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3.85 AVERAGE
3.85 AVERAGE
As far as French gothic narratives go, you will be hard-pressed to find one as iconic as Victor Hugo’s [b:The Hunchback of Notre-Dame|30597|The Hunchback of Notre-Dame|Victor Hugo|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1388342667l/30597._SY75_.jpg|3043569]. Hard to describe, this book is so many things that encapsulates the drama at the very heart of Paris.
Growing up as a kid in the 90’s, the 1996 Disney film adaptation was my introduction to this material, and now I know it was pretty much all lies. Not unlike Sleeping Beauty, many liberties were taken to adapt the text into a family-friendly tale that could be marketed at large, and much of the dark absurdism of the original piece was lost in the process. Not to mention that this book is also wholly inappropriate for young children.
Admittedly, many of the story elements really do not hold up. This includes the representation of the “hunchback” Quasimodo, the Romani as baby snatchers, the 16-year-old Esmerelda as a naïve fool, her mother as a ragging lunatic, who are all rounded out by an additional cast of terrible, self-interested individuals. While there was certainly plenty of drama here, this story read like a slow-moving soap opera. I really did not feel invested in anyone’s outcome after all the twists and turns were done unravelling.
What is interesting and noteworthy about this novel though, is Victor Hugo’s incorporation of the Notre-Dame cathedral almost as more of a character than a setting. In general, his thoughts on the importance and resonance of architecture are infinitely more insightful than the actual plot of the book. This includes his musings that:
“…the greatest products of architecture are less the works of individuals than of society; rather the offspring of a nation’s effort, than the inspired flash of a man of genius; the deposit left by a whole people; the heaps accumulated by centuries; the residue of successive evaporations of human society – in a word, species of formations. Each wave of time contributes its alluvium, each race deposits its layer on the monument, each individual brings his stone. Thus do the beavers, thus do the bees, thus do men. The great symbol of architecture, Babel, is a hive.”
This seems to be particularly relevant with the 2019 fire that broke out at the Norte-Dame cathedral, as well as the subsequent national response. I have long felt that it is a people that give cultural meaning to any landmark, rather than vice-versa. Each generation shapes and gives life to a city and its buildings, that go beyond the artistic assembly of a stack of bricks. My New York sensibilities may be shining through here, as every building in the city has a long and complicated history (and I don’t just mean the haunted ones). So, it was fascinating to see Hugo use this premise within a crazy soap opera narrative.
He also expands on how the role of books can shape public perception about key architectural structures, somewhat breaking the fourth wall if you will:
“…which constantly superposes itself without a break, without a gap, upon the human race, which walks a monster with a thousand legs?—Architecture or printing? It is printing. Let the reader make no mistake; architecture is dead, irretrievably slain by the printed book,—slain because it endures for a shorter time,—slain because it costs more. Every cathedral represents millions…A book is so soon made, costs so little, and can go so far!...The grand poem, the grand edifice, the grand work of humanity will no longer be built: it will be printed. And henceforth, if architecture should arise again accidentally, it will no longer be mistress. It will be subservient to the law of literature, which formerly received the law from it. The respective positions of the two arts will be inverted.”
This twisted tale of how the disenfranchised are exploited and crushed by those in power, all under the eye of grand church, I think is quite telling of how grandeur means nothing if the spirituality of those worshiping inside does not represent true justice. It’s just so sad that this kinda boring story is what comes from such a promising seed of thought.
Overall, I mostly enjoyed this book and am happy that I (finally) read it. Feel free to pick up a copy and decide for yourself!
Growing up as a kid in the 90’s, the 1996 Disney film adaptation was my introduction to this material, and now I know it was pretty much all lies. Not unlike Sleeping Beauty, many liberties were taken to adapt the text into a family-friendly tale that could be marketed at large, and much of the dark absurdism of the original piece was lost in the process. Not to mention that this book is also wholly inappropriate for young children.
