Emmie, 20s, she/her Latina + Scandinavian, Christian A Collection of Myriad Interests; mostly Newsies, Les Mis, LOTR, HTTYD, Star Wars, PHM, and every animal ever :)
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Step One: Don’t think about what you will say before youbegin. Art is the contrary of nature, prudence the bane of inspiration. Breathe in the world that you may breathe out whatever is at hand, without artifice or guile.
Step Two: Don’t think about what you are saying while you are speaking. Be but a vessel, pouring forth whatever divine fire is implanted within you. If you haven’t any divine fire, be content with its poor cousin, mortal gas. Let speech and thought be one! Your hearers will say you speak nonsense – ignore them, for they are right. It is better to speak an infinite amount of nonsense than a single atom of substance. Substance is being and being is a mistake; it is matter too heavy for the lightness of voice to carry. Speak truth if you can’t help it, speak lies if they please you, speak joy, speak sadness, speak dull if you lack wits, and witty if you lack brains. Speak the four humors in turn and see if they balance out. Shame Parmenides and speak a deal of nothing, speak of love if you find you must speak of something.
Step Three: Do not, under any circumstances, think about what you have said after.
How do your knees compare to those of your friends? Is there a difference in the worth of mens' knees?
A Catalogue of Knees:
Enjolras, ??/10. Genua Incognita. Virgin knees, untouched by defiling eyes. All observations must therefore be speculative, yet we may conclude from inference that they exist, and from induction that they are fine. No man grows so tall as Enjolras nor strides so boldly without the usual joints, and not even nature is so capricious as to build a thing like Enjolras and give him wobbly knees.
Feuilly, 9/10. Exemplary knees. I have no complaint against them, save that they may be too sturdy. The rest suffer by comparison; a cloud falls over the company.
Prouvaire, 8/10. Jehan can leap from a sprawl to a sprint faster than any man I have known. His knees may appear frail, but they have earned our accolades. Do not underestimate them.
Couferayc and Bahorel, 7/10. Well-formed, I will grant you, and well-toned, but through what activity? Dancing for the one. Brawling for the other. Beware, friend Courfeyrac! Beware, friend Bahorel! Such sinful living will make its mark even on the finest of knees!
Combeferre, 5/10. Rendered entirely unremarkable by a deficit of sinful living. Dancing and brawling recommended.
Joly, 4/10. Perhaps the more charming for being almost entirely ornamental. However, he refuses tell me what substances caused the ominous and shifting series of splotches that recently appeared on them, and so I am deducting points from fear of the unknown. I only pray it is neither poisonous not contagious, and that our company of knees may survive.
Laigle, 1/10. The one point is for courage; a more cowardly pair of knees would long since have fled their host.
To know that her name was Ursule was already a great deal. But it was not very much. In three or four weeks Marius had consumed this blessing. He wanted another. He wanted to know where she lived.
Oh no
He followed ‘Ursule’.
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
But surely we can all still acknowledge that Marius' methods are Not Okay. We can explain and reason but still say But It's Wrong. You can like a character and admit they do Wrong Things sometimes, regardless of the character's or author's reasons or intent
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"Even War Veterans Can Be Happy" - a very curious chapter title.
...we should say that on one occasion, however, in the midst of his raptures, ‘his Ursule’ gave him very serious grounds for complaint.
Oh did she now
I literally never want to see the words "delicious shiver" side-by-side in a book again
All of a sudden a gust of wind . . . lifted her dress, a dress more sacred than that of Isis, almost to the height of her garter. An exquisitely shaped leg appeared. Marius saw it. He was incensed, infuriated. With a sublimely startled gesture the young girl swiftly batted down her dress, but he was nonetheless upset. True, he was alone on the path. But there might have been someone there. And what if there had been! Imagine such a thing! It was horrifying what she had just done!
IF YOU'RE GOING TO BE MAD THAT THE WIND BLEW UP HER DRESS AND YOU SAW HER LEG YOU SHOULD BE MAD AT THE WIND NOT HER?????
