Notre-Dame de Paris The Hunchback of Notre Dame

By Victor Hugo

Bilingual, English and French. According to Wikipedia: "The Hunchback of Notre-Dame (French: Notre-Dame de Paris, "Our Lady of Paris") is a novel by Victor Hugo published in 1831. The French title refers to the Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris, on which the story is centered."

Bilingue, anglais et français. Selon Wikipédia: "Le Bossu de Notre-Dame" est un roman de Victor Hugo publié en 1831. Le titre français fait référence à la cathédrale Notre-Dame de Paris, le dont l'histoire est centrée. "

• Language: English
• Publisher: Seltzer Books
• Release date: Mar 1, 2018
• ISBN: 9781455425754

Victor Hugo

Victor Hugo (1802-1885) was a French poet and novelist. Born in Besançon, Hugo was the son of a general who served in the Napoleonic army. Raised on the move, Hugo was taken with his family from one outpost to the next, eventually setting with his mother in Paris in 1803. In 1823, he published his first novel, launching a career that would earn him a reputation as a leading figure of French Romanticism. His Gothic novel The Hunchback of Notre-Dame (1831) was a bestseller throughout Europe, inspiring the French government to restore the legendary cathedral to its former glory. During the reign of King Louis-Philippe, Hugo was elected to the National Assembly of the French Second Republic, where he spoke out against the death penalty and poverty while calling for public education and universal suffrage. Exiled during the rise of Napoleon III, Hugo lived in Guernsey from 1855 to 1870. During this time, he published his literary masterpiece Les Misérables (1862), a historical novel which has been adapted countless times for theater, film, and television. Towards the end of his life, he advocated for republicanism around Europe and across the globe, cementing his reputation as a defender of the people and earning a place at Paris’ Panthéon, where his remains were interred following his death from pneumonia. His final words, written on a note only days before his death, capture the depth of his belief in humanity: “To love is to act.”

Book preview

Go."

 CHAPTER VII.

A BRIDAL NIGHT.

A few moments later our poet found himself in a tiny arched chamber, very cosy, very warm, seated at a table which appeared to ask nothing better than to make some loans from a larder hanging near by, having a good bed in prospect, and alone with a pretty girl.  The adventure smacked of enchantment.  He began seriously to take himself for a personage in a fairy tale; he cast his eyes about him from time to time to time, as though to see if the chariot of fire, harnessed to two-winged chimeras, which alone could have so rapidly transported him from Tartarus to Paradise, were still there.  At times, also, he fixed his eyes obstinately upon the holes in his doublet, in order to cling to reality, and not lose the ground from under his feet completely.  His reason, tossed about in imaginary space, now hung only by this thread.

The young girl did not appear to pay any attention to him; she went and came, displaced a stool, talked to her goat, and indulged in a pout now and then.  At last she came and seated herself near the table, and Gringoire was able to scrutinize her at his ease.

You have been a child, reader, and you would, perhaps, be very happy to be one still.  It is quite certain that you have not, more than once (and for my part, I have passed whole days, the best employed of my life, at it) followed from thicket to thicket, by the side of running water, on a sunny day, a beautiful green or blue dragon-fly, breaking its flight in abrupt angles, and kissing the tips of all the branches. You recollect with what amorous curiosity your thought and your gaze were riveted upon this little whirlwind, hissing and humming with wings of purple and azure, in the midst of which floated an imperceptible body, veiled by the very rapidity of its movement.  The aerial being which was dimly outlined amid this quivering of wings, appeared to you chimerical, imaginary, impossible to touch, impossible to see. But when, at length, the dragon-fly alighted on the tip of a reed, and, holding your breath the while, you were able to examine the long, gauze wings, the long enamel robe, the two globes of crystal, what astonishment you felt, and what fear lest you should again behold the form disappear into a shade, and the creature into a chimera!  Recall these impressions, and you will readily appreciate what Gringoire felt on contemplating, beneath her visible and palpable form, that Esmeralda of whom, up to that time, he had only caught a glimpse, amidst a whirlwind of dance, song, and tumult.

Sinking deeper and deeper into his revery: So this, he said to himself, following her vaguely with his eyes, is la Esmeralda! a celestial creature! a street dancer! so much, and so little!  'Twas she who dealt the death-blow to my mystery this morning, 'tis she who saves my life this evening!  My evil genius!  My good angel!  A pretty woman, on my word! and who must needs love me madly to have taken me in that fashion.  By the way, said he, rising suddenly, with that sentiment of the true which formed the foundation of his character and his philosophy, I don't know very well how it happens, but I am her husband!

With this idea in his head and in his eyes, he stepped up to the young girl in a manner so military and so gallant that she drew back.

What do you want of me? said she.

Can you ask me, adorable Esmeralda? replied Gringoire, with so passionate an accent that he was himself astonished at it on hearing himself speak.

The gypsy opened her great eyes.  I don't know what you mean.

What! resumed Gringoire, growing warmer and warmer, and supposing that, after all, he had to deal merely with a virtue of the Cour des Miracles; am I not thine, sweet friend, art thou not mine?

And, quite ingenuously, he clasped her waist.

The gypsy's corsage slipped through his hands like the skin of an eel.  She bounded from one end of the tiny room to the other, stooped down, and raised herself again, with a little poniard in her hand, before Gringoire had even had time to see whence the poniard came; proud and angry, with swelling lips and inflated nostrils, her cheeks as red as an api apple,* and her eyes darting lightnings.  At the same time, the white goat placed itself in front of her, and presented to Gringoire a hostile front, bristling with two pretty horns, gilded and very sharp.  All this took place in the twinkling of an eye.

