Blachevelle cried, ‘That’s a great idea!’

I don't know what the plan is but I already don't like it. Just based on the description given to Tholomyès, I don't trust his plans. (On that note, I didn't expect him to be depicted as so ugly HAHA)

1.3.3

Oh, no matter who you may be, don’t you remember? Have you walked through the bushes, holding aside the branches for the pretty face following behind you?

Oh get out of here with this "No matter who you may be" type nonsense again 🙄

Blondeau mention 🫵 may he rest in peace

1.3.4

Okay, I am becoming increasingly baffled by the fact that Tholomyès is even with Fantine. He seems Like the sort that would prefer to have a lady who is fine with him doing whatever the heck he wants with her, but Fantine won't even get on the swing or accept kisses throughout the day like the other girls.

Maybe it comes back around to the conquest thing. She's pretty and if he can say that he was the one who..... (face of disgust) conquered her... It's like some kind of bragging right. "Yeah I managed to get with the chaste Fantine, that's how suave and impressive I am" kind of mentality. He wants the challenge? Ugh.

"on Sundays tiredness has the day off" oh if only

1.3.5

Horse mention 😔

1.3.6

This prompted Blachevelle to ask, ‘What would you do, Favourite, if I stopped loving you?’ ‘What would I do!’ cried Favourite. ‘Oh, don’t say that even as a joke! If you stopped loving me, I’d come after you, I’d scratch and claw you, I’d throw water over you, I’d have you arrested.’ Blachevelle smiled with the voluptuous self-conceit of a man whose vanity is flattered. . . . As she ate, Dahlia said quietly to Favourite amid the uproar, ‘So you really worship your Blachevelle, do you?’ ‘I detest him,’ replied Favourite in a similar undertone, picking up her fork again. ‘He’s stingy. It’s the lad who lives opposite me I love.

HAHA DANG

All the same, I tell Blachevelle I adore him. What a liar I am! Eh? What a liar!’ Favourite paused, then went on, ‘You see, Dahlia, I feel miserable. It’s done nothing but rain all summer, the wind’s always blowing, it gets on my nerves, Blachevelle’s very tight-fisted, there are hardly any peas in the market, you don’t know what to eat. I’m down in the dumps, as the English say, butter’s so expensive, and look, here we are eating in a room with a bed in it. It’s disgusting! It makes me fed up with life.’

... Dang.

Kiss me, Fantine!’ He got the wrong girl, and kissed Favourite.

I cannot stand this man I cannot stand this man I cannot stand this man I cannot stand this man

1.3.8

Horse mention 🫵 "Death of a Horse" maybe this is the horse that haunts me

Fantine, I plead with you to leave this man behind. Why are you in love with him when he talks about other women all the time.

Why.... Why do I feel like these guys all just left. Like. Permanently. "Here's the surprise! It's a disappearing act."

1.3.9

Can everyone stop dragging Fantine for being naive please, guys, c'mon. I don't think they actually like her that much, with how they keep making jokes at her expense.

The waiter replied, ‘It’s a note those gentlemen left for you ladies.’ ‘Why didn’t you bring it straight away?’ ‘Because,’ said the waiter, ‘the gentlemen told me not to deliver it to you ladies before an hour had gone by.’

Oh boy

O loving mistresses! We would have you know that we have parents. Parents are not something you are very familiar with. In the civil code for respectable children, they are called fathers and mothers.

I've had it up to (my hand raises up into the sun) here with these guys

Now, these parents are complaining, these old folk are appealing to us, these good men and women are calling us prodigal sons, they want us to come home, and are offering to kill calves for us. Being dutiful, we are obeying them. By the time you read this, five spirited horses will be taking us back to our papas and mamas. We are decamping, as Bossuet puts it. We are leaving. We have left. We are fleeing in the arms of Laffitte and on the wings of Caillard. The Toulouse stage-coach wrests us from the abyss, and the abyss is you, O our beautiful darlings! We are returning to order, to duty, to society, at a brisk pace, at the speed of eight miles an hour. It is important for the country that like everyone else we should be prefects, family men, rural police officers and state councillors. Respect us. We are sacrificing ourselves. Lament us briefly and replace us rapidly. If this letter distresses you, tear it to pieces. Farewell. For nearly two years we have made you happy. Do not hold it against us. Signed: Blachevelle. Fameuil. Listolier. Félix Tholomyès. P.S. The meal is paid for.

This is worse than breaking up with someone over a text. And since it was Tholomyès idea specifically, the man who is so into Spanish—

Favourite was the first to break the silence. ‘Well, anyway,’ she exclaimed, ‘it’s a good joke!’

Guys... no..........

Fantine laughed with them. An hour later, back in her room, she wept. He was, as we said, her first love – she had given herself to this Tholomyès as to a husband. And the poor girl had a child.