Alas, the poor child had done nothing. There was only one culprit, the wind. But the Bartolo that exists in Cherubino was quickening in some obscure part of him and, jealous of his own shadow, Marius was determined to be cross. . . . Marius darted a fierce and sullen look at her. The young girl stiffened, drawing herself back slightly, that movement accompanied by a raising of the eyebrows that signifies ‘Now, what’s the matter with him?’
A lot of things. Too many things. Possibly almost everything. Run for your life.
If these guys end up together and a man bumps against her or touches her hand without permission it seems Marius is likely to blame the girl for it. Yikes. Not the kind of person who should be in a relationship.
Marius’s jealousy reached its peak. ‘Perhaps he was there!’ he said to himself. ‘Perhaps he saw!’ And he felt like killing the veteran.
Ooooor he'll also want to kill the man involved for it. Blame the girl, get jealous of the man want to kill him... Yeah that's. That is the behavior of a well-adjusted person who should be in a relationship. 🙂
However fair and justifiable, Marius’s anger against ‘Ursule’ passed. He eventually forgave her, but it took a great effort. He sulked for three days.
Fair and justifiable ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh my goodness gracious grief almighty. I've said it before, I'll say it again: This guy is delusional.
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Pétrus Borel dit « le lycanthrope », né à Lyon le 29 juin 18091,2 et mort à Mostaganem (Algérie) le 17 juillet 18591, est un poète, traducteur et écrivain français.
I have to respect this Wiki article for 1) bringing up the werewolf thing right off the bat, and 2) being in present tense, which has terrifying implications about Borel’s longevity.
Project Hail Mary is in part about cowardice and inexorability and the philosophical quandary of whether or not the ends justify the means. In order to understand this, we have to understand both the character Eva Stratt and Ryland Grace, as well as their relationship. In embarking on this question, we must also account for the perspective in which the book is written.
The book is written from Ryland's perspective, and that shapes the narrative by disregarding fundamental truths that lie outside of Ryland's opinion and personal reality. By his account, Ryland is a normal middle school science teacher, albeit with a doctorate in molecular biology he rarely uses.
While this is true, Ryland is also set up to be an extraordinary individual. He is a leading expert in his field. He becomes the lead researcher on humanity's most important project after making the ultimate discovery. He becomes so woven into the very fiber of the project that he can no longer be removed.
When the story arrives at the big, sacrificial ask, which is typically the point in most stories where the unwitting hero would accept his fate for the good of the people, Ryland says no. What normal, sane person would want to strap themselves to a rocket and be shot into space, with little to no training, and a conclusion of death by their hand or some other tragedy? We empathize. We understand. And yet.
Ryland was never normal. By his own standards, sure, but not to anyone else in the book, least of all Stratt.
Let’s look at his counterpart. Eva Stratt is a ruthless, effective leader with a morally dubious code only defined by preventing humankind from extinction. She was placed in this position by the powers that be, due to her ability to get results. She is, by all definitions, not a coward. She does not fear the choices she knows she has to make and does not avert her gaze. She goes to court. She paves the Sahara. She watches as a nuclear bomb blows up the arctic shelf. The debate of whether or not these choices were 'correct' aside, they were choices she made because no one else would. No one wanted to shoulder the responsibility or the blame.
This is a story told through Ryland's perspective. It is all the more satisfying when who Ryland believes himself to be is at odds with who everyone else believes him to be. Ryland is scared. His trust is betrayed. He has been put in an impossible situation and everyone is confused and disappointed that he is not willing to rise to the occasion. Ryland has told the audience, with unwavering certainty, throughout every flashback that he is replaceable and worthless only to be utterly confused by why people don't agree with him.
