Yellow

you can read it, tenlittlebullets translated it into English :)

I’m so glad somebody asked this, because the answer is: when they finally ran out of ammunition, Charles Jeanne rounded up everyone who was still standing, went, “look, if we’re going to die, we might as well die fighting,” and led a suicidal ten-man charge against an entire flippin’ infantry column, armed with nothing but bayonets. The first few ranks of soldiers were so unprepared for such a spectacularly insane attack that they were too surprised to shoot. They crossed bayonets and tried to hold the insurgents off in hand-to-hand combat, but Jeanne’s swordsmanship was apparently aces, because he held off a bunch of them at once and covered his friends as they tried to breach the ranks. And once they were in, nobody could shoot them for fear of taking out their own guys.

So the last stand that the insurgents had intended as a noble suicide ended in them breaking through the ranks entirely and winding up in the next street over, outside the combat zone, going “well shit, what do we do now?” (I’m guessing the infantry column wasn’t very deep; central Paris at that point was a rabbit warren of narrow twisty streets, and assembling troops en masse for an organized attack was a logistical nightmare.) Unlike the National Guard, the army weren’t total chumps and got themselves turned around to give chase and start shooting once they weren’t at risk of friendly fire any longer… and that’s when all the civilians holed up in their houses went “no way, you’re not getting your hands on these crazy bastards” and started hurling furniture and crockery down on the soldiers’ heads. Jeanne was understandably distracted at the time, but afterwards somebody informed him that the barrage of unlikely projectiles included a piano. A piano. That is some straight-up Looney Tunes slapstick right there. No wonder Hugo went for the heroic death scene instead; if he’d stuck to real life, he probably would’ve gotten complaints that he’d wrecked his readers’ suspension of disbelief.

Anyway, someone opened an alley gate for them to shelter in and take stock of the casualties—most of them survived(!!!), but a few were pretty nastily wounded. Their host then had to lock Charles Jeanne in to keep him from charging right back out and taking on the whole goddamn army singlehanded. He probably would’ve broken down the door if the poor man hadn’t pointed out that going back out would give away his wounded comrades’ hiding place and the identities of the people sheltering them. They sat there listening to the gunfire gradually slow and go silent, and then in the middle of the night the ones who could still walk were allowed to slip away one by one at long intervals from each other. Charles Jeanne went straight home, slept like the dead for a few hours, was woken up at five in the morning with a warning that he’d been denounced and the building was surrounded, and then slipped out in disguise and managed to evade the police for four months before a former comrade ratted him out and he was arrested.

This is where his lengthy explanations about the differences between uprisings and insurrections from 4.10.2 become relevant. He genuinely believed that everything that was going on in February 1848, before the abdication of Louise Philippe was revolution (insurrection), and what followed in June was uprising against the Republic. It was “a revolt of the people against itself.”  

The problem was: people had legitimate causes to rebel. “Once settled in the Assembly, Hugo was immediately confronted by the question of the National Workshops. Like many on both the right and the left, he believed the Workshops were a disaster. They produced nothing and were “an enormous waste of resources”… he urged that they be closed… He apparently believed that by voting to dissolve the National Workshops, he was not voting to shelve the question of unemployment. He was wrong.” Moreover, when workers erected the barricades and the confrontation began, “Hugo seems to have convinced himself that the best way to limit bloodshed was to defeat the insurrection rapidly. For the next three days he became a tiger, “haranguing insurgents, storming barricades, taking prisoners, and somehow remaining alive.”

According to an account from a member of the National Guard, Hugo was acting suicidally: “This man... was M. Victor Hugo, a representative for Paris. He was unarmed and nonetheless he led us; and while we took cover behind houses, he alone kept to the middle of the street. Twice I tugged at his sleeve, telling him: “You’ll get yourself killed!” “That is why I am here.”” But this was because he believed that he was acting under divine protection.

During these days, Hugo was not able to contact his wife and his mistress. He heard rumours that his house was burnt down, but finally found out that it was not true: “When he finally got back to the Place des Vôsges, he found fourteen bullet holes around carriage entrance, but everything in the house was intact: rugs, furniture, silverware, wall hangings, ancient swords and muskets, and above all his manuscripts. A leader of the insurgents, a school teacher and a reader of Hugo, had even led tours of the house for other insurgents.” The last detail is heartbreaking.

