fantiine

[fantiine]

never forget when in the restaged version they originally cut the instrumental opening to idad and i cried for joy upon hearing it back again.

#* ❛ ooc ❜ #i'm a brick blog i tell myself as i post about the musical #i also cried when it didn't play the first time i saw the restaged version knowing that was what was coming to london #but then they put it back thank god #too bad everything else is shit xoxo

[fantiine]

i’m seeing les mis again next month and honestly i’m not planning on going again any time soon afterwards.

#* ❛ ooc ❜ #i miss my version #i hate so many of the changes #and after the way i was treated last time (at my 50th time seeing the show!! ruined over something as stupid as travelling to london #and wanting food for the way home (aka i had a sandwich packed at the bottom of my bag)) #and a security guy yelled at me over it #i wouldn't even be going in september if we didn't have a credit note to use from after all the covid cancellations #i hate that the show i love is gone #and now they have the awful imitation in its placee #anyway how is everyone else

[fantiine]

“ She would have softened a heart of granite; but a heart of wood cannot be softened. ”

— Les Misérables, Fantine's Arrest ( Illustrated by Adriano Minardi, 1930 )

#* ❛ innocence floating high over fault ( fantine ) ❜ #* ❛ he judged and condemned ( javert ) ❜

[fantiine]

thinking about how there was two/three years between fantine selling her hair and her death, so she very likely had hair past her shoulders again by the time she died

#* ❛ ooc ❜ #don't mind me just sobbing #don't think about her determined to sell it again if she needs to

[fantiine]

TO SEE A CHANGE IN HER daughter these recent weeks was obvious to her mother’s gaze. Attuned so tightly to her beloved child, the slightest deviation from the norm set her heart a-fluttering with worry. And yet she pulled herself from rushing to the girl’s side, lest she smother her with her fears. Fantine had little idea of how to be a mother, being so lacking herself, and the other failures she had made in her life had her terrified to commit to another. And so she watched, waiting and hoping Cosette would come to her.

And, oh, what a question to be asked by such a sweet creature! Was this mother to teach her darling girl the joys of first love, or would it benefit Cosette further to be warned of the dangers? Would the tale of her mother’s downfall make her cautious in her own dealings with the strange creatures known as men, or simply frighten her? It was an internal battle all her days, whether attempting to protect her child from the cruelty of the world was just denying her a full life.

“That’s quite the question, my love,” she said, cupping her daughter’s chin gently with one hand. Fantine was all at once struck by the realisation of how much her little one had grown, her head almost above her mother’s. At Cosette’s age, she had made her way to Paris to seek her fortune -- and how that had panned out. A soft stab of pain had the corner’s of her eyes tightening, and she glanced down for a moment to rid herself of the memories of him. However many years passed, the memory of him still made her blood boil. And yet without him, she would not have her angel.

“I suppose it is a great many things,” she said at last, trying to keep the worry from her smile. “I don’t quite know where to begin. What makes you ask?”

TO      BE      IN      LOVE                is    like    falling    into    a    reverie ,          recalling    a    haunting    halcyon    to    the    forefront    of    the    mind.          to    love    is    a    rebirth  ;      a    butterfly    freed    from    its    pupal    cage ,          vernal    chrysalis    shattering    at    last.             with    love ,          however ,          like    all    other    things ,          comes    longing                       a    tug    between    virtue        ⅋        sin ,          dreams          ⅋        reality ,          suffocating    desire    tucked    away  ;      crushed ,          torn    apart ,          set    ablaze ,          shattering    like    gelid    verglas.          (   iwantiwantiwant    it    chants ,          reverberating    through    the    mind’s    walls ,          dream    sheltered    like    a    child’s    precious    secret.   )

❛❛           why      won’t      you      tell      me      what      happened   ?          ❜❜            (   @fantiine​.   ) ¹

to    long        ⅋         to    love    are    inseparable    from    one    other  ;      what    comes    from     love     if    not    desire   ?            oh ,          how    she    longed    for    their    clandestine    trysts ,        moonlight    transfiguring    clusters    of    grime    into    flecks    of    moondust.          oh ,          how    she    would    flee    with    the    gentleman    if    he    ever    dared    to    asked  ;      to    lie    down    in    eiderdown  ;        as    though    she    were    a    child    once    more ,          clinging    to    the    memory    of    an    imaginary    friend.          (     ❛❛         monsieur ,          you    are    handsome ,         you    are    good - looking ,           you    are    witty ,          you    are    not    at    all    stupid ,           you    are    much    more    learned    than    i    am ,           but    i    bid    you    defiance    with    this    word  :      i    love    you   !          ❜❜     )  ²

❛❛          maman ,          ❜❜            the    name    spills   out   like   molasses ,          timbre    carries    hesitation    as    a    swift    brush    at    her    skirt    causes    grime    to     fall    to     the    floor.          a    bite    of    the    tongue    keeps    her    from    groaning ,          vexation    harboring    in    the    pit    of    her    stomach.           ❛❛          …      what    is    it    like                   ❜❜          a    pause.           ❛❛          being    in    love ,          i    mean.          ❜❜

