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Les Misérables, Volume 3: Marius, Book Seventh: Patron Minette, Chapter 3: Babet, Gueulemer, Claquesous, and Montparnasse<br />
(Tome 3: Marius, Livre septième: Patron-Minette, Chapitre 3: Babet, Gueulemer, Claquesous et Montparnasse)

==General notes on this chapter==

==French text==

Un quatuor de bandits, Claquesous, Gueulemer, Babet et Montparnasse,
gouvernait de 1830 à 1835 le troisième dessous de Paris.

Gueulemer était un Hercule déclassé. Il avait pour antre l'égout de
l'Arche-Marion. Il avait six pieds de haut, des pectoraux de marbre, des
biceps d'airain, une respiration de caverne, le torse d'un colosse, un
crâne d'oiseau. On croyait voir l'Hercule Farnèse vêtu d'un pantalon de
coutil et d'une veste de velours de coton. Gueulemer, bâti de cette
façon sculpturale, aurait pu dompter les monstres; il avait trouvé plus
court d'en être un. Front bas, tempes larges, moins de quarante ans et
la patte d'oie, le poil rude et court, la joue en brosse, une barbe
sanglière; on voit d'ici l'homme. Ses muscles sollicitaient le travail,
sa stupidité n'en voulait pas. C'était une grosse force paresseuse. Il
était assassin par nonchalance. On le croyait créole. Il avait
probablement un peu touché au maréchal Brune, ayant été portefaix à
Avignon en 1815. Après ce stage, il était passé bandit.

La diaphanéité de Babet contrastait avec la viande de Gueulemer. Babet
était maigre et savant. Il était transparent, mais impénétrable. On
voyait le jour à travers les os, mais rien à travers la prunelle. Il se
déclarait chimiste. Il avait été pitre chez Bobèche et paillasse chez
Bobino. Il avait joué le vaudeville à Saint-Mihiel. C'était un homme à
intentions, beau parleur, qui soulignait ses sourires et guillemetait
ses gestes. Son industrie était de vendre en plein vent des bustes de
plâtre et des portraits du «chef de l'État». De plus, il arrachait les
dents. Il avait montré des phénomènes dans les foires, et possédé une
baraque avec trompette, et cette affiche:—Babet, artiste dentiste,
membre des académies, fait des expériences physiques sur métaux et
métalloïdes, extirpe les dents, entreprend les chicots abandonnés par
ses confrères. Prix: une dent, un franc cinquante centimes; deux dents,
deux francs; trois dents, deux francs cinquante. Profitez de
l'occasion.—(Ce «profitez de l'occasion» signifiait: faites-vous-en
arracher le plus possible.) Il avait été marié et avait eu des enfants.
Il ne savait pas ce que sa femme et ses enfants étaient devenus. Il les
avait perdus comme on perd son mouchoir. Haute exception dans le monde
obscur dont il était, Babet lisait les journaux. Un jour, du temps qu'il
avait sa famille avec lui dans sa baraque roulante, il avait lu dans le
''Messager'' qu'une femme venait d'accoucher d'un enfant suffisamment
viable, ayant un mufle de veau, et il s'était écrié: ''Voilà une fortune!
ce n'est pas ma femme qui aurait l'esprit de me faire un enfant comme
cela''!

Depuis, il avait tout quitté pour «entreprendre Paris». Expression de
lui.

Qu'était-ce que Claquesous? C'était la nuit. Il attendait pour se
montrer que le ciel se fût barbouillé de noir. Le soir il sortait d'un
trou où il rentrait avant le jour. Où était ce trou? Personne ne le
savait. Dans la plus complète obscurité, à ses complices, il ne parlait
qu'en tournant le dos. S'appelait-il Claquesous? non. Il disait: Je
m'appelle Pas-du-tout. Si une chandelle survenait, il mettait un masque.
Il était ventriloque. Babet disait: ''Claquesous est un nocturne à deux
voix''. Claquesous était vague, errant, terrible. On n'était pas sûr
qu'il eût un nom, Claquesous étant un sobriquet; on n'était pas sûr
qu'il eût une voix, son ventre parlant plus souvent que sa bouche; on
n'était pas sûr qu'il eût un visage, personne n'ayant jamais vu que son
masque. Il disparaissait comme un évanouissement; ses apparitions
étaient des sorties de terre.

