There is something indescribably satisfying about completing a 1463 page classic novel in 16 days; a novel by which your entire range of emotions was not merely placated, but was accosted right and left by the most heinous of extremes. Les Miserables has left me with impressions and emotional memories that I believe I will not soon forget. On the one hand, there was the misery (hence the name) that was indigenous to almost every major character. Victor Hugo did a remarkable job of describing the totality of sorrow that a person could endure, which in fact was the result of the love of one or more persons. To read about love leading to such sadness for the one who's loving...it goes beyond my ability to comprehend. It's the ultimate sacrifice; to give up your existence (but continue to live) so that another can have a normal life. Words fail me.
Then there was the happiness, which I'll be honest, I was surprised to read about. I thought the entire book would be about sad people; you can't have sad without happy, though. Hugo did an incredible job at describing the pure joy and ecstasy inherent to certain moments. I found myself almost weeping, well crying, well tearing up, at both the sorrowful and joyful events. This is probably one of only two books that has ever moved me to the point of actual tearing up, I don't mind telling you. Unfortunately, I can't name the other one, but that's beside the point.
It's 12:38a on Tuesday, June 17, 2007, and I didn't want to wait until morning to write my first impressions upon completion. I may have to read it again in just a few months. That's how incredible it is to me. Welcome to the book at the top of my list. More to follow.
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