introduction he wrote his masterpieces

from the character's point of view to

investigate the metaphysical aspects of
misery
heartbreak and always
Injustice the author of Crime and
Punishment fora an era of global
violence and became one of the most
important voices of Russian
culture dust's novels including the
idiot
demons and especially the brothers
karamatsu cemented his status as a giant
of 19th century Russian
literature his Timeless Works influence
the writings of prominent novelists and
intellectuals from Virginia wolf to
waran
huk and like all great authors
dostoevski praised the work of a select
view of his
predecessors and his
contemporaries he often mentioned his
favorite authors in his letters and
notes he admired the novels of his
fellow Russian writers including oblo by
Ivan gelov and in Peace by Leo Tolstoy

as well as the works of Alexander

Pushkin Nicole gool and Leo

tooy outside of his homeland the Russian

novelist was also fascinated by the
writings of Charles
Dickens honor du
balak W Scott William Shakespeare Lord
Byron dedo
and Victor
Hugo in
1876 dostoevski penned a
firstperson stream of Consciousness
narrative entitled the meek
one citing an early Hugo Nolla as a
means of justifying the fantastic idea
of writing down a person's thought
at a moment of
distress today's novel worthy of
exploration is an early work by the man
so recognized as one of France's most
distinguished
writers Mr Victor
Hugo it is indeed a lesson known work uh
then went on to exert strong influence
on many novels after it including Leo
sto The Death of Ivan
ilich Alexander
San's one day in the life of iban
denisovich and notes from a dead
house another of dostoevsky's tribute
Works to
Hugo notes from a dead
house the novel had the distinction of
being praised by fodra dooi as
absolutely Hugo's most real and truthful
of everything he ever
wrote notably the Russian author had
suffered the psychological insight of
himself being condemned to death and
suffering a mock
execution after to be
reprieved
Doo's strong connection to Hugo's book
today clearly links to the fact that the
short 66 page novel by
Hugo uniquely follows the thoughts and
emotions of a man who is sentenced to
death leading up to his
execution published in 1829
two years before his famous book The
Hunchback of Notre Dam and indeed 33
years before
leer it follows in the early footsteps
of a handful of publications of ODS
poems plays and even a Gothic historical
novel titled Hans of
Iceland the name of today's book in the
spotlight is the last day of a condemned

man Victor Hugo's classic early French

novel as a powerful
indictment of the death
penalty and a plea to end capital
punishment completely in
France the first campaign towards the
evolution of the death penalty began in

1791 it was abolished in

1795 but reinstated in

1810 public executions in France

continued until

1939 by age
27 the young Victor
Hugo in 1829
had witnessed the spectacle of the
guillotine on several
occasions and was angered at the
spectacle that Society made of
it it was the day after crossing the

pl which is located was located in front

of the hotel de the city hall Square on
the right bank right on the River where
an executioner was ining the GU in
anticipation of a scheduled execution
that Hugo immediately began writing the
last day of a condemned
man he finished it very
quickly the last day of a condemned
man is a profound and moving tale and an

important social comment from one of

France's greatest writers Victor Hugo a
most fervent
campaigner against the death penalty in
France but before exploring more of the
story told let's consider some more
facts about the
author like all of the great authors in
the course of man's Journey on the
planet Earth Miss Victor Hugo needs
little in
uction a leading figure of the Romantic
Movement in France he was a novelist a
dramatist and a poet with an
unflinchingly sensitive Soul For

Humanity he was also heavily involved in

the political scene of the day a concern
that is clearly reflected in his writing
like many young writers of his
generation Hugo was profoundly
influenced by French writer politician
Diplomat and historian franois Rene by

Dhat
Bon the famous figure in the literary
movement of Romanticism and France's
preeminent literary figure during the
early 19th century
in his youth Hugo resolved to be quote
ChatOn or
nothing and his life would come to
parallel that of his predecessor in many
ways like
chat Hugo further the cause of

Romanticism became involved in politics

though mostly as a champion of
republicanism
emphasizing the idea of
self-governance and was forced into
Exile due to his political
stances along with shaton he attended
the coronation of Charles I 10th in re
in
1825 at age
23 the
precocious passion and eloquence of
Hugo's early work brought success and
fame at a very early
age his first collection of poetry ODS a
poy divers was published in 1822 when he
was only 20 years old and earned him a
royal
pension from Louis the
18 though the poems were admired for
their spontaneous fervor and flu uency
The Collection that followed four years
later in
1826 ODS a
balad revealed Hugo to be a great poet a
natural master of lyric and creative
song in line with today's
exploration Victor Hugo's first major
work of
fiction the last day of a condemned man
was first published in February
29 without the author's name and
reflected the acute social conscience
that would Infuse his later
works L
junun condam the last day of The
Condemned man would have a profound
influence on later writers from various
International sensibilities such as the
the French Albert kamu the English
Charles Dickens and as noted earlier the
Russian fodra
dooi Hugo himself later considered it to
be a precursor to his great work on
social justice Le
Miser many of his Works have also
inspired
music both during his Lifetime and after
his death including the Opera
roletto and the musical of course Le
Miser and not
de unknown to most followers of his
career is the fact that as an
artist Victor Hugo produced more than
4,000 drawings in his
lifetime of of course though it was his
literary stature that established him as
a national
hero Victor Marie Hugo died on 22 May

