Part II, Book 3, Chapter 5
The Little Girl All Alone
Cosette follows the road out of town, and gets scared as she leaves civilization and her surroundings get darker and darker. To reassure herself, she rattles the bucket handle so it makes a noise in the darkness. Did I mention it’s Christmas?
After a while, Cosette is in the open countryside, away from all the houses with their comforting lights. Again, it is insane that the only water source for an entire village is so far away. The darkness and the fright of the journey ahead scare Cosette so much that she decides on the spot to turn back and tell the Thénardiers there was no water (because Cosette is a habitual liar now!)—I just gotta say, it would be pretty damn alarming if the town’s only water source just up and ran out of water, and obviously the Thénardiers would see through that one.
Then, Madame Thénardier—that abusive mountain of a woman—appears in Cosette’s imagination, angry and dangerous, and Cosette is so scared just at the thought of Madame’s anger that she runs straight for the forest, almost crying.
Propelled by fear, Cosette gets to the forest spring, which is a small hollow two feet deep—sorry, I know I am really hung up on the water thing, but you’re telling me an entire town of people some distance away is entirely reliant on this tiny body of water?? Who founded this village based on a distant puddle, because I have a lot of questions for them.
As is her routine when she’s tasked with getting water, Cosette grabs a tree branch that hangs over the spring, and lowers herself down from the branch to dip the bucket into the water. As she does so, unbeknownst to her, the 15-sou coin she was given to pick up bread falls out of her pocket and into the water. Exhausted by the effort, Cosette sits down to recover.
It goes without saying that all of this happens in the dark. As Cosette rests in the darkness, the wind blows through the forest, which starts rustling around her, and she is filled with terror so intense that she feels the urge to flee—but it is her fear of Madame Thénardier that keeps her from leaving without the precious bucket of water. So she grabs the handle and sets off; the full bucket is so heavy that she can barely lift it, so she has to stop and rest every few steps. Each time she stops, the water splashes onto her, leaving her soggy and cold (it’s December and she’s underclothed to begin with!), and the effort of lifting the bucket leaves her arms and hands strained.
This is where I think the Thénardiers are just not very smart. You send an underfed 8-year-old out to carry a huge bucket of water for like a mile? It is GOING to take a super long time no matter how you cut it—if you want water, Cosette is objectively the worst person for the job! That guy with the thirsty horse is for sure going to leave a bad Yelp review because of the long wait!
I can see it now:
I had no choice but to stay here because it’s the only inn in Montfermeil. I asked for water for my horse and first they lied to me and said he’d already been watered, and then when they finally went to give him water it took over an hour for the water to actually get there. Food and wine were decent but the bill the next morning charged me for closing the window and using the mirror in my room. One star, do not recommend. Stay away!
Anyway. I realize that with the Thénardiers, the cruelty is the point, but it’s still very dumb to hamstring your own operations by deputizing the least physically capable person to a job.
In any case, Cosette was struggling all alone, in the cold and dark. “This was happening in the depths of a forest, at night, in winter, far from all human eyes. She was an eight-year-old child. At that moment there was no one but God watching this sorry sight. And doubtless her mother, alas! For there are things that make women lying dead in their graves open their eyes.”
Again. THIS IS WHY YOU VET YOUR CHILDCARE. I don’t want to keep blaming poor dead Fantine, but girl!!!
So we have Cosette slogging at her impossible task, filled with terror of the darkness and anxiety over the beating she will surely receive for taking so long. She stops once again at a familiar tree to put the bucket down, then continues her horrible journey, crying, “O my God! my God!” HEARTBREAKING STUFF. This is the worst Christmas ever.
Then!
“At that moment, she suddenly felt her bucket no longer weighed anything. A hand, which looked enormous to her, had just seized the handle and vigorously lifted it. She looked up. Towering above her, a huge black figure was walking beside her in the dark. It was a man who had caught up with her and she had not heard him coming. Without a word this man had taken the handle of the bucket she was carrying.”
I’m not gonna lie. I actually teared up at this.
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