Biography

[b]The Fires of Dawn[/b][br /]
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The Revolution of 1798 kicked off the beginning of a new era. This happened at every level; be it politics or society or art or literature. In fact, the undercurrent of the Revolution networked all these. It metamorphosed them in a new 'movement' : in arts and aesthetics, its repercussions impressing individuals and society at large.[br /]
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The pre-Revolutionary France, with its social disquiet, was not without revolutionary spirit. Yet love made its way through. Joseph Leopold Hugo, gallant and a Bonapartist fell in love with Sophie, a lovely fair lady with lovelier tastes in arts. They married. Sophie bore three sons - Eugène, Victor and Abèl. Victor was born on February 26, 1802, in Besançon, NE France. He was week but survived, for he would lead the literary future of France, he would create a whole new genre by his writings.[br /]
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The father's military missions made the family move from post to post, including stints in Italy and Spain. Sophie resented this lifestyle. She did not want to subject the little Hugos to the perils of a gypsy like existence in accordance with Joseph's duties. The mother in her wanted to be stationed in one place and raise the boys. She stayed at home. Joseph remained out doors most of the time. The General, with his professional goals, could not strike a rapport with his personal life. His physical absence resulted in hostility. The love affair had no 'love' in it any more and an unfortunate intimacy developed between Sophie and General Lahorie, Joseph's former Commanding Officer. Meanwhile, Joseph too took up with a local nurse, Catherine Thomas.[br /]
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The father and the young Hugos, especially Victor, admired Napoleon. Joseph called him a 'mamaman' and Victor loved his mother a lot. Young Victor wandered a lot due to his father's military upsurges and parental confrontations. But he and his brothers utilized these wanderings; observed the kaleidoscopic world. Victor had been through many places : Corsica, Paris, Italy, and Spain. He had a first hand experiences of the world.[br /]
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[b]Outdoors[/b][br /]
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Victor saw the beauty of life and also witnessed the hazards of war. This memory would make a beautiful combination with the present later.[br /]
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From time to time, the Hugo brothers remained with their father. Their parents had decided to separate since Sophie had discovered the husband's liaison with the nurse but the divorce was yet to be filed. The cold war between the parents ended with their untimely separation when Victor was 16.[br /]
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His childhood impressions contained horrors of the death penalty, an obsession with torture and hanging. Victor loved gardens, and flowers like buttercups, daisies, periwinkles.He saw rats preying on birds, birds on insects and insects on each other. He indulged in cruel amusements, 'catching bumble-bees in the hollyhocks by suddenly closing the flower upon them.' The world of universal slaughter set his