 *  A small dessert apple, bright red on one side and greenish- white on the other.

 The dragon-fly had turned into a wasp, and asked nothing better than to sting.

Our philosopher was speechless, and turned his astonished eyes from the goat to the young girl.  Holy Virgin! he said at last, when surprise permitted him to speak, here are two hearty dames!

The gypsy broke the silence on her side.

You must be a very bold knave!

Pardon, mademoiselle, said Gringoire, with a smile.  But why did you take me for your husband?

Should I have allowed you to be hanged?

So, said the poet, somewhat disappointed in his amorous hopes.  You had no other idea in marrying me than to save me from the gibbet?

And what other idea did you suppose that I had?

Gringoire bit his lips.  Come, said he, I am not yet so triumphant in Cupido, as I thought.  But then, what was the good of breaking that poor jug?

Meanwhile Esmeralda's dagger and the goat's horns were still upon the defensive.

Mademoiselle Esmeralda, said the poet, let us come to terms.  I am not a clerk of the court, and I shall not go to law with you for thus carrying a dagger in Paris, in the teeth of the ordinances and prohibitions of M. the Provost. Nevertheless, you are not ignorant of the fact that Noel Lescrivain was condemned, a week ago, to pay ten Parisian sous, for having carried a cutlass.  But this is no affair of mine, and I will come to the point.  I swear to you, upon my share of Paradise, not to approach you without your leave and permission, but do give me some supper.

The truth is, Gringoire was, like M. Despreaux, not very voluptuous.  He did not belong to that chevalier and musketeer species, who take young girls by assault.  In the matter of love, as in all other affairs, he willingly assented to temporizing and adjusting terms; and a good supper, and an amiable tête-a-tête appeared to him, especially when he was hungry, an excellent interlude between the prologue and the catastrophe of a love adventure.

The gypsy did not reply.  She made her disdainful little grimace, drew up her head like a bird, then burst out laughing, and the tiny poniard disappeared as it had come, without Gringoire being able to see where the wasp concealed its sting.

A moment later, there stood upon the table a loaf of rye bread, a slice of bacon, some wrinkled apples and a jug of beer.  Gringoire began to eat eagerly.  One would have said, to hear the furious clashing of his iron fork and his earthenware plate, that all his love had turned to appetite.

The young girl seated opposite him, watched him in silence, visibly preoccupied with another thought, at which she smiled from time to time, while her soft hand caressed the intelligent head of the goat, gently pressed between her knees.

A candle of yellow wax illuminated this scene of voracity and revery.

Meanwhile, the first cravings of his stomach having been stilled, Gringoire felt some false shame at perceiving that nothing remained but one apple.

You do not eat, Mademoiselle Esmeralda?

She replied by a negative sign of the head, and her pensive glance fixed itself upon the vault of the ceiling.

What the deuce is she thinking of? thought Gringoire, staring at what she was gazing at; 'tis impossible that it can be that stone dwarf carved in the keystone of that arch, which thus absorbs her attention.  What the deuce!  I can bear the comparison!

He raised his voice, Mademoiselle!

She seemed not to hear him.

He repeated, still more loudly, Mademoiselle Esmeralda!

Trouble wasted.  The young girl's mind was elsewhere, and Gringoire's voice had not the power to recall it.  Fortunately, the goat interfered.  She began to pull her mistress gently by the sleeve.

What dost thou want, Djali? said the gypsy, hastily, as though suddenly awakened.

She is hungry, said Gringoire, charmed to enter into conversation. Esmeralda began to crumble some bread, which Djali ate gracefully from the hollow of her hand.

Moreover, Gringoire did not give her time to resume her revery.  He hazarded a delicate question.

So you don't want me for your husband?

The young girl looked at him intently, and said, No.

For your lover? went on Gringoire.

She pouted, and replied, No.

For your friend? pursued Gringoire.

She gazed fixedly at him again, and said, after a momentary reflection, Perhaps.

This perhaps, so dear to philosophers, emboldened Gringoire.

Do you know what friendship is? he asked.

Yes, replied the gypsy; it is to be brother and sister; two souls which touch without mingling, two fingers on one hand.

And love? pursued Gringoire.

Oh! love! said she, and her voice trembled, and her eye beamed.  That is to be two and to be but one.  A man and a woman mingled into one angel.  It is heaven.

The street dancer had a beauty as she spoke thus, that struck Gringoire singularly, and seemed to him in perfect keeping with the almost oriental exaltation of her words. Her pure, red lips half smiled; her serene and candid brow became troubled, at intervals, under her thoughts, like a mirror under the breath; and from beneath her long, drooping, black eyelashes, there escaped a sort of ineffable light, which gave to her profile that ideal serenity which Raphael found at the mystic point of intersection of virginity, maternity, and divinity.

Nevertheless, Gringoire continued,--

What must one be then, in order to please you?

A man.

And I-- said he, what, then, am I?

A man has a hemlet on his head, a sword in his hand, and golden spurs on his heels.

Good, said Gringoire, without a horse, no man.  Do you love any one?

As a lover?--

Yes.

She remained thoughtful for a moment, then said with a peculiar expression: That I shall know soon.

Why not this evening? resumed the poet tenderly.  Why not me?

She cast a grave glance upon him and said,--

I can never love a man who cannot protect me.

