Les Miserables [Hardcover]

When a publisher announces the first unabridged translation of a world classic in over a hundred years, one has to get excited. But then you see it is by the same Julie Rose who recently mangled Dumas' LE CHEVALIER DE MAISON-ROUGE. Ms. Rose makes so many obvious mistakes in LES MISERABLES that one really doubts her fluency in French. But more seriously (!), it is her approach to the craft of translation that is really the problem. Ms. Rose is of the hip and groovy school. Nineteenth century peasants should of course sound like Paris Hilton. This makes the book less "stuffy" and more palatable to the "general reader". For example Hugo's Tholomyès is "un viveur de trente ans, mal conservé"; that is, a bon vivant of thirty, in bad shape. Rose's is "a totally wasted high roller of thirty". The MTV phrase "totally wasted" would be bad enough, but then she has to throw in another anachronistic expression "high roller". This means a serious gambler, not the same thing at all.

And she constantly adds phrases and even sentences of her own devising. For example, one sentence could be literally translated: "She (i.e. the City) does so through her entrails, that is to say, her sewers". Rose has: "By means of what organ? By means of its bowels. What do you mean, its bowels? Its sewers." This isn't Hugo and it's dreadful.

Graham Robb, the biographer of Hugo, found numerous serious errors in this translation incl. that the Duke of Clarence was drowned in a butt of malmsey ("une tonne de malvoisie"), rather than Rose's ridiculous "a tun of marsala" and that the "sacre" of Charles X was his coronation not his "consecration". Marius was not "fierce" with pretty girls (Rose) but "shy" ("farouche"). And on and on. An amateur but arrogant production all the way, and a real disgrace.

The original Wilbour translation, which was quite respectable, was revised and corrected by Lee Fahnestock and Norman MacAffe for Signet some years ago. It is still available and is by every standard superior.

Many years ago, while commuting from Scotch Plains to Manhattan and back, I made use of my commute time to read some very big books. Some, like Larry McMurty's LONESOME DOVE, were magisterial in story, setting and character. Some were Dumas' THE COUNT OF MONTE CRISTO (a killer of a tale). And then there was LES MISERABLES.

I was 26 years old and had never read such a sprawling narrative that commanded my attention like a murder mystery. Jean Valjean was Everyman, and so Hugo's heart touched mine. I read his prose like someone starving for inspiration and story, and read both. As I recall, I read the Penguin edition, circa 1984. It was stirring, clear, compelling.The dialogue doetailed beautifully between the French idiom and American English.

I never saw the musical of the same name, but respect those who did.

Then Julie Rose's version was published, and after reading snippets of some pivotal chapters, I had to purchase a copy, and I'm thrilled I did. Rose's translation is more arresting than the version I read so many years ago, than those I've examined since. Some translators don't "get" idiomatic phrases in a source language, and so much of what we say to one another is idiomatic, and cannot be translated literally.

Rose understands both the idiom and the importance of immediacy in THE Romantic novel of the modern Western canon. Jean Valjean's story is one of fateful coincidence, loss, fear, grief and redemption. Hugo's sub-plots are extensive and yet, unlike the Russian masters, he weaves these into the central narrative seamlessly.

If you love political suspense, mystery, romance, and an author's sheer ability to tell a very long story and give it wings, please purchase this version. Rose will not disappoint you, and at roughly one-third off retail,the posted price barely buys two movie tickets.

Reading LES MISERABLES is one of the only experiences that made New Jersey Transit tolerable in those days. And on those late nights when the loneliness of the Port Authority became overwhelming, Hugo's masterpiece took me to another place.

I cannot write about this book with critical authority, only to say I loved it. I cannot recommend this translation on the basis of scholarly training, because I never received in in this field.

But I know what I like, and Rose's translation is a smash.

As for the size of the book, buy an extra pillow and settle back. You won't regret it.

I recently listened to an excellent Radio Theatre production of this incredible story, which inspired me to pick up the book again. I read it during High School, loved it, then saw the musical, and loved it even more. It has been several years now, so I decided that now would be a good time to re-visit this classic story which made such an impression on me when I was fifteen.

