Part II, Book 3, Chapter 9
Thénardier Up to His Tricks
Generally speaking, women are smarter than the men they married. Don’t @ me, it’s just an observation! From this chapter, though, it seems the Thénardiers are the exception, as Thénardier is clearly way smarter than his wife.
We start out in a cloud of wry irony and hilarious overstatement as Thénardier begins the chapter by drawing up the bill for the gentleman he put in the bridal chamber, aka Stealth Jean Valjean. Thénardier’s great talent is that he can quickly assess any situation and figure out how to make it benefit himself. In other words, he is an extremely savvy grifter.
With great thought—and Hugo hilariously compares Thénardier’s efforts to that of “Castlereagh […] at the Congress of Vienna”—Thénardier writes up a bullshit bill for 23 francs, which is insane as we learned in the previous chapter that a room at the inn is 20 sous, or 1 franc. This is a 2300% markup. Woof.
How does he inflate a 1-franc stay to 23? Obviously he charges extra for the “bridal chamber,” but he also adds charges for a candle and fire, and slaps a whopping 3 franc charge on the bill for his guest’s extremely humble supper of bread and cheese. These are basically minibar charges (the other day I was charged $10 for drinking the only bottle of water in a hotel room, which is pretty much the same thing) and it is clear that Thénardier simply has the energy of a corporate hotel chain exec, or the CEO of Spirit Airlines. RIP Thénardier, you would have thrived as an MBA.
Madame, watching “with devout admiration” as her husband grifts away, is still shocked at the amount he’s arrived at. Thénardier then explains that he’s 1500 francs in debt—ah, there it is. Well, at this rate, you only have to exploit [checks note] 65 more rich guests! That’s a solid debt reduction plan.
With some trepidation, Madame goes to give the gentleman his bill…and when she does, she immediately starts kvetching about Cosette and how much she sucks. Jesus, woman, there’s a problem when you’re hating this much on a child.
Spotting his opening, Valjean very neutrally asks how Madame would feel if, oh I don’t know, Cosette were taken away?—and Madame immediately agrees, no conditions, no questions asked. See? Not very smart. When you have leverage, demand more!!!
Luckily for her—and unluckily for Valjean—Thénardier’s been listening, so he immediately comes in, asks his wife to leave, and starts waxing eloquent about how much he looooooves Cosette. Here in his monologue is where we see a lot of the source material for “The Thénardier Waltz of Treachery”—the man literally says “I’m happy to share my bread with her,” and “You see, she’s like a child of our own.” I immediately got the song stuck in my head when I read these lines!
And because Thénardier is a crafty son of a bitch, he not only makes it clear that he’s not giving Cosette up for free, he also insinuates that, for her own safety, he ought to see documentation and know everything about who Valjean (who has been nameless this entire time) is and where he’s taking Cosette. Clearly, he’s thinking ahead to the future, and keeping his options for blackmail/extortion/general scammery open.
Valjean, my beloved hero, immediately draws his boundary so clearly and firmly that a thousand therapists just sat up to take note. He says, firmly, that he is taking Cosette away, and Thénardier is not to know his name or where they are going, and his intention is for both Thénardiers to never see Cosette again. “I break the cord she has around her ankle, and she goes.” Oooooh, the man’s going no-contact! I approve.
“Just as demons and genies recognize from certain signs the presence of a superior god, Thénardier realized he was dealing with someone very powerful.” Incredible. The man got alpha-ed so hard. So, realizing that his only move left is to leave all his cards on the table, he just baldly states that he needs 1500 francs.
Bold. I have to respect.
Valjean peels off 1500 francs’ worth of banknotes from his wallet—wait, my guy, you’re just walking around with that kind of money on your person?—then lays the notes on the table, puts his big strong thumb on top of them, and orders Thénardier to send him Cosette. This man doesn’t haggle (the Asian matriarch in me disapproves), but he does know how to hold his own in a power play (of which I do approve).
I will say that this whole transaction is a liiiittle, erm, human-trafficky for my taste, personally, but I guess it’s a lesser evil than the child slavery situation. Just no one tell the Pizzagate folks about any of this.
Meanwhile, Cosette finds the gold coin left in her clog, and this on top of the events of the night before makes her feel like her life has changed, and that she’s no longer lonely or afraid. It is basically an identical emotional event to when Sara Crewe receives the first “Magic” and her cold lonely garret is transformed by a kind stranger in A Little Princess.
Cosette is taken to Valjean with a quickness that only a promise of 1500 francs can elicit, and Valjean opens up the bundle he’s been holding this whole time and takes out an entire little girl’s outfit: not just the dress, but the petticoat, stockings, shoes, everything. Each piece of the outfit is black.
We then cut to daybreak, when the people of the town see a shabby man walking away, holding the hand of a little girl in full mourning who is clutching a doll. No one recognizes Cosette because she looks so different when she’s wearing, you know, actual clothes and shoes. Cosette feels, for the first time that she can remember, safe and protected.
I was briefly puzzled by the fact that Valjean chose an all-black mourning outfit for Cosette—surely it would be more welcoming and assuring to give her, like, normal clothes?—and then realized that this is Valjean’s way of providing closure to Cosette. This poor girl has no memory of her mother and doubts she ever had one; this gesture acknowledges both that she did, in fact, have a mother, and that said mother passed away. It’s such a quietly kind and emotionally intelligent act and I love this man even more for it.
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