Gringoire colored, and took the hint.  It was evident that the young girl was alluding to the slight assistance which he had rendered her in the critical situation in which she had found herself two hours previously.  This memory, effaced by his own adventures of the evening, now recurred to him.  He smote his brow.

By the way, mademoiselle, I ought to have begun there. Pardon my foolish absence of mind.  How did you contrive to escape from the claws of Quasimodo?

This question made the gypsy shudder.

Oh! the horrible hunchback, said she, hiding her face in her hands.  And she shuddered as though with violent cold.

Horrible, in truth, said Gringoire, who clung to his idea; but how did you manage to escape him?

La Esmeralda smiled, sighed, and remained silent.

Do you know why he followed you? began Gringoire again, seeking to return to his question by a circuitous route.

I don't know, said the young girl, and she added hastily, but you were following me also, why were you following me?

In good faith, responded Gringoire, I don't know either.

Silence ensued.  Gringoire slashed the table with his knife. The young girl smiled and seemed to be gazing through the wall at something.  All at once she began to sing in a barely articulate voice,--

    ~Quando las pintadas aves,    Mudas estan, y la tierra~--*

 *  When the gay-plumaged birds grow weary, and the earth--

 She broke off abruptly, and began to caress Djali.

That's a pretty animal of yours, said Gringoire.

She is my sister, she answered.

Why are you called 'la Esmeralda?' asked the poet.

I do not know.

But why?

She drew from her bosom a sort of little oblong bag, suspended from her neck by a string of adrézarach beads.  This bag exhaled a strong odor of camphor.  It was covered with green silk, and bore in its centre a large piece of green glass, in imitation of an emerald.

Perhaps it is because of this, said she.

Gringoire was on the point of taking the bag in his hand. She drew back.

Don't touch it!  It is an amulet.  You would injure the charm or the charm would injure you.

The poet's curiosity was more and more aroused.

Who gave it to you?

She laid one finger on her mouth and concealed the amulet in her bosom.  He tried a few more questions, but she hardly replied.

What is the meaning of the words, 'la Esmeralda?'

I don't know, said she.

To what language do they belong?

They are Egyptian, I think.

I suspected as much, said Gringoire, you are not a native of France?

I don't know.

Are your parents alive?

She began to sing, to an ancient air,--   ~Mon père est oiseau,   Ma mère est oiselle. B   Je passe l'eau sans nacelle,   Je passe l'eau sans bateau,   Ma mère est oiselle,  Mon père est oiseau~.*

 *  My father is a bird, my mother is a bird.  I cross the water without a barque, I cross the water without a boat. My mother is a bird, my father is a bird.

 Good, said Gringoire.  At what age did you come to France?

When I was very young.

And when to Paris?

Last year.  At the moment when we were entering the papal gate I saw a reed warbler flit through the air, that was at the end of August; I said, it will be a hard winter.

So it was, said Gringoire, delighted at this beginning of a conversation.  I passed it in blowing my fingers.  So you have the gift of prophecy?

She retired into her laconics again.

Is that man whom you call the Duke of Egypt, the chief of your tribe?

Yes.

But it was he who married us, remarked the poet timidly.

She made her customary pretty grimace.

I don't even know your name.

My name?  If you want it, here it is,--Pierre Gringoire.

I know a prettier one, said she.

Naughty girl! retorted the poet.  Never mind, you shall not provoke me.  Wait, perhaps you will love me more when you know me better; and then, you have told me your story with so much confidence, that I owe you a little of mine.  You must know, then, that my name is Pierre Gringoire, and that I am a son of the farmer of the notary's office of Gonesse. My father was hung by the Burgundians, and my mother disembowelled by the Picards, at the siege of Paris, twenty years ago.  At six years of age, therefore, I was an orphan, without a sole to my foot except the pavements of Paris.  I do not know how I passed the interval from six to sixteen.  A fruit dealer gave me a plum here, a baker flung me a crust there; in the evening I got myself taken up by the watch, who threw me into prison, and there I found a bundle of straw.  All this did not prevent my growing up and growing thin, as you see. In the winter I warmed myself in the sun, under the porch of the Hôtel de Sens, and I thought it very ridiculous that the fire on Saint John's Day was reserved for the dog days.  At sixteen, I wished to choose a calling.  I tried all in succession. I became a soldier; but I was not brave enough.  I became a monk; but I was not sufficiently devout; and then I'm a bad hand at drinking.  In despair, I became an apprentice of the woodcutters, but I was not strong enough; I had more of an inclination to become a schoolmaster; 'tis true that I did not know how to read, but that's no reason.  I perceived at the end of a certain time, that I lacked something in every direction; and seeing that I was good for nothing, of my own free will I became a poet and rhymester.  That is a trade which one can always adopt when one is a vagabond, and it's better than stealing, as some young brigands of my acquaintance advised me to do.  One day I met by luck, Dom Claude Frollo, the reverend archdeacon of Notre-Dame.  He took an interest in me, and it is to him that I to-day owe it that I am a veritable man of letters, who knows Latin from the ~de Officiis~ of Cicero to the mortuology of the Celestine Fathers, and a barbarian neither in scholastics, nor in politics, nor in rhythmics, that sophism of sophisms.  I am the author of the Mystery which was presented to-day with great triumph and a great concourse of populace, in the grand hall of the Palais de Justice. I have also made a book which will contain six hundred pages, on the wonderful comet of 1465, which sent one man mad.  I have enjoyed still other successes.  Being somewhat of an artillery carpenter, I lent a hand to Jean Mangue's great bombard, which burst, as you know, on the day when it was tested, on the Pont de Charenton, and killed four and twenty curious spectators.  You see that I am not a bad match in marriage.  I know a great many sorts of very engaging tricks, which I will teach your goat; for example, to mimic the Bishop of Paris, that cursed Pharisee whose mill wheels splash passers-by the whole length of the Pont aux Meuniers. And then my mystery will bring me in a great deal of coined money, if they will only pay me.  And finally, I am at your orders, I and my wits, and my science and my letters, ready to live with you, damsel, as it shall please you, chastely or joyously; husband and wife, if you see fit; brother and sister, if you think that better.