1885 at age
83 he was honored with a state
funeral in the pantheon of Paris an
event attended by over two million
people the largest in French

history to the
book The Last Day of The Condemned
man I can only imagine a young
intelligent and articulate as well as
observant man swept up in the art and
intellectual movement of Romanticism at
its epicenter in the City of Lights in
the early 19th centur
country such a young man so
overwhelmed by what he saw as social
injustice as to pause in his early
success to write a firstperson
monologue of a Man convicted to die by
guillet in
1829 thus is the young writer destined
to become one of Europe's greatest
authors then on the doorstep of
Fame Romanticism placed the highest
importance on the freedom of artists to
authentically express their sentiments
and
ideas Victor Hugo did just that without
hesitancy for many years until his
Exile and the tale he
unfolds simple and yet over
overwhelmingly complex in the
mind in forward notes from British
journalist and author quote to wake
every morning knowing that this day
might be your
last is to live with a mental anguish
the release of which can only come in
your inevitable
execution such is the life of a French
prisoner a man vilified by society and

condemned to death for his

crime a crime we never learn the facts
of nor even the name of the man to be
punished his guilt is
undeniable but his mental
turmoil as he waits in his cell for that
final call brings new and desperate
levels to his
suffering with the hope for release his
only comfort he spends his hours
recounting his life and moments leading
up to his final
days but as the hours go by of course he
knows that he is powerless to change his
inevitable fate and must follow the path
so many have trod before him the path
that leads
to the
guillotin the last day of The Condemned
man was first published as I said in
February
1829 but without the author's
name cautious
reluctance more to be
told a stronger case to be crafted

three years later on 15 March

1832 Yugo completed his story adding a

long 21 page
preface and his

signature in my humble
opinion
admittedly I did not expect my search
for Victor Hugo's first mature work of
fiction to result in a book with such a
title and granted it may well not be the
book one might select in a great books
search however the last day of a
condemned man is indeed only a brief
twoyear step from one of Victor Hugo's
most famous novels The Hunchback of do

it seems to me that Hugo's writing of

the
book was
crucial in the moment for him and indeed
a compulsive and very concentrated
effort needless to say the book is
exceptionally
thought-provoking begging the question
how might I have lived that last day

how might I live my last day were there

no
exit following the mental path of the
unnamed
man let alone the physical path is an
unsettling journey and yet recalling the
Hunchback of notredam and more
significantly
miserab one recognizes very clearly
Echoes from this first of Hugo's early
mature writing in both of his mature and

highly respected later

novels I'm very glad that I read the
last day of a condemned man leaving me
with a deeper and clearer understanding
of this great French novelist Victor
Hugo final words from the man himself
quote nothing can be sadder or more
profound than to see a thousand things
for the
first and the last

time I've decided to jump around a

little bit today in the novel even
though it is only 66
pages I want to progress of obviously
from the very beginning of the story to
the very end um and uh tried to catch
the thoughts of this unnamed man in his
prison
cell so the very first page uh is titled

theet which is the name of the first

prison that he's in and the first line
of that paragraph is simply three words
with an exclamation point
condemned to
death for five weeks now I have lived
with this thought forever alone and
petrified in its presence forever bent
beneath the burden of it once upon a
time but now it seems like years ago
rather than weeks I was a man like any
other I had as many thoughts as there
were days hours and
minutes my brain was fresh f full of
delightful fancies and took pleasure in
running them by me in random unceasing
succession embroidering with infinite
tapestries the rough and flimsy stuff of
Life there were young women and Splendid
Bishop's robes battles won theaters
brimming with noise and light and more
young women with whom I walked at night
under the spreading branches of the
chest that
trees my imagination ran Riot my
thoughts knew no bounds I was

