Recently I, your friendly neighborhood self-appointed Bishop of the CTB, took my wife to see Les Miserables.
Note I added the statement “took my wife”. This was my attempt to preserve some semblance of old school, Mad Men masculinity. But we are beyond pretense now. Right? We know each other well enough to be completely honest and vulnerable. So I’m gonna take off my mask and admit it. I love musicals. When no one is around I will crank up some Les Mis and sing that bitch all the way through. In my kitchen, when I’m alone, I will play all the characters: Val Jean, Javert, Eponine, Cosette, Gavroche – it don’t matter. I’m the whole cast. “One Day More” becomes a fuckin’ solo. My “Empty Chairs” would make you weep. Seriously. You would cry when face off if you were to hear my awesomeness.
I ain’t scared to real up in here. I love me some musicals.
And Les Mis has always been my favorite. I’ve seen it on stage three times. One Christmas when I was in High School my mom bought me a copy of the 25th Anniversary recording on CD, and I wore that bitch out. I sang the shit out that thing.
So I was worried about the new movie version. Wolverine as Jean Val Jean? Maximus Decimus Meridius as Javert? Cat Woman as Fantine? Friends, I was uncertain. I was afraid they were going to destroy something I love. But I was relieved because it rocked. If you haven’t seen it, you should. Even if you aren’t a musical dork like me. Sure Russel Crow sings like he has cotton in his mouth, but it’s all good. We still love you Russel. When Anne shaves her head, sings “Don’t they know they are sleeping with someone who is already dead”, and then the man flips her over into the coffin – dam. Seriously. Dam. Again, I ain’t scared to admit it. I cried at that scene like a little baby. That was some heart breaking shit.
Now a lot of people are going to tell you the primary metaphor of Les Mis is Law vs. Grace. Inspector Javert, who lives by a religious adherence to rituals and rules is contrasted to Val Jean, who freely forgives and wildly sacrifices for the betterment of others. The metaphor is definitely there in the story, and it is great. I’m not denying that. But for a city like Baltimore that is plagued by generational poverty, Law vs. Grace is not the most important metaphor of the movie; and Javert vs. Val Jean is not the philosophical battle we should pay attention to.
Rather I would encourage you as you watch to ponder to the metaphor of the barricade and the debate of two side characters: Enjolras and Grantaire.
The world of Les Mis is a rough one. There is a massive separation between the upper and lower classes of society. Economic mobility for someone born into poverty was near impossible. The life of the poor was not about future success, but rather present survival. We see this best in the story line of Fantine. Once she loses her job she is forced to sell her humanity to survive and provide for her child. The world of Les Mis is one where for the poor dreams, future, and hope go to die.
Now don’t get me wrong, inner city Baltimore is no where near as dark and disastrous as 1830’s France; but there are some similarities in how economic status effects a person’s future. For example, if a kid in Baltimore is born into and/or raised by an economically middle to upper class family, that kid is much more likely to go to college, secure an upwardly mobile job, and live in relative financial security than a kid born into and/or raised by a family of lower economic status. On the flip side, a kid raised in a lower economic area is much more likely to witness violent crime, be pressured to join a gang, or experience Baltimore’s drug culture up close and personal. (If you want to learn more about how economic status – especially generational poverty – works as a future sucking death trap I recommend “A Framework for Understanding Poverty” by Ruby Payne. The book is not perfect…but it is a simple read and a good place to start.) Bottom line in both Les Mis and Baltimore, hope for the future is more difficult for people living in poverty. And poverty is a self-perpetuating cycle that is astoundingly difficult to escape.
And here is where the barricade comes into play. In the middle of Les Mis we meet several young men of wealth in a cafe who recognize the injustice of the world around them. One of those men, Enjorlas charges the group to risk everything and take a stand for change. Another of those men, Grantaire, loves the comradery of the moment, but isn’t fully sold on the whole “sacrifice” part. The two characters have a quick exchange in the song “Red and Black” when Grantaire attempts to distract the group from Enjorlas speech by drawing attention to Marius’ love sickness. Enjorlas calls the group back with the lyrics: “It is time for us all to decide who we are. Do we fight for a right at the opera now? Have you asked of yourselves what’s the price you might pay? Is it simply a game for rich your boys to play? The color of the world is changing day by day.”
The barricade is their line in the sand. It is these young men’s declaration that they will no longer accept the world as it is – even if change costs them their very lives. It’s an amazing image of those who have nothing to gain sacrificing everything for those who are powerless to throw off the oppressive chains of poverty. The question of Enjorlas is one Baltimore forces us each to ask. We must decide who we are. Is it enough to recognize the problems of our city and complain about them into our beers, or will we stand and do something about them.
And where will your barricade rise? My wife and I are part of a public charter school because education is where we have decided to invest everything. But there are other places draw your line in the sand. You can join the fight seeking to bring an end to homelessness, or sex trafficking, or addiction, or urban blight. Never fear, there is no shortage of battles going on in B-more. Ya get ya pick.
This is why I love Les Miserables. You see CTB friends, there are sadly few narratives that speak truth into the world and call us to be more than we are; but Les Mis is one them. If you haven’t see it, go and watch it. And as you munch on your pop-corn and mourn Russel Crow’s cotton mouth think of Baltimore when the question is asked:
Will you join in our crusade? Who will be strong and stand with me? Somewhere beyond the barricade is there a world you long to see?