les miserables is going to kill me
Jan. 6th, 2013 11:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kasihya(yes, there should be an accent over the e)
I got the book out of the library last week because my history geek was acting up again and I wanted to read about the one area of French history I know anything about. Then I was told that the revolution in question was not the revolution I was thinking of! Oh well. And then I saw the movie again today with my sister.
I am drowning in feelings. Hardcore, this will never leave your brain until you are finished, and probably not for a long while afterwards, feelings. I know that there are criticisms of the movie, the casting choices and whatnot, but I do not care. I was getting emotional over Fantine from the moment she cut her hair to the moment she died; I nearly cried when Valjean was singing in the carriage after rescuing Cossette; and I was shivering in my seat for nearly all of the barricade. (Actually, I was shivering a lot during the movie, which is apparently yet another physical symptom of anxiety, and one that I'm supposed to get checked out by my doctor because it could be endocrinal.) And then I got upset during the finale because it was nearly over and I'd just been put through seventeen years of emotional trauma in two and a half hours and it wasn't enough.
Anyway I'm reading the book, in which everything is ten times worse, because I have a mighty need for more, more of Jean Valjean and every single revolutionary whose names I can neither pronounce nor transcribe, and I am in the wonderful position of having a source book with all of the page time of every character who I could possibly want to meet. I just cannot expect to leave here emotionally unscarred.
I got the book out of the library last week because my history geek was acting up again and I wanted to read about the one area of French history I know anything about. Then I was told that the revolution in question was not the revolution I was thinking of! Oh well. And then I saw the movie again today with my sister.
I am drowning in feelings. Hardcore, this will never leave your brain until you are finished, and probably not for a long while afterwards, feelings. I know that there are criticisms of the movie, the casting choices and whatnot, but I do not care. I was getting emotional over Fantine from the moment she cut her hair to the moment she died; I nearly cried when Valjean was singing in the carriage after rescuing Cossette; and I was shivering in my seat for nearly all of the barricade. (Actually, I was shivering a lot during the movie, which is apparently yet another physical symptom of anxiety, and one that I'm supposed to get checked out by my doctor because it could be endocrinal.) And then I got upset during the finale because it was nearly over and I'd just been put through seventeen years of emotional trauma in two and a half hours and it wasn't enough.
Anyway I'm reading the book, in which everything is ten times worse, because I have a mighty need for more, more of Jean Valjean and every single revolutionary whose names I can neither pronounce nor transcribe, and I am in the wonderful position of having a source book with all of the page time of every character who I could possibly want to meet. I just cannot expect to leave here emotionally unscarred.
