Victor Hugo in Guernsey Schools and Colleges Workshop, Exams of French

Download Victor Hugo in Guernsey Schools and Colleges Workshop and more Exams French in PDF only on Docsity! 1 Victor Hugo in Guernsey Schools and Colleges Workshop (1802-1885) Poetry, Novels and Plays Materials, Resources and Ideas for Project Work to enhance understanding of Victor Hugo and his importance in Guernsey’s Cultural Heritage 2 Victor Hugo’s Poetry, Novels and Plays Victor Hugo (1802-1885) is considered to be one of the greatest French writers. His literary fame came first from his poetry followed by his novels and plays. Hugo spent 15 years on Guernsey while in exile from France. Throughout his life, Hugo continued to attempt all genres of writing including novels and plays. His writings provide us with an insight into his feelings and thoughts at distinct times in his life. Through internet research, find out to which genre of literature each of these works belongs: Internet Search Poetry Novel Play Le Dernier Jour d’un Condamné Hernani Lucrèce Borgia Ruy Blas Notre Dame de Paris Les Contemplations La Légende des Siècles Les Misérables L’Art d’être Grand-Père 5 Poetry Challenge A. Either: Compare and contrast the two translations or Use a French/English dictionary to attempt your own translation of ‘Extase’ and illustrate it. B. Attempt to write a similar poem in English or French Paint, draw or find pictures/photos to illustrate lines in your poem. 6 ‘Soleils Couchants’ from Victor Hugo’s collection of poems ‘Les Feuilles d’Automne’ There are 6 poems entitled ‘Soleils Couchants’ contained in the 40 poems of ‘Les Feuilles d’Automne' (1831). They take as their principal theme the setting of the sun, a romantic theme in itself but for Hugo deeply symbolic of the passing of time, a key characteristic of romanticism. Hugo’s artistic imagination is evident in these poems as he contemplates the beauty of the natural world. It is a work of transition where the colour and vibrancy of ‘Les Orientales’ is toned down as he meditates on the human condition. Here the poet comes face to face with face with nature meditating on fallen leaves, dead autumn leaves symbolic of the changing seasons of life. Although still full of colour, these poems are less vibrant than the poems in 'Les Orientales'. They are tinged with sadness about the passing of time as he reflects on his younger days with memories of his mother and father. Here is an extract from one of the ‘Soleils Couchants’ poems in French: You might want to look up the full version of the poem. Soleils Couchants J’aime les soirs sereins et beaux, j’aime les soirs Soient qu’ils dorent le front des antiques manoirs Ensevelis dans les feuillages. Soit que la brume au loin s’allonge en bancs de feux A des archipels de nuages Oh, regardez le ciel! cent nuages mouvants Amoncelés là-haut sous le souffle des vents groupent leurs formes inconnues Comme si, tout à coup, quelque géant de l’air Tirait son glaive dans les nues Puis voilà qu’on croît voir dans le ciel balayé Pendre un grand crocodile au dos large et rayé aux trois dents de rangs acérées Sous un ventre plombé glisse un rayon du soir; Cents nuages ardents luisent sous son flanc noir comme des écailles dorées. Puis se dresse un palais. Puis l’air tremble et tout fuit. L’édifice effrayant des nuages détruits S’écroule en ruines pressées Il jonche au loin le ciel, et ses cônes vermeils Pendent, leur pointe en bas, pareils A des montagnes renversées Tout s’en va! Le soleil d’en haut précipité Comme un globe d’airain qui, rouge, est rejeté Dans les fournaises remuées En tombant sur leurs flots que son choc désunit Fait en flocons de feu jaillir jusqu’au zénith L’ardente écume des nuées 7 Read this English translation. You might like to attempt your own translation? Sunsets I love these calm, clear evening hours - these hours When sunset gilds the brows of ancient towers Shrouded in shrubbery, Or distant fog spreads out in fiery rows, Or countless rays strike archipelagos Of clouds in heaven’s sea. Oh look at the sky! Breezes above us sweep A hundred shifting tufts into a heap, Amass them in strange crowds; Below these oceans, pallid lightnings flare Quickly, as if some giant of the air Drew his sword in the clouds. And then it seems, across the windswept sky, With triple fangs and back brindled and high Some huge crocodile trails; Past its leaden flanks evening sunbeams glide; A hundred clouds glint under its black side, Glitter like golden scales. Turrets rise. Then the air quakes; it all sways The