Gringoire ceased, awaiting the effect of his harangue on the young girl.  Her eyes were fixed on the

Reviews for Notre-Dame de Paris The Hunchback of Notre Dame

[justagirlwithabook · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Yikes. I didn't know what I was signing up for when I invited people to join me in a buddy read of what is more commonly known as The Hunchback of Notre Dame. Part of me wishes to apologize even (we were all so excited and then it turned out the way it did). It started out good, funny even, and then it turned ugly really quickly. I don't know that there was one honorable male character in the whole book, but at least the pet goat didn't die, and we'll always have that. Was it a valuable reading experience? Yes. Will I ever pick it up again? Nope.

[dandelionroots · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

While reading, I was considering the merits of abridged versions of classical works, but at the end - FUCK.My only experience with this tale was Disney - I knew their version was rot-your-teeth, sugar coated but duuuuuuude.SPOILER ALERT:In the late 1400s, a priest is infatuated with a gypsy girl who is in love with a soldier who is a P.O.S. (except when compared with the priest then he comes out favorably). The soldier is about to get lucky with the gypsy girl when the priest intervenes and stabs him. The gypsy girl is arrested and sentenced to hang as a witch. The hunchback (saved and raised by the priest) is also infatuated with the gypsy girl - he at least respects her bubble and moreso seems to recognize her as a human being - and thus rescues her from the scaffold temporarily protecting her with the sanctuary of Notre Dame ('cept that's the priest's crib!). The gypsy ends up "escaping" the church to find her long-lost mother grieving in a self-inflicted, weather-exposed dungeon (prayer cell). The guard catches up with her - her mother's skull is bashed in while the gypsy hangs. The hunchback pushes the priest off the ramparts of Notre Dame then finds and cuddles up with the corpse of the gypsy, rotting together. The soldier survived and marries (fate worse than death for him).I wish I could call this a caricature, but that would imply that it's exaggerated - this is the depth of absurdity that society had reached and the descent continues.But apparently it's really about the importance of preserving architecture from earlier ages. Aye, aye Hugo.#drunkreview

[aliceanna-1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I hadn't read this since I was in high school and had forgotten how good it is. Unrequited love for everyone (except perhaps Gregoire and Djali). Quasimodo is such a tragic character ... it makes your heart ache for him. The only reason I'm not giving it 5 stars is because of a couple of the ridiculously long sidetracks that Hugo gets on. I just skipped right through them, but the story and the characters are so good, I really wish he'd just stuck with that.

[electrascaife · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Welp, *that* was different from the Disney movie. And I loved it. I found the details about the cathedral and the city of Paris both lovely and a bit of a slog, if that's possible, but the story itself was fantastic, with an ending that I both loved and hated and loved to hate. The dark humor sprinkled throughout was wonderful and almost all the characters were excellently well-drawn. Esmeralda herself, funnily enough, is the only exception here, whose one-sidedness was doubly annoying - annoying for being one-sided, and also that one side of her character was itself frustratingly simple and meek. Overall, though, I'm thoroughly happy that I read this one, finally.

[bookomaniac-1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Zeer onwaarschijnlijk verhaal, maar wel zeer sterke sfeerschepping en tot op grote hoogte meeslepend. Figuren:-Frollo: soort van Faust (zelfs uitdrukkelijke verwijzing)-Quasimodo: het menselijke monster-Esmeralda: intrigerend, sterke vrouw, maar toch niet goed uitgewerkt-Gringoire: praatvaar en opportunistVooral het einde is zeer ongeloofwaardig.Duidelijk snelschrijverij, maar niettemin krachttoer

[petroglyph_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This was a fun read. I was unfamiliar with most of the story or the politics, not having seen the Disney version (a lacuna now filled), and came to it mostly spoiler-free. Notre-Dame de Paris was this year’s Big French Classic (following Thérèse Raquin and Le comte de Monte-Cristo), and I’ve enjoyed working my way through this delightfully dark, if melodramatic, Gothic Novel. It felt very filmic in the way it set scenes and gathered momentum for its spectacle through imagery, and I mean that as a compliment. And of course, it featured an awesome villain -- entirely believable in his zealous self-righteousness and post facto rationalisations. Even so, a few portions of this 1831 book were a slog to get through. Not Hugo’s digressions on what 1480s Paris looked like, or his tract on Architecture vs the Printing Press, or the Alchemy subplot that went nowhere -- I was mostly on board with those. The incredibly obvious setups for later “reveals”, on the other hand, did make me check the pagecount. The intervening two centuries or so of media and storytelling do make a difference. I wasn’t too keen on the cheap melodrama, either, or the Manic Pixie Dream Girl -- a trope I tend to shun. Most of what I disliked about the book can be chalked up to its age (melodrama, unsubtle setups for reveals); and most of what I liked (opinionated author, the setting, the spectacle, and the surprising darkness) I feel are good features to have in novels. Two thumbs up!