precocious beingarticulating. He was already inquisitive and restless, an easy prey to enthusiasm. These activities and the itineraries he undertook set his imagination afloat. His childhood was in this way a mixture of the grotesque and the sublime.[br /]
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[b]Alma Mater[/b][br /]
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The moods of parents kept the school at bay, but natural genius found its way, exploiting the adverse circumstances into his favor. How free, wise, smart enough he was to have a system of education without any rules ! He had a lovely and a poetic time. No conventional schooling with constraints at every move. He was still a disciplined son and his mother inspired the Hugo brothers to read. She nurtured an avid fondness for poetry and sharpened their genius. They developed singular respect for the written word. They were well bred because of their mother's efforts.[br /]
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Madame Hugo exercised an effortless control over the creative development of her sons. Hence they, at times, tried their hands at verse. Victor expressed things in classical rhythms. He read it aloud and self-corrected. He knew no prosody and by trial he learnt the elements of meter, rhythm, rhyme, caesura etc.[br /]
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He loved his mother but his father was his role model. He too, hated tyranny. Neither of the parents wanted to a break away from the children. In this fight, sometimes the father won and sometimes the mother. In 1814, their father boarded them out of Paris, to a boarding school, in Santé-Marguerite.[br /]
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[b]The Little Napoleon[/b][br /]
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The boarding school was like a dismal purgatory after a beautiful childhood. At the Alma Mater the Hugos sprang into action. They stole the limelight by heading two groups. They met at evenings, organized dramas, not unaware of the parallel political scene. Just like the Bonaparte brothers shared Europe, Hugo brothers shared their platforms in school. Trained from an early age in the virtues of ancient Rome, brought up in the shadows of French victories, they had a healthy appetite for glory. Victor wrote a drama where he played Napoleon himself. It was just a theatrical pretence but in real life also his enthusiasm did not diminish. Years passed at the school.[br /]
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Eugene was a good elder brother cum a comrade. But Victor displayed his talent in poetry and won compliments from teachers and peers at a young age. Gradually, the comradeship turned into rivalry. Reality bit Eugene. He hated the junior. He shut himself up in the boarding premises during the summer holidays in 1817.[br /]
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On the other hand Victor met his brother Abel, now into business. Victor attended a literary banquet at Abel's, where they read out their compositions. Victor caught attention and became a regular diner, writing more and more for the purpose. The warfare between Victor and Eugene reached its height when they fell in love with the same woman. They left their boarding school in August 1818 and were with their mother.[br /]
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Victor's venture as an artist happened during this period. He entered a poetry writing contest. The subject was 'On the replacing of the statue of Henry IV.' Victor busied himself, not in writing but in nursing his bronchitis-struck mother. Victor loved art but he loved his mother more. Sophie too loved to be in the caring hands but she loved the artist in him more. She was miserable since Victor had no time to pen down and submit the poem. Victor sensed it and composed the verse overnight! It was an academic exercise wherein Victor exhibited a fine balance between the content and form. He won. They gave him a Golden Lily because he had defeated many entrants. They included big heads like Alphonse de Lamartine, a poet 10 years senior to Victor. They were wonder struck. A member of the Toulouse Academy (a reputed bench of contemporary poets in Paris), Alexandre Soumet, appreciated this talent, "…If the Academy shares my feelings, I sure will have insufficient crowns for … at your 17 years … you are for us a riddle to which only the Muses hold the key."[br /]
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The next year events took a sensational turn. Madame Hugo passed away due to pneumonia.[br /]
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Victor was every inch a poet. He always carried a notebook with him to jot down ideas. He held tremendous power to fuse dramatic intensity into every day events. He wrote an ode when the Due de Berry was assassinated. On reading it, tears streamed down the eyes of the old Louis XVIII. He presented Victor with a gratuity of 500 francs.[br /]
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The march towards success had begun. He was just 25 when he had bagged the great Golden Amaranth for an 'Ode on the Birth of the King of Rome.' Victor matched his expression with the changing times and régimes. When the King of France took over, Victor rolled out a composition : 'Eulogy of Louis XVI.'[br /]
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France had been busy, between 1789 to 1815 in vendettas and that is why the literary mills froze during the period. Victor chanced to meet a group of people in Paris; all in their 30s. They were Catholics, monarchists and writers from the middle class. They were quite traditional, yet had forums where they talked about Goethe, Byron, Schiller and Chateaubriand, writers from Germany and England. Young writers in Paris dreamt of a 'new movement in poetry'! Victor entered these forums. He was a novice. But others, seniors, felt his presence. They took this dear colleague seriously. He published another ode, this time dedicated to Chateaubriand, Victor's model poet, a Peer of France, an Ambassador, a person whose royal road Victor wanted to follow and to obtain this peerage, membership to Acadèmie Francaise was necessary. He could not take it all in a stride yet Paris took notice. [br /]
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[b]"I Love You"[/b][br /]
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Two black, glittering eyes watched him mount the ladder of success. It was Adèle Foucher, Victor's childhood chum. He used to offer her his chestnut swings in Italy. They had played together, all three of them - Eugène, Victor and Adèle.[br /]
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It happened on April 26, 1819, under the chestnuts, when she said : 'You must have secrets : have you not one that is greater than the rest ?'[br /]

He agreed that he had.[br /]

'So have I,' said she : 'Tell me your great secret, and I will tell you mine.'[br /]

'My great secret,' replied Victor, 'is that I love you.'[br /]