fre now I am a
captive my body is fettered in a Cell my
brain imprisoned in a fixed idea and
Dreadful bloody and merciless it
is I now have but one thought a lone
conviction and a single certainty
that I am condemned to
death try as I will this hellish thought
will not leave me like a leaden ghost at
my elbow that imperiously banishes all
other
preoccupations reflects my wretchedness
back to me and shakes me in its icy
grasp when I wish to turn my head away
or close my
eyes it assumes all the guises in which
my mind seeks
Refuge mingles in Grim chorus with all
the words spoken to me stands by me as I
press against the hateful bars of my
cell nags me during my waking hours
watches over my fitful sleep and recurs
in my dreams in the shape of a
knife I've just been jolted awake
pursued by this thought but telling
myself it was only a
dream if only it
were but long before my heavy Lids have
opened wide enough to see this fatal
Obsession writ large on the Grim reality
of my surroundings which are the damp
clammy flags of myself the dim beam of
my NightLight the coarse weave of my
garments the brooding face of the sentry
with his ammunition pouched duy glinting
through the
bars all already it seems that a voice
has whispered in my
ear condemned to
death it was one fine morning in August
three days before my trial had
begun but three days now my name and my
crime had alerted a flock of Spectators
who swooped down on the benches of the
Court like prows citing a
corpse and for three days The Surreal
page of Judges Witnesses defense and
prosecution had ebbed and flowed before
me now grotesque now bloody but always
dark and
threatening on the very two nights of
anxiety and panic a stopped me from
sleeping a week but by the third I had
succumbed to tedium and
tiredness at midnight while the jury was
still deliberating I had been brought
back to the straw of my cell and fell at
once fast asleep into the sleep of
forgetfulness my first hours of repose
for a good many
days at the deepest point of my deep
Slumber they came and woke me
again this time neither the heavy tread
of the W's hob nailed Boots the jingling
of his bunch of keys nor the harsh
Screech of the bolts being drawn back
could Rouse me from my torper before his
rough hand was on my arm and his rough
voice barking in my ear on your
feet I opened my eyes and sat up in
Terror at that moment through the narrow
window set high on my cell wall I saw on
the ceiling of the corridor that ran
outside which was the nearest I got to
seeing the sky the yellow glow that eyes
accustomed to prison Darkness know
unfailingly
to be the
son love the
son fine day I said to the
Jailer he was silent for a moment as
though not certain that this warranted a
reply then forced himself roughly to
mumble I suppose so I made no movement
my mind still half asleep with a smile
on my lips as I gazed on the gentle
golden reflection that dappled the
ceiling What a fine day I
repeated yes said the man but they are
waiting for
you these few words like the cobweb that
arrests an insect in full flight dumped
me unceremoniously into the real world
in a sudden flash of recognition I saw
the dingy courtroom the sickle shaped
judge's bench draped in bloody Rags the
three rows of Bine
Witnesses the two jeams sitting at
either side of my bench the black gowns
tossing the heads of the crowd dancing
in the dim light of the back and
swiveling to fix itself upon me the
Relentless gaze of those 12 jurors who
had sat up while I
slept I got up my teeth were chattering
my trembling hands droped van vainly for
my clothes and my legs felt weak I took
one step and stumbled like a porter bent
double beneath his burden
nevertheless I followed the
Jailer the two jeam were waiting for me
at the door of the cell they put the
handcuffs on me there was an intricate
little lock and they did it up with
care I offered no
resistance what was one call in a bigger

mechanism we crossed an inner Courtyard

the chill morning air revived me I
raised my head the sky was blue in the
warm rays of the sun bisected by the
tall chimneys cut out Jagged swaths of
light high on the Dismal walls of the
prison it was indeed a fine day we
climbed a spiral staircase and went down
a corridor second and then that third a
low door opened and a hot and noisy
blast of air struck me in the face it
was the breath of the crowd gathered in
the courtroom which I
entered as I came into view there was a
rustle of arms and voices the noise of
seats being moved in partitions creaking
while I walked the whole length of the
room between two crowds of Spectators
held back by soldiers I felt like the
nodle point in which were connected the
nerves that operated all those vacant
faces and craning
necks just then I noticed I had no leg
irons on but had no idea when or where
they had been
removed deep
silence then
fell I had reached my
place as the crowd's den subsided so too
did the din in my head suddenly I
grasped with Clarity what had hitherto
been only dimly
apprehended the Moment of Truth had come
and I was there to be
sentenced strangely enough this idea
came to me in a way that inspired no
fear the windows were open with an air
and noise flooding freely in from the
city streets the courtroom was gay lit
as if for a wedding the sun's bright r
cast random patterns from the Leed
pains here obligated on the floor there
spread across the tables now bent where
two walls met and each shining pane
projected a hazy gold in prison that
hovered in the
air at the far end of the room the
judges looked satisfied no doubt
relieved that it would soon be over the
president's face lit gently by The Gleam
from a window pane look calmed and
kindly and a young Barrister was toying
with his shabo as he chatted almost
jovially with a pretty lady in a pink
hat who occupied a privileged position
behind him only the jurors seemed pale
and drawn but were clearly weary from
having been up all night some were ya
yawning then what there was no
indication from their expressions that
they just deliv a verdict of death and I
discern no more in the faces of these
good men and true than a desperate
longing for
Sleep opposite me a window had been
thrown wide open I could hear flower
girls laughing on the river
embankment and on the stone window still
a pretty little yellow flower was
growing in a crack bathed in sunshine
and rocking in the breeze
how could gloomy for boings have Arisen
amid such Sweet
Sensations drenched in air and sunshine
I could think of nothing but
Freedom hope beat in my breast as the
sun beep out and I serenely awaited my
sentence as one who counts on release
and
life Meanwhile my counsel arrived he had
been delayed by a hearty breakfast eaten
with good appetite as he reached his
seat leaned smilingly over to him there
is still hope he
said I am sure there is I replied
relaxed and smiling
myself most definitely he would
on we don't yet know how they have found
but since they could hardly believe you
guilty of premedication it will be hard
a labor for
Life what are you saying sir I replied
indignantly death is infinitely to be