great edifice of tumbling haze Collapses into shreds, litters the distant sky; And scarlet cones hang, peak downwards, Above our heads, heaving like mountains upturne When the earthquake heaves its massive cry. All vanishes! The sun, from topmost heaven precipitated, Like a globe of iron which is tossed back fiery Into the furnace stirred to burn; Shocking the cloudy surges, plashed from its impetuous ire, Even to the zenith it spatters, in a flecking scud of fire The ardent vapour of the inflamed foam. Find phrases in the poem in French and English which describe : - the vibrant colours of the leaves on the trees in autumn which soon will fall and lie dead on the ground - the beauty of the sunset as it transforms the colour of the sky - the illumination of the sea and sky as the sun prepares to descend below the horizon - the sky gradually losing its colour as the sun begins to disappear 10 Seasons in Hugo’s novels Spring in Guernsey There are lots of possibilities for a class project - identifying the different birds, flowers etc. in this passage from ‘Les Travailleurs de la Mer’ with the help of a French- English dictionary and/or reference to the translation on the next page. ‘Les premiers papillons se posaient sur les premières roses. Tout était neuf dans la nature, les herbes, les mousses, les feuilles, les parfums, les rayons. Il semblait que le soleil n’eût jamais servi. Les cailloux étaient lavés de frais. La profonde chanson des arbres était chantée par des oiseaux nés d’hier. Il est probable que leur coquille d’œuf cassée par leur petit bec était encore dans le nid. Des essais d’ailes bruissaient dans le tremblement des branches. Ils chantaient leur premier chant, ils volaient leur premier vol. C’était un doux partage de tous à la fois, huppes, mésanges, piquebois, chardonnerets, bouvreuils, moines et misses. Les lilas, les muguets, les daphnés, les glycines, faisaient dans les fourrés un bariolage exquis. Une très jolie lentille d’eau qu’il y a à Guernesey, couvrait les mares d’une nappe d’émeraude. Les bergeronnettes et les épluque-pommiers, qui font de si gracieux petits nids, s’y baignaient. Par toutes les claires-voies de la végétation on apercevait le bleu du ciel. Quelques nuées lascives s’entre-poursuivaient dans l’azur avec des ondoiements de nymphes. On croyait sentir passer les baisers que s’envoyaient des bouches invisibles. Pas un vieux mur qui n’eût, comme un marié, son bouquet de giroflées. Les prunelliers étaient en fleur, les cytises étaient en fleur ; on voyait ces monceaux blancs qui luisaient et ces monceaux jaunes qui étincelaient à travers les entrecroisements des rameaux. Le printemps jetait tout son argent et tout son or dans l’immense panier percé des bois. Les pousses nouvelles étaient toutes fraîches vertes. On entendait en l’air des cris de bienvenue. L’été hospitalier ouvrait sa porte aux oiseaux lointains. C’était l’instant de l’arrivée des hirondelles. Les thyrses des ajoncs bordaient les talus des chemins creux, en attendant les thyrses des aubépines. Le beau et le joli faisaient bon voisinage ; le superbe se complétait par le gracieux ; le grand ne gênait pas le petit ; aucune note du concert ne se perdait ; les magnificences microscopiques étaient à leur plan dans la vaste beauté universelle ; on distinguait tout comme dans une eau limpide. Partout une divine plénitude et un gonflement mystérieux faisaient deviner l’effort panique et sacré de la sève en travail’ Your class could paint a large picture illustrating the scene with or without the help of the translation on the next page 11 Translation of passage from ‘The Toilers of the Sea’ ‘The first butterflies of the year were resting on the early roses. Everything in nature seemed new- the grass, the mosses, the leaves, the perfumes, the rays of light. The sun shone as if it had never shone before. The pebbles seemed bathed in coolness. Birds but lately fledged sang out their deep notes from the trees, or fluttered among the boughs in their attempts to use their new-found wings. There was a chattering all together of goldfinches, peewits, tomtits, woodpeckers, bullfinches, and thrushes. The blossoms of lilacs, May lilies, daphnes, and melilots mingled their various hues in the thickets. A beautiful kind of water-weed peculiar to Guernsey covered the pools with an emerald green; where the kingfishers and the water-wagtails, which make such graceful little nests, came down to bathe their wings. Through every opening in the branches appeared the deep blue sky. A few lazy clouds followed