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#Mlle. Ursule
lesmisscraper · 4 months
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The Two Old Men(+One Young Man) Do Everything, Each One After His Own Fashion, to Render Cosette Happy, Volume 5, Book 5, Chapter 6.
Clips from <Il cuore di Cosette>.
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erosyrup · 5 months
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mlle. lanoire / ursule / cosette fauchelevent
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TMM DAY THREE: HEART
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@themiserablesmonth
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Courfeyrac watches Marius hurry down the street, something clutched in his hands. Marius stops at the street corner and bows his head, sniffing the object intently, and Courfeyrac looks at Bossuet.
"What do you think that could be?"
"I have no idea," Bossuet says, subtly adjusting his wig. "Perhaps you should follow him and find out."
Courfeyrac grins at that and nods quickly, climbing to his feet. "Let us be off, then."
"What, now? But I have not even finished my breakfast," Bossuet says.
Courfeyrac grumbles at hm. "Fine, then. You shall remain here and eat, and I will follow young Baron Pontmercy and see what other strange objects he may collect in his daily travels."
Courfeyrac stands and hurries away after Marius. It doesn't take him long to catch up to the other man. Marius has stopped to hide behind a tree, and Courfeyrac can see an older man and a young woman sitting on a bench nearby. He creeps forward and rests his hand on Marius' shoulder, causing the younger man to yelp and jump in surprise.
"Courfeyrac! What are you doing here?"
"Following you, my friend," he says, grinning even as Marius glowers at him. "So, who is she?"
"Ursule F., I believe. Look." Marius takes the object out of his pocket and shows Courfeyrac. It's a handkerchief, with a U.F. embroidered in the corner.
"I see your heart has been captured by Mlle Lanoire," Courfeyrac teases, looking toward the father and daughter on the bench. "Why don't we leave this place, and Bossuet, Bahorel, and I will give you advice on wooing your young lady."
"Oh, she has won my heart, Courfeyrac. She is so beautiful, and intelligent, I am sure," he says, his head seeming lost in the clouds as Courfeyrac leads him back to where Bossuet waits.
"I am surprised to see you back here, Courfeyrac. I thought you were going to find Pontmercy," Bossuet says.
"Oh, I have. He has found a young maiden and fancies himself in love."
Marius sits down beside Bossuet and sighs longingly. "Her name is Ursule, and she wears the most lovely black dresses," Marius says. "Bossuet, Courfeyrac, truly I am in love. I understand what you mean now, when you speak of your Musichetta and Hélène."
"Have you spoken to Mlle Lanoire, Marius?" Courfeyrac asks, and Marius hesitates.
"I have not."
"Well, there is a ball coming soon. Perhaps you can stop your young woman in the street, or visit her father's house." 
"I will be sure to do that," Marius says. 
Courfeyrac sticks his hand in his breast pocket and removes a calling card, with the time and date of a ball. "Memorize it, or write down the address and date, and then give it to Ursule."
Marius nods and puts the card in his pocket. "Thank you, Courfeyrac." 
~
Several days pass, and Courfeyrac and Helene are waiting on the front steps of the mansion, for Marius and Ursule. A few minutes pass, and Marius emerges from a carriage. He holds the door open and a girl in a black dress and bonnet steps out, holding Marius' hand tightly.
"Courfeyrac!" Marius calls, taking the girl's hand and leading her over. "This is Cosette Fauchelevent. It was her father's handkerchief that I found. His name is Ultime."
Cosette curtsies, and then stands.
"I am Jérôme Courfeyrac, and this is my mistress, Hélène Vernier."
"It is a pleasure to meet you," Cosette says. Courfeyrac smiles and leads the small group into the ballroom.
"So, Cosette, how long have you known Marius?" Hélène asks, causing Courfeyrac and Marius to exchange a slightly nervous glance.
"Only two days, when he gave me an invitation to this ball. I am lucky that my father allowed me to attend. I do believe this man has stolen my heart," Cosette says, giving Marius an adoring look.
"As have you, my love," Marius says, kissing Cosette's hand as he leads her onto the dance floor. Courfeyrac and Hélène give each other a knowing look as they follow the other couple.
