ER
Oh wow, I love the colors on this! And the way everything interlocks and overlaps?? (and is Grantaire’s stubble actually writing? I can’t quite tell!) What a cool take on the characters!
enjolras
I watched Les Mis in the Queen’s Theatre and I’m still crying.
When they sang “here’s to pretty girls who went to our heads”, Grantaire snorted and looked at Enjolras.
Enjolras touches Grantaire more than any other character (mostly trying to derail him, but still).
This Grantaire stood his ground repeatedly, it was lovely. Like, dirty looks when Enjolras is winding up Gavroche. Not letting him get to Marius when he needed a moment. Constantly trying to lighten the mood. Arguing with Bahorel to the point Enjolras has to mediate (which mostly consists on the derailing mentioned above but I’m not complaining).
Before Enjolras climbed the barricade for the last time, they held hands and as they were letting go, Grantaire kissed Enjolras wrist, desperately.
They don’t hold hands as they die though. Grantaire sees Enjolras fall. I can’t get over that. Not getting over that. Ever.
- Sois sérieux, dit Enjolras
- Je suis farouche, répondit Grantaire."Be serious," said Enjolras.
"I am wild," responded Grantaire.From Victor Hugo’s original handwritten draft of Les Misérables. [x]
“They fought hand to hand, foot to foot, with pistol shots, with blows of the sword, with their fists, at a distance, close at hand, from above, from below, from everywhere, from the roofs of the houses, from the windows of the wine-shop, from the cellar windows, whither some had crawled. They were one against sixty.
[…]
Marius, still fighting, was so riddled with wounds, particularly in the head, that his countenance disappeared beneath the blood, and one would have said that his face was covered with a red kerchief. Enjolras alone was not struck.” – Les Miserables–
Marius | Enjolras
The Barricade Project, Part V ~ FIN.
[Part I] [Part II] [Part III] [Part IV]
historymaker-inprocessofmoving:
Enjolras, pale, with bare neck and dishevelled hair, and his woman’s face, had about him at that moment something of the antique Themis. His dilated nostrils, his downcast eyes, gave to his implacable Greek profile that expression of wrath and that expression of Chastity which, as the ancient world viewed the matter, befit Justice.
