A revolutionary fiction character from the roman of Victor Hugo, "The wretched"
I must confess it's my second username here, not the one I intended as first intention, after I decided the previous one leaked my identity past personal taste.
Both are related though, since it's also the signature name of the real historical figure I admire the most :
Louise Michel, when she was exchanging letters with Hugo
My initial meaning is to be found on the poem named "Above men" (in latin), after he wrote in her honor, which gets me down to my knees each times, so close it defines my core fiber. The context is not invented, but reports a court trial that happened. I've not been moved deeper by another art piece.
———The french original text is sublime, but not aware of any accurate translation, here comes Google's slaughter——-
Having seen the huge massacre, the fight
The people on their cross, Paris on their pallet,
The tremendous pity was in your words.
You were doing what big crazy souls do
And, tired of struggling, dreaming of suffering,
You said, "I killed!" Because you wanted to die.
You were lying against you, terrible and superhuman.
Judith the dark Jew, Aria the Roman
Clapped hands while you were talking.
You said to the granaries: "I burned the palaces!"
You glorified those who are crushed and trampled on.
You were screaming, "I killed! Let me kill me! - And the crowd
Listened to this haughty woman accusing herself.
You seemed to send the tomb a kiss;
Your fixed eye hung over the livid judges;
And you thought like the grave Eumenides.
The pale dead man was standing behind you.
The whole vast hall was full of dread.
Because the bleeding people hate the civil war.
Outside we heard the rumor of the city.
This woman listened to life with confused noises
From above, in the austere attitude of refusal.
She didn't seem to understand anything else
That a pillory erected for an apotheosis;
And, finding noble affront and beautiful torture
Sinister, she hastened the step towards the tomb
The judges whispered, "Let her die! It's just
She is infamous - Unless she is Auguste "
Said their conscience. And judge them, thoughtful
In front of yes, in front of no, as between two reefs
Wavering, looking at the severe culprit.
And those who, like me, know you are incapable
Of all that is not heroism and virtue,
Who knows if you were told, "Where are you from?"
You would answer: "I come from the night when we suffer;
Yes, I come out of the duty of which you are making a pit!
Those who know your mysterious and sweet verses,
Your days, your nights, your care, your tears given to everyone,
Your forgetting of yourself to help others,
Your word like the flames of the apostles;
Those who know the roof without fire, without air, without bread
The strap bed with the fir table
Your kindness, your pride as a popular woman.
The bitter tenderness that sleeps under your anger
Your long look of hatred to all inhumans
And the feet of the children warmed in your hands;
These, woman, before your fierce majesty
Meditated, and despite the bitter fold of your mouth
Despite the curser who, beating on you
Threw you all the indignant cries of the law
Despite your fatal and high voice accusing you
See the angel shine through the jellyfish.
You were tall, and seemed strange in these debates;
Because, puny like all the living here below,
Nothing troubles them more than two souls mixed
May the divine chaos of starry things
Overview at the bottom of a big inclined heart
And that radiation seen in a blaze.
——-Despite her sins (not fully innocent), in the end, she was not let to choose the death penalty, but was deported on an island
——
Bold Woman with audacity