In this chapter, Hugo conveys his point of view on the events of June 1848, infusing them with symbolic images of two barricades: both quite eerie and ominous. He is exploiting his talent of horror writer again: “The Saint-Antoine barricade was the tumult of thunders; the barricade of the Temple was silence. The difference between these two redoubts was the difference between the formidable and the sinister. One seemed a maw; the other a mask.”

The sad thing is that after this chapter with its context in Hugo’s biography, it is hard to read his depiction of other barricades from other time without thinking of him as a hypocrite. This is Hugo — an embodiment of controversy.

Siege of the barricade during the June days of 1848:

 Javert represents authority, which is often cruel and unjust. Enjolras represents actual justice, social justice, he represents the laws of conscience/love that are superior to the flawed and bigoted laws of mankind (which is why he’s literally compared to Themis, the goddess of justice.)  Lots of adaptations write Javert as someone who cares about making society better and protecting the innocent, but he isn’t and he doesn’t??? Javert cares about authority. His entire personality is built on “respect for authority and hatred of rebellion.”  Javert doesn’t care about “having compassion or making tough decisions to protect people;” he cares about submitting to authority at all times. The government is right because it is the government. Any crime or rebellion is wrong because it is against the government. Anyone who is treated badly by the government deserves to be treated badly, because authority is always right. Rich people are always morally superior to poor people, and the outcasts of society deserve to be beaten down because they are outcasts – and the thing that’s tragic about his horrible violent mentality is that he is a part of the same class of outcasts he’s beating down, and doesn’t value the lives of other people because he doesn’t value his own.  If mercy is kindness you don’t deserve, while justice is the treatment you do deserve– then Javert isn’t just merciless, he’s unjust.

He can’t be a symbol of justice because all he cares about is blindly obeying authority and calling that “justice.” Sending Valjean to prison for stealing a loaf of bread and a coin isn’t just merciless, it’s unjust. Tormenting Fantine until her death for acting in self-defense isn’t just merciless, it’s unjust. They didn’t deserve what he did to them, and the only reason he can believe it’s right is because he canonically Refuses to Think about it– because he’s literally so Brainwashed by authority as a result of his tragic past that he believes any independent thought is a form of rebellion that must be suppressed.

Thought was something to which he was unused, and which was peculiarly painful. In thought there always exists a certain amount of internal rebellion; and it irritated him to have that within him.

Enjolras, meanwhile, actually cares about helping people and creating a better world. Enjolras cares about uplifting the people around him, he cares about giving people the help and the support that they deserve. He wants the world to be free. The goal of the rebels is to replace the monarchy, a dictatorship, with a republic where people can vote for their leaders. They want to eliminate poverty, fight for universal education, and give people the dignity they’re entitled to. 

Meanwhile Javert is a tragically brainwashed authoritarian whose only goal is to punish anyone who doesn’t keep their head low enough– including punishing himself. He’s motivated entirely by fear and hatred; the hatred of people like Valjean and Fantine, and the fear that he’ll become like them.  (Javert cares so little about protecting people that it’s a plot point multiple times that he’s so busy Punishing the perpetrator of a crime that he doesn’t talk to the victim at all. He respects authority, but he doesn’t love it, and doesn’t care about protecting people. He only cares about punishing the people who the government has told him to hate.)

I guess the thing is: adaptations are in love with the idea that Valjean represents mercy while Javert represents justice. But I feel like Enjolras is a much better counterpoint to Valjean’s philosophy than Javert. 

Valjean and Enjolras are like:

Valjean: I think that it’s important to focus on mercy above justice.

Enjolras: But we can’t have forgiveness until we’ve had accountability.  I agonize over every decision I make, but sometimes there is absolutely no way to create a better world without causing harm to the people who are currently abusing their power to hurt us. True justice can only come when the people in power are making reparations.

While Valjean and Javert are like:

Valjean: I think that it’s important to focus on mercy above justice Javert:   You THINK about things??? Even when the government hasn’t ORDERED you to think????

