Part I, Book 2, Chapter 12
The Bishop at Work
This chapter is top-tier bishop content, 10/10 no notes. It’s the morning after Valjean has stolen the silverware, and the bishop is just vibing in his garden when Madame Magloire runs over, freaked out: she can’t find the silverware basket and wants to know where it is. They basically have the following exchange:
Madame Magloire: Where is the silverware basket???
Bishop Myriel: [calmly hands over the empty basket he found dumped in the garden] Here it is!
Madame Magloire: But where is the silverware???
Bishop Myriel: Oh, were you looking for the silverware?
A+ trolling by my dear bishop, but also, Madame Magloire, you totally set him up for that one.
She realizes, upon seeing the damage to the wall Valjean climbed, that he has stolen the silverware and skedaddled, and, somewhat understandably freaked out, calls Valjean a wicked man. The bishop, who this whole time is more upset that a little plant in his garden got damaged when the basket was dropped, just says calmly, “Now was that silver ours in the first place?”
This is a next-level amount of chill. With the exact same energy as “You give me back my house,” the bishop says, “I’ve been wrongfully keeping that silver for a long time. It belonged to the poor. And what was that man? Obviously one of the poor.”
I don’t know exactly that this argument will stand up in court, but to her credit, Madame Magloire just rolls with it. Resigned to the fact that her boss insists on being allergic to nice things, she asks what they’ll eat with, and they have a hilarious exchange about cutlery material types before they settle on wood cutlery. Very sustainable eco-chic, I approve.
Shortly after, at breakfast, the bishop cheerfully remarks to his silent companions that one does not need cutlery to dip bread in milk. Amazing. This is kind of smart-ass dad energy.
Then, gendarmes appear at the door holding Valjean literally by the scruff of his neck like he’s a cat. They greet the bishop as “Monseigneur” which is a shock to the cat Valjean, who only now realizes that the bishop is a bishop, aka kind of a big deal.
Said bishop doesn’t miss a beat. As soon as the gendarmes show up with Valjean, the bishop goes, oh there you are, you silly goose, why didn’t you take the candlesticks I gave you?, like Valjean is his adorably scatterbrained little buddy.
I have to say, this is a huge improvement over the version of this scene in the musical, where the bishop is written like a saint (which he is), all serious, pious gravitas. Book Bishop is an absolute hoot, an utter delight of a man, who’s quick on his feet and hilariously cheerful.
Valjean, who clearly did not take any improv classes in prison school and could not “Yes and” his way out of a situation if his life depended on it (which it does), just responds with stunned silence. The bishop pretends this is all totally normal.
The gendarmes go, wait, so he’s not a thief? and the bishop goes nope, this is all a big misunderstanding, haha! and grabs his precious antique candlesticks and hands them to Valjean. Valjean continues to be stunned and confused.
This is not relevant to Les Misérables, but if you’re on this blog for trenchant literary analysis, it’s better that you find out now. In the halcyon days of Potter fandom, decades before the TERF queen went mask-off and ruined things for us, an animator who went by Makani online posted hilarious HP fanart, and when I read this chapter, with Valjean just responding to the entire situation with stunned silence, I remembered one particular panel from Makani’s illustration of Bellatrix attending the Unbreakable Vow in Half-Blood Prince.
This is exactly how I picture Valjean reacting the entire time the gendarmes are holding him and the bishop is doing his “we’re silly buds who forget when we give each other precious antiques” shtick.
Anyway. The bishop dismisses the gendarmes, and “Jean Valjean was like a man about to faint.” I always thought the term “killing with kindness” was hyperbole but at this point I was somewhat concerned that Valjean might not make it, he’s that shaken. (And we all know that the bishop is fully capable of killing a man with words!)
As soon as they’re alone, the bishop drops the buddy-comedy act. “Don’t forget, never forget, you promised to use this money to become an honest man,” he says quietly to Valjean, and I swear I can actually feel the temperature change in the room. Of course, Valjean never made any such promise, so he continues to be shocked and confused.
The bishop goes on to absolve Valjean: “[M]y brother, you’re no longer owned by evil but by good. It’s your soul I’m buying. I’m redeeming it from dark thoughts […] and I’m giving it to God.”
In addition to this getting the song from the musical stuck in my head, I thought this conclusion was such a beautifully profound act. The bishop seems to see the emotional baggage Valjean is carrying, as a man the world has labeled “wicked,” and knows there’s no coming back from that once you believe you cannot be redeemed. So he turns Valjean’s latest crime into a cleansing, telling him the ledger is clear and that he has permission to choose goodness. Instead of the handoff of silver being a theft in which the bishop is (willing) victim, it is a transaction in which Valjean has exchanged his damaged soul.
Bishop Myriel, you brilliant little man, I love you so much.
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