preferred yes
death and anyway some inner voice
prompted me I can say so without
tempting faith when have death sentences
ever been pronounced except at midnight
by flickering torch light in a dingy
black boardroom on a cold and rainy
Winter's night but in August at 8 in the
morning on such a fine day and with such
decent jurors it would be
Unthinkable and my eyes moved back to
the pretty yellow flower in the
sunlight just then the president of the
Court who had only been waiting for my
counsel to appear bid me stand up the
guard shouldered arms and at once all
the onlook onlookers were on their feet
an unprepossessing individual seated at
a table beneath the judges deis who must
have been the clerk of court stood to
address the assembly and read out the
verdict that the jury had pronounced in
my
absence my limbs were suddenly drenched
in a cold sweat and I leaned against the
wall so as not to
collapse Council for the defense have
you anything to say in mitigation of the
sentence asked the presiding
judge it was for me to have believe and
plenty to say
but nothing occurred to me my tongue
stayed glued to the roof of my
mouth my defense councel stood up I saw
that he was trying to soften the jury's
verdict into substitute for the sentence
that it carried the Lesser one that I
had been so outraged to find him
anticipated my indignation must have
been strong indeed to have surfaced amid
this multitude of emot tions conflicting
in me I tried to shout out loud what I
had already told him death is infinitely
to be
preferred but words failed me and I
could do no more than grab him roughly
by the arm crying desperately
no the king's attorney refuted my
counsel and I listened to him in Dumb
satisfaction then the judges retired
returned and the president read up my

sentence condemned to death how the

crowd and as I was being led away the
entire room rushed after me with the
Roar of a building collapsing while I
walked on as if drunk and drugged I had
suffered a sea
change before hearing my death sentence
I was aware that my lungs breathed that
my heart beat that my body lived in the
community of other men now I plainly saw
that a barrier had sprung up between
them and Me Nothing Was the Same as
before the windows briming with light
the beautiful sun the Clear Blue Sky the
pretty flower all of these had turned
deathly pale the color of a
shroud these men women and children who
crowded behind me all looked like
ghosts at the foot of the stairs a dirty
black vehicle had barred windows and
awaited me as I was climbing in I gazed
idly around the square he's condemned to
death shouted the bystanders as they ran
towards the carriage through the midst
which seemed to have settled between the
outside world and me I made out two
young women who were gazing in wrapped
attention it'll be six weeks from now
said the younger clapping her hands

just drawn up my will what

for I was found guilty with costs and
all that I have will scarcely be enough
the guillotine is very
expensive I have behind me a mother a
wife and a
child a little girl of three gentle Rosy
cheek and delicate with big black eyes
and long brown
hair she was two years and a month old
when I last saw her so my death will
leave three women one with no son one
with no
husband and one with no
father in different respects they are
each of them
orphans three widows by law

I accept that I am justly punished but

what have these innocent creatures done
no
matter they will be Dishonored and
ruined such as
Justice I do not fear for my poor old
mother she is 64 and it will kill her
perhaps she may last for a few days
longer uncomplaining as long as she has
given a few hot ashes for her foot
warmer
I do not fear for my wife either she's
already in poor health and weak in
mind she too will
die unless she goes mad well Madness is
said to prolong
life at least though the Mind does not
suffer being
asleep and is
dead but the thought of my daughter my
child my poor little Marie who even now
is laughing playing and singing in
Blissful ignorance is torture to

