Part I, Book 6, Chapter 2
How Jean May Become Champ
Mayor Madeleine is in his office doing Mayor Things when Javert is shown in—because Madeleine is still a little salty about how cruel Javert was to poor little Fantine, he’s “frosty” towards Javert, and pointedly ignores him for a little bit. It’s good to know that despite his seemingly endless wells of goodness, Madeleine can still be a little petty if you really test him!
Javert is humble and quiet the entire time, seemingly unbothered that Madeleine is taking his sweet time, and as much as I want to see Javert put in his place, this does not bode well.
When Madeleine finally deigns to talk to him, Javert asks to be fired for the “unpardonable offense” of the disrespect a police officer (him) showed a magistrate (Madeleine). He doesn’t deserve to remain in his post, he says, but refuses to resign. “Resigning is honourable,” he says. “I’ve done wrong. I should be punished. I must be sacked.”
I’m not sure how I feel about Javert’s “punish me, Daddy” energy—this is taking Les Mis in a direction I’m sliiiightly uncomfortable with.
Madeleine is, very understandably, confused by this whole thing, and demands an explanation. Javert explains: after the showdown at the police station, Javert sent a strongly worded letter denouncing Mayor Madeleine to police headquarters in Paris, declaring that the mayor was non other than ex-con Jean Valjean, 24601. In addition to robbing a bishop after his release (wait, did Bishop Myriel’s whole ploy not work?), Jean Valjean, before disappearing, committed “armed robbery” on a highway, a crime in which Petit-Gervais was the victim.
HANG ON. I was upset as much as anyone when Valjean ROBBED A CHILD, but all he did was step on a dropped coin and tell Little G to scram! Where the hell did “armed robbery” come from?
I have questions, but Police HQ doesn’t; they immediately told Javert that he was “mad” (man, imagine getting a letter from your boss telling you that he thinks you’re cray-cray) because the real Jean Valjean has already been found. This is news to Javert and also to Madeleine, who is having the exact reaction someone would have upon being told that someone sniffed out their secret criminal identity and that someone else has been arrested in their place, but Javert is too busy being submissive and contrite to notice.
Javert goes on to explain why this other rando, according to his boss, is Jean Valjean; the guy’s name is Champmathieu (cat name!), and he was found with a branch of apples that had been broken off a tree and was presumed to have been stolen. This is an insane reason to arrest a guy, and man, turn-of-the-century France was really not messing around when it came to arresting hungry peasants. Champmathieu had the incredible misfortune of being IDed by an ex-con from the prison hulks as non other than Jean Valjean, and when the police started investigating, it all added up.
For you see, Champmathieu was also formerly a tree pruner at Faverolles.
Jean Valjean’s mother’s maiden name (you know, before she became Jeanne Valjean) was Mathieu, and it’s reasonable, the police conclude, that upon being released from prison, Jean Valjean would have used his mother’s maiden name and gone by “Jean Mathieu” to evade capture. The local dialect would have transformed “Jean Mathieu” into “Champmathieu” (in much the same way that “Voila Jean” would have become “Valjean,” I suppose), and there you go.
Incredible. We’re locking people up based on conjectures about etymology. The system isn’t broken at all.
Everything else, it seems, lines up. Champmathieu is 54, the same age as the missing Jean Valjean; they are the same height, and when two other convicts from the prison hulks are hauled in, they also ID Champmathieu as Valjean. So…we don’t believe convicts when they say they’re innocent, but we do when they conveniently confirm made-up plots that allow other innocent people to be locked up?
So, as far as everyone is concerned, Champmathieu is Jean Valjean, which means the hammer of justice is about to come down hard on him. If he were Just Some Guy, being caught with a branch of stolen apples would be a misdemeanor, but if he’s an ex-con on the run with a charge of armed robbery (again, how is stepping on Little G’s coin “armed robbery”????? I will never let this go), then he’s guilty of a serious offense, and will be sentenced to a lifetime of penal servitude.
I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again: this justice system is insane.
(I am also incredibly well-aware of how similar the modern American justice system is to this one, and how every day Les Mis-esque things are happening to countless people, particularly the poor and people of color.)
Champmathieu claims innocence, but of course, Javert says, it’s a ruse in which he’s pretending to be an innocent simpleton. I don’t know what Champmathieu did to piss off the gods, but they clearly hate him; this guy might have the worst luck in the world, and this is saying a lot in a fictional world where we’ve just seen what happened to Jean Valjean and Fantine. Javert, who is one of the witnesses who made a positive ID on poor Champmathieu, is leaving that very night to testify in Champmathieu’s trial the next day.
Not the point, but it’s kind of funny imagining how Javert thought this would play out. He’s a police inspector about to offer testimony putting a guy away for life, and on the eve of that happening he’s coming to the mayor and begging to be fired. Can you imagine that courtroom drama?
Judge: Please state your full name for the record.
Javert: I am Disgraced Former Police Inspector Javert, and I was fired yesterday for being super bad at my job. For some reason you should still believe me when I testify to something I did in the job I was so bad at.
Speaking of, Javert repeats to Madeleine his request to be fired. Madeleine refuses. Up until this point I’d been wondering if this entire thing were some kind of ruse, like if Javert planned this whole thing to smoke out Madeleine/Valjean, knowing Mr. Goody Two-Shoes would not let some poor rando get thrown under the bus. However, Javert’s explanation convinced me otherwise, and it is a fascinating bit of reasoning that reveals quite a lot about his character.
First of all, Javert says, he insulted and undermined the mayor’s authority—and if we know anything about Javert, it’s that this man loves a hierarchy and worships authority above all else. Second of all, Javert says, he is harsh on others (gee, you think?) and he is well aware of this. He must, he reveals, be equally harsh on himself, otherwise the harshness he has applied to other people becomes unjust. This declaration feels like Hugo has just produced the key that unlocks why Javert is the way he is. His cruelty—his sociopathy, even—is, in his eyes, reasonable and just as long as it is applied to everyone, and if that means turning that cruelty upon himself, so be it. His entire moral system falls apart if this is undermined (foreshadowing!!!!!), and it’s also why he loathes Madeleine’s kindness so much.
“It’s kindness like that that creates disorder in society,” he explains. “It’s very easy to be kind, the difficult thing is to be just.”
There you have it; in Javert’s messed-up worldview, kindness is immoral. ABSOLUTELY FASCINATING. Once again, we get a window into the mind of the fascist, an archetype we see not only in Javert but also in bootlickers all around us today.
Because Madeleine hasn’t fired Javert, Javert declares that he will continue serving in his post until he is replaced. With that, we finish Book 6.
Leave a Reply