Engaging the Culture: Les Misérables

Note: This post contains spoilers!  Only read it if you know the story!

When Victor Hugo first wrote Les Misérables in 1862, he could not have known the ways his story would be told a century and a half in the future.  He probably never imagined  Javert singing as he cast himself into the Seine, nor foresaw his characters coming to life on a screen as large as a wall.  But he did know, right from the start, that his story would be timeless.  “So long as ignorance and misery remain on earth,” his preface reads, “books like this cannot be useless.”

The message of Les Misérables is far from useless today.  The throngs of people the world over who have seen the stage show since 1985, as well as the artists who have devoted their talents to retelling the story on stage and on screen are testament to that.  Now, as a brilliant new version of the tale is released in theatres, it is the perfect time for us to do more than weigh the quality of the actors or discuss the scenery.  We need to talk about why we have held on to this story for so long.  We have to identify its challenge to us, and decide whether or not we are willing to accept it.

Les Misérables is, on the surface, heartrending.  Fantine’s poverty and humiliation, the revolutionaries’ failure, and Éponine’s unrequited love all break a different piece of our hearts.  But, in the midst of all this tragedy, Hugo’s story manages to be filled with hope.  The reason for this is eloquently stated in the Finale of the musical: “And remember the truth that once was spoken: to love another person is to see the face of God.”

Les Misérables is a story of love confusing ignorance and creating moments of light and redemption in a world that is otherwise drowning in misery.  It is the story of broken people seeing the face of God when they least expect it, then carrying his blessings to others in turn.  The bishop has compassion for a stranger, giving Valjean the opportunity to live not just as a normal member of society, but as a man so moved by the mercy shown him that he becomes a blessing to every person he meets.  Valjean’s compassion for Fantine allows Fantine to be a blessing to him, because the daughter he agrees to raise for her becomes the most beautiful part of his life.  And Éponine, whose love for Marius is both the greatest joy and greatest pain of her existence, is willing to help him find Cosette and even dies to save him.  She never stops wanting him for herself, but in the absence of that possibility, she does what she can to make him happy.

Les Misérables is not full of happy endings.  Despite the bishop’s compassion, Valjean is hunted all his life.  Valjean cannot save Fantine.  And Éponine dies knowing Marius will easily forget her, with Cosette at his side in the days ahead.  But love does produce flashes of light in a dark world, and the sacrifices of many  come together to create one happy ending that should have been impossible: a prostitute’s illegitimate daughter and a young man of privileged birth who should have died twice in a student uprising live to marry and have happy lives together.  And, somehow, I feel that every character who contributed to that ending would have said it was worth it.

By the typical standards of the world, the love in Les Mis does not make sense.  Why should the bishop save Valjean from the police when all he knew about him was that he was a thief?  Why should Valjean devote half his life to raising a stranger’s child?  And why should Éponine help Marius find Cosette?  Furthermore, why should Valjean give up his freedom to save a man out of his mind, or set Javert free when he knows Javert will likely kill him when he gets the chance?

Maybe love doesn't make sense.  Neither does worshiping a God who died as a common criminal.  But Jesus’ sacrifice became the resurrection and our redemption, and our compassion and sacrifices borne in love contribute to the recreation of a broken world.  “Ignorance and misery” certainly existed in 19^th century France, and they just as certainly exist in our world today.  The message of Les Mis is not to weep for the suffering, it is to live for them.  We are challenged to take the compassion we have already been given and to be love for each other.  "Will you join in our crusade?  Who will be strong and stand with me?” the chorus sings at the end of the musical.  I don’t think they’re talking about building barricades in the streets of Paris.

Engaging the Culture: J. R. R. Tolkien's The Hobbit

Today we begin discussing J. R. R. Tolkien’s The Hobbit.  Be forewarned that this post may contain spoilers!

Although J. R. R. Tolkien’s devotion to the Catholic faith is no secret, little about The Hobbit seems to suggest that Tolkien meant to convey anything about his personal beliefs through his writings.  The book presents itself as a delightful children’s story that takes on the traditional questing theme, but in a lighthearted manner; Bilbo Baggins, after all, is not exactly standard hero material.  No one ever discusses morality, no one ever mentions God.  However, as G. K. Chesterton writes in The Everlasting Man, “It is impossible, I hope, for any Catholic to write any book on any subject…without showing that he is a Catholic.”  Tolkien’s philosophy and values form the basis for the entire book, guiding his choice of hero, his depiction of character development, and his final decision to turn his children’s story into a surprisingly sophisticated commentary on personal morality and the nature of war.  His world and the rules that guide it are ultimately Catholic, even if the characters are not.

Tolkien’s Middle-earth is meant to be our world, though in a time long ago before Christianity.  The characters do not know or worship Christ, but they are theoretically still bound by the moral law written on our hearts.  That is, they have the ability to recognize evil and a responsibility to choose good.  Though no character refers to a deity (Gandalf comes close by suggesting that something more than luck preserves Bilbo throughout his adventures), they all instinctively recognize the value of qualities such as honesty, loyalty, and hospitality while instinctively hating the senseless violence of the orcs.  Nearly all the characters at some point will face temptation to do wrong, and their response to that temptation will rule their fate.