Valjean: uh

Javert: *rocking back and forth in the fetal position covering his ears with his hands* The government does all the thinking for us, so we don’t have to!! Anyone who has their own thoughts is a rebel who should be shot. The State says that poor people are bad and deserve to suffer! Disagreeing with the government makes you a rebel!!!!!! Having thoughts of your own makes you a rebel!  Any “kindness” that goes against the orders of the state is FALSE KINDNESS that will turn the world inside out!!!!!!! Supporting poor people against rich people, the people who are low in the world against the people who are high– that is FALSE KINDNESS!!!!!  Real justice is when you shut off your brain, accept your place, and blindly obey the government without thinking!!! 

I turn to Ares.

Thanks to Tyler Miles Lockett who allowed me to draw inspiration from his ARES piece for page 2! Look at his etsy page it's SICK

polyphemus eats his guests not because he's a cannibal — cannibalism also being a taboo that applies to humans, and he's not human — but because he doesn't follow xenia. polyphemus says to odysseus "we don't respect zeus here," but odysseus approaches polyphemus as if polyphemus is the foreigner. he expects his customs (which serve him, a conquering hero) to take precedence, even though he is the one away from home. he's been away from home for over ten years.

because to odysseus, there's not much difference between the trojans (the city he's sacked) or the cicones (a people he raided on the way home) and polyphemus, right? except that polyphemus is able to turn the tables. he is a monster, not in the sense that he is not a human being — the trojans have not been treated as human beings — but because he can insist that his law be respected in his own home.

and it's not that odysseus can't adapt. look at how differently he approaches nausicaa, or even circe. but his perspective is what we wayfind by, and all the while odysseus, at troy and during the wanderings, is himself foreign.

Authorship: Barthes, Death of the Author; Foucault, What is an Author?

Formalism: Eichenbaum, The Theory of the “Formal Method”;  Brooks, from The Well Wrought Urn: Studies in the Structure of Poetry

Structuralism: Saussure, Course in General Linguistics ; Barthes, from Mythologies

Psychoanalysis: Freud, The Interpretation of Dreams; Lacan, The Mirror Stage & The Significance of the Phallus

Ideology: Althusser, Ideology and Ideological State Apparatuses; Foucault, Truth and Power

Feminism & Queer: Sedgwick, from Between Men; Cixous, The Laugh of the Medusa; Wittig, One Is Not Born a Woman; Butler, Gender Trouble

Deconstruction: Derrida, from Of Grammatology;

Postcolonial: Fanon, from The Wretched of the Earth; Spivak, Can the Subaltern Speak?

Cultural Materialism: Adorno & Horkheimer, The Culture Industry: Enlightenment as Mass Deception; Williams, Base and Superstructure in Marxist Cultural Theory  

look at it!!! The songs are playable!! I’ve had this album bookmarked in VAIN for over 2 years, with all the songs grayed out, but now they play!! actual sounds!!

@kashuan cursed me with the knowledge that this show ever existed but it was all worth it. Totally worth it.

For an overview of the stage show with song-and-plot explanations, see: https://thedailyfandom.org/women-trojan-war-paris-a-rock-odyssey/

Recap for those not aware of this GEM of a musical: (with some spoilers for the musical past the “read more” line)

1) It’s named after Paris, Prince of Troy and Disaster Supreme. He is absolutely a disaster in this musical. And yes, this recounts the Trojan War but technically goes past the Iliad given that we see the Trojan Horse episode (courtesy of Virgil’s Aeneid, or as I like to think of it, Virgil’s fix-it fic where he fixed nothing and just filled in the gaps with stuff we either lost or things he thought made sense given the rest of the Homeric canon & tradition. I don’t know, guys, I’m deeply unqualified to discuss this. Next point.)

2) “Paris” was written by Jon English, an Australian singer who was (wouldn’t you know it) unbelievably talented and apparently a big Homer fan. Truly one of the longest living fandoms, I swear. We drag everyone in, sooner or later. Anyway it’s gloriously 80s in style and just so good.

