The Economy of Love

Mercy and justice in Les Miserables

“Whom man kills God restores to life; whom the brothers pursue the Father redeems.”

The first time I saw Les Miserables was in theater. I was a senior in high school and had only a vague awareness of the plot (something about France and the plight of the poor?). Essentially, I knew it was going to be good and that I should see it. My mom and I made a special “date day” out of it, the first time I had gone to a movie alone with her since I could remember. We found our seats, quietly opened our homemade bags of popcorn (conveniently smuggled in with the help of oversized purses), and settled in for the show.

When the end credits rolled, there wasn’t a dry eye between us. In fact, I don’t think there was a dry eye in the entire theater. Everyone was aware that they had just witnessed a masterpiece, not only of cinematic talent but also with regard to the themes of the movie.

Ever since that day, Les Mis has held a special place in my heart. I continue to marvel at the music and I love the story. But it wasn’t until recently that I encountered the film on a whole new level.

I knew when I first saw the movie and after when I saw the play, that one of its major themes was the tension between mercy and justice, embodied in the characters of Jean Valjean and Javert. But in all of those previous viewings, I never really realized that these themes are meant to hit much closer to home than some far off, inspirational plot line. This time around, I was startled by how personal and radically challenging the themes of this story are.

In the beginning of the movie, Jean Valjean, a convict who is sentenced to life-long parole, is granted freedom and forgiveness by the Bishop whose silver he has robbed. This moment marks a change for Jean Valjean. After having spent 19 years in the galleys for stealing a loaf of bread when his sister’s children were starving, Jean Valjean has come to hate the world, its inhabitants, and its Creator. In the book, Victor Hugo explains that Jean Valjean reflected on the world, on society, and all its ways, and came to the conclusion that he had been grossly and wrongly treated. He tried the world and found it guilty. He then tried its Creator and condemned him too. He condemned them both to his hate.

Thus, his encounter with the Bishop’s mercy is entirely undeserved. Perhaps this is why it so moving. It stops Jean Valjean in his tracks and causes him to rethink his entire approach to the injustices that have been committed against him (“The convict had been dazzled by virtue”). For the first time, Jean Valjean is able to perceive that although he has been truly wronged, his hatred has made him wretched. The Bishop, however, makes a deal with Jean Valjean. There is one condition for his going free, recounted in the beautiful lines sung by the Bishop in this scene.

“But remember this, my brother

See in this some higher plan

You must use this precious silver

To become an honest man

By the witness of the martyrs

By the passion and the blood

God has raised you out of darkness

I have saved your soul for God.”

The rest of the movie follows Jean Valjean as he tries to make good on his promise to the Bishop and to God, to live as an honest man. More specifically, he tries to live according to the law by which he himself has been freed, the law of love and mercy, all the while being relentlessly pursued by his adversary, Inspector Javert.

This conflict moves the plot forward while simultaneously revealing a contrast between the two types of law that are at play throughout the entire movie: the law of love and the law of human justice.

The climax of the movie comes when, through a series of events, Jean Valjean finds himself standing before Javert with the power to do away with him once and for all. For once the tables are turned. In one swift moment Jean Valjean could be free of this man’s unjust hatred and his prejudiced pursuit. Inspector Javert encourages Jean Valjean to shoot him, elucidating clearly the logic of the situation. Javert speaks according to the law of human justice.

What you want you always steal!

You would trade your life for mine

Yes, Valjean, you want a deal!

Shoot me now, for all I care

If you let me go, beware

You'll still answer to Javert!

In this moment, Jean Valjean has to decide which law will reign in his life: the law of love, or the law of justice. Will he kill this inspector who has truly done him wrong, who has made his life a living hell, and who will only continue to chase after him if he lets him go free? Or will he choose mercy, a mercy that does not count the sin, does not require that the offense stops before it forgives, but rather looks in the face of hatred and offers itself with no conditions? He looks at Javert and says,

You are wrong, and always have been wrong. I'm a man no worse than any man. You are free and there are no conditions. no bargains or petitions. There's nothing that I blame you for. You've done your duty, nothing more.

Jean Valjean chooses the law of mercy, the law of the Love which loved him when he was “but a dog.”¹ Javert, who for his entire life has lived by the law of justice, cannot understand this mercy. He cannot comprehend it nor extend it to anyone, let alone himself. In the subsequent scene, Javert sings what can be recognized as the dark, inverted version of Jean Valjean’s repentance song from the beginning of the movie. This brilliant musical juxtaposition at play in this scene portrays the implication that both men have now been offered the same gift. Valjean has accepted it, but Javert cannot. He will not. He exclaims that he will spit in the face of Valjean’s mercy, that in granting him his life, he has in fact killed him. The song ends in suicide.

It was at this moment, as I watched Les Mis, that I realized the themes of Les Mis are not for Jean Valjean and Javert alone. They are for all of us. They are for me.

The entire movie is set in the midst of the revolutionary conflicts that marked the history of France in the early 19th century. If this time period could be summed up in one word, that word would be “radical.” It was a time of radical oppression in the lives of the poor, radical ignorance on the part of the upper class, radical violence as the tension between political factions boiled and spilled over, and radical tragedy as men and women gave their lives for what they believed in, often crushing the lives of others or being crushed in return.

But Hugo does not talk specifically about that. The radical societal unrest only sets the stage in his story for a far more radical theme. Hugo takes the radicality of politics, oppression, and suffering in France and uses it to point to an even deeper kind of radicality: the radicality of love.

The story of Les Miserables sends the message that although on earth we tend to operate by the law of human justice, using utility, power, and vindication as our currency, there is a higher way. It is not as if justice should never be satisfied. But operating out of justice alone makes for a cold and exacting lifestyle, a lifestyle that only leads to despair. For “If you, LORD, keep account of sins, Lord, who can stand? But with you is forgiveness and so you are revered.” (Psalm 130: 3-4 NRSV)

There is a higher way. The way of love looks beyond the wrongs committed and offers mercy, mercy without conditions. It is this last qualification that makes the mercy of God so radical. It is worth a life-time of reflection and an eternity of practice.

In Les Miserables and in life, mercy is the only balm which can heal a hurting world. And it is only by extending this mercy to others that we ourselves will be forgiven. The way of love elevates the heart, as do all movements of grace, beyond the sphere of mere human justice and introduces it into the realm of the divine economy, one in which the common currency is not justice but love, a love that has more value than we could have ever dreamed possible.

Jean Valjean learns firsthand throughout the movie the blessed truth of Scripture: “To the one who loves much, much will be forgiven.” Or, to put it in the words of Fantine, “To love another person is to see the face of God.”

1. “And this is the marvel of marvels, that he called be Beloved, me who am but a dog.” (C.S. Lewis, The Last Battle, 155).