Book review: L'Homme Qui Rit

By Victor Hugo

Book review: L'Homme Qui Rit

Hey besties, we are back for another book review!

About ten years ago, I had the chance to discuss with a homeless man (May his soul rest in eternal love), who explained he was from a well-off family and had to drop the ball because his life was on the line. How many less fortunate people renounce fortune to keep their dignity?

This week, we are looking at a classic from French literature: L'Homme Qui Rit. This book is beautiful and political, from beginning to end.

I read it purely out of curiosity and ended up enjoying not only Victor Hugo's writing, but his storytelling too. I later read Les Misérables and promise to write a review about it as well. There is something timelessly gut-wrenching about powerlessness in front of the authorities.

The story takes place in England between the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, and paints a climate of segregation against misfits. We follow Gwynplaine, a little boy, with a disfigured face displaying a permanent grin, who fails to make it to a ship headed to... well... we actually don't know. After the ship left him behind, in search of a warm place to sleep, he came across an abandoned baby girl, buried in the snow. He decided to carry her until he found a caravan. Upon knocking, a tall and bulky man answered, later introduced as Ursus (meaning Bear). Did he lowkey have the OG dad bod?

Ursus takes them in. He lives with a wolf called Homo (meaning Man). He decided to name him as such because the wolf had shown more humanity than any man Ursus knew. Over time, he realises the baby is completely blind. "The snow must have frozen her eyes, leaving permanent damage," he thought to himself. Her beauty was breathtaking; she looked like a porcelain doll, so he called her Dea (meaning goddess).

And so, he raised them, and eventually decided to host little spectacles, not only with Gwynplaine, but with fellow marginalised people, where Dea would sing.

Monetising their quirks out of survival... how high was the price of eggs, quickly?

As the spectacles went on, Gwynplaine became popular ("influencing" did start centuries ago, when you think about it). So popular that he attracts the curiosity of the monarchy. As it turns out, his blood was blue. Yes, he was a noble lovechild who got disfigured on the orders of the king. Great insight into how the monarchy dealt with its "dirty laundry." So our protagonist gets called into the palace. Accolades and mumbo jumbo, he gets dripped out (he had that shit on, respectfully). It's Sir Gwynplaine from now on, ladies and gentlemen.

Then he takes part in a session of the House of Lords where he raises his voice against the discrimination he and other misfits have endured. It does not quite turn out the way he hoped. Powerless, despite his title, he decides to make his way back to his one true love, his "true" family. Renouncing royalty in the name of dignity sounds like a final act of love.

My favourite quote from the book is from the song that led him back to Dea: Eres alma, soy corazón (you are soul, I am heart).

This book is touching. It shows the value of chosen family, the injustice towards those who don't quite fit in. It’s a timeless call for compassion and equality; one that still echoes today.

I would rate it a 10/10. It's a classic, and a good one. That goes without saying. His work is labelled classic for a reason, independently of his views on race.

What about you? How much would you rate it?

If you've got more to say about this beautiful novel, reach out! I promise I write back ;)