In a theatre off of Shaftsbury Avenue, I’m immersed in the changing tides of the French government as the Friends of the ABC fight against the national guard. The epilogue is a swelling ensemble in the musical of Les Misérables. The students have died fighting against French bourgeois and King and in the finale of Jean Valjean’s death, the cast joins together in song.
“Do you hear the people sing lost in the valley of the night? It is the music of the people who are climbing to the light.”
The emotional storm inside me that has been raging for the past three hours of song and dance is subsiding. I finally exhale a sign of relief and find peace of mind in knowing that the killing is over and Jean Valjean rests peacefully.
I read Victor Hugo’s Les Misérables in preparation for this course. The behemoth text is a slow burn of Parisian mapping, historical dramatization, and ethical dilemmas. Les Misérables is a challenge in length and a page-turner in design. Hugo commands stylistic craftsmanship and sculps characters as breathing individuals. Musical productions strive to craft digestive entertainment for the average Broadway-goer. Cameron Mackintosh–the original producer of Les Misérables–tasked himself with turning more than a thousand pages of characters and conflict into orchestra, lyrics, and stage directions. Mackintosh told Les Misérables in the smallest nutshell he could. Momentary scenes capture years of transition and turmoil; Jean Valjean goes from convict to mayor in a matter of minutes whereas Victor Hugo dedicates hundreds of pages to the spiritual resurrection of the man fallen from grace. The musical may not be a carbon copy of the tale, but it has kept Victor Hugo’s work alive and accessible to people worldwide.
One notable difference in portrayal is the epilogue scene. In the novel, Jean Valjean dies in a quiet room with Fantine’s angelic ghost welcoming him to his afterlife. He dies and that is all.
“He sleeps. Though fate dealt with him strangely, he lived. Bereft of his angel, he died. It came about simply, of itself, as night follows when the day is ended.”
In the quiet comfort of Jean Valjean’s death, there’s a certain sweetness.
The musical–by contrast–is an anthem of destiny. The belting ensemble of the living and the dead pump a fist at French transgressions and say, “No More.” It’s an uplifting and collective roar that counterbalances the other numbers. I suppose both the novel and musical achieve a certain attitude of peace in the reader and audience member respectively. In both, you see Jean Valjean accepting death just as the good light accepts him. You see Fantine and the Bishop and Cossette and Marius love him one last time for the good man he was. This occurs in the musical as well, but with the addition of an ensemble.
As I watched the finale unfold, I recalled a clip my cousin (Samantha) sent me four months ago. At the White House Governors Ball, the United States Army Chorus performed the musical epilogue from Les Misérables for President Donald Trump. The choir entered the banquet hall in blocked formation as politicians wined and dined post inauguration. Sami messaged: “Trump’s got no idea what they’re singing.” He probably didn’t. I wonder about the choice of the U.S. Army to sing the epilogue number of Les Misérables. What was their intent? Was there a message? In the musical, this number is the peoples’ call for change from aristocratic oppression.
“We will walk behind the ploughshare;
we will put the sword away
The chain will be broken
And all men
Will have their reward
”
Pardon the term, but I can’t help but think that these men and women were being a bit ballsy. I don’t believe that they were singing a song of praise, but rather of judgement. In so many words, they are saying that Americans will call for change from Trumpian ways. I could be wrong. I could be embracing a grey attitude about the new man in office. Whatever the case may be, strong reasoning was involved in the decision making process for this song. The Les Misérables epilogue is an impactful piece of music that traces back to an even more impactful piece of literature that traces back to an even more impactful past. This decision wasn’t left to chance. Nobody shuffled for a scrap of paper in a fishbowl. This was a purposeful decision; this was sending a message. I delight in their choice. I appreciate that this song captures the thematic timeline of history’s repetition and the collective voice of nationalism.