Un être lugubre, c'était Montparnasse. Montparnasse était un enfant;
moins de vingt ans, un joli visage, des lèvres qui ressemblaient à des
cerises, de charmants cheveux noirs, la clarté du printemps dans les
yeux; il avait tous les vices et aspirait à tous les crimes. La
digestion du mal le mettait en appétit du pire. C'était le gamin tourné
voyou, et le voyou devenu escarpe. Il était gentil, efféminé, gracieux,
robuste, mou, féroce. Il avait le bord du chapeau relevé à gauche pour
faire place à la touffe de cheveux, selon le style de 1829. Il vivait de
voler violemment. Sa redingote était de la meilleure coupe, mais râpée.
Montparnasse, c'était une gravure de modes ayant de la misère et
commettant des meurtres. La cause de tous les attentats de cet
adolescent était l'envie d'être bien mis. La première grisette qui lui
avait dit: Tu es beau, lui avait jeté la tache des ténèbres dans le
c&oelig;ur, et avait fait un Caïn de cet Abel. Se trouvant joli, il avait
voulu être élégant; or la première élégance, c'est l'oisiveté;
l'oisiveté d'un pauvre, c'est le crime. Peu de rôdeurs étaient aussi
redoutés que Montparnasse. À dix-huit ans, il avait déjà plusieurs
cadavres derrière lui. Plus d'un passant les bras étendus gisait dans
l'ombre de ce misérable, la face dans une mare de sang. Frisé, pommadé,
pincé à la taille, des hanches de femme, un buste d'officier prussien,
le murmure d'admiration des filles du boulevard autour de lui, la
cravate savamment nouée, un casse-tête dans sa poche, une fleur à sa
boutonnière; tel était ce mirliflore du sépulcre.

==English text==

A quartette of ruffians, Claquesous, Gueulemer, Babet, and Montparnasse
governed the third lower floor of Paris, from 1830 to 1835.

Gueulemer was a Hercules of no defined position. For his lair he had the
sewer of the Arche-Marion. He was six feet high, his pectoral muscles were
of marble, his biceps of brass, his breath was that of a cavern, his torso
that of a colossus, his head that of a bird. One thought one beheld the
Farnese Hercules clad in duck trousers and a cotton velvet waistcoat.
Gueulemer, built after this sculptural fashion, might have subdued
monsters; he had found it more expeditious to be one. A low brow, large
temples, less than forty years of age, but with crow's-feet, harsh, short
hair, cheeks like a brush, a beard like that of a wild boar; the reader
can see the man before him. His muscles called for work, his stupidity
would have none of it. He was a great, idle force. He was an assassin
through coolness. He was thought to be a creole. He had, probably,
somewhat to do with Marshal Brune, having been a porter at Avignon in
1815. After this stage, he had turned ruffian.

The diaphaneity of Babet contrasted with the grossness of Gueulemer. Babet
was thin and learned. He was transparent but impenetrable. Daylight was
visible through his bones, but nothing through his eyes. He declared that
he was a chemist. He had been a jack of all trades. He had played in
vaudeville at Saint-Mihiel. He was a man of purpose, a fine talker, who
underlined his smiles and accentuated his gestures. His occupation
consisted in selling, in the open air, plaster busts and portraits of "the
head of the State." In addition to this, he extracted teeth. He had
exhibited phenomena at fairs, and he had owned a booth with a trumpet and
this poster: "Babet, Dental Artist, Member of the Academies, makes
physical experiments on metals and metalloids, extracts teeth, undertakes
stumps abandoned by his brother practitioners. Price: one tooth, one
franc, fifty centimes; two teeth, two francs; three teeth, two francs,
fifty. Take advantage of this opportunity." This Take advantage of this
opportunity meant: Have as many teeth extracted as possible. He had been
married and had had children. He did not know what had become of his wife
and children. He had lost them as one loses his handkerchief. Babet read
the papers, a striking exception in the world to which he belonged. One
day, at the period when he had his family with him in his booth on wheels,
he had read in the Messager, that a woman had just given birth to a child,
who was doing well, and had a calf's muzzle, and he exclaimed: "There's a
fortune! my wife has not the wit to present me with a child like that!"

Later on he had abandoned everything, in order to "undertake Paris." This
was his expression.

Who was Claquesous? He was night. He waited until the sky was daubed with
black, before he showed himself. At nightfall he emerged from the hole
whither he returned before daylight. Where was this hole? No one knew. He
only addressed his accomplices in the most absolute darkness, and with his
back turned to them. Was his name Claquesous? Certainly not. If a candle
was brought, he put on a mask. He was a ventriloquist. Babet said:
"Claquesous is a nocturne for two voices." Claquesous was vague, terrible,
and a roamer. No one was sure whether he had a name, Claquesous being a
sobriquet; none was sure that he had a voice, as his stomach spoke more
frequently than his voice; no one was sure that he had a face, as he was
never seen without his mask. He disappeared as though he had vanished into
thin air; when he appeared, it