3) The Helen / Paris / Menelaus thing is… a very good surprise. Seriously. Menelaus cares so much about his wife in this one. Paging @menelaiad​ your boy was done justice in this one. He has a whole song about how much he loves her. (It’s “Thief in the Night.”) Helen sings about how she had these huge hopes for her life and finds herself feeling detached from the life she wants with her husband. (”A Long Time Coming”) (There’s also an EXCELLENT scene where she yells at Paris, “Any Food Could See.” Yes, Paris is the fool who is SO foolish he literally cannot see the obvious. He’s in full Himbo mode here. Well-meaning but not the brightest torch in the cave. Which he displays in the major Act 1 closing number, “Hell or High Water” where he presents Helen to the Trojan court and says NOPE won’t send her back, no sirree.)

4) Agamemnon is… ok no he’s thrown under the proverbial bus. But he is so fun as the villain, I don’t care. Iphigenia isn’t mentioned at all, I think? At least in the songs. Neither is Cly? But it’s still not the Helen of Troy miniseries version of Agamemnon (and for that, I am grateful). The list continues under the cut, but needless to say, this is an amazing musical if you love Homer or just 80s musical theatre. Totally worthwhile, especially here on the #tagamemnon. I WILL overuse the tag, it’s for a good cause.

A curated selection of my favorite details in this silly epic that changed storytelling forever. Homer is hilarious.

- Whenever anyone asks Odysseus where he’s from and he seizes the opportunity to lie continuously for several pages.

- Victims of his elaborate, entirely false backstories include: the cyclops, the suitors, the swineherd, the goddess Athena (who immediately calls bull), his son, his wife, and his father. Odysseus just loves lying

- Every time Athena makes Odysseus hotter and taller so he can rizz someone up

- His brilliant strategy to survive Charybdis’ whirlpool (cling to fig tree “like a bat”)

- When Telemachus casually drops that he is well aware that Mentor is actually Athena and she pretends not to hear and continues to act like she’s just some guy

- When Odysseus falls asleep while the Phoenicians give him a lift home, and instead of waking him when they reach Ithaca, the sailors just pick up the corners of his blankets to dump him on the shore and leave

- Odysseus subsequently waking on a random beach and spending several pages violently confused until Athena, slapping her forehead, has to appear to tell him what’s going on

- Penelope’s weaving and unweaving of the tapestry to get out of marrying the suitors. it’s so stupid that it’s brilliant

- When Odysseus goes to the land of the dead and Achilles and Patroclus appear together <3

- That time Odysseus and Athena sit down on a rock together to plot and scheme etc

- When the maid who raised Odysseus recognizes the gigantic scar he used to always brag about and he grabs her by the neck and tells her to shut the hell up. Elegant elegant man

- Odysseus’s dog who stayed alive for over 20 years so he could lay eyes on him before dying on the spot

- Every time someone says bro you’re kind of hot for a beggar and Odysseus says yeah I know right?

- When Circe was like oh dude I can’t kill you? Guess I’ll sleep with you

- “‘You bitch!’ retorted the ready-witted Odysseus”

- Penelope later calls this maid a bitch too

- When Odysseus avoids competing in the Phoenician games until one of the Phoenicians calls him weak and lazy. so he thoroughly wipes the floor with them

- The sheer number of boats Odysseus crashed

- The sheer number of times Odysseus started sobbing in public

- When one of the Suitors smacks beggar Odysseus with a stool and it takes everything in him to not go insane on them

- Every time Odysseus anonymously gasses Odysseus up

So I thought I would share a list of every interpretation I know, from every serious adaptation of the story and every analysis I've ever heard or read, of why Orpheus looks back.

One interpretation – advocated by Monteverdi's opera, for example – is that the backward glance represents excessive passion and a fatal lack of self-control. Orpheus loves Eurydice to such excess that he tries to defy the laws of nature by bringing her back from the dead, yet that very same passion dooms his quest fo fail, because he can't resist the temptation to look back at her.

He can also be seen as succumbing to that classic "tragic flaw" of hubris, excessive pride. Because his music and his love conquer the Underworld, it might be that he makes the mistake of thinking he's entirely above divine law, and fatally allows himself to break the one rule that Hades and Persephone set for him.

