So, is it just me or is Valjean, in a way, sort of the embodiment of what society expects women to be vis-à-vis their children? Men are allowed to have lives, but women are supposed to be mothers first and foremost; if they have no children, they are criticized, and if they have them but have the audacity to have lives outside of them or, God forbid, prioritize their career over them, they are excoriated—never mind that it is seen as normal for a father to spend a lot of time at work or otherwise outside the home. A side effect of having no life outside of your children (to put it crassly) is that when they leave the nest, you have nothing to do and no purpose. Is it just me, or did Valjean sort of fulfill that societal expectation, making it just that more tragic and insolite because he’s a man? Think about it; we know he’s capable of amazing feats outside the home. He’s been laborer, entrepreneur, mayor, philanthropist and rescuer; when necessary, he’s also been an escape artist and master of disguise; he’s fulfilled his potential and more. Even as a prisoner he was a legend; starting from the Champmathieu affair onwards, he starts becoming a saint. And yet when Cosette is in his charge, she becomes his entire world; everything he does it either for her, or to redeem himself for his prior “sins” (Petit-Gervais, etc.). So when she leaves, he dies; that is, after all, what is says on his tombstone.
Now, I know his relationship with Cosette is more than a simple father-daughter relationship, and that this trope becomes much less feminine-coded when it shifts into romantic territory—men die of a broken heart for female love interests all the time in literature. But given that the role he is most conscious of, and which is most visible to the world, is that of caretaker, he appears—at least to the outside world—to be an all-sacrificing parent like Fantine. The difference is that Fantine fits into a common narrative; Valjean breaks the mold a bit, since as a man he is allowed, and expected, to have a life outside of Cosette. And, of course he does; but the feats he does are feats for her, just as much as Fantine’s sacrifices were.
Yesss I KNEW someone had made a good post about this Back in The Day!
–Men who assume a “motherly” or (by contemporary-to-Hugo- standards) “womanly” devotion to a child or ward in their care seem to be quite the returning theme with Hugo, though how the narrative treats them varies greatly. I think it applies to both Radoub(with Michelle’s kids) and Cimmourdain (towards Gauvain) and and Frollo (towards Jehan, not towards Quasimodo or Gringoire) to different degrees.
…I’m not sure we get an entirely “fatherly” father figure –that is, properly showing real paternal care but ONLY the sort of care that would be expected from a father– until Mess. Lethierry in Toilers of the Sea (and I don’t yet know what the Family Feelings situation is in The Man Who Laughs!), who loves his niece Deruchette but really defines himself by his work as a sailor and ship-owner, to the point of actually not noticing the moment she leaves because he’s busy with work–an unthinkable attitude for Valjean, who remembers the details of his jewelry career only because he hopes to protect Cosette’s prosperity.
(…has anyone made an in-depth study and analysis of father figures in Hugo’s work? I haven’t stumbled across one, but that doesn’t mean anything.)
@pilferingapples
In The Man Who Laughs, Gwynplaine is described in “motherly” terms when he finds Dea when they’re both kids (he’s only a few years older), but they later fall in love.
They also share an adoptive father figure:
“Ursus had been, in his relations with Gwynplaine and Dea, almost a father and a mother. Grumbling all the while, he had brought them up.”
Published
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