Ryland relies on the safe guard, the guise, of being a regular, normal man only when it suits him. He leans into normalcy to protect himself. He downplays his own importance throughout the entirety of the book in the hopes that it will be enough to save him from amounting to anything great that could be knocked down in the future by failure. When Eva Stratt lays bare all his truths as she has come to know them, it is cruel but true. Eva never flinches and she never lies.
The story is asking us to consider the cowardly person a hero and the person who does not flinch in the face of difficult, horrific choices as a villain. Typically the reverse is true. To what extent is inexorability favorable? To what extent is cowardice necessary? Cowardice is an integral part to the story and ensures that the emotional beats of it work. Without Ryland's tendency to flinch and flee, we would not feel the impact of Eva's choices. He is quick to pass judgement on her character, often describing it in ways that alienate her own humanity, as are we, because the book is his inner monologue.
When she sends Ryland to his cell where he is to remain until the ship's launch, she avoids him for four days. She looks away. That is not a person unaffected by their choices. Ryland even comments on that being the longest time they've been apart since the start of the project. She was hoping he'd rise to the occasion so he would not have to be at the receiving end of a choice she did not want to have to make, but he does not. To her, she sees a man who is fundamentally good and capable of the job. A man that she hoped would help her shoulder the enormity of her responsibility after standing by her side for years. Being forced to go on this mission against his will was horrific, and there is no excuse for doing that to another human being. We empathize. We understand.
And yet.
Eva saw who he was before he did. What defined him as a person? Who was he willing to die for? To fight for? Even as the external audience, it seemed he did not know the answer to those questions even before his memory and life were taken from him. Eva made that choice for him. In fact, it was made by the person that made the same kinds of choices in some form or another over and over throughout the entirety of the book. The logical choice, the choice supported by all evidence presented to her, was that Ryland was the best candidate for the job. The difference is that this choice is up close and personal. It is because of our empathy we do not want Ryland to be sent to his death, but Eva Stratt cannot afford to act on empathy.
Without cowardice haunting his own thoughts, we as the audience would not feel the impact of his own choices further down the line. Ryland's heroic moments stagger throughout the present day story, but are cemented by the end of the book. Ryland's 'hero moment', the moment, comes when he chooses to save Rocky. It is more impactful than the prior, similar choice, because we have seen this relationship develop in a meaningful way, and we have seen who Ryland is and the choices he makes when he is unburdened by past failures of who he once was.
A good man, as Eva Stratt knowingly said. She was never a liar.
Liking a character and empathizing with their situation does not suddenly absolve them of all the ways other characters in the book, including Ryland himself, view him. Nor does it disregard the context provided in the book that outlines how fear and low expectations have guided his choices throughout his life. He was a coward. Anyone in his situation would be a coward. The beauty of the story is that the importance of the life Ryland builds after he is disgraced from the academic community (the life he refuses to return to) is the life that ends up saving him.
To deny Ryland cowardice and to ignore Eva's burden is to flatten both of their characters, allowing no room for complex exploration of what it means to be a human struggling to do what is necessary in the face of right and wrong. To explore identity when juxtaposed by navigating a nonconsensual situation.
The story ignores the idea that bravery is the only foil to cowardice. It ignores the idea that bravery is fundamentally good and right, and cowardice is weak and wrong. Ryland Grace being a coward allows the narrative to extend grace toward him. He is rewarded for his meaningful and well built bravery with a long life, and a relationship that defines his very existence. Eva Stratt saves the world, despite the irreparable damage she does to it, and all the judgment the world passes on to her in the process. These characters only work because they operate in contrast to one another, and draw attention to the way cowardice and bravery bleed into one another throughout the entirety of the story.
"Fortunes of the Letter U When a Subject of Conjecture"
Interesting title
Solitariness, detachment from everything, pride, independence, a feeling for nature, having no humdrum job to do, an introspective life, secret struggles with chastity, open-hearted rapture before the whole of creation, had prepared Marius for this possession called passion.
It... It did?????