each other in the azure depths. The ear seemed to catch the sound of kisses sent from invisible lips. Every old wall had its tufts of wallflowers. The plum-trees and laburnums were in blossom; their white and yellow masses gleamed through the interlacing boughs. The spring showered all her gold and silver on the woods. The new shoots and leaves were green and fresh. Calls of welcome were in the air; the approaching summer opened her hospitable doors for birds coming from afar. It was the time of the arrival of the swallows. The clusters of furze-bushes bordered the steep sides of hollow roads in anticipation of the clusters of the hawthorn. The pretty and the beautiful reigned side by side; the magnificent and the graceful, the great and the little, had each their place. No note in the great concert of nature was lost. Green microscopic beauties took their place in the vast universal plan in which all seemed distinguishable as in limpid water. Everywhere a divine fulness, a mysterious sense of expansion, suggested the unseen effort of the sap in movement’ Does this natural scene still exist in Guernsey? Where/when did you last see some of the birds, plants, trees and flowers mentioned? Attempt a similar description of nature in a special place in Guernsey 12 Winter in Guernsey Hugo dedicated this novel to the island of Guernsey where he lived in exile for 15 years. ‘Je dédie ce livre au rocher d'hospitalité et de liberté, à ce coin de vieille terre normande où vit le noble petit peuple de la mer, à l'île de Guernesey, sévère et douce, mon asile actuel, mon tombeau probable’. Translation ‘I dedicate this book to the rock of hospitality and liberty, to that portion of old Norman ground inhabited by the noble little nation of the sea, to the island of Guernsey, severe yet kind, my present asylum, my probable tomb’ It is interesting that he begins by setting the novel of ‘Toilers of the Sea’ in the 1820’s on a snowy day in Guernsey. We cannot know if Hugo himself ever witnessed snow in Guernsey but he had obviously heard that frost and snow were remarkable events and that a white Christmas is a very rare event. The heading on the first page is entitled: ‘A word written on a white page’ ‘Un mot écrit sur une page blanche’ Extract from LES TRAVAILLEURS DE LA MER (1866) ‘La Christmas de 182... fut remarquable à Guernesey. Il neigea ce jour-là. Dans les îles de la Manche, un hiver où il gèle à glace est mémorable, et la neige fait évènement. Le matin de cette Christmas, la route qui longe la mer de Saint-Pierre-Port au valle était toute blanche. Il avait neigé depuis minuit jusqu’à l’aube. Vers neuf heures, peu après le lever du soleil, comme ce n’était pas encore le moment pour les anglicans d’aller à l’église de Saint-Sampson et pour les wesleyens d’aller à la chapelle Eldad, le chemin était à peu près désert. Dans tout le tronçon de route qui sépare la première tour de la seconde tour, il n’y avait que trois passants, un enfant, un homme et une femme. Ces trois passants, marchant à distance les uns des autres, n’avaient visiblement aucun lien entre eux. L’enfant, d’une huitaine d’années, s’était arrêté, et regardait la neige avec curiosité. L’homme venait derrière la femme, à une centaine de pas d’intervalle. Il allait comme elle du côté de Saint-Sampson. L’homme, jeune encore, semblait quelque chose comme un ouvrier ou un matelot. Il avait ses habits de tous les jours, une vareuse de gros drap brun, et un pantalon à jambières goudronnées, ce qui paraissait indiquer qu’en dépit de la fête il n’irait à aucune chapelle. Ses épais souliers de cuir brut, aux semelles garnies de gros clous, laissaient sur la neige une empreinte plus ressemblante à une serrure de prison qu’à un pied d’homme. La passante, elle, avait évidemment déjà sa toilette d’église ; elle portait une large mante ouatée de soie noire à faille, sous laquelle elle était fort coquettement ajustée d’une robe de popeline d’Irlande à bandes alternées blanches et roses, et, si elle n’eût eu des bas rouges, on eût pu la prendre pour une Parisienne. Elle allait devant elle avec une vivacité libre et légère, et, à cette marche qui n’a encore rien porté de la vie, on devinait une jeune fille. Elle avait cette grâce fugitive de l’allure qui marque la plus délicate des transitions, l’adolescence, les deux crépuscules mêlés, le commencement d’une femme dans la fin d’un enfant. L’homme ne la remarquait pas. Tout à coup, près d’un bouquet de chênes verts qui est à l’angle d’un courtil, au lieu dit les Basses-Maisons, elle se