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bobcatmoran · 4 years
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Les Misérables: The Not-Scanlation, 3.3.1 (for real this time)
Previously on Les Mis Manga: Marius is the most Pontmercy to ever Pontmercy. Also I let Google Translate handle this in a previous April Fool’s post. Is it better than it used to be at this? Yes. Is it actually good at it yet? No.
Coming up: Pontmercying continues, this time with a bonus handkerchief.
With Covid-19 wreaking its terrible way through the globe and the governor’s “stay at home” order, I have an abundance of time on my hands and nearly a year’s worth of residual guilt over how I haven’t been working on the Les Mis manga translation. So I’m picking it up again! For real this time! I promise this is not done by Google Translate.
As always, beneath the cut are scans, followed by the script in my best attempt at translating (I continue to not be a pro at this, and corrections are always, always welcome). Translations up through this point as well as of the entirety of the barricade, can be found at my [manga masterpost]. Overviews of all the chapters I haven’t translated yet can be found there, too, up until the very final chapter.
I highly recommend buying the actual manga from any of the links [here]. The art truly is more amazing in person, and by buying either the Japanese original or official French translation, you’ll be supporting the artists! Note that Kinokuniya USA is, for the time being, only taking orders via email or phone since their online store is being updated and, of course, due to Covid-19, their physical stores are mostly closed.
Preview is scandalous:
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Title: Book 3: Marius Chapter 3: Marius Alone, Searching for a Girl, Meets a Man
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(all the Japanese text on these pages are the author credits and this volume’s table of contents)
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SFX: *whoosh*
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Jean Valjean: Are you all right?
Cosette: Yes.
Old Soldier: *grin*
Marius Pontmercy: Hmph.
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Courfeyrac: So then, you thought about beating up that old soldier?! What a radical*! And with such an innocent face!
Guy standing on the table: Hahaha!
Courfeyrac: Marius, your true character is revealed!
Marius: He was looking at her sacred legs. So that sprang to mind.
Waitress: Sorry for the wait. Careful, it’s hot!
Jean Prouvaire: Ah, yes, the madness of passion.** Love makes a person act strangely.
Marius: Don’t make fun of me, Prouvaire.
*The word Courfeyrac uses, 過激, is for political radicals. He’s ribbing Marius not only about his ridiculous crush, but also his politics.
**Prouvaire’s remark is probably inspired by the waitress saying the food is hot, or 熱い. The word he uses for passion, 熱情, is made of the kanji for “hot” and “emotion.”
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Prouvaire: It’s true, though. Do you just have to look upon her from a distance? It’s been about two years since you first noticed her in the park, right?
Marius: It’s not as if I felt this way from the beginning. But as I noticed her over time…
Prouvaire: …she became beautiful.
Grantaire: What kind of people are they, always appearing on the same bench at the same time, this “mysterious old man” and the “beautiful girl”?
Courfeyrac: Right, M. Leblanc and Mlle. Lanoire.
Grantaire: White and black?
Marius: Hey, Courfeyrac, knock it off with those nicknames.
Courfeyrac: I use those nicknames for a white-haired old man and a black-clothed young lady. It’s easy enough to understand.
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Marius: Her name is not Lanoire.
Courfeyrac: ! Do you know her name?!
SFX: *rustle*
Marius: Her initials are “U.F.”
Courfeyrac: Lemme see!
Prouvaire: Hahaha.
Marius: Don’t touch it!
Grantaire: It’s hers?
Marius: It was left behind on the bench after she’d gone.
Grantaire: U.F? ……going by that…
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Marius: I’ll bet it’s “Ursule.” It sounds so beautiful. Perfect for a sweet girl.
Courfeyrac: *snicker*
Marius: What?
Courfeyrac: Ah, Ursule! How sweet-smelling! *sniff* *sniff*
Prouvaire: Hahaha
Marius: D-don’t say such dumb things!! You shouldn’t do that!!
SFX: *patpat*
Courfeyrac: I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I’d do it to any guy who’s probably in love with a lady.
Marius: What?!
Prouvaire?: Haha, lay off already, Courfeyrac! Marius is embarrassed!
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Marius: Ursule…… I feel your soul…
Next time on Les Mis Manga: Marius continues to Pontmercy and I almost die of second-hand embarrassment for him.
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lesmisscraper · 3 months
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The Effects of Dreams Mingled with Happiness(And the status of the Marius' mind), Volume 5, Book 5, Chapter 7.