Admittedly, many of the story elements really do not hold up. This includes the representation of the “hunchback” Quasimodo, the Romani as baby snatchers, the 16-year-old Esmerelda as a naïve fool, her mother as a ragging lunatic, who are all rounded out by an additional cast of terrible, self-interested individuals. While there was certainly plenty of drama here, this story read like a slow-moving soap opera. I really did not feel invested in anyone’s outcome after all the twists and turns were done unravelling.
What is interesting and noteworthy about this novel though, is Victor Hugo’s incorporation of the Notre-Dame cathedral almost as more of a character than a setting. In general, his thoughts on the importance and resonance of architecture are infinitely more insightful than the actual plot of the book. This includes his musings that:
“…the greatest products of architecture are less the works of individuals than of society; rather the offspring of a nation’s effort, than the inspired flash of a man of genius; the deposit left by a whole people; the heaps accumulated by centuries; the residue of successive evaporations of human society – in a word, species of formations. Each wave of time contributes its alluvium, each race deposits its layer on the monument, each individual brings his stone. Thus do the beavers, thus do the bees, thus do men. The great symbol of architecture, Babel, is a hive.”
This seems to be particularly relevant with the 2019 fire that broke out at the Norte-Dame cathedral, as well as the subsequent national response. I have long felt that it is a people that give cultural meaning to any landmark, rather than vice-versa. Each generation shapes and gives life to a city and its buildings, that go beyond the artistic assembly of a stack of bricks. My New York sensibilities may be shining through here, as every building in the city has a long and complicated history (and I don’t just mean the haunted ones). So, it was fascinating to see Hugo use this premise within a crazy soap opera narrative.
He also expands on how the role of books can shape public perception about key architectural structures, somewhat breaking the fourth wall if you will:
“…which constantly superposes itself without a break, without a gap, upon the human race, which walks a monster with a thousand legs?—Architecture or printing? It is printing. Let the reader make no mistake; architecture is dead, irretrievably slain by the printed book,—slain because it endures for a shorter time,—slain because it costs more. Every cathedral represents millions…A book is so soon made, costs so little, and can go so far!...The grand poem, the grand edifice, the grand work of humanity will no longer be built: it will be printed. And henceforth, if architecture should arise again accidentally, it will no longer be mistress. It will be subservient to the law of literature, which formerly received the law from it. The respective positions of the two arts will be inverted.”
This twisted tale of how the disenfranchised are exploited and crushed by those in power, all under the eye of grand church, I think is quite telling of how grandeur means nothing if the spirituality of those worshiping inside does not represent true justice. It’s just so sad that this kinda boring story is what comes from such a promising seed of thought.
Overall, I mostly enjoyed this book and am happy that I (finally) read it. Feel free to pick up a copy and decide for yourself!
C'était une épreuve.
Tout d'abord, parce que Victor Hugo est le roi de la description (un peu) inutile, qui freine l'action, et porte sur des sujets pas très très intéressants. Je dois avouer que les descriptions de monument me laissent de marbre (j'adore l'humour), et donc, j'ai beaucoup souffert en lisant certains chapitres. Cependant, je connais ces petites manies de l'ami Hugo, ce n'est pas ma première rencontre avec le bonhomme.
Ce qui est difficile avec ce monument (j'adore les blagues vous dis-je) de la littérature française, c'est que les personnages ne sont pas super attachants. Ou bien j'ai un cœur de pierre (l'art de la gaudriole).
Esméralda est mignonne, mais complètement naïve. Phoebus est un "sale con" (c'est ma mamie qui le dit). Quasimodo, le pauvre, n'a pas grand chose pour lui. Gringoire est un bavard épuisant. Frollo... Frollo est un monstre. C'est, je trouve, le personnage le plus fascinant. A première vue, il a tout du fanatique austère. Mais plus on progresse, plus le masque se fend. Ce qui meut Frollo, c'est la passion. Non pas une passion humaine, une passion à laquelle on pourrait adhérer (ou que l'on pourrait pardonner, voire comprendre), mais une passion démoniaque. Frollo est un personnage glaçant, un monstre comme on en fait peu. C'est vraiment lui qui rend le roman passionnant, qui pétrifie (j'ai presque fini mes jeux de mots) le lecteur et l'accroche jusqu'au bout.