Chat does being a prideful loner who likes nature and refuses to accept help from anyone prepare you for the passions of romance or is Hugo being a gaslighter again
His devotion to his father had gradually become a religion, and like all religions it had retreated into the hinterland of his soul.
Like all— I don't think that's how it works?? I mean, I can't speak for myself but like. I know some religious folk. Don't seem retreated to me.
Something was needed in the forefront. Love came along.
Wait is it the love that pushed back the devotion to his father, or did that already happen and then the love replaced it
If the former, I wish he had let something else push it back 😒
If the latter, maybe if this girl hadn't been around, the thing that replaced the empty spot in the forefront could have been his friends and their cause instead 😒
Another quip from Courfeyrac <3 I think it's really funny that Courfeyrac knows his schedule at this point
If nothing could detain Marius from going to the Luxembourg Gardens at "the appointed hour", and Courfeyrac knows this, I am choosing to believe that they have literally been hanging out and Marius has just abruptly left for that reason.
Yet, acting on both the instinctive timidity and the instinctive caution of a lover, he did not walk past it any more. He thought it advisable not to attract ‘her father’s attention’. With a downright Machiavellianism he contrived to stand behind trees and behind the pedestals of statues so as to be seen as much as possible by the girl and as little as possible by the old gentleman.
Okay well now you're just making yourself out to look even creepier.
Sometimes he would remain motionless for whole half-hours at a stretch . . . seeking out the beautiful girl, and she for her part with a vague smile turned her lovely profile towards him. She could not have been any more calm and natural as she chatted with the white-haired man, while her virginal and passionate gaze dwelt dreamily on Marius. . . . With her lips she responded to one, and with her eyes to the other.
Pressing every button to doubt. He's delusional. If she even is looking at him it's probably because she's trying to figure out what the heck this weirdo is doing
It is more than likely, however, that Monsieur Leblanc finally noticed something, for often when Marius arrived he stood up and began to walk about. He abandoned the place where they usually sat and adopted the bench next to the Gladiator at the other end of the path, as if to see whether Marius would follow them there. Marius did not realize, and made that mistake. The ‘father’ started to become unpredictable and no longer brought ‘his daughter’ every day. Sometimes he came alone. Then Marius did not stay. Another mistake.
HAHAHA oh my stars he's so stupid
One evening at dusk he found a handkerchief on the bench that ‘Monsieur Leblanc and his daughter’ had just left. . . . He seized on it with rapture. This handkerchief was marked with the letters UF. Marius knew nothing about this beautiful girl – her family, her name, where she lived.
Probably for the best, or else he'd probably start pacing outside her house 😒
These two letters were the first thing about her that he had managed to come by, adorable initials on which he immediately began to build his conjectures. U was evidently her first name. ‘Ursule!’ he thought. ‘What a delightful name!’
There's the "U". A 19th century French history knower has got to tell me if that was a common or appealing name at that time or if he's just being ridiculous again (I say "again" as though he's actually stopped it at any moment. "Still being ridiculous" would be a better way to word it.)
He kissed the handkerchief, breathed in its scent, placed it during the day on his heart, on his flesh, and at night fell asleep with it at his lips.
‘I can smell her entire being in it!’ he exclaimed.
This handkerchief belonged to the old gentleman, who had simply dropped it from his pocket.
Oh my good grief just give him a whole clown suit a this point HAHAHA ohhhhhhhhh he's so lame he's so stupid he's a total loon he's an absolute ninny he is EMBARRASSING TO READ ABOUT
In the days that followed this lucky find, Marius never appeared in the Luxembourg Gardens without the handkerchief, kissing it and pressing it to his heart. The lovely child was completely baffled, and conveyed this to him by the discreetest of signs.
‘What modesty!’ said Marius.
It got worse
How did he manage to make it worse
I'm going to bash my head into the nearest surface
You know what I change my mind that girl has definitely noticed him, there's no way she hasn't
And she's probably going what the heck is that guy doing with my father's handkerchief
Is he hitting on my dad???? Is he trying to seduce my father???????? Yeah no wonder she's baffled. I'm curious what the discreetest of signs is.