[mojomomma_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

It took a while to get used to Hugo effusive style, and I could have read it happily without the descriptions of the Paris skyline and streets from 600 years ago, but it did capture my attention. I doubted I would be able to read it at all until I was well into it, then it went pretty rapidly. I was inspired to read this by a student who compared the original with the Disney movie of her childhood, which I have never seen, in a capstone presentation. Another classic--read at last!

[m.belljackson · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

After reading the first five pages and realizing I was in the hands of a master story teller, I started over, more slowly.Victor Hugo totally draws readers in - to each plot, location, and to the finest nuances of each character, from wild humor tothe worst human desperations. Most vividly rendered in a few words.Unfortunately, for us tender hearted, he is also the master of horror and does not hesitate to unleash his powersin many directions."The Bird's Eye View of Paris" and Notre-Dame chapters could be greatly enhanced by photographs and illustrations.1/2 Star missing because of the wholly untimely and boring chapter dominated by the King.

[drenglish-1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

An odd book: the narrative drive is extremely fitful, to the extent that it doesn't at times disappear (as in, say, a sixty-page disquisition on Notre Dame as an exemplar of the history of architecture), and the characterizations are sometimes bizarre (Pierre Gringoire, a self-infatuated poet who seems to develop romantic feelings towards his accidental wife's pet goat). Like a lot of authors who do their research, Hugo seems too interested in what he's turned up to let it go no matter how it clogs up the flow. Nevertheless the novel pulls you along in the series of masterful set-pieces, never greater than in the shift of perspective at Esmeralda's death, that seem to be where Hugo's real power resides.

[john257hopper · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This was a re-read, prompted by a recent viewing of the very good 1982 film version starring Anthony Hopkins and Derek Jacobi. This is of course a Gothic classic, with some amazingly descriptive passages about the Cathedral and the streets of Paris, and a stunning, dramatic and tragic last few chapters (Book 11). Hugo being Hugo, there are also some slower and frustratingly distracting sections, particularly towards the beginning of the novel in the first three chapters of Book 1 and in Book 3. According to a note at the end of this edition (part of Delphi Classics Complete Works of Hugo on Kindle), some of these chapters were originally "lost" and restored in an edition published much later in Hugo's life. The novel would be better paced without them, frankly, or they could have been included in an appendix (as some of the equivalent chapters are in the Penguin paperback edition of Les Miserables, for example). Deservedly a classic for its timeless story of how one shouldn't judge character by appearances. 4.5/5

[booksontrial · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Historian, Philosopher and Poet

If I can quote one passage from Hugo's books that best reflects the author, the focus of his passions, the style and architecture of his novels, it would be the following:

"There he was, serious, motionless, absorbed - all eye, all ear, all thought. All Paris was at his feet, with the thousand spires of its buildings, and its circular horizon of gentle hills, with its river winding beneath its bridges and its people pouring through its streets, its cloud of smoke, and its mountain chain of roofs crowding close to Notre-Dame with their double slopes of mail. In this whole city the Archdeacon's eye sought just one point of the pavement, the Place du Parvis, and among the whole multitude just one figure, the Bohemian."

Hugo referred to himself as a historian, philosopher and poet. He studied history, contemplated human destiny, and expressed his ideals through his writings, i.e., through the struggles and voices of his heroes, for whom he prepared the whole world and history as the grand stage.

Ecce Notre-Dame, Ecce Homo

This book can be divided into four Parts, like four movements of a symphony, with mini climaxes in the second and third movement.

Part I: Festival of Fools (Book I-II)

Hugo introduces all the main characters in the dramatic setting of a festival in the streets of Paris in 1482. It's in the late Middle Ages, a year before the birth of Martin Luther. One of the characters is a poet, who is the thread that runs through the entire novel and at whose expense Hugo showcases his self-deprecating humor.

Part II: Ecce Notre-Dame (Book III-V)

The view zooms out, so to speak, and Hugo describes a bird's-eye view of Paris and its history as immortalized in its architecture, the centerpiece of which is Notre-Dame de Paris. Here is the most beautiful chapter of the book, a symphonic description of the life and architecture of Paris.

To paraphrase Hugo, Notre-Dame is the expression of the world. Its architecture, a transition from Roman style with its low circular arches and heavy pillars to Gothic style with its pointed arches, is a reflection of the progress of society since ancient times, from unity and hierarchy to democracy and freedom.

Hugo proclaims, "Architecture is dead". Architecture, as a means of expression for mankind, will be replaced by printing, which is cheaper and more convenient, and therefore provides more freedom of expression. If Hugo were alive today, he would perhaps predict that digital media would replace their analog counterpart, e.g. electronic books would replace printed books, and something like Wikipedia would be the new Tower of Babel.

Part III: Ecce Homo (Book VI-VIII)

After setting the historical stage, Hugo zooms in on the main character of the novel, i.e., the human face of Notre-Dame, the Archdeacon and the bell-ringer. To me, they are one person. The physical deformity of the latter illustrates the spiritual deformity of the former, and the residual tender loving-kindness in the former is magnified in the latter. (If I might add, a similar device is used in Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde and The Picture of Dorian Gray.)

The conflict is unrequited love. The Archdeacon's passionate but deadly lust for the Bohemian girl, the bell-ringer's tender but primitive devotion to her, and the Bohemian girl's love for her idol. In contrast, there are also exhilarating moments when love triumphs over lust, over baseness and over the condemning laws. When the ugly and pitiable becomes august and beautiful.

