St. Denis
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My thoughts on Part Four of Les Miserables
Maybe it is a bit shallow and unliterary of me to come away from St. Denis and only have the story of my own marriage on my mind, but that’s the truth of it. How can you read what has become a nearly epic love story and not think of your own? Call it what Hugo does, The Stupefaction of Complete Happiness, and then maybe you can forgive me for getting wrapped up in the romance of it all and not caring for the extensive history, the depth of the literature, and all the rest of it.
“From time to time Marius’ knee touched Cossette’s knee, which gave them both a thrill.” – Book Fifth
Do you remember that? That feeling like a shock, but so much gentler, when the object of your affection makes contact; the feeling incredibly enhanced when that person loves you back… Do you remember?
I met my husband when I was fourteen, my freshman year of high school. He was old for our grade and already fifteen. By the time I was fifteen too, I was sitting next to him at lunch our sophomore year, just friends but wondering desperately if he would ever want more. In those days, I thought a knee knock or a hand graze was everything. Come to find out, it was nothing compared to him taking my hand to walk me down the hall later that year. Or even much later – years later – when he would hold just my pinky finger under a blanket in college because we were under orders from my then boyfriend not to hold hands. We were best friends by then and the idea of not holding hands with my best friends was excruciating. That same evening he leaned in and whispered in my ear, “I’ll always love you,” and then some blithering nonsense about my boyfriend and the direction of our lives.
Things changed then. Obviously that (very awesome and dear to me) boyfriend didn’t last as a boyfriend, and I finally knew what I had wanted to know all along: my best friend was my truest love.
Our first year as a couple at my 3rd degree black belt test.
The innocent but thrilling touches didn’t end there, we spent an entire summer trying to ease my parents into the idea that he was around. I neither confirmed nor denied that he was my boyfriend – at twenty I didn’t think it was any of their business – but during the school term we were in different cities so we wanted to take advantage of the time we did have. It was like a Jane Austen novel in my head, something like Jane Fairfax and Frank Churchill: catching glances across the room, brushing knuckles and fingertips in the hall. Sneaking a whisper and a kiss when no one was in the room.
“What passed between these two beings? Nothing. They were adoring each other.” – Book Eighth
Apparently, I have thing for secrets, because that was nearly the entirety of all my relationships, relishing in the act of not letting anyone know. The difference this time is I was dying to scream it from the roof tops: One day I will be Mrs. Jonathan Klemm!
As for complete happiness, it is still had. We fight and argue – after all, we are married- but at the end of the day, at the end of it all, I can snuggle up in the crook of my love’s arm and hold his hand. He will rub his thumb against mine, lean down and kiss my forehead, and all is well again. The thrill of the small and innocent touches still there – after all, we are married.
Skip to my next Les Miserables post.
Anakalian Whims 
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November 9, 2012 at 7:02 pm
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thoughtsontheatre said,
November 9, 2012 at 10:06 pm
Your love story sounds like one to rival many. Good for you for noticing that it is something to be cherished.
Anakalian Whims said,
November 10, 2012 at 6:47 am
I am definitely in as much love with my love story as I am with my husband. 🙂
biblioglobal said,
November 9, 2012 at 11:47 pm
It’s interesting to me that you find the love story in Les Miserables so compelling. I love the book, but I didn’t like the Marius-Cosette romance at all. I enjoyed reading your love story though!
Anakalian Whims said,
November 10, 2012 at 6:46 am
I don’t doubt that my mood had a hand in that. It was one of my extra swoony days.
biblioglobal said,
November 10, 2012 at 2:26 pm
Fair enough. I definitely get different things out of books depending on when I read them.