Les Misérables, page 191
CHAPTER I--MARIUS INDIGENT
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Life became hard for Marius. It was nothing to eat his clothes and hiswatch. He ate of that terrible, inexpressible thing that is called_de la vache enragé_; that is to say, he endured great hardships andprivations. A terrible thing it is, containing days without bread,nights without sleep, evenings without a candle, a hearth without afire, weeks without work, a future without hope, a coat out at theelbows, an old hat which evokes the laughter of young girls, a doorwhich one finds locked on one at night because one's rent is notpaid, the insolence of the porter and the cook-shop man, the sneers ofneighbors, humiliations, dignity trampled on, work of whatever natureaccepted, disgusts, bitterness, despondency. Marius learned how allthis is eaten, and how such are often the only things which one hasto devour. At that moment of his existence when a man needs his pride,because he needs love, he felt that he was jeered at because he wasbadly dressed, and ridiculous because he was poor. At the age when youthswells the heart with imperial pride, he dropped his eyes more than onceon his dilapidated boots, and he knew the unjust shame and the poignantblushes of wretchedness. Admirable and terrible trial from which thefeeble emerge base, from which the strong emerge sublime. A crucibleinto which destiny casts a man, whenever it desires a scoundrel or ademi-god.
For many great deeds are performed in petty combats. There are instancesof bravery ignored and obstinate, which defend themselves step bystep in that fatal onslaught of necessities and turpitudes. Noble andmysterious triumphs which no eye beholds, which are requited with norenown, which are saluted with no trumpet blast. Life, misfortune,isolation, abandonment, poverty, are the fields of battle which havetheir heroes; obscure heroes, who are, sometimes, grander than theheroes who win renown.
Firm and rare natures are thus created; misery, almost always astep-mother, is sometimes a mother; destitution gives birth to might ofsoul and spirit; distress is the nurse of pride; unhappiness is a goodmilk for the magnanimous.
There came a moment in Marius' life, when he swept his own landing, whenhe bought his sou's worth of Brie cheese at the fruiterer's, when hewaited until twilight had fallen to slip into the baker's and purchasea loaf, which he carried off furtively to his attic as though he hadstolen it. Sometimes there could be seen gliding into the butcher's shopon the corner, in the midst of the bantering cooks who elbowed him, anawkward young man, carrying big books under his arm, who had a timid yetangry air, who, on entering, removed his hat from a brow whereon stooddrops of perspiration, made a profound bow to the butcher's astonishedwife, asked for a mutton cutlet, paid six or seven sous for it, wrappedit up in a paper, put it under his arm, between two books, and wentaway. It was Marius. On this cutlet, which he cooked for himself, helived for three days.
On the first day he ate the meat, on the second he ate the fat, on thethird he gnawed the bone. Aunt Gillenormand made repeated attempts, andsent him the sixty pistoles several times. Marius returned them on everyoccasion, saying that he needed nothing.
He was still in mourning for his father when the revolution which wehave just described was effected within him. From that time forth, hehad not put off his black garments. But his garments were quitting him.The day came when he had no longer a coat. The trousers would go next.What was to be done? Courfeyrac, to whom he had, on his side, done somegood turns, gave him an old coat. For thirty sous, Marius got it turnedby some porter or other, and it was a new coat. But this coat was green.Then Marius ceased to go out until after nightfall. This made his coatblack. As he wished always to appear in mourning, he clothed himselfwith the night.
In spite of all this, he got admitted to practice as a lawyer. He wassupposed to live in Courfeyrac's room, which was decent, and wherea certain number of law-books backed up and completed by severaldilapidated volumes of romance, passed as the library required by theregulations. He had his letters addressed to Courfeyrac's quarters.
When Marius became a lawyer, he informed his grandfather of the factin a letter which was cold but full of submission and respect. M.Gillenormand trembled as he took the letter, read it, tore it in fourpieces, and threw it into the waste-basket. Two or three days later,Mademoiselle Gillenormand heard her father, who was alone in his room,talking aloud to himself. He always did this whenever he was greatlyagitated. She listened, and the old man was saying: "If you were not afool, you would know that one cannot be a baron and a lawyer at the sametime."