However, there is a deeper meaning underneath the conflict of unrequited love, and that's the reason, I think, why the book was once banned by the Catholic Church.

The Archdeacon represents the Church, more specifically, the religious hierarchy and laws of the Church, and the Bohemian girl, the unbeliever. The Church pursues the unbeliever, but because the religious laws bring nothing but shackles and death, the latter shrinks from him and pursues her own idol, Phoebus "the Sun god". This is made poignantly manifest when the Archdeacon claimed that only he could save the Bohemian from death and demanded her to choose between him and gallows, and she chose the latter.

Part IV: The Siege of Notre-Dame (Book IX-XI)

Finally, the view returns to the bigger stage, when the tension between hierarchy and freedom mingled with lawlessness becomes unbearable, there broke out the siege of the Notre-Dame, a figure of the siege of the Bastille. Ironically, the siege was instigated by the Archdeacon himself and the poet, signifying that revolts against the Church have their roots in its own corruption through lust. Alas, there was no freedom or deliverance except through death.

[jwhenderson_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Several years ago I both read this book and saw an adaptation of it for the stage as a musical! They were both great productions. The original began appearing in the bookshops of Paris on March 16, 1831 as a new novel from the pen of Victor Hugo, Notre-Dame de Paris. This novel, which is now popularly known as "The Hunchback of Notre Dame", tells the emotionally exhausting tale of the penniless poet, Gringoire the demonic, lecherous priest, Frollo, the handsome, empty-headed, guardsman, Captain Phoebus, the deaf bell-ringer, Quasimodo, with his hump and his wart-obscured eye, and the beautiful gypsy girl they all fall in love with: Esmeralda, whose only friend in the world is her performing goat, Djali (the name Emma Bovary gives to her lap-dog twenty-six years later). The epicenter of the novel is the Gothic cathedral. In the minds of progressive Parisians, it was a shabby relic of the barbarian past. Hugo himself explored the cathedral climbing the bell-towers and it is there that he discovered his inspiration for the story. The story is sited in 1482 at the historical crossroads when the modern world was struggling to be born and when the printed word began to dominate and annihilate that older form of writing--architecture. Hugo's own "basketful of rubble" is reminiscent of the Renaissance novelist whose tale, though gargantuan, was also thought by some to be no better than rubble (The opposite is true and the wise reader should explore the beauty of Rabelais if he has not already done so). Hugo's novel is one of the great historical romances of all time with characters in the Hunchback Quasimodo, Esmeralda and Frollo who you will never forget. The City of Paris and the Cathedral of Notre Dame also come alive in Hugo's story and you see the power of love and loyalty that can persevere in the face of evil. The theme of justice also resounds in this novel almost as much as in Les Miserables. It is clear that this was an important concept for Hugo. For lovers of romantic historical literature this is a great read.

[stbalbach_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

The Hunchback of Notre Dame is a novel written in the name of the preservation of Medieval architecture in general and the Notre Dame cathedral specifically. It was written from 1829-1832 during the period of the Romanticism movement, which has been defined as the love for all things Medieval. The titular character Quasimodo is the Middle Ages personified, a force of man's nature surrounded by superstitions both Pagan and Christian. In the end he must die along with the age and the things that gave the cathedral a soul. Through his death the reader is moved to a sense of justice, and preservation.I greatly enjoyed this important novel, it was one of the first to depict a range of characters from all classes including a begger as a main character. Although parts of the plot seem cliche like genre fiction, it's somewhat excusable given its age, and in a way adds to its fairy-tale quality. The novel doesn't take itself too seriously and indeed has flashes of humor and meta-fiction that lifts it up, unlike the heavier fire and brimstone Les Misérables. The novel reminded me of early Dickens with its large cast, pretensions to theater, humor and themes of social justice. In fact Dickens was influenced by the novel published years before Pickwick Papers. Finally Hugo's skills as a poet are central to the quality of the prose, his metaphors are delightful, unforced and appropriate (at least in this translation by Catherine Liu).I "read" the novel in the audiobook narrated by George Guidall (1991) and he brings subtle but effective characterizations in a way my own inner voice would have missed. The novel is improved by the audio version.. which doesn't always happen but in this case it came together well.

[fothpaul · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

A bit tedious. The book seems to have had some sort of alternative agenda, but I'm a little unsure about what this was supposed to be. It hasn't aged well in my opinion, and I'm sure it would have been better received by Hugo's peers than by me.It took me a long time to read through the book and I found my thoughts wandering off quite a lot. The author has spent more time describing the architecture of 15th century Paris than his characters. This seemed to have been a dig at the architects of the 19th century, but was a little contrived and not particularly relevant for the rest of the story.

[ctpress_1 · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

This novel was a disappointing read. Disappointing because Les Miserable was so good. The tragic story is in itself a good one - and of course with the tragic hero climbing around at the top of Notre Dame as it's main imaginative creation. The other characters are deeply flawed characters: One enormously proud priest - a pompous poet - an angry hysterical poor woman, a violent captain and of course the irritatingly vain Esmeralda. The writing is full of over-the-top emotions, theatrical outbursts en masse and the characters remain very stereotype. It's very difficult to take serious in any way. To make matters worse, Hugo decides to insert long chapters on the history of Paris and a detail description of Notre Dame and other historical stuff. Come on, Hugo. Do we have to inspect every single corner of that church?The Huncback have been retold many times, and it might work very well as an opera or in an very abridged retold version for children. As it is read here - the original story - it's a no go.