Il faut avoir du temps devant soi pour lire ce pavé (haha), et surtout, avoir l'esprit léger. C'est une lecture que j'ai trouvée difficile, mais que je reprendrai probablement plus tard.
Tout d'abord, parce que Victor Hugo est le roi de la description (un peu) inutile, qui freine l'action, et porte sur des sujets pas très très intéressants. Je dois avouer que les descriptions de monument me laissent de marbre (j'adore l'humour), et donc, j'ai beaucoup souffert en lisant certains chapitres. Cependant, je connais ces petites manies de l'ami Hugo, ce n'est pas ma première rencontre avec le bonhomme.
Ce qui est difficile avec ce monument (j'adore les blagues vous dis-je) de la littérature française, c'est que les personnages ne sont pas super attachants. Ou bien j'ai un cœur de pierre (l'art de la gaudriole).
Esméralda est mignonne, mais complètement naïve. Phoebus est un "sale con" (c'est ma mamie qui le dit). Quasimodo, le pauvre, n'a pas grand chose pour lui. Gringoire est un bavard épuisant. Frollo... Frollo est un monstre. C'est, je trouve, le personnage le plus fascinant. A première vue, il a tout du fanatique austère. Mais plus on progresse, plus le masque se fend. Ce qui meut Frollo, c'est la passion. Non pas une passion humaine, une passion à laquelle on pourrait adhérer (ou que l'on pourrait pardonner, voire comprendre), mais une passion démoniaque. Frollo est un personnage glaçant, un monstre comme on en fait peu. C'est vraiment lui qui rend le roman passionnant, qui pétrifie (j'ai presque fini mes jeux de mots) le lecteur et l'accroche jusqu'au bout.
Il faut avoir du temps devant soi pour lire ce pavé (haha), et surtout, avoir l'esprit léger. C'est une lecture que j'ai trouvée difficile, mais que je reprendrai probablement plus tard.
“He therefore turned to mankind only with regret. His cathedral was enough for him. It was peopled with marble figures of kings, saints and bishops who at least did not laugh in his face and looked at him with only tranquillity and benevolence. The other statues, those of monsters and demons, had no hatred for him – he resembled them too closely for that. It was rather the rest of mankind that they jeered at. The saints were his friends and blessed him; the monsters were his friends and kept watch over him. He would sometimes spend whole hours crouched before one of the statues in solitary conversation with it. If anyone came upon him then he would run away like a lover surprised during a serenade.”
Tanta roba. Forse anche troppa, specie considerato che avrei fatto volentieri a meno di sapere anche di che colore fossero le nappine dei cuscini dei salotti parigini. Prolissità a parte, Hugo scrive divinamente, bellissime le descrizioni della cattedrale e di Parigi. Magistrale la caratterizzazione di Frollo e Quasimodo, decisamente i due personaggi più approfonditi ed interessanti del romanzo. Mi è mancato un po’ lo stesso per Esmeralda, a dirla tutta.
(Nessuno lo capirà, ma comunque galeotto fu il gala di TEB)
Tanta roba. Forse anche troppa, specie considerato che avrei fatto volentieri a meno di sapere anche di che colore fossero le nappine dei cuscini dei salotti parigini. Prolissità a parte, Hugo scrive divinamente, bellissime le descrizioni della cattedrale e di Parigi. Magistrale la caratterizzazione di Frollo e Quasimodo, decisamente i due personaggi più approfonditi ed interessanti del romanzo. Mi è mancato un po’ lo stesso per Esmeralda, a dirla tutta.