I went back to my local library and borrowed the same copy I read as a teenager, an antique book originally published in 1915 and translated by Isabel F. Hapgood. One afternoon, I was browsing through Barnes and Nobles when I came upon this copy. I was instantly grabbed by the art on the jacket binding of this beautiful hardcover version, and I grew even more interested when I learned that it was a new translation by a woman named Julie Rose. I compared several sections with the older version, and was struck by how much more I liked the newer one. For instance, here is an excerpt from a conversation between Jean Valjean and the ragamuffin, Gavroche:

Hapgood (1915):
"The letter is for Madamoiselle Cosette, is it not?"
Cosette," muttered Gavroche. "Yes, I believe that is the queer name."
"Well," resumed Jean Valjean, "I am to person to whom you are to deliver the letter. Give it here."
Gavroche held the paper elevated above his head.
"Don't go and fancy it's a love letter. It's for a woman, but it's for the people. We men fight and we respect the fair sex. We are not as they are in fine society, where there are lions who send chickens to camels."
"Give it to me."
"After all," continued Gavroche, "you have the air of an honest man."
"Give it to me quick."
"Catch hold of it." And he handed the paper to Jean Valjean. "And make haste, Monsieur What's-your-name, for Mamselle Cosette is waiting." Gavroche was satisfied with himself for having produced this remark.

Rose (2008):
"The letter's for Mademoiselle Cosette, isn't it?"
"Cosette?" growled Gavroche. "Yes, I think it's some funny name like that."
"Well, then," Jean Valjean went on, "I'm the one who's supposed to hand her the letter. Give it to me."
Gavroche held the note up above his head. "Don't go getting the idea that it's a love letter. It's for a woman, but it's for the people. We men, we're fighting men, and we respect the sex. We're not like in high society where there are nobs who send sweet nothings to slack cows."
"Give it to me."
"Actually," Gavroche continued, "you look to me to be a good sort of geezer."
"Give it to me quick."
"Take it." And he handed Jean Valjean the note. "And get a move on, Monsieur Thingummyjig, because Mamselle Thingummyjig is waiting."
Gavroche was very pleased with himself for having come up with this line.

Rose's version sounds closer to what a street urchin such as Gavroche would have said. Another example: Instead of Madame Thénardier saying, "How easily children get acquainted at once!" she says, "Kids! See how well they get on already!" Isabel F. Hapgood calls the Thénardiers "unprepossessing figures" and Julie Rose calls them "shady characters." The second word choice paints a much better mind picture for the modern reader.

Another advantage for the modern reader: this translation is more understandable. For instance, this is what the doctor says as he considers the possibility of a miraculous recovery for Fantine:

Hapgood (1915):
"There are crises so astounding; great joy has been known to arrest maladies; I know well that this is an organic disease and in an advanced state, but all those things are such mysteries: we may be able to save her."

Rose (2008):
"There are some amazing recoveries, great joy has been seen to put an end to disease. I know this one is an organic disease and fairly well advanced, but it's all such a mystery, all that! Perhaps we will save her, after all."

Aside from giving the reader an arresting, clearer understanding of the text, Julie Rose also provides more of Hugo's original novel than ever before. In her preface, she explains how often other translators would omit "offensive" content or "useless" details, and that, to her knowledge, she is "one of the few translators to have rendered all of Hugo's magnificent novel without censorship." Because of this, Les Miserables has finally been presented in an English version closer to what Victor Hugo originally intended.

So on my second read, I am not only reading more carefully because of my love for the characters, but I am also looking at them as though through a new, clearer, prescription of glasses. For that, I am very grateful to Julie Rose. This is a book I will treasure for years to come.

p.s. I would also highly recommend the dramatized audiobook I mentioned at the beginning of my review. Here is the link: http://www.amazon.com/Mis%C3%A9rables-Radio-Theatre-Victor-Hugo/dp/1589973941/ref=sr_1_8?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1229374558&sr=1-8. It's a gripping, faithful interpretation of this classic.

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