[garypatella · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Decent story, but not wonderful. There was one moment that I believe was supposed to come as a shock and a big twist, but Hugo laid everything out in such a way as to make the surprise EXTREMELY predictable. Is it worth reading? Yes. Is it one of the best novels ever? Definitely not.

[notesmusings · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

It's hard to read this great novel through all the noise created by subsequent adaptions, send-ups and other references. But the essential story is clear enough. The 16 year old Esmerelda has been raised by gypsies and tours with them as a dancer. She is a model of youth, beauty, grace, compassion vitality and innocence. Like her, the grotesque hunchback Quasimodo has lost his parents. He was abandoned as a baby and left to the care of the Church, where he became the bell-ringer in the famous Church. The book tells their interwoven tales. The book can also be seen as a study of males and their faults. Esmerelda stirs interest where-ever she goes, but rarely brings out the best in men. Archdeacon Claude Frollo is a cold intellectual, product of a joyless youth: unattractive in his person, dried-up inside, he is obsessed by his sterile struggle with alchemy, until Esmelda comes along. Once released, his sexual passion flare up within him but emerge out only as cold machinations and wild pronouncements unlikely to appeal to a teen girl. He exemplifies the Church's disconnect between mind and body and between the male and female. Phoebus is a dashing soldier who rescues Esmerelda at one stage, as a more or less routine duty while on patrol keeping the peace, and in doing so wins her heart. But under his gentlemanly polish he is a boor and brute. Gregoire the writer is amiable but weak. Jehan, the only major male character not linked romantically to Esmerelda, has abundant vitality wasted on a dissolute lifestyle.Her mother, tortured by the kidnapping of her daughter as a tot, has had herself walled into a small room with barred windows opening to the public, a concept developed elsewhere in the feminist novel Women in the Wall. Victor Hugo remarks in passing that this sort of self-mortifying behaviour elicited only moderate compassion from the medieval populace, due to their limited sense of personality, of the world stored within each individual. It is strange, for the modern reader, to encounter vast wads of historical description, anecdote and conjecture, sometimes occupying a whole massive chapter. In that way it reminded me of Moby Dick.

[sweet_serenity · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

This would be my advice to Victor Hugo. If I had a time machine I would travel to a time just before he published this book, and give him an intervention.

Dear Mr. Hugo,

Firstly, may I say that I am a big fan of your future work, Le Miserables. And because of that, I cannot accept The Hunchback of Notre Dame as you have written it. If it were written by a different author, I would dismiss this as a three star novel, not terrible, but not a book I would read again if I had the chance. But in the future you will write a masterpiece, and so I rate this a two star novel, for failed potential.

The plot is magnificent. But you have written this story all wrong. You destroyed the mysteries- Esmerelda's enemy, and her mother, by revealing the information too soon, and not using the early revelation to create tension and anticipation in the reader to be sustained throughout the story. Leave things unexplained- it gives you the chance to surprise us later on. Readers love to be surprised.

You made the story less fun to read, by woefully neglecting Esmerelda and Quasimodo (the only sympathetic characters) perspectives. By all means, give us glimpses of the perspective of the villainous archdeacon (no, DON'T! Frankly his perspective disturbed me greatly), use Gringoire's perspective to introduce the book, and show how the mysterious Esmerelda looks to a stranger, give Jehan a few lines to add some wit. But all of that should come to less than a quarter of the book. YOU CREATED TWO AMAZING, SYMPATHETIC, UNIQUE CHARACTERS. GIVE THEM THE VOICE THEY DESERVE!

I admire your story, but the story telling in this novel is incredibly disappointing. I sincerely wish you could have a do-over, rewrite this story with the wisdom and genius you will accumulate by the time you write Le Miserables.

Thankyou for listening,

Goodbye from,
An admirer and well-wisher, a friend.

[helenliz_1 · Rating: 1 out of 5 stars]

 This was difficult going. As ever with Hugo, there's an awful lot of very detaild description of things that are, of themsleves, quite interesting, but it doesn't half slow plot development. Things seem to happen in bursts with not a lot in the chapters in between.

Maybe it took me too long to read it, maybe I didn't allow long enough to get really into it at once, but this was hard going.

[shanaqui_1 · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

I liked it, but it didn't leave much of an impression on me. Might reread.

[duffdaddy-1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

When one is doing evil 'tis madness to stop half-way.

[quaintlittlehead · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

"The Hunchback of Notre Dame" is my first Victor Hugo, and the comments I had previously heard about the vividness of his descriptive prose were certainly proved by this work. By the halfway point in the book, it seemed as if not very much had happened yet, but once I got used to the style, I didn't really mind. The story has a satisfying ambiguity to it; there is not just a black and white delineation between hero and villain, nor are the moral points of the story overtly spelled out. The reader walks away with lots to think about from the plot alone; intermingled with this are Hugo's interesting ideas about how literature has supplanted the role of architecture in society (in a chapter which, strangely, was almost lost to history). Many have posited the role of Notre Dame itself as a character in the book, but Hugo too almost becomes a character, in that the way this story gets told probably could not have been told the same by anyone else. This is one of those strange books that doesn't take hold as an immediate favourite and yet won't get its hooks out of you.The Barnes and Noble edition features a nice introduction by Isabel Roche, who in the series' featured "Inspired by This Work" section is far kinder to the Disney version of this story than I would have expected. Her footnotes are immensely helpful throughout the book, her endnotes less so. If you are a reader who perpetually gets exhausted by having your pinky finger in the back of a very large volume, skipping the few pages of endnotes probably won't bother you too much.