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Holding onto hope we'll get more Courfeyrac funnies. Let's go.
First paragraph in and it's already like
holding in his hand an open book, not having turned a page for the last two hours.
Relatable, but NOT for the reasons he's struggling, that's for sure.
The girl walked by and as she passed she looked at him. She looked steadily at him with a pensive sweetness that thrilled Marius from head to foot. It was as if she were reproaching him for not having come to her in such a long time, and saying to him, ‘I’ve come to you.’
He felt as if he were floating in the blue heavens. At the same time he was horribly upset because there was dust on his boots.
He felt sure she had also looked at his boots.
HAHAHA
Oh boy, like a madman indeed
COURFEYRAC MENTION. SAVE US.
Marius ate like a horse.
Oh no I'm being haunted by horses again.
Desperate to know what Courfeyrac is thinking as Marius is dragging him to dinner and a show.
When they came out of the theatre he refused to look at a hat-shop girl’s garter as she stepped over a gutter, and Courfeyrac came close to horrifying him by saying, ‘I’d gladly add that woman to my collection.’
🧍
Courfeyrac I trusted you
ate even more than on the previous evening. He was very thoughtful and very cheerful. He seemed to take every opportunity to burst out laughing. He warmly hugged some provincial nobody who was introduced to him.
He's gone insane. I am afraid.
Marius interrupted the discussion to exclaim, ‘All the same it’s very gratifying to have the Legion of Honour cross!’
‘That’s odd!’ Courfeyrac whispered to Jean Prouvaire.
‘No,’ replied Prouvaire, ‘that’s serious.’
It was indeed serious.
Prouvaire, the guy who loves love or whatever his intro said, out here with sage knowledge. Even he knows love is dangerous.
Marius you are embarrassing.
One look had achieved all this. When explosives have been laid in the mine, when the fire is ready to be lit, nothing is simpler. A look is a kindling spark.
Genuinely
I cannot comprehend
How on earth could you fall in love with somebody because you met eyes like once. Twice. Whatever. The whole love at first sight thing has never made sense to me. Like I guess theoretically I could understand finding somebody attractive at first sight? Theoretically??? But there's no way you can actually fall in love with somebody when you don't even know them as a person. What are you even falling in love with???? You're falling in physical attraction with them or something. I don't think a single thing in the universe could convince me that it's actual love and not just getting swept up and being physically attracted to a person which is also bizarre to me but like. Whatever, I can... at least vaguely comprehend that. I see a really good looking new dessert and it's like yeah okay I want that. But I don't know what it tastes like, I don't know if I'll actually like it, I can't say I love it because I've never had it. I can say it looks appealing and that's it. Accept at least with desserts you can look at it and guess some ingredients and go What I know I like chocolate and it looks like it's made of chocolate so I'll probably like it, but with a person you literally cannot just like figure out who they are at their core by glancing with them!
A woman’s look is like certain seemingly harmless yet powerful mechanisms. You pass by them every day without any fuss or bother, all unawares. A time comes when you even forget they are there. You come and go, let your mind wander, talk, laugh. Suddenly you feel caught. There is no escape. The mechanism holds you fast, the look has captured you. It has captured you, never mind how or in what way, by some vagrant part of your mind, during some momentary distraction. You are doomed. You will be entirely swallowed up. A concatenation of mysterious forces takes over. You struggle in vain. No one can help you now. You are going to pass through the mesh, from cog to cog, agony to agony, torture to torture, you, your mind, your fortune, your future, your soul. And depending on whether you are in the power of a vicious creature or of a noble heart, you will not emerge from this terrifying machine without being disfigured – by shame – or transfigured – by passion.
Me 🤝 Enjolras 🤝 Mabeuf 🤝 Mére Plutarque 🤝 multiple people reading this book with me
blakekathryn
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