(Nessuno lo capirà, ma comunque galeotto fu il gala di TEB)
AKA Everything Disney Taught You Is a Lie
I've known for a long time that this book wouldn't end happily like the Disney movie, but I had no idea just how much Disney altered the characters. They gave me unrealistic expectations for Phoebus and Esmeralda. I just wanted to scream at Esmeralda most of the time I read the book, "Stop obsessing over this guy who doesn't love you! You're literally throwing your life away!" That being said, I did enjoy this book on its own without comparing it too much to the Disney version, and by the end, I was genuinely sad for all the characters (Except for Phoebus. Screw that guy). This book has all the social commentary, dramatic irony, and tragedy that I loved in Les Miserables, and I am glad that I read it. But more than anything, I'm impressed that Disney was able to take something so heavy and turn it into one of my favorite, most heartwarming Disney movies. Kudos to them. I appreciate their Esmeralda and Phoebus so much more now that I've seen their original versions.
Go read the book, and then go watch the movie. Both are great.
I've known for a long time that this book wouldn't end happily like the Disney movie, but I had no idea just how much Disney altered the characters. They gave me unrealistic expectations for Phoebus and Esmeralda. I just wanted to scream at Esmeralda most of the time I read the book, "Stop obsessing over this guy who doesn't love you! You're literally throwing your life away!" That being said, I did enjoy this book on its own without comparing it too much to the Disney version, and by the end, I was genuinely sad for all the characters (Except for Phoebus. Screw that guy). This book has all the social commentary, dramatic irony, and tragedy that I loved in Les Miserables, and I am glad that I read it. But more than anything, I'm impressed that Disney was able to take something so heavy and turn it into one of my favorite, most heartwarming Disney movies. Kudos to them. I appreciate their Esmeralda and Phoebus so much more now that I've seen their original versions.
Go read the book, and then go watch the movie. Both are great.
adventurous
dark
emotional
sad
slow-paced
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
slooooooooooow start but once you get about halfway through things pick up. at about 3/4 of the way through its impossible to put down.
Hated the first 300 pages, but then could not stop. The power of the story!
I really truly enjoyed this book!! I thought it would be a hard read, as I have already read Les Mis and while I loved it, it had it's fair share of long, dry and boring sections. This book was not like that at all. Jam packed with action and interesting (and mostly terribly selfish) characters, it was tragically sad and slightly beautiful at the same time.
un classico, l'ho letto quando sono tornata dal viaggio-studio a Parigi.. Bellissima storia, peccato solo che in alcuni punti si fa un po' fatica a procedere con la lettura, vedi tutta la parte di Parigi dall'alto che non finisce più!!
For a classic, this book is quite entertaining.
I can't decide whether it has fulfilled my expectations or not. First of all, the story between the misunderstood Quasimodo, the beautiful and innocent Esmeralda and the obsessed priest Frollo is incredibly exciting and features psychological depth that I hadn't anticipated in the least. The characters are original and have strong desires. The setting, Paris in the Middle Age, adds a sinister atmosphere, the perfect background for the happenings.
However, the downsides are obvious: description. Especially towards the beginning of the book (read: the first 200 pages) there is so much description of places and scenes that I breezed through quite some of it to get to the next junk of story. At one point, there were over 30 pages describing Notre-Dame and the view over Paris from its highest tower. Districts, landmark buildings, streets... mixed with a paragraph of history here and there.
Nevertheless, The Hunchback of Notre-Dame has been an entertaining read and Victor Hugo's writing style is dreamy as well as realistic, creating a unique atmosphere and a story of epic proportions.
I can't decide whether it has fulfilled my expectations or not. First of all, the story between the misunderstood Quasimodo, the beautiful and innocent Esmeralda and the obsessed priest Frollo is incredibly exciting and features psychological depth that I hadn't anticipated in the least. The characters are original and have strong desires. The setting, Paris in the Middle Age, adds a sinister atmosphere, the perfect background for the happenings.
However, the downsides are obvious: description. Especially towards the beginning of the book (read: the first 200 pages) there is so much description of places and scenes that I breezed through quite some of it to get to the next junk of story. At one point, there were over 30 pages describing Notre-Dame and the view over Paris from its highest tower. Districts, landmark buildings, streets... mixed with a paragraph of history here and there.
Nevertheless, The Hunchback of Notre-Dame has been an entertaining read and Victor Hugo's writing style is dreamy as well as realistic, creating a unique atmosphere and a story of epic proportions.