[ursula_2 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

In some ways, this reads like an odd book. If you read it for the story involving Esmeralda, the beautiful young gypsy girl, Quasimodo the hunchback bell-ringer and Frollo the archdeacon, you may be put off or annoyed by the digressions into the layout of Paris, or the architecture of Notre Dame, or a treatise on architecture in general and why newer isn't always better. For me, I found it created some odd pacing and I wondered if perhaps at one time it was more common to set a scene in such minute detail. But in reading about the book after the fact, I see that in many ways, the story about Esmeralda and company are actually the digressions from the main text, which was Hugo's views about Gothic architecture. Well, it's probably a good thing he put a story around all of that, or it probably would have been a hard sell. (His views, by the way, boil down to "Kids these days! Get off my lawn!")So all right, back to the story that people actually want to read - the gypsy, the bell-ringer, the handsome captain, the archdeacon, and of course, the goat. While reading, I was a little surprised by how few good guys there were - it was very interesting to see that beauty didn't equate to good in Hugo's world. In fact, the moral of the story might be instead of "all that glitters is not gold," "all that glitters is not only not gold, it's got a sharp edge that was probably dipped in poison." As far as the writing goes, for a novel written in the early 1800s, the story skipped along quite quickly, and although some twists were telegraphed far ahead of time, others weren't at all. Well worth the read.Recommended for: people who only know the Disney version of the story, those intimately familiar with Paris, people who prefer animals to humans.Quote: "And then, from morning till night, I have the happiness of passing all my days with a man of genius, who is myself, which is very agreeable."

[amerynth · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

It was interesting to read "The Hunchback of Notre Dame" after reading Victor Hugo's masterpiece "Les Miserables." I really enjoyed "Hunchback" but couldn't help but feel it was like reading "Les Miserables" light.Central to the story is Notre Dame-- around which most of the action takes place. A corrupt priest, a gypsy girl with a counting goat and, of course, the hunchback in the title, are interesting (and at times frustrating) characters. The story moves long aside from Hugo's trademark digressions into French history.I liked this book a lot, but if you're only going to read one book by Hugo in your lifetime, this isn't the one, of course!

[jalenv_2 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Although I would have preferred that Mr. Hugo's digressions, such as the one about architecture through history, had been stuck in an appendix; I still enjoyed most of the book. The scene where poor Quasimodo was defending Notre Dame was very exciting. Imagine my dismay when I eagerly changed to the next CD and discovered Mr. Hugo had decided to interrupt the action for an annoying-sourly amusing-creepy scene involving King Louis XI, his finances, and some prisoners. Esmeralda's escape attempt left me tense even though I knew what to expect from my late mother's copy of Plot Outlines of 100 Famous Novels. There were times I wanted to scream in frustration at our heroine, but she wasn't even 17, poor kid. There's far more going on than any movie could hope to cover. Speaking of movies, I wonder how kids who grew up on the Disney version are going to react if they have to read the book for school. (One of my sisters read The Hunchback of Notre Dameit in school decades ago and remembered enough of the plot to be able to discuss it with me. That's staying power!)Mr. Guidall's narration was very good, too. I'm sorry that I waited so long to read this classic. While I think I can appreciate it more as a middle-aged adult than I would have in high school or college, I can think of books I had to read then that were much less enjoyable than this one.

[swampygirl-1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Much more poignant, dramatic and even comical then I had been expecting.

[aketzle · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Very cool how much research went into making this a learning experience about Paris in this time period, as well as a fantastic story. Learned a lot about architecture and all kinds of things. This is why I love historically accurate fiction!

[schmerguls · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

When I finished this book I said: "Finished tonight (it's 11:45) Hunchback of Notre Dame. There is no doubt: Victor Hugo could write (yet...in way it seems forced: like I would write if I could."

[jkorta_2 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This is the kind of book that excites your deepest imaginative spaces and populates your dreams with dancing visions of gargoyles and gypsies... As Hugo admits himself, "if the book has any merit it is in being a work of imagination, of caprice and of fantasy." True, weaved into the larger-than-life story about impossible love, Hugo tries to paint perspectives upon a lively Paris of the early French Renaissance in the year 1482. He allows himself a good many digressions on architecture, on the cityscape and on quasi-historical points which might put off a reader interested exclusively in a good quick plot. Still as any reader will notice and hopefully feel, architecture, Paris and its layout, the people, and especially the eponymous cathedral of Notre Dame, play a crucial role in the way this story is told. These are not only elements in the background, setting the scene, they provide the bricks and raw material for the story. The imposing cathedral itself emerges as narrator and central character, a story-teller in its facade and - incarnated by the mythical Quasimodo in all of its bodily contradictions - a central player in the story. Hugo is trying to build a story the size of oral tradition, with the obscure feel of the middle ages, a story steeped in tradition and myth. His readers back in 1831 would also have recognized the power which he grants the people and popular revolution, and which he implies were unleashed with the printing press. Part indulgence in nostalgia, part concession to fate, the Hunchback of Notre-Dame ("Notre-Dame de Paris" in French) praises the Gothic art and esoteric science of the declining middle ages, while celebrating its demise and the glimmer portending of better things to come.

[crewman_number_6 · Rating: 1 out of 5 stars]

Could this book be anymore slow and boring? I think it took about 4 chapter just for him to walk down the street. Maybe I am just a victim of the modern literary style, but I like the author to get to the point. If I wanted to know every last detail of Paris, I would read a history book.