The Temptation of the Impossible

Mario Vargas Llosa's book of commentary on Les Misérables is titled The Temptation of the Impossible. Llosa's title refers to the improbability of Hugo's world, where coincidental meetings are the crux of climactic scenes and characters are superhuman. These days, though, the impossibility for many teens seems to lie in the length of the novel.

A typical conversation with someone asking me for a book suggestion might go like this:
“Ilana, what’s your favorite book?”
“Les Misérables.”
“OK, maybe I’ll read it. Do you know where I can get it?”
“I think Powell’s has it unabridged. Be careful; don’t get an abridged version.”
“Abridged? How long is this book anyway?”
“Oh, two thousand pages…”
“Do you have any shorter books to recommend?”
At that point I sigh and recommend another Hugo book, usually Ninety-Three.

But offering alternatives leaves me unsatisfied. I don't do Les Misérables justice when I recommend a substitute, because it has no peer. Hugo's book is more than a complicated plot full of nuanced characters--it is an entire world. Lengthy asides about the year 1817 or the battle of Waterloo comprise as much of the text as action sequences. Though seemingly irrelevant, these passages embody Hugo's genius. Hugo was tempted by the impossibility of creating not just a story, but an entire world in which to place it. Jean Cocteau's claim that, “Victor Hugo was a madman who thought he was Victor Hugo" is the perfect summary of his ambition. The goal was not to be God--any poet can do that. Hugo aimed to create Hugo's world rather than God's, a world in which improbabilities are accepted as simple necessities, in which the inexorable nature of each character's fate is compatible with the anguish of his decisions. In short, a literary utopia.

Lamartine wrote that Hugo’s masterpiece would “do much harm to the people, creating in them disgust at being the people and not God”. It's true that Valjean’s supererogatory actions, Marius’s incurable passion for Cosette, Enjolras’ suicidal patriotism--all make me sorry to be merely human. Yet I can't help but wonder if Lamartine's criticism refers not to the characters of the novel, but the author. Hugo had transcended God in the perfection of his creation, and the public--like Lamartine--couldn't help but envy his triumph.