me this is what my cell is

like 8T by 8 Four Walls of stone blocks

set at right angles to a flagged floor

that is one step higher than the outer
Corridor to the right of the door as you
enter is a shallow Nook an apology for
an
Alco a straws thrown down there and the
Prisoner must manage to rest and sleep
on it dressed summer and winter alike in
Sil cloth trousers and a twill
jacket above my head in what I call Sky
is a dark ceiling in the style that they
call a Gothic
Vault from which thick spider webs hang
down like tattered
ribbons what else oh no windows not even
a skylight a door of wood clad in
Iron well not
altogether in the middle of an upper
half of the door is an opening 9 in
square bisected by crossed bars which
the jaila can close at
night outside runs quite a long Corridor
lit ventilated by narrow Skylight set
high on the wall and divided into brick
work compartments that communicate with
one another through through a series of
low arched doors each of these
compartments is what you might call the
anti room to a cell such as mine these
cells contain convicts who have been
moved there by the prison governor for
disciplinary reasons the first three are
reserved for prisoners condemned to
death because they are nearer to the
lodge and hence more convenient for the
head
water these cells are all the remains of
the former chatau to
said as it was built in the 15th century
by the Cardinal of
Winchester the one who burned
Jonah I heard this story told to by some
sightseers who were led into the anti
room to see me yesterday and stared at
me from a safe distance as if I were
some circus animal I saw the water being
given a five Frank
note though
what a hateful place a prison is it's
poison corrupts
everything nothing survives its
withering blast not even the song of a
girl of 15 outside the window there you
may find a bird there but it has mud on
its wing and if you pick a Pity flower
to breathe its fragrance why it
stinks oh if I had escaped I would run
through the fields
no sense of running though that draws
attention to you in awake suspicion walk
slowly instead with head held high and
sing try to get hold of an old blue smok
embroidered in red it's a good
disguise the gardeners around here all
wear
them near a I know where there is a
clump of trees by marshy ground I used
to go there every Thursday with my
school friends to catch frogs I could
hide it in until
evening after Nightfall I would continue
my journey I would go to vinen no no no
no no I couldn't cross the river I would
go to
Apon but I would have done better to go
off in the S gerain Direction head for
leav and from there catch a boat to
England well
anyway I got a far as long
J then as joh goes by and ask to see my

passport the game is

up you Fawn dreamer Begin by demolishing
the stone wall three feet thick that
imprisons you oh
death
death and to think that I used to come
to batra as a child so that I could look
down the great wall and see the madness
and the Mad

Men at this very moment in all the

houses built around the pet and
Lev where the guillotine is located and
throughout Paris men are coming and
going quite freely talking and laughing
reading the paper and thinking about
business shopkeepers are selling young
women are getting their ball gowns ready
for this evening and mothers are playing
with their
children I remember that one day as a
boy I went to see the great Bell of
nraam I was already giddy from climbing
the dark spiral staircase and crossing
the narrow walkway between the two
towers over Paris stretched beneath my
feet when I enter the cage of stone and
wood there hung the half ton Bell and
its Clapper I tiptoe gingerly over the
uneven boards gazing From a Distance on
the Bell so revered by the children and
people of Paris not a little afraid to
find that the sloping slate awnings
which surround the bell tower run down
from the level of my feet through the
gaps I had almost a bird's eye view of
the Cathedral Square with passers by the
size of
ants suddenly the giant bell rang and a
deep surging vibration ran through the
air and made the massive Tower shake the
floor banged up and down on the joist
the noise almost kned me backwards I
staggered nearly falling and sliding
down the sloping slates Panic stripping
I lay on the floorboards clinging
tightly on with both arms Speers and
breathless from the awesome dinning into
my ears while my eyes look down over a
precipice to the square so far below
where people I envied went peacefully
by well then I seem still to be in the
bell
tower I am dazed and bedazzled all at
once a great Bell
Tolls through the recesses of my brain
and I look around and see that calm and
peace peaceful light I've left it behind
in which other men may still walk free
from afar across a yawning
void the hotel de is a forbidding
building with its steeply sloping roof
its Roco Pinnacles its big white clock
face its column motifs on each floor its
thousand Windows its steps worn down by
Footprints and its two arches to the
right and to the left it stands there on
a dead level with
L dark
gloomy its face Pock marked with age and
so black that it reflects sunlight
back on execution
days it discourages Jam from every door
and watches The Condemned man from its
every window
and in the evening its clock face which
told the Fatal hour glows luminous on
its Grim
facade it's a quarter
1 these are my Sensations at
present a splitting
headache my back is cold and my forehead
burning each time I get up or lean over
it seems as there is a liquid floating
around in my head that Dash es my brain
against the walls of the
skull I shake convulsively and now and
then the pen Falls from my fingers as it
jolted by a galvanic
shock my eyes burn as though I were
surrounded by smoke my elbows are
tender two hours and 45 minutes to