retourna, et ce 15 Victor Hugo and Christmas Victor Hugo liked to give gifts to children in Guernsey at Christmas and gave careful thought to these gifts. We know from photographs that he held a Christmas party for the poor children in Guernsey around 1865. Extracts from the local press give us a glimpse into Hugo's philanthropic nature and philosophy of life. *See Alfred Barbou’s biography of Hugo, Victor Hugo and his time, London: Sampson Low, Marston, Seattle and Rivington, 1883. (Priaulx Library, Guernsey) There is a picture of an engraving in the Priaulx Library which shows Victor Hugo in later life as the grandfatherly figure he had become from the romantic young man of his youth. : Victor Hugo and his time, London: Sampson Low, Marston, Searle, and Rivington, 1883. (Priaulx Library, Guernsey) The press report of the event goes into great detail: ‘Once a week M. Victor Hugo gives a large number of poor children an excellent dinner. He has just given out to his thirty- two protégés the clothes they needed, and gave them the pleasure of a Christmas tree, with presents suitable for their age. This family get-together took place on Wednesday [Christmas Eve] and was attended by several volunteers. Before handing out the clothes and toys, the poet gave the children a little speech couched in terms they could understand. He told them that it is every man’s duty to give their less well-off brothers some of what they have; that he was happy to do what he was doing for them; but that they should understand that they did not owe him anything, but should be grateful to the Father of all, and if they wanted to thank anyone it should not be him, but God, who makes all things well. He then spoke to them about the enormous importance of work, which is for everyone, depending upon their vocation and abilities. He said that work was the only means of making people happy, virtuous, and good. Finally, he added: 'My dear children, amongst the toys I have just given you, you will find no guns, no cannon or swords, no murderous weapon that would make you think of war or destruction. War is a dreadful thing; the people of the world are made for loving one another, not killing each other. The girls will find dolls to play with, ideal for learning how to be mother, which will be their job later in life. For the boys there are little boats and little trains, in other words toys designed to encourage work, progress and the mind, and not destruction. The toys were then handed out to the children. It was lovely to see the joy on everyone’s faces, and it would be difficult to say who was happier, those who gave the presents, or those who received them’. 16 An extract from 'LES MISERABLES’ (1862) ‘le voyageur se rappela la gracieuse et immémoriale coutume des enfants qui déposent leur chaussure dans la cheminée le jour de Noël pour y attendre dans les ténèbres quelque étincelant cadeau de leur bonne fée. Éponine et Azelma n'avaient eu garde d'y manquer, et elles avaient mis chacune un de leurs souliers dans la cheminée’. 'The traveller recalled the graceful and immemorial custom inaccordance with which children place their shoes in the chimney on Christmas eve, there to await in the darkness some sparkling gift from their good fairy. Eponine and Azelma had taken care not to omit this, and each of them had set one of her shoes on the hearth.' What is the context of this passage in ‘Les Miserables’? An extract from ‘NOTRE DAME DE PARIS’ (1831) ‘Et, si c'était une nuit de Noël, tandis que la grosse cloche, qui semblait râler, appelait les fidéles à la messe ardente de minuit, il y avait un tel air répandu sur la sombre façade qu'on eût dit que le grand portail dévorait la foule et que la rosace la regardait.’ Translation 'And if it happened to be a Christmas-night when the great bell seemed to rattle in its throat as it called the faithful to the midnight mass, there was such an indescribable air of life spread over the sombre facade that the great door-way looked as if it were swallowing the entire crowd, and the rose-window staring at them.' What is the context of this passage in Notre Dame de Paris? *See section on Victor Hugo and Paris 17 ‘L'art d'être grand-père’ (1877) In his collection of poems entitled ‘L'art d'être grand-père’ (1877), the poem ‘Fenêtres Ouvertes’ gives an evocative description of Guernsey and what can be heard through the open windows of Hauteville House on waking up half asleep in the morning. Read this poem in French and in English and attempt to write a similar poem describing