Then there are the versions where his flaw is his lack of faith, because he looks back out of doubt that Eurydice is really there. I think there are three possible interpretations of this scenario, which can each work alone or else co-exist with each other. From what I've read about Hadestown, it sounds as if it combines all three.

In one interpretation, he doubts Hades and Persephone's promise. Will they really give Eurydice back to him, or is it all a cruel trick? In this case, the message seems to be a warning to trust in the gods; if you doubt their blessings, you might lose them.

Another perspective is that he doubts Eurydice. Does she love him enough to follow him? In this case, the warning is that romantic love can't survive unless the lovers trust each other. I'm thinking of Moulin Rouge!, which is ostensibly based on the Orpheus myth, and which uses Christian's jealousy as its equivalent of Orpheus's fatal doubt and explicitly states "Where there is no trust, there is no love."

The third variation is that he doubts himself. Could his music really have the power to sway the Underworld? The message in this version would be that self-doubt can sabotage all our best efforts.

But all of the above interpretations revolve around the concept that Orpheus looks back because of a tragic flaw, which wasn't necessarily the view of Virgil, the earliest known recorder of the myth. Virgil wrote that Orpheus's backward glance was "A pardonable offense, if the spirits knew how to pardon."

In some versions, when the upper world comes into Orpheus's view, he thinks his journey is over. In this moment, he's so ecstatic and so eager to finally see Eurydice that he unthinkingly turns around an instant too soon, either just before he reaches the threshold or when he's already crossed it but Eurydice is still a few steps behind him. In this scenario, it isn't a personal flaw that makes him look back, but just a moment of passion-fueled carelessness, and the fact that it costs him Eurydice shows the pitilessness of the Underworld.

In other versions, concern for Eurydice makes him look back. Sometimes he looks back because the upward path is steep and rocky, and Eurydice is still limping from her snakebite, so he knows she must be struggling, in some versions he even hears her stumble, and he finally can't resist turning around to help her. Or more cruelly, in other versions – for example, in Gluck's opera – Eurydice doesn't know that Orpheus is forbidden to look back at her, and Orpheus is also forbidden to tell her. So she's distraught that her husband seems to be coldly ignoring her and begs him to look at her until he can't bear her anguish anymore.

These versions highlight the harshness of the Underworld's law, and Orpheus's failure to comply with it seems natural and even inevitable. The message here seems to be that death is pitiless and irreversible: a demigod hero might come close to conquering it, but through little or no fault of his own, he's bound to fail in the end.

Another interpretation I've read is that Orpheus's backward glance represents the nature of grief. We can't help but look back on our memories of our dead loved ones, even though it means feeling the pain of loss all over again.

Then there's the interpretation that Orpheus chooses his memory of Eurydice, represented by the backward glance, rather than a future with a living Eurydice. "The poet's choice," as Portrait of a Lady on Fire puts it. In this reading, Orpheus looks back because he realizes he would rather preserve his memory of their youthful, blissful love, just as it was when she died, than face a future of growing older, the difficulties of married life, and the possibility that their love will fade. That's the slightly more sympathetic version. In the version that makes Orpheus more egotistical, he prefers the idealized memory to the real woman because the memory is entirely his possession, in a way that a living wife with her own will could never be, and will never distract him from his music, but can only inspire it.

Then there are the modern feminist interpretations, also alluded to in Portrait of a Lady on Fire but seen in several female-authored adaptations of the myth too, where Eurydice provokes Orpheus into looking back because she wants to stay in the Underworld. The viewpoint kinder to Orpheus is that Eurydice also wants to preserve their love just as it was, youthful, passionate, and blissful, rather than subject it to the ravages of time and the hardships of life. The variation less sympathetic to Orpheus is that Euyridice was at peace in death, in some versions she drank from the river Lethe and doesn't even remember Orpheus, his attempt to take her back is selfish, and she prefers to be her own free woman than be bound to him forever and literally only live for his sake.