#lahnoire #* ❛ v : so different from this hell i’m living ❜ #fantine the moment cosette does anything out of the ordinary ARE YOU OKAY PLEASE TELL ME OH MY GOD #cause of fantine's heart attacks: cosette growing up and discovering ~*~boys~*~ #also i love this so much

[fantiine]

screen adaptations of les mis make fantine blonde and cosette brunette challenge

#* ❛ ooc ❜ #this is why i have it use musical promos

[fantiine]

okay so last night i was scrolling through one of my fave les mis blogs and the topic of headcanons around fantine and enjolras came up. and i know there are so many parallels between them, but i had never considered that it is entirely feasible that they are……siblings. fantine is ten years older than him, a perfectly normal sibling age range. and now i’m thinking about fantine big-sistering les amis and her baby brother and weeping

#* ❛ ooc ❜ #i still think about this

[fantiine]

dxdger​:

Dodger grinned at the reaction, been mostly what he was hoping would happen, and he smiled all the wider as Fantine recognized him in turn. Reaching out to to take her hands in the merry embrace, he fought the urge to swing them back’n forth as he might’ve done when they was younger. 

“Fantine,” Dodger returned, echoing his own name with her’s. My, it felt wonderful to be saying her name again, the fond memories of their childhood together rushing into his chest at the chance to say her name again. “If you’re wishful of it certainly. I ain’t having nowhere to be, and I want to catch up, of course.”

EVEN SMALL TOWNS FORGOT THEIR INHABITANTS eventually, and the vagrant children of the streets were wiped from memory faster than most. But those same children grasped those memories with both hands, lest they lose one more thing. Fantine did, at the very least — she had remembered each and every haunt, each kindness or injustice she had faced when small. For one with nothing, memories made up most of her wealth.

It felt easy to slip her arm around his, even if the motion brought back some unpleasant flashes of being on the arm of another man. But he was far away, diligently ignoring her and her child, and she had long decided to never think of him again.

“Have you been here this whole time?” she asked, curiosity dripping from her voice. She had taken the first chance to leave, accepting work at a farm when she was ten. It felt strange to think of Dodger remaining behind, while she was off thinking herself on a grand adventure. Life had seen to it she was put back in her place.

#dxdger #* ❛ v : innocent sister ❜

[fantiine]

Careful the things you say Children will listen

#* ❛ innocence floating high over fault ( fantine ) ❜ #* ❛ the poor treasure ( cosette ) ❜ #* ❛ her good angel ( valjean ) ❜ #* ❛ queue ❜

[fantiine]

a lil redraw

#* ❛ innocence floating high over fault ( fantine ) ❜ #* ❛ the poor treasure ( cosette ) ❜ #* ❛ queue ❜

[fantiine]

it’s so funny how many people misread the lines:

“An hour later, when she had returned to her room, she wept. It was her first love affair, as we have said; she had given herself to this Tholomyès as to a husband, and the poor girl had a child.”

like. fantine’s not pregnant here, and just didn’t tell tholomyès. cosette is already two when he abandons them. he full on knew he was abandoning his daughter.

#* ❛ ooc ❜ #if she was pregnant it would be with child anyway #cosette is almost three 8 months later according to the brick #this bastard knew exactly what he was doing #also fantine wrote him letters and never got a reply #fuck tholomyès

[fantiine]

unfrgivble​:

lyric starters // the proposal/the night was alive // @fantiine​

—–   "   𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐋𝐘   𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐊𝐄   .   .   .   𝐅𝐄𝐖   𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒.   i   kept   myself   to   myself.   quite   alone.   “

IT WAS A FAMILIAR TALE TO a girl who had grown alone on the cobbles of the streets. Her head tilted to better see his face, but she didn’t speak for a moment. Her hands remained curled in the thinning fabric of her skirts.

“I struggle to connect with people,” she eventually said. “I never had anyone to teach me how. I try but... I never seem to quite manage it.”

#unfrgivble #❛ v : then it all went wrong ❜

[fantiine]

dxdger​:

@fantiine is getting a plotted starter! 

“Been awhile,” Dodger murmurs into the woman’s ear, wide grin on his face. And it has been awhile since he saw the woman–a good five years mayhap?–but he’s knowing her pretty golden hair anywhere. “My, look at you dressed all respectable like? Found yourself a job, huh? It’s good to see you.” 

For his own part, Dodger ain’t near nothing in the way of respectable, doesn’t near think he has a respectable bone in his entire body, but he ain’t ‘bout to knock a body what has a stable income and food in their belly, it just ain’t the life for Dodger. Leaning back against a nearby wall, he nods a little bit. “You been taking care of yourself, yeah?

THE SOUND OF A VOICE AT her ear had her jumping away, spinning to face whoever it was had spoken. For the split second before recognition dawned, a fear clutched at her throat. No one yet had known her, and Fantine had found it a blessing and a curse. But that recognition did shine in her eyes, and a smile lit up her face.