go and I shall be
cured they say this nothing to
it that you don't feel pain that it's a
a merciful
release and that in this way death is
Made
Easy is that
so then what about this six week death
Agony and this daylong death
rattle what about the mental torment
endured through this fateful day that
passes so slowly and so
fast and what about the rising scale of
tortures ending with the
scaffold this is not
suffering
apparently where the blood drops run
drop by drop or the intellect dies
thought by thought are they not the same
final
spasms anyway how can they be sure that
it's
painless who told them
that since when did a decapitated head
stand up up on the rim of the basket and
Shout to the
people I didn't feel a
thing and did any of their victims ever
come back to thank them saying it's a
fine invention couldn't be bettered it
works to
Perfection did robas speier ever did
Louis the
16 no
nothing less than a minute less than a
second and the deed is done
have they ever placed themselves ever
mentally in the positions of one lying
there at the instant when the heavy
falling blade bites into the flesh
sections the nerves and breaks the
bones come now half a second is all it
takes and pain must be
minimal how
appalling it is strange but I never
stopped thinking about the king
however much I shake my head and try to
ignore it it voice in my ear keeps
saying in this very City at this very
hour and not very far from here there
lives in another Palace a man who also
has Gods on every door a man set aside
like you from the common herd the only
difference being that he is as high
above as you are
beneath every minute of his life is
diverted to The Pursuit Of Glory
greatness pleasure and Rapture around
him all is love respect
veneration the loudest voices are
lowered when speaking to him and the
proudest Wills must
Bend he has nothing meaner than silk and
gold before his
eyes at this very minute he will be
conducting a council of ministers in
which everybody AG agrees with him or
maybe he's think of tomorrow's hunting
or this evening's ball certain the
festivities will begin on time with
others preparing his enjoyment for
him
well this man is made of Flesh in blood
like you and for the horrible scaffold
to collapse in a heap for you to be
given back life liberty fortune and
family he would only have to take this
pen and write the seven letters of his
name at the bottom of a piece of paper
or the paths of his carriage or your
cart would only have to cross and he is
good and might well wish for nothing
better yeah it will never
happen the room in the hotel to
V from the hotel to V yes here I am at
last in front of the plaster
graev and the
guillotine the Dreadful journey is
over the square is down below and
beneath by Windows the ghoulish
Spectators stand and wait yelping and
cackling try as I would to steal feel
intense by the senu I felt my heart sink
when I saw above the heads those two red
posts TP by the black triangle standing
between the two lamps on the embankment
I must
say that my heart
sank I asked to make a last statement I
was brought up here and they have gone
off to fetch some
attorney I'm waiting for him and have
won some breathing
space now where was
I the Clock Struck 3 and they came to
tell me that it was time I shuddered
almost as though my mind had been on
other things for the last six hours six
weeks six months where it did seem
unexpected they led me along their
corridors and down their stairs they
made me wait between two of the gate
houses in a dark narrow and vaulted room
into which the Rainy foggy daylight
hardly
penetrated there was a chair in the
middle I was told to sit
down and i
s a few people were standing by the door
and along the walls as were the priest
the
je and then three other
men the first the tallest and most
senior was Stout and red-faced he was
wearing a front coat and a battered Tri
corn hat he was the
man it was the
Executioner the guillotine
auxiliary the two others were servants
to
him hardly had I sat down and the other
two crept catlike up on me from behind
and I suddenly felt the kiss of coal
Steel on my hair and the squeaking of
scissors in my
ears locks of my roughly cropped hair
fell onto my shoulders and the Man in
the tricorn hat brushed them gently off
with his big
hand the people standing around were
speaking in an
undertone there was a great noise
outside like a rustling vibration in the
air first of all I thought it was the
river but when laughter broke out I
realized it was the
crowd a young man sitting by the window
who was writing in pencil and a pocket
book asked one of the jail
what this operation was
called the tolet of The Condemned the
other
replied I gathered that it would be in
tomorrow's
newspaper suddenly one of the assistants
stripped off my jacket and the other
took hold of my hands which were hanging
by my sides pulled them behind my back
and I felt a knotted rope wind slowly
round my wrists and draw them
together meanwhile the other was undoing
my neckerchief my cambrick shirt the
only remnant of the man I used to be
gave him a moment's hesitation but then
he began to cut off the
cola as the grizzly precaution was being
taken and the chill steel brushed
against my neck my elbows jerked and I
let out a muffled howl the executionist
hand trembled I'm sorry sir he said did
I hurt you these executioners are most
gentlemen
outside the crowd was bellowing louder
than
ever the Stout man with the pimply face
offered me a handkerchief soaked in
vinegar to smell thank you I said to him
as loudly as I could there's no need I
feel all right then one of them bent down and
tied my feet together with a thin rope
left loose enough for me to take small
steps this rope was then joined to the
one binding my
hands then the Stout man threw the
jacket over my back and knotted the
sleeves together under my chin this part
of the business was
complete the priest then came up bearing
his
crucifix come my son he said to me the
assistance Lifted Me by the
armpits I stood up and walked my steps
were wobbly and staggering as though I
had two knees on each
leg just then the outer door was flung
wide open a frantic D cold air and white
light came fluttering towards me through
the
darkness from the back of the dark Gate
House I took it at a glance the whole of
the rain soak seene the heads of the
Thousand shrieking Spectators crammed
one on top of the other on the stairway
leading to the pet to my right at street
level a row of police horses only the
front Hooves and chests of which could
be seen through the L entrance
Door opposite a Detachment of soldiers
drawn up in battle order to the left the
back of a cart with a step ladder
leaning against it at a steep
angle a chilling sight and fittingly
framed by a prison
gate it was for this dreaded moment that
I had summed up my
courage I took three steps forward and
appeared on the threshold of the gate
house there is is there he is H the
crowd he's coming now now for it and
those nearest to me clapped their
hands however beloved he may be a king
would Inspire less
rejoicing it was an ordinary cart drawn
by a bony horse and the driver was
wearing a blue spark embroidered in red
like the Gardeners of the beset by
area the Stout man in the tricorn hat
got on first
good day to you Miss Samson cried
children who were hanging from the
railings an assistant followed him three
cheers for Mari the children cried once
more they both sat down on the front
seat it was my turn I managed to climb
up quite
steadily he's got guts said a woman
standing beside the
jeam this gruesome compliment gave me
Courage the priest took in his place
beside me i' had been sat down on the
back seat facing away from the horse I
shuddered at this supreme Act of
delicacy how Humane their behavior
is I tried to look around me Jean D in
front of me Jean D behind and crowds
crowds more crowds and a sea of heads on
the
pl a squad of Mounted Police were
waiting for me at the gate by the
entrance to the pet the officer gave an
order the cart and its escort began to
move as it propelled forward by the
chanting
rabble we went out through the gate as
the cart turned towards the poor oange
Bridge the square shook with noise from
the ground up to the routers and bridges
and Banks joined in until the Earth
shuttered there the mounted escort
joined up with those on foot at off hat
off a thousand mes cried in unison as
though I were the
king then I too laughed horribly saying
to the priest their hats their hats by

