In 1793, Henri-Pierre Danloux painted Jean-Francois de La Marche (1729-1805), comte-évêque de Saint-Pol-de-Leon, émigre en Angleterre en 1791. This is exactly how I picture Mr. Lorry!
We went to the Louvre on Saturday, and despite the crowds, saw so many characters from our books in the Denon wing! I spotted figures which could have been Lucy, Eponine and Marius, and Mr. Lorry! Okay, the characters were definitely not present in the same way that Gavroche was in Liberty Leading the People, but the likenesses were similar enough that I could picture the characters when I saw the paintings.
I imagined the characters would have been wearing similar clothing, but more than anything, the things the artists chose to highlight resembled the aspects the author chose to emphasize.
For example, the themes of light and dark pictured in Le Christ Sur La Croix by Pierre-Paul Prud’hon. In this painting, there is a strong contrast between light and dark, where Christ’s body is almost entirely white and the background is almost entirely black. One can make out a shadowy figure in the background, but the central figure is unquestionably Christ, whose body is disproportionately illuminated by an imaginary light source. This painting really strikes me because of the veneration of Christ which pervades the entire piece. Elevating and illuminating his body to such an extent in the portrait reminds me of Les Mis and its themes of extreme goodness and extreme evil. There is no in-between with Hugo. Jean Valjean is saintly and Thenardier is evil. I wonder if this type of religious painting was going through Hugo’s and his readers’ heads when they wrote/read Les Mis. As a modern reader, it is tempting to read the book with a secular mind, as we are used to reading texts from a variety of time periods which are shaped by different religious beliefs and politics, but at the time of its writing, both Hugo and his audience were probably deeply religious, as this painting really helps me visualize. Seeing this painting helped me reevaluate the novel in a religious context, much like seeing the musical did. It’s so religious! The morals, the good vs evil is all shaped by a religious context, which is important to today because morals are a social construct changing through time and place.
The next painting that struck me as similar to the themes in the books was also by Prud’hon. His portrayal of this woman in The Soul breaking the bonds that bind it to the earth in an angelic light reminds me of Dickens’ portrayal of Lucy. Not only is the woman in the picture absolutely glowing, but the painting is also placed at the head of the hall in a place it would receive a lot of light, thus amplifying the angelic feeling of the piece. It reminds me of Lucy, whose character is revered throughout the novel. Not only are her actions and words kind, but the other characters constantly praise her compassion and hold her up as an angel. The Louvre does the same thing as Dickens by holding women up in an angelic light, except it’s literal rather than figurative.
Then, there was Eponine by contrast, who I chose to highlight in this post for a different reason. I found her portrait interesting because it wasn’t even remotely a portrait of her. It was a painting of a totally different historical event, and she wasn’t even a central figure, but I saw her in it. I found a painting by Delacriox called Massacres at Chios; Greek Families Awaiting Death or Slavery and saw a man and woman slumped onto the ground. The man is wounded, staring intensely into space while the woman has downcast eyes and looks resigned to her fate. This reminded me of Eponine and Marius, where Eponine is looking for a place to die for Marius, and Marius has never once looked at her the same way even as she is suffering for him. It would be a stretch to say Hugo saw this painting; what’s more concrete to notice is that when I saw this portrait as a modern reader, although the events of the painting are a totally different place and before our revolution, I couldn’t help but project my knowledge into it and see what I wanted to see. I think my process of viewing the art and relating it back to things I have read reflects what we do when we learn new information, particularly about the past. Because we have such a poor grasp on time, we are always learning things in relation to the other things we know. So any history uncovered today… How much of is it shaped by what we want to know?
The final painting I wanted to reflect on was a self-portrait of/by Jacques Louis David. According to the information placard, David painted this portrait while he was in prison in 1794 after having served the revolutionary government during the Reign of Terror. What struck me was his hard, angry stare. I can imagine him staring for hours at himself in a mirror trying to capture each detail, down to the lines in his forehead and the circles under his eyes. His grim face is the face of a man who once believed in the revolution but has been cast away by it. In noticing this painting, I can’t help but think of all the similar attitudes held by people who lived through the revolutions and its aftermath. This bitterness does not just go away with the restoration and a little bit of time. I can imagine that both Hugo and Dickens were writing amidst tumultuous times surrounded by many different political attitudes and resentment. This painting helps me realize that not only were Dickens and Hugo recording the historical events of the times, but they were also informed by the prevailing attitudes.
So in all, my visit to the Louvre enlivened and enriched my thoughts around the books. I think I got a better picture of the time in which the authors were writing, and the context of which they were writing about. The books also significantly deepened my experience of the Louvre. As someone who isn’t a painting person, I would never have imagined spending as much time enjoying the art as I did after having discussed the novels and learned the history. I should do this for every museum I go to! Very cool!