'And mine, that I love you,' said Adèle. [br /]

Dramatic, romantic, naïve lovers wooed each other since then. In December, the same year, Victor wrote a poem for her, 'Premier Soupir' asking for 12 kisses in return ! She promised, but later haggled and gave him just four. Surroundings were abuzz with gossips on their love affair. They were madly in love. Finally after a long period of courtship, the lovers married on October 12, 1822. Eugène was madly jealous that his brother would marry Adèle. He tried to embitter the relations between them to a terrific extent. Victor forgave him. The night when Victor married, Eugène's insanity reached an extreme. Victor, in the arms of the woman of his choice, did not know this.[br /]
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In the meantime Victor also edited periodical Le Conservateur Littèraire, run by Abèl, Eugène and himself. He learnt a lot during his tenure as an editor. These years mark a decisive period in his life: love, politics, independence, chivalry, religion, poverty, poetry, fame happened to the 'sublime child,' as called by the famous contemporary poet, Chateaubriand.[br /]
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Victor was out of touch with his father. After mother's demise, he re-established communication with the kind General. Since the General wanted his son to pursue a career in Law, Victor informed the General about his interests in a literary career. He understood it, agreed. The father himself liked poetry and wrote poetry too. Victor sent him his odes sometimes. Joseph praised them, criticized them in a somewhat simple-minded and school-masterly fashion. Affection between them was restored. They shared anxiety about Eugène's health. Eugène suffered from pangs of violent abnormal behavior after losing the mother. He detested Victor and his poetry. He also hated his father.[br /]
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What a long road he had traveled in a single year ! At 20, he was well on the way to fame. The king and public read his works and the Government gave him a pension. He stood high in the esteem of his fellow poets. He had regained his father's love and chosen his favorite career.[br /]
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[b]The Transformation[/b][br /]
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Between 1826 and 1829, Hugo worked hard. His journey, interactions with peers, the study of the poets of 16th century, his taste for Scottish and German ballads inspired him a lot. He composed many fantasies, Guitares, as he called them. Political or religious content of his writings mattered little to him now. Victor had changed. He was far from the theory he had maintained in 1824, that all poetry must be monarchist or Christian. This was mere mirage now. The output throughout these years was:[br /]
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Odes et Ballades (1826)[br /]

Cromwell (1827)[br /]

Les Orientales (1829)[br /]
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An article appeared in Globe, a journal notorious for its rough attitude to writers. To every one's shock, the critic, Sainte-Beuve had a word of praise for Victor's work. Victor befriended the young critic, Sainte-Beuve, who on meeting him turned into his disciple. Exchanging ideas with Hugo gave him illuminating glimpses in his technical know how on verse.[br /]
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[b]The making of Cromwell[/b][br /]
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The making of Cromwell took a year. Victor read everything he could lay his hands on the life of Oliver Cromwell. He had retained his schoolboy liking for the stage. He brought it out with a reading of Cromwell to his friends. It was a huge success but fetched harsh criticisms too.[br /]
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The high-spirited comedy of certain scenes, the newness of the vocabulary, the Shakespearean gaiety of the Four Fools made it an irresistible tragi-comedy that deserved the stage.[br /]
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[b]Burning of his Boats![/b][br /]
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Victor shook the world with a preface to Cromwell. He wrote it after the play. It was a deliberate act, a burning of his boats. The stupid adherence to the classic school irritated him and he rebelled against them through the written word. He was neither a classical writer nor a romantic one. He created his own brand of Romanticism. He stood out. The son of a General commanded attention from France.[br /]
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The domestic scene had also changed by now. Victor had had children; three sons. He had lost his father on January 28, 1828. He loved him, missed him more. Times changed rapidly. Hugo was 30. He suffered from doubts, both political and religious. In his poems of 1829, one can feel that. Victor was well off now. He had cashed on his talent. He lived in a fine house with a large garden. Having spent his youth in a financial stringency, he attached great importance to the easy circumstances that could guarantee a writer's freedom. 'I want to make, and spend, 15,000 franks a year.' - was an outlandish ambition. Hugo never ran into any debts. He finely balanced his revenues with his expenses.[br /]
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Hugo explored the Paris of Louis XI thoroughly. (Its spiral staircases, mysterious closets hollowed out of the stones, its inscriptions, both ancient and modern). He had examined, felt and swallowed every nook and cranny of the cathedral. He hoped that the book would be historically correct. But the end product was an amalgamation of imagination, whim and fancy. The book had a marked influence on French architecture. Hugo was clever at loving or hating inanimate objects and he exercised it here. The book enthralled all. The story of a priest eaten up by desire and sensually enslaved by a gypsy girl shook them. Hugo was breaking free of all the rigid constraints.[br /]
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He developed a brooding look. Imagination met introspection. Hugo once wrote that he had four selves :[br /]
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'Olympio', the lyric poet;[br /]