Head we went at walking pace the key of

Flur smelled fragrant for its Market Day
by the sin the flower girls stopped
making their bouquets to come and see me
opposite a little way along from the the
square tower that stands on the corner
of the pet there are ale houses whose
balconies were packed with the people
looking on delighted to have such a good
view mostly women landlords are going to
do good business
today tables chairs scaffolding and
wagons were all being hired out every
vantage point was mobbed by Spectators
dealers in human blood were balling take
your places
I was filling with anger by this mob and
tempted to call out to them come and
take
mine meanwhile the cart was moving on at
each step it rolled forward I absently
noted that the crowd behind dispersed
and went off to gather somewhere else
along the my
route as we turned onto the pontal
charge I happened to glance backwards to
my right my gaze fell on the opposite
Bank where the houses and came to rest
on a Black Tower standing on its own
bristling with sculped figures and toau
by two Stone monsters set sideways on

for some reason I asked the priest what

this Tower was
called s ja
laar the Executioner
replied how it happened I do not know
but in spite of the Mist and the and the
fine white drizzle which danced through
the air like a spider's web nothing
escaped me of what was happening around
them each of these details was a torture
in
itself words can but poorly describe

feelings near the middle of the Ponto on

which such a huge crowd had gathered
that we could only inch our way forward
I was gripped by sudden panic yet by my
last catry involved not showing weakness
so I drowned out everything blind and
deaf to all but the priest whose words I
could hardly make out against the
background
hubub I took the crucifix and kissed it
oh my God I
said have pity on
me and I tried to lose myself in this
thought but each jolt of the bumping
cart shook me out of it then suddenly I
Bel chilt to the marrow the rain had
soaked through my clothes and the skin
on my head felt wet through my closely
propped
hair is it the coal that's making you
shiver my son the priest asked me yes I

replied Al
last not just the
cold as we turned off the bridge I heard
some women beem mooning the fact that I
was so young
we started along the Fatal
embankment I was beginning no longer to
see or to
hear there were all these voices all
these heads at the windows and doorways
perched on Shar fronts and lamp posts
all these cruel and bloodthirsty
Spectators this crowd all of whom know
me though I know none of them this road
cobbled and walled with human faces I
was drunk unfeeling senseless the way of
so many glances falling on you is quite
intolerable I swayed from side to side
on the seat no longer even paying
attention to the priest and his
crucifix in the clamor round about me I
no longer knew shouts of pity from
shouts of joy laughter from
commiseration voices from noises it was
was all a d that boomed in my head with
a dull metallic
resonance my eyes mechanically scanned
the shop
signs just once I was seized by The
Morbid curiosity to turn my head and see
what I was moving toward my intellect's
last Act of
bravado but my body would not obey and
my neck remained paralyzed as if dead
already I had only a side view over the
river on my left of the Tower of notam
which seen from this point hides the
other the one with the flag pole there
were lots of people up there who would
be getting a great
View and the cart rolled on and on and
the shop slowly went by and the red
written painted and gilded signs
scrolled past and the Robble laughed and
stamped in the mud and I let myself slip
like a SLE Leeper in his
dreams
suddenly the row of shops passing before
my eyes gave out on the corner of a
square the crowds spraying grew deeper
and more excited the cart jerked to a
halt and I nearly lurched forward onto
the floor the priest held me up bear it
bravely he
murmured then they brought a step ladder
up to the back of the cart he gave me
his arm and helped help me down I took
one step turned as I took another and
froze between two lamps on the
embankment I had seen a nightmare
object but no I was not
dreaming I stopped as if staggering
already from the
blow I have one last statement to make I
cried
weakly I was brought up here I asked to
be allowed to write my will they untied
my hands but the Rope is ready to go
back on and the other part is waiting
down
below a judge Police Superintendent or
magistrate of some sort just came in I
begged him on my pardon joining my hands
together and crawling on my knees he
replied with a chilling smile that if I
had no more than this to say to him I
pardon my pardon I kept saying or at
least have mercy and Grant me five more
minutes for Perhaps it is on its way why
not it is so terrible to die like this
at my age last minute pardons are not
unknown and who sir is more worthy of
Pardon than
I a curse on the
Executioner he went up to the judge and
told him that it had to be done at a
fixed time which was very near that the
responsibility was kiss and that he was
worried about the rain rusting his
apparatus for pity's sake allow just one
more minute for my pardon to arrive I
shall go Kicking and Screaming I'll
bite the judge and the Executioner
left I am
alone if you call being between two jeon