Clips from <Il cuore di Cosette>.
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lesmisscraper · 5 months
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A Drinker is a Babbler. Volume 4, Book 15, Chapter 1.
Clips from <Il cuore di Cosette>.
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lesmisscraper · 7 months
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That evening, Cosette was alone in the drawing-room. In order to get rid of her ennui, she had opened her piano-organ, and had begun to sing, accompanying herself the while, the chorus from Euryanthe: "Hunters astray in the wood!" which is probably the most beautiful thing in all the sphere of music. When she had finished, she remained wrapped in thought.
Le soir, Cosette était seule dans le salon. Pour se désennuyer, elle avait ouvert son piano-orgue et elle s’était mise à chanter, en s’accompagnant, le chœur d’Euryanthe : Chasseurs égarés dans les bois ! qui est peut-être ce qu’il y a de plus beau dans toute la musique. Quand elle eut fini, elle demeura pensive.
Vol. 4, Book 5, Chapter 2.
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And it's that song Cosette played and sang, <Der Jägerchor> in the original title.
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So she sang this one during that part?
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lesmisscraper · 7 months
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Cosette bonding with her father after the wound. Volume 4, Book 4, Chapter 1.
Clips from <Il cuore di Cosette>.
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lesmisscraper · 7 months
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An Apparition to Marius, Volume 4, Book 2, Chapter 4.
Clips from <Il cuore di Cosette>.
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lesmisscraper · 7 months
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The Reunion of Cosette and Marius. Volume 4, Book 5, Chapter 6.
Clips from <Il cuore di Cosette>.
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lesmisscraper · 7 months
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"Dost thou know? My name is Euphrasie."
"Euphrasie? Why, no, thy name is Cosette."
"Oh! Cosette is a very ugly name that was given to me when I was a little thing. But my real name is Euphrasie. Dost thou like that name--Euphrasie?"
"Yes. But Cosette is not ugly."
"Do you like it better than Euphrasie?"
"Why, yes."
Vol. 4, Book 8, Chapter 1.
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lesmisscraper · 6 months
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The First Cloud in Cosette and Marius' Dream. Volume 4, Book 8, Chapter 6.
Clips from <Il cuore di Cosette>.
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lesmisscraper · 7 months
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Ghosts usually do not wear hats indeed. Volume 4, Book 5, Chapter 2.
Clips from <Il cuore di Cosette>.
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lesmisscraper · 7 months
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The Battle Between Valjean and Marius. Volume 4, Book 3, Chapter 7.
Clips from <Il cuore di Cosette>.
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lesmisscraper · 8 months
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Marius' Request for Eponine of finding Mlle. Ursule. Volume 3, Book 8, Chapter 11.
Clips from <Il cuore di Cosette>.
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lesmisscraper · 7 months
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The reduction of the universe to a single being, the expansion of a single being even to God, that is love.
Love is the salutation of the angels to the stars.
How sad is the soul, when it is sad through love!
What a void in the absence of the being who, by herself alone fills the world! Oh! how true it is that the beloved being becomes God. One could comprehend that God might be jealous of this had not God the Father of all evidently made creation for the soul, and the soul for love.
The glimpse of a smile beneath a white crape bonnet with a lilac curtain is sufficient to cause the soul to enter into the palace of dreams.
God is behind everything, but everything hides God. Things are black, creatures are opaque. To love a being is to render that being transparent.
Certain thoughts are prayers. There are moments when, whatever the attitude of the body may be, the soul is on its knees.
Parted lovers beguile absence by a thousand chimerical devices, which possess, however, a reality of their own. They are prevented from seeing each other, they cannot write to each other; they discover a multitude of mysterious means to correspond. They send each other the song of the birds, the perfume of the flowers, the smiles of children, the light of the sun, the sighings of the breeze, the rays of stars, all creation. And why not? All the works of God are made to serve love. Love is sufficiently potent to charge all nature with its messages.
Oh Spring! Thou art a letter that I write to her.
The future belongs to hearts even more than it does to minds. Love, that is the only thing that can occupy and fill eternity. In the infinite, the inexhaustible is requisite.
Love participates of the soul itself. It is of the same nature. Like it, it is the divine spark; like it, it is incorruptible, indivisible, imperishable. It is a point of fire that exists within us, which is immortal and infinite, which nothing can confine, and which nothing can extinguish. We feel it burning even to the very marrow of our bones, and we see it beaming in the very depths of heaven.