what you hear when you wake up in the morning. Do you think Guernsey sounds have changed since Hugo’s day? Fenêtres Ouvertes Le matin - en dormant J'entends des voix. Lueurs à travers ma paupière. Une cloche est en branle à l'église Saint-Pierre. Cris des baigneurs. Plus près ! plus loin ! non, par ici ! Non, par là ! Les oiseaux gazouillent, Jeanne aussi. Georges l'appelle. Chant des coqs. Une truelle Racle un toit. Des chevaux passent dans la ruelle. Grincement d'une faux qui coupe le gazon. Chocs. Rumeurs. Des couvreurs marchent sur la maison. Bruits du port. Sifflement des machines chauffées. Musique militaire arrivant par bouffées. Brouhaha sur le quai. Voix françaises. Merci. Bonjour. Adieu. Sans doute il est tard, car voici Que vient tout près de moi chanter mon rouge-gorge. Vacarme de marteaux lointains dans une forge. L'eau clapote. On entend haleter un steamer. Une mouche entre. Souffle immense de la mer. 20 Translation of passage from ‘Toilers of the Sea’ The church of St. Peter's Port, with its three gable-ends placed side by side, its transept and its steeple, stands at the water's side at the end of the harbour, and nearly on the landing place itself, where it welcomes those who arrive, and gives the departing "God speed." It represents the capital letter at the beginning of that long line which forms the front of the town towards the sea. It is both the parish church of St. Peter's Port and the chief place of the Deanery of the whole island. Its officiating minister is the surrogate of the bishop, a clergyman in full orders. The harbour of St. Peter's Port, a very fine and large port at the present day, was at that epoch, and even up to ten years ago, less considerable than the harbour of St. Sampson. It was enclosed by two enormous thick walls, beginning at the water's edge on both sides, and curving till they almost joined again at the extremities, where there stood a little white lighthouse. Under this lighthouse, a narrow gullet, bearing still the two rings of the chain with which it was the custom to bar the passage in ancient times, formed the entrance for vessels. The harbour of St. Peter's Port might be well compared with the claws of a huge lobster opened a little way. This kind of pincers took from the ocean a portion of the sea, which it compelled to remain calm. But during the easterly winds the waves rolled heavily against the narrow entrance, the port was agitated, and it was better not to enter. This is what had happened with the ‘Cashmere’ that day, which had accordingly anchored in the roads.The vessels, during the easterly winds, preferred this course, which besides saved them the port dues. On these occasions the boatmen of the town, a hardy race of mariners whom the new port has thrown out of employment, came in their boats to fetch passengers at the landing-place or at stations on the shore, and carried them with their luggage, often in heavy seas, but always without accident, to the vessels about to sail. The east wind blows off the shore, and is very favourable for the passage to England; the vessel at such times rolls, but does not pitch. 21 Victor Hugo and Paris Recent tragic event in Paris echoes Victor Hugo’s description in his novel ‘Notre Dame de Paris, published in 1831 of a fire at the Cathedral of Notre Dame de Paris. Victor Hugo décrivait l’incendie dans son roman ‘Notre Dame de Paris’ publié 1831 “ Tous les yeux s’étaient levés vers le haut de l’église. Ce qu’ils voyaient était extraordinaire. Sur le sommet de la galerie la plus élevée, plus haut que la rosace centrale, il y avait une grande flamme qui montait entre les deux clochers avec des tourbillons d’étincelles, une grande flamme désordonnée et furieuse dont le vent emportait par moments un lambeau dans la fumée. Au-dessous de cette flamme, au-dessous de la sombre balustrade à trèfles de braise, deux gouttières en gueules de monstres vomissaient sans relâche cette pluie ardente qui détachait son ruissellement argenté sur les ténèbres de la façade inférieure. À mesure qu’ils approchaient du sol, les deux jets de plomb liquide s’élargissaient en gerbes, comme l’eau qui jaillit des mille trous de l’arrosoir. Au-dessus de la flamme, les énormes tours, de chacune desquelles on voyait deux faces crues et tranchées, l’une toute noire, l’autre toute rouge, semblaient plus grandes encore de toute l’immensité de l’ombre qu’elles projetaient jusque dans le ciel. Leurs innombrables sculptures de diables et de dragons prenaient un aspect lugubre. La clarté inquiète de la flamme les