alone why did the bloodthirsty C all

shriek like
hyenas but maybe I shall Escape their
Vengeance but if I am saved if my pardon
were for surely I shall be
pardoned the sniveling
lackes here they come back up the

stairs 4:00

that is actually the end of the book I

don't really read the end of the
book thought it seemed important to make
the point I was trying to make that
there are echoes certainly joh
valon from
leer certainly you can see those at the
very beginning of that Stage production
or
film it's a very uh very interesting
book to be the first mature work of

Victor Hugo and he was certainly

certainly certainly making his point but
it took many many many years long after
his death before
executions in that square was

stopped anyway thank you very much for

listening with me today as I read
sections of the book I wish I could have
read it all to you uh because there of
course many many thoughts that go
through one's mind as one can imagine as
one can imagine of
course uh but anyway the first mature uh
book of recognition um if you simply
look up on Google Books of Victor Hugo
you will see it even if you've never
heard of it you will definitely see it
the last day of a condemned
man and the forward was by liby perves I
didn't mention her name earlier felt bad
about that but the introduction I
let me take a few brief moments uh
before I depart to tell you of next
week's book um that we've had a request
for uh another travel book although the
travel books that I've done before have
a little more meat than just turn left
turn right and by the lamp post find the
best restaurant in town the name of this
book written in
1977 is a time of
gifts a time of gifts on foot to

Constantinople from the hook of Holland

to the middle
danu it is written by a chap named
Patrick Lea
furore f e r m o r it won the 1978 wh
Smith literary award it's an account
about an Intrepid young Englishman on
the first leg of his walk from London to

Constantinople is simply one of the best

works of travel literature ever written
quote un quote I'm
reading at the age of 18 Patrick Lee
fermer the author set off from the heart
of
London on an epic journey to walk to
Constantinople I wonder how he got to
London from Holland doesn't one Wonder a
time of gifts is the rich account of his
adventures as far as
hungering after which between the woods
and the
water a second book continues the story
to the iron gates that divide the
Carpathian and Vulcan
mountains a claim for its sweep and
intelligence Lee fermer book explores a
remarkable moment in
time at Once A Memoir of coming of age
an account of a journey and a dazzling
exposition of the English
language a time of gifts is also a
portrait of a continent already showing
ominous signs of the Holocaust to
come now if you caught the years there
second together I do want to point out
it was published in 1977 but obviously
the journey was before the
war um to just make that clear a
Scottish historian photographer and
critic William Dal rimple called it a
Sublime
Masterpiece and the book has been held
by writer Daniel Bey as the classic of
travel
writing so um I think it should be quite
interesting I'm looking forward to its
arrival from the library I don't have it
yet but U I think it'll be an
interesting switch and a top off the
rest of the uh month before we move into
May uh and announce our collection next
week for the month of
May thank you very much for watching
today if you enjoyed any part of the
story uh or any bits about Mr Hugo or
any historical things that we might find
interesting to share with others please
do uh give us first of all the thumbs up
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both small medium and large all
three uh VI for the uh the award
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hope thank you again very much for
tuning in today I think hope you'll
return for another one of our programs
we have on our website as you may or may
not have noticed before about 167
programs that we've done over the last
three plus years so you may find other
books that you might enjoy seeing our
program take care of yourself as we
finally move our way into spring
uh alas for yor it is
Springtime take care of yourself as a
good time for germs to be flying around
and the season change so do be careful
and if you have it in you please give a
little positive Karma into the world
we've got a lot of negativity going on
the world right now gosh it's only in
America uh but Wars Wars wars why so

many uh so please put a little positive

vibe into into the soup so to speak a
few hell and a few good words produce
department at
hadam thank you again for being with us
today I appreciate it and take care of
yourself goodbye