'Hermann', the lover;[br /]

'Maglia', laughter;[br /]

'Hierro', the combative spirit.[br /]
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Hugo admitted that he loved fights but while fighting, he needed to feel supported. True friends were becoming rare. Sainte-Beuve was there but he lacked goodwill.[br /]
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[b]Juliette[/b][br /]
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It was time to fall in love once again. Victor met this actress who was to be his mistress for the next 50 years and the most loyal one too. She never lived more than walking distance away from him and wrote at least one letter to him every day.[br /]
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Victor toured a lot in her company. Their trips were poetic and passionate. She gave Victor the best moments of his life. She adored the poet in him, a thing that Adèle never did. Juliette played an important role in Victor's life. She copied his manuscripts. In every walk of life, she was with Victor. Gradually, this paved way to another extramarital affair, between Adèle and Sainte-Beuve, Victor's critic friend who took full advantage of Hugo's absence.[br /]
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Interestingly, Adèle had a heart to accept the husband's affair since she did not want to deprive him of anything. She knew she was aging. The content and devoted wife wanted only peace of mind and Sainte-Beuve filled the vacuum in her life. On the other hand, Juliette, who had a crown on her head, displayed jealousy.[br /]
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Hugo had forgotten his dear children in the company of the fair lady, Juliette. Round about 1840, the father inside him returned. He kept an eye on the boys' schoolwork, especially their Latin. He felt proud when his younger boy won a prize for a Latin composition. He had a toast with his family. He helped the boys to build a brushwood hut, to Dédé, his elder daughter, to tend her rabbits and chickens, and looked with loving eyes at Léopoldine. He loved her. He recalled the times past; when he wanted to be first in marriage and in fatherhood and in poetry as well. Life was wheeling past fast and discords had multiplied. Hugo served his turn as the Director of the Acadèmie Francaise. The gain of a position again synchronized with the arrival of pain. His dearest daughter, Léopoldine, whom he called 'Didine' and 'Doll' with love, married. The father and daughter were very close. With a sad heart, they waved a good-bye.[br /]
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In 1842, despite oppositions from Adéle, Juliette had her dose of annual happiness. Victor took her en tour through the southwest of France and to Spain, which tickled Victor's memories of childhood. He could overcome the grief of his daughter's departure to a new family life. [br /]
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[b]From Poetry to Politics[/b][br /]
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In 1843, this dear daughter was drowned. Victor was crestfallen. He took to agonized brooding, incapable to work. He turned to politics in 1845. King Louis Philippe made him a Peer of France but by the time of 1848 Revolution, Hugo was a republican again.[br /]
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February 1848, France. Liberals and Republicans demanded electoral reforms. Revolution was in the air, yet Victor looked upon the troubled waters with the detachment of an artist. It did not interest him. He was more of a sociologist than the parliamentarian. He saw riots in the streets.[br /]
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Two years, 1850-51 was a period of political battles and emotional upheaval. He had given brilliant speeches during that period. It had gained him enough popularity. But Hugo had changed. "Five years ago, I was on the point of becoming favorite of the king. Today, I am on the point of becoming the favorite of the people." At this point Victor Hugo voiced his indignation in an excellent speech. His demands being; free education at every stage, obligatory education at the lowest, separation of Church and State to the benefit of both. He wanted to do away with poverty in world. Hugo here emerged as the voice of humanity's conscience.[br /]
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In 1851, after an unsuccessful revolt against President Louis Napoleon, later Emperor Napoleon III, Hugo fled to Belgium. In 1855, a 15-year-long exile on the island of Guernsey began.[br /]
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[b]Fruits of Exile[/b][br /]