Tolkien, however, never resorts to allegory to depict man’s struggle with temptation.  Instead, he depicts it naturally through the choices faced by his characters.  Their story resonates because these choices have real consequences—evil is repaid with evil and good repaid with good.  Although it sometimes seems that in this life the wicked flourish while the good suffer, a Catholic worldview holds that in the end all will receive their just reward.  The consequences experienced by the characters of The Hobbit reflect this belief and thus seem fitting.

So it is that Smaug, overcome with pride, reveals to Bilbo his one weakness—and seals his own fate.  The dwarfs, overcome with dragon lust, determine to sit on their pile of gold until they starve—and suffer for it.  Bilbo alone resists greed for wealth and he alone is able to return to his home whole and happy.  The key to the entire text lies in Thorin’s final words to the Hobbit: “If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.”  This is no ordinary quest story.  Bilbo does not leave his comfortable Hobbit hole to gain something as vulgar as gold.  Rather, he leaves his Hobbit hole because doing so enables him to grow as a person, to recognize the value of what he already has, and to serve as an example for others.

Such a message contradicts many of those seen today in books and film.  How often are we emotionally manipulated by storytellers to cheer for an adulterous relationship?  How often do we find ourselves secretly approving of characters who take revenge on those who have wronged them, rather than extending forgiveness?  We may find ourselves able to relate to such characters, but we cannot admire them--not as we can admire Bilbo and his surprising strength and courage.  Bilbo is fairly unique among modern heroes.  He is an Everyman, but one who demonstrates the possibility of personal moral growth.  He gives hope to us all.

So will Peter Jackson's version of The Hobbit keep the underlying Christian themes?  I cannot say with certainty as I have yet to view the film.  However, unless Jackson makes major changes to the story (such as he did with Aragorn, Faramir, and Treebeard in The Lord of the Rings), the overall message of evil leading to evil and good leading to good should remain.  If not, at least viewers may find themselves inspired to read Tolkien's original work.  

Engaging the Culture: An Introduction

The recent election has seen new spirit infused into both sides currently fighting the culture wars over such issues as abortion, artificial birth control, the right to health care, and more.  Although the U.S. bishops spoke out strongly against legislation that covers abortions and forces religious employers to pay for services that violate their beliefs, the majority of Americans (and Catholics) did not vote against these proposals.  The aftermath left many faithful Catholics wondering exactly what went wrong.  Did they fail properly to explain the basis of Church teaching?  Were they unable to compete with the information offered by other news sources?  (My friends, for example, seemed convinced that the issue at stake was the outlaw of all methods of contraception, rather than a religious freedom exemption for certain employers.)  What should they do differently in the future?

I am not convinced that a lack of information lies at the root of the current, popular aversion to Church teaching on matters of abortion, embryonic stem cell research, IVF, artificial birth control, and more.  Anyone really interested in what the Church actually says can do a quick Internet search and find helpful resources on such sites as EWTN or Catholic Answers.  Better yet, the Vatican has the entire Catechism of the Catholic Church online.  Yes, despite these resources, many remain ignorant about the actual teachings and instead parrot garbled versions offered to them by sources that have no interest in portraying the Church fairly or accurately.  But the problem is not the lack of information—the problem is that the teachings are so radically opposed to everything our culture tells us that they appear difficult and unattractive.  How many people will spend time researching something that seems so far-fetched as to be irrelevant to them?

Before we offer others the truth of what the Catholic Church teaches, we need to make that truth appear desirable.  Teachings on abstinence, for example, can make abstinence appear as a negative—it seems like just another rule preventing people from having fun.  Because our culture insists that premarital unchastity is normal, desirable, and consequence-free, any teaching insisting the opposite is going to be a hard sell.  Simply saying, “No, you can’t do that!” will not only prove unconvincing, but may also come across as judgmental.  However, explaining why a person will be better off in the long run by practicing chastity can open up a discussion.  Jason Evert and his wife Crystalina do great work promoting chaste lifestyles by arguing that abstinence allows young adults to save themselves for true love.  They do not present abstinence as a list of things unmarried individuals cannot do, but as an opportunity for them to grow an individuals.

So how do Catholics present Catholicism in a positive light to the world?  Living lives of love, of course, but also by engaging the culture.  The recent release of Peter Jackson’s The Hobbit will introduce (or reintroduce) many to the works of a man whose worldview was shaped by his Catholicism.  Soon after the movie version of Les Miserables will offer another great Catholic story to the masses.  Neither work overtly proclaims itself as based on Catholic principles; neither one will likely cause viewers to leave the theatre because they under the impression that the makers are proselytizing.  However, neither work can fully escape the philosophy of their creators.  They depict characters living lives that reflect Christian values—and their lives are admirable and attractive enough that they have caught the imaginations of generations.

The world needs more such stories—stories that illustrate the beauty of a Catholic worldview and, in so doing, strike their audiences with a joy so beautiful it hurts.  Stories that engage audiences because they depict characters who suffer hardships and sorrows—many undeserved—but who carry on, showing themselves honest, brave, loyal, and full of love.  Stories that are true.

Join us as we continue the discussion through a series of posts that explores the intersection of contemporary culture and Catholicism.  Coming up, a look at The Hobbit and what it means (or does not mean) for Catholics.