From that moment on, Marius added to his happiness of seeing her at the Luxembourg the happiness of following her home. His hunger increased. He knew her name, her first name at least, a lovely name, a truly feminine name. He knew where she lived. He wanted to know who she was. One evening after he had followed them home and seen them disappear through the carriage gateway he went in after them and said pluckily to the porter, ‘Was that the gentleman on the first floor that just came in?’ ‘No,’ replied the porter. ‘That was the gentleman on the third floor.’ Another advance made. This success emboldened Marius. ‘At the front?’ he asked. ‘Good lord!’ said the porter. ‘The house doesn’t go back any further, it all faces the street.’ ‘And what does the gentleman do for a living?’ Marius went on. ‘He’s a man of independent means, monsieur. A very kind man, and though not rich he’s good to the poor.’ ‘What’s his name?’ resumed Marius. The porter looked up and said, ‘Is monsieur a police spy?’

Thank you for quitting while you were behind, porter. I suppose back then there was not the same understanding of caution when a stranger comes around asking questions about a specific person, but at least he caught on eventually that this was Weird.

On arriving at the carriage entrance Monsieur Leblanc let his daughter go on ahead of him, then before stepping through himself he stopped, turned, and stared intently at Marius.

GET HIM. SCARE HIM OFF. PLEASE. I AM CONCERNED ABOUT THE SAFETY OF YOUR DAUGHTER. AND YOU FOR THAT MATTER.

The next day they did not come to the Luxembourg. Marius waited in vain all day long. At nightfall he went to Rue de l’Ouest and saw light shining from the third-floor windows. He walked about below those windows until the light went out. The next day, no one at the gardens. Marius waited all day, then went to do his evening stint beneath the windows.

He's literally not learning. He's literally not connecting any dots. The dots didn't even enter his brain.

On the eighth day, when he arrived beneath the windows there was no light in them.

I hope they moved. Heck, I hope they moved out of the country.

Marius knocked at the carriage entrance, went in, and said to the porter, ‘The gentleman on the third floor?’ ‘Moved out,’ replied the porter. Marius reeled and said weakly, ‘How long ago?’ ‘Yesterday.’ ‘Where’s he living now?’ ‘I’ve no idea.’ ‘So he didn’t leave his new address?’ ‘No.’ And looking up, the porter recognized Marius. ‘Well, well!’ he said. ‘It’s you again! So you really are a police sleuth then?’

He might be worse than a police sleuth actually.

I feel obliged to leave a copy of some messages I sent on Discord two days ago regarding Marius' behavior, because they seem quite apt now:

He already knows their garden schedule typically, but of course it is only downhill from here. So you know. Eventually he'll probably start following them around when they go, not even knowing where his feet take him, standing behind light poles that he's extremely visible from when they glance back. He'll spawn in right outside their house and start kissing the door. Hiding behind things to stare at people are how restraining orders begin, you know Except those probably don't exist yet The obsession over a handkerchief is another point against him. I am worried for her If he's capable of thinking the birds are laughing at him, that she's going "you're taking too long! I will come to you!" and being all modest about him making out with "her" handkerchief in front of her, well. I'm sure he's capable of him interpreting her blinking when dust flies into her eyes as a sign that she's seducing him, to which he will steal her away. He is delusional. We are five fragile steps away from that delusion being legitimately harmful*. He is SUCH an extreme guy that I genuinely would not put it past him to advance in creepy behavior, and for it to be painted as romantic. Heck, you know how much media today still injects the idea of a domineering, forceful guy as being the ideal hottie? Yeah, let's trap a girl against a wall and threaten her to behave. Let's make her feel scared. That's exactly how a relationship should be. And this is MODERN times, when people should know better (but you know, how good and useful and wonderful it is to brainwash ladies into thinking toxic behavior is a green flag, but that's another matter entirely) Point is, in an era like this, I don't doubt there's a high chance of him being More Horrible and that being painted as Charming and Good. What he's doing right now would already be raising a million alarm bells for a lady who values her safety and knows what to watch for. This is surely just the start. Idk this girl, really, but I wanna tell her and her dad to get the heck out of France before things get worse. *"Legitimately harmful" as in it permanently affecting her life by putting her in danger or "ruining" her as a woman as was a whole big deal back in ye old day (and I assume was similar in France). This kind of behavior, at least today, could already be legitimately harmful just by making a girl feel scared and uncomfortable. Could make her scared to leave the house for goodness sake. Granted, this is a different era, but even so. Don't want someone thinking I don't consider this harmful, at the very least, in today's time.

Though honestly even if it was normal to this time, which I have since confirmed it is Not, I don't like it all the same. It's still harmful just in the fact that it is a thing, even if people were made to believe it was usual behavior (being made to believe it's okay or whatever is its own problem). Yes yes it's painted as comedic bumbling stupidity but like. Ugh. Ughhhhhhhh.

Can't believe people were defending his behavior, even more so now that I know they knew THIS escalated creepy behavior was in the the near future

Like okay, defend the way Hugo is trying to portray it, sure, explain Hugo's intent and whatnot, okay, that's one thing