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Exile brought salvation. The revolution of 1848 had given him an opportunity to try his abilities as a poet legislator. The truth that he was unsuited to a parliamentary career had dawned upon him. He lacked skills in party intrigues. In exile, he recovered inner peace. He felt pleased with himself. Since he was an outlaw, his property and furniture etc. were likely to be seized. But the Government had no intention of making itself ridiculous by persecuting a great poet. Adèle found no difficulty in collecting her husband's royalties from he Society of Authors, and his salary as a Member of the Institute. She was even granted facilities for sending him 3000 francs in French State Bonds. Prudent Hugo, a shrewd capitalist, at once transformed it into stock of the Banque Royale de Belgique![br /]
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Meanwhile Adèle kept him informed about the march of events.[br /]
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Before his exile at Guernsey, Hugo had settled in Jersey in 1852. Days of work, days of happiness. Never Hugo had written with such freedom, such power and such ease. He pursued the policy of silence. No more sessions of the Academy, no more debates in the Assembly. He published Les Chatiments to great acclaim in 1853. He composed Les Contemplations, in which philosophic pieces rubbed shoulders with the lovely verses addressed to his daughter and Juliette. No one knew what sort of a welcome would the works of this rebellious poet receive. Les Contemplations was published in 1856. The first edition of it was exhausted on the day of publication! Critics kept their fingers crossed but lovers of poetry found some of the most beautiful lines ever written in French here. The material success was not less than the artistic. With the 20,000 francs' royalty, only from this book, Victor bought a huge property, entirely paid out of Les Contemplations.[br /]
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In his creations, accurate seeing of the real alternated with confused reveries in which scarcely discernible forms floated before his eyes. His favorite adjectives formed his universe - effaré, fauve, sinister, blème, funèbre, difforme, fantastique, livide, hagard, tènèbreux, spectral. In an enveloping darkness, he caught glimpses of the ghosts of vanished centuries, of the walls of cities now no more, of the marching columns of armies dead and gone, of prehistoric monsters and primitive forests and of a world still wet from the flood.[br /]
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[b]Les Misèrables[/b][br /]
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For 30 years, Victor Hugo had been working at this sociological novel. He had amassed notes that he wanted to compile now: Les Misères, the story of a saint - the story of a man - the story of a woman - the story of a doll. It was one more expression of the spirit of the times. He drew from his own experiences. Juliette copied the book. It was a source of delight for her. She adored it. Juliette was a sure tower of strength through this period. On publication, the book shook the world. Critics praised the writer, but snubbed the philosopher, very bitterly. They condemned the digressions in this literary marvel. 'Too much philosophy slows down and injures the movement of the narrative', they opined.[br /]
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Time has now delivered its verdict! Les Misèrables has become an excellent piece of the human imagination, with its fictional characters with a universal appeal. Even the screen has adapted the novel, and brought Hugo's persons to us. It proved Flaubert and Baudelaire, the contemporary critics wrong, who had said about the characters : 'they are not human beings' ![br /]
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Victor Hugo had lived through empires, the Restoration, the Revolution of 1830. He had observed the secret springs controlling people and events. Every chapter of the book is a witness to this. Victor Hugo gave his real life experiences and observations an imperishable form. No circumstances froze his creativity except his daughter's death, not even his wife Adèle, who died in his arms (as she had wished to) on August 27, 1868.[br /]
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France heralded the end of the regime. Military disaster in Mexico and diplomatic defeat in Europe had exasperated and humiliated the French. After the disastrous battle of Sedan, Napoleon III had fled to England.[br /]