With that interpretation in mind, I'm surprised I've never read yet another variation. I can imagine a version where, as Orpheus walks up the path toward the living world, he realizes he's being selfish: Eurydice was happy and at peace in the Elysian Fields, she doesn't even remember him because she drank from Lethe, and she's only following him now because Hades and Persephone have forced her to do so. So he finally looks back out of selfless love, to let her go. Maybe I should write this retelling myself.

hmm i’m actually not sure if i can but we’ll see! 

the first important thing is that ancient greek has two negative particles, μή (mē) and οὐ (ou), and they vary depending on the precise nature of the verb/clause (οὐ is used with indicative verbs and μή with imperatives, οὐ negates fear clauses and μή negates conditional statements, οὐ goes with negative natural result clauses and μή with negative actual result or purpose clauses, etc).

the second important thing is that the ancient greek for “no-one” or “nobody” is built by combining one of those negative particles with the word τις (”someone”, “somebody”), so you would use either μήτις (mētis) or οὔτις (outis) depending on whether μή or οὐ would be the fitting negative particle in that context.

and the third thing is that capital letters, punctuation, and spaces between words, in homeric greek, mean nothing because homer 1) is oral poetry and 2) was initially written down, when it was written down in all caps with no spaces, punctuation, or diacritics.

odysseus tells the cyclops Οὖτις ἐμοί γ᾽ ὄνομα, “Nobody is my name,” using the form οὔτις.

and then here’s the exchange later:

ἱστάμενοι δ᾽ εἴροντο περὶ σπέος ὅττι ἑ κήδοι: “τίπτε τόσον, Πολύφημ᾽, ἀρημένος ὧδ᾽ ἐβόησας νύκτα δι᾽ ἀμβροσίην καὶ ἀύπνους ἄμμε τίθησθα; ἦ μή τίς σευ μῆλα βροτῶν ἀέκοντος ἐλαύνει; ἦ μή τίς σ᾽ αὐτὸν κτείνει δόλῳ ἠὲ βίηφιν;” τοὺς δ᾽ αὖτ᾽ ἐξ ἄντρου προσέφη κρατερὸς Πολύφημος: “ὦ φίλοι, Οὖτίς με κτείνει δόλῳ οὐδὲ βίηφιν.” οἱ δ᾽ ἀπαμειβόμενοι ἔπεα πτερόεντ᾽ ἀγόρευον: “εἰ μὲν δὴ μή τίς σε βιάζεται οἶον ἐόντα, νοῦσον γ᾽ οὔ πως ἔστι Διὸς μεγάλου ἀλέασθαι, ἀλλὰ σύ γ᾽ εὔχεο πατρὶ Ποσειδάωνι ἄνακτι.

i’ll translate it once from polyphemus’s perspective, with his understanding of what everyone is saying:

standing around the cave, they asked what could be troubling him: “why are you shouting so much, polyphemus, as if you’re in pain, and keeping us awake at night? nobody is driving off your sheep! is nobody killing you with trickery or force?” strong polyphemus addressed them from his cave: “friends, nobody is killing me with trickery, not force!” and they replied and spoke winged words: “if nobody is hurting you and you’re alone, well then it’s impossible to escape zeus’s sickness, just pray to dad, lord poseidon.”

but the other cyclopes have a very different understanding of the conversation:

standing around the cave, they asked what could be troubling him: “why are you shouting so much, polyphemus, as if you’re in pain, and keeping us awake at night? is someone driving off your sheep? is someone killing you with trickery or force?” strong polyphemus addressed them from his cave: “friends, nobody is killing me with trickery or force.” and they replied and spoke winged words: “if nobody is hurting you and you’re alone, well then it’s impossible to escape zeus’s sickness, just pray to dad, lord poseidon.”

when they say ἦ μή τίς σ᾽ αὐτὸν κτείνει δόλῳ ἠὲ βίηφιν; they mean it in the sense of “is someone killing you, either by trickery or force?” (a question of whether injury is happening), but he hears it in the sense of “nobody is killing you! is it by trickery or force?” (a question of how the injury is happening). and he answers by saying Οὖτίς με κτείνει δόλῳ οὐδὲ βίηφιν, which he means as “Nobody is killing me by trickery, not by force,” (an answer to how the injury is happening) but they hear it as “nobody is killing me, neither by trickery nor by force” (a negative answer to whether injury is happening). but the greek is the SAME and the scene plays with ambiguities in greek that kind of have to be resolved in translation.