Oh Love! Adorations! voluptuousness of two minds which understand each other, of two hearts which exchange with each other, of two glances which penetrate each other! You will come to me, will you not, bliss! strolls by twos in the solitudes! Blessed and radiant days! I have sometimes dreamed that from time to time hours detached themselves from the lives of the angels and came here below to traverse the destinies of men.
God can add nothing to the happiness of those who love, except to give them endless duration. After a life of love, an eternity of love is, in fact, an augmentation; but to increase in intensity even the ineffable felicity which love bestows on the soul even in this world, is impossible, even to God. God is the plenitude of heaven; love is the plenitude of man.
You look at a star for two reasons, because it is luminous, and because it is impenetrable. You have beside you a sweeter radiance and a greater mystery, woman.
All of us, whoever we may be, have our respirable beings. We lack air and we stifle. Then we die. To die for lack of love is horrible. Suffocation of the soul.
When love has fused and mingled two beings in a sacred and angelic unity, the secret of life has been discovered so far as they are concerned; they are no longer anything more than the two boundaries of the same destiny; they are no longer anything but the two wings of the same spirit. Love, soar.
On the day when a woman as she passes before you emits light as she walks, you are lost, you love. But one thing remains for you to do: to think of her so intently that she is constrained to think of you.
What love commences can be finished by God alone.
True love is in despair and is enchanted over a glove lost or a handkerchief found, and eternity is required for its devotion and its hopes. It is composed both of the infinitely great and the infinitely little.
If you are a stone, be adamant; if you are a plant, be the sensitive plant; if you are a man, be love.
Nothing suffices for love. We have happiness, we desire paradise; we possess paradise, we desire heaven.
Oh ye who love each other, all this is contained in love. Understand how to find it there. Love has contemplation as well as heaven, and more than heaven, it has voluptuousness.
"Does she still come to the Luxembourg?" "No, sir." "This is the church where she attends mass, is it not?" "She no longer comes here." "Does she still live in this house?" "She has moved away." "Where has she gone to dwell?"
"She did not say."
What a melancholy thing not to know the address of one's soul!
Love has its childishness, other passions have their pettinesses. Shame on the passions which belittle man! Honor to the one which makes a child of him!
There is one strange thing, do you know it? I dwell in the night. There is a being who carried off my sky when she went away.
Oh! would that we were lying side by side in the same grave, hand in hand, and from time to time, in the darkness, gently caressing a finger,--that would suffice for my eternity!
Ye who suffer because ye love, love yet more. To die of love, is to live in it.
Love. A sombre and starry transfiguration is mingled with this torture. There is ecstasy in agony.
Oh joy of the birds! It is because they have nests that they sing.
Love is a celestial respiration of the air of paradise.
Deep hearts, sage minds, take life as God has made it; it is a long trial, an incomprehensible preparation for an unknown destiny. This destiny, the true one, begins for a man with the first step inside the tomb. Then something appears to him, and he begins to distinguish the definitive. The definitive, meditate upon that word. The living perceive the infinite; the definitive permits itself to be seen only by the dead. In the meanwhile, love and suffer, hope and contemplate. Woe, alas! to him who shall have loved only bodies, forms, appearances! Death will deprive him of all. Try to love souls, you will find them again.
I encountered in the street, a very poor young man who was in love. His hat was old, his coat was worn, his elbows were in holes; water trickled through his shoes, and the stars through his soul.
What a grand thing it is to be loved! What a far grander thing it is to love! The heart becomes heroic, by dint of passion. It is no longer composed of anything but what is pure; it no longer rests on anything that is not elevated and great. An unworthy thought can no more germinate in it, than a nettle on a glacier. The serene and lofty soul, inaccessible to vulgar passions and emotions, dominating the clouds and the shades of this world, its follies, its lies, its hatreds, its vanities, its miseries, inhabits the blue of heaven, and no longer feels anything but profound and subterranean shocks of destiny, as the crests of mountains feel the shocks of earthquake.
If there did not exist some one who loved, the sun would become extinct.
Vol. 4, Book 5, Chapter 4.
The 15-Pages Love Letter of Marius for Cosette in <Il cuore di Cosette>.
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