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Hugo sprang into action again. He encouraged his sons, who had started a journal to voice their views. Hugo journeyed through Switzerland with Juliette. He was a grandfather by now. He wanted to go home now, Paris. In October 1870, he returned to Paris. He wept. His reception at the railway station was indescribable. Talking to the public, he said, "You have repaid me in one hour for 20 years of exile !" Voices shattered the darkness within Hugo. He was in heaven. Positions waited for him. Parisians elected him a Member of Parliament. However, in 1871, Victor resigned from Parliament. His son died. [br /]
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[b]A Grandpa[/b][br /]
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In 1879, Hugo published L' Art d' ètre Grandpère. He had always loved children. He understood them fine. He was very close to his grandchildren; he played with them, drew their portraits, treasured their tiny shoes. He allowed them to spread their toys over his manuscripts. He took them outdoors. At the zoo, he could look at the wild beasts with the eyes of a child and an adult. The tots trembled a little, and laughed much. The old man loved the laughter. Hugo was nearing something. Yet he was in action. He wrote a comedy, Philèmon perverti, which never got beyond the draft stage. In this, he had treated his own character with great harshness. He wore himself out in other ways too. He spoke eloquently at the celebration of the Voltaire centenary; taking the chair at the International Literary Congress. In June 1878, on a night after a lavish dinner and a violent discussion (about a joint Rousseau-Voltaire celebration), he had a slight stroke. He stammered, making uncertain movements yet refused to take it seriously. In 1881, Hugo's entry upon his 80th year was celebrated as a National Festival. People of Paris marched in procession under the windows of the poet's residence on February 26. Victor, flanked by his grandchildren, 'two good little republicans…', as he called them, saw the masses pass, 6000 of them. It took all day. A heap of flowers, as high as a small hill, lay piled in the roadway.[br /]
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[b]Deepening Shadows[/b][br /]
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Again, the event of great honor and glory coincided with the loss of a dear. Juliette bade a farewell to world in May 1883. She was 77. Hugo was shattered. She had been a part of his glory, having shown her loyalty in testing times. Hugo always associated her with his works, homage she deserved. The most wonderful woman of his life was no more now.[br /]
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Among the innumerable feminine admirers of Victor Hugo were actresses, authoresses and fashionable ladies. Hugo's diaries revealed how he was favorite with the fair sex. Hugo's harmless flirting never ceased. He entertained ladies, kissing their bare wrists as usual. In Paris, he was a familiar figure in the streets, even when it was snowing. He wore nothing over his frockcoat. 'My youth is my protection', he used to say. He went to see Bartholdi working on his Statue of Liberty. Somehow, he had sensed that he was to take an exit from the world soon. He believed in the Almighty. He put it into words : "I believe in God, I believe in the soul, I believe that we shall be called upon to answer for our deeds…Since all existing religions have failed in their duty to Humanity and to God, no priest shall have a part in my funeral. I leave my heart to the dear ones whom I love - V. H."[br /]
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He made his will in 1881, donating 40,000 francs to the poor, expressing his wish to be taken to the cemetery in a pauper's hearse and carefully secured a financial future for his heirs.[br /]
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"…I am about to close my bodily eyes; but the eyes of my spirit will remain open, more widely open than ever. I refuse the prayers of the churches. I ask a prayer of all human spirits." - Victor mentioned in his will. Diagnosed with a congestion of the lungs, he breathed his last on May 22, 1885, while saying goodbye to his grandchildren. Paris mourned. National mourning followed a National loss. Twelve French poets formed a guard of honor at his funeral. Two million Frenchmen followed the hearse. The voices of all now cradled this great man in his grave. For the first time in the history of mankind, a whole nation was rendering to a poet the honors usually reserved for sovereigns and military leaders.[br /]
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During the half-century following his death, many other poets - Baudelaire, Mallarmè, Valèry have attained fame and mastery, indeed, because of the strict and novel standards they set themselves, but sans Hugo, they would never have existed at all, as they have themselves admitted. Never had a nation been so closely knit with one single body of writing. [br /]
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