“Dodger!” she cried, reaching out to take his hands, a habit she had picked up in Paris. “I had lost hope on seeing anyone I once knew. It’s so nice to see a friendly face.” She paused for breath for a moment, releasing just one of his hands to glance about. “Will you come for a walk with me? So we can catch up?”

#dxdger #* ❛ v : innocent sister ❜ #i already love them 😭

[fantiine]

[Your url but  you change it with the following criterion:

Every “i” is replaced by “iii”  Every “e” is replaced by “c” Every “o” & “a” is replaced by “x” Add “isms” to the end of it

#fxntiiiiiincisms #oh good lord #* ❛ ooc ❜

[fantiine]

THERE ARE SO MANY QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS THAT SOMEHOW SEEM WRONG

#* ❛ promo ❜ #when i tell you i screamed #at seeing a cosette again 🥺

[fantiine]

vampyras​:

he was very pale, and his eyes seemed at once glazed over by a union of doggish hunger and turbid sickness wrapped into one.  pale gaze held her own for as long as she would stand,  the silence between their lips becoming so suffocating that the narrow road itself seemed choked of life and light with darkness ever closing in.   

when next his steps began down the cobbled street,  he made to linger beneath one of the tawny fire-lit lamps that would guide the city’s denizens to and from those hovels and into the beauty of the bustling streets where violinists wrote their plays.  the light was lurid across his skin, reflecting back as if he were a mirror made entirely of ash or snow.   well,  this was true save for the pair of heart-shaped lips beneath his curved nose,  which were extraordinarily red.  were it not for the expensive burgundy fabrics and unmistakable damask that shimmered beneath the fabric of his dark cloak,  he would have posed as a phantom in the night!          though, still they did not move, did not greet the waifish woman in the slightest despite his unnatural approach.  like a voiceless, whimsical ghost, the gentleman was but mist between the lampposts,  guiding himself forward on those two long legs until he could extend to fantine his hand;  a grouping of long, cadaverous fingers that were as cold to the touch as a night’s pouring rain.   

❝     the evening is early,     ❞      the count’s voice was soft, lulled a suave timbre and sultry intonation from the country of his birth.  his fingers curled inward,  a warm gesture of his patience as he awaited decision         reject him or accept.      ❝     and while the city is a marvel to the eyes and ears,  i am in need of a distraction.     ❞

EACH AND EVERY NERVE SEEMED TO scream at her that this was wrong, that she should not be here. But had they not been telling her that since her first evening out selling her body to anyone who would pay her coin for it? A shiver ran down her spine, and she could not say whether it was from the man before her, or the thin soles of her shoes letting in the chill of the cobbles below.

She shuffled to the side, almost as if she could escape under the light of a lamp and be safe, much as a child would hide beneath their blankets. The movement brought in a hiss, her hand moving to an area that had been rubbed raw by her old stays, the boning no longer contained neatly in its channels. She hadn’t the time or the energy to fix it.

Wide, gaunt eyes looked at the hand extended to her. Did she want this? Did she have a choice? Now he was closer, Fantine could the stranger’s clothes were finely made, even more so than Tholomyès’ had been. She could not risk losing out on any sum, not when the letters were getting more and more impatient and the writing within more and more abusive towards her.

The corners of her lips curled upward, although her eyes remained just as empty as she stared up at this fearsome creature. But when she spoke, she lowered her head again, still ashamed of the gap in her teeth a small portion of her vanity still feebly trying to climb toward the light.

“Then a distraction you must have,” she declared to the street, and tried not to jolt when she finally took his hand. How strange it was! How cold, how… corpselike. Swallowing down her fear, she spoke again. “Where do you wish to go, monsieur?”

#vampyras #* ❛ v : one already dead ❜

[fantiine]

@fantineweek 2018 - day one: youth | childhood.

going off the hapgood translation available online here.

She was born at M. sur M. Of what parents? Who can say? She had never known father or mother. She was called Fantine. Why Fantine? She had never borne any other name. At the epoch of her birth the Directory still existed. She had no family name; she had no family; no baptismal name; the Church no longer existed. She bore the name which pleased the first random passer-by, who had encountered her, when a very small child, running bare-legged in the street. She received the name as she received the water from the clouds upon her brow when it rained. She was called little Fantine. No one knew more than that. This human creature had entered life in just this way. At the age of ten, Fantine quitted the town and went to service with some farmers in the neighborhood. At fifteen she came to Paris “to seek her fortune.”

this is the only paragraph we have that describes anything of her youth. as far as hugo is concerned, her story begins in 1817, when she is 21 years old and two years a mother.

fantine, as in (en)fantine - childlike. the obvious connotation there is innocence.

it is pretty much implied that fantine grows up on the street much the same way that gavroche and the mômes did. and yet hugo spends so much time after this telling us how much she is naively in love with tholomyès; how young she is, how sweet this first love is, even if tholomyès does not requite it.

that naïveté might be solely attached to her romantic inclinations, though, i think.

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#* ❛ meta ❜