faisait remuer à l’œil. Il y avait des guivres qui avaient l’air de rire, des gargouilles qu’on croyait entendre japper, des salamandres qui soufflaient dans le feu, des tarasques qui éternuaient dans la fumée. Et parmi ces monstres ainsi réveillés de leur sommeil de pierre par cette flamme, par ce bruit, il y en avait un qui marchait et qu’on voyait de temps en temps passer sur le front ardent du bûcher comme une chauve-souris devant une chandelle” “All eyes were raised to the top of the church. They beheld there an extraordinary sight. On the crest of the highest gallery, higher than the central rose window, there was a great flame rising between the two towers with whirlwinds of sparks, a vast, disordered, and furious flame, a tongue of which was borne into the smoke by the wind, from time to time. Below that fire, below the gloomy balustrade with its trefoils showing darkly against its glare, two spouts with monster throats were vomiting forth unceasingly that burning rain, whose silvery stream stood out against the shadows of the lower façade. As they approached the earth, these two jets of liquid lead spread out in sheaves, like water springing from the thousand holes of a watering-pot. Above the flame, the enormous towers, two sides of each of which were visible in sharp outline, the one wholly black, the other wholly red, seemed still more vast with all the immensity of the shadow which they cast even to the sky. Their innumerable sculptures of demons and dragons assumed a lugubrious aspect. The restless light of the flame made them move to the eye. There were griffins which had the air of laughing, gargoyles which one fancied one heard yelping, salamanders which puffed at the fire, tarasques* which sneezed in the smoke. And among the monsters thus roused from their sleep of stone by this flame, by this noise, there was one who walked about, and who was seen, from time to time, to pass across the glowing face of the pile, like a bat in front of a candle”. *The Tarasque is a fearsome legendary dragon-like mythological hybrid from Provence, in southern France, tamed in a story about Saint Martha. On 25 November 2005 the UNESCO included the Tarasque on the list of Masterpieces of the Oral and Intangible Heritage of Humanity. Wikipedia Look at the context of the fire in this passage in the novel. Are there any similarities in press accounts of the fire on 15 April 2019. Can you find any descriptions of the recent fire? How do they compare with Hugo’s imaginary account? What can we conclude from this? Why do you think Notre Dame was so important to Victor Hugo? 22 Notes ‘Les Châtiments’ published in 1853 was a collection of satirical poems which contributed to Hugo’s exile from France. It was a virulent condemnation of the tyranny of the newly proclaimed Emperor Napoleon III who Hugo openly declared as a traitor to France. As well as exaggerating the failings of Louis Napoleon’s regime, the collection is a strong critique of a society bound by censorship of the press and the arts. It has references to political figures all of whom gained notoriety for their corrupt and cruel natures. Between 1855 and 1876, he wrote a collection of poems entitled, ‘La Légende des Siècles’, contemplating the ‘wall of centuries’, indistinct and terrible, on which scenes of the past, present and future are drawn, and along which the whole procession of humanity can be seen. Thes poems are depictions of these scenes, perceived and interspersed with terrifying visions. Hugo sought obscure figures, usually his own inventions, who incarnated and symbolized their eras. As he proclaims in the preface to the first series, “this is history, eavesdropped upon the door of legend.” He combines different poetic genres- lyrical, epic and satirical to form a view of human experience, seeking to illustrate the history of humanity, and to bear witness to its long journey ‘from the darkness into the light’ ( A reminder here of climbing the stairs in Hauteville House?) In 1871, in the garden of Hauteville House, Victor Hugo and his grandchildren planted ‘un chêne’ from an acorn. He named it “Oak of the United States of Europe”, hoping the tree would see Europe united and at peace. More than a century after Hugo’s death, the oak is still alive. If you have not yet made a visit to Hauteville House in Guernsey, you will find it is not just a house! If you have visited it recently, you can see the tree in the garden and the house restored to how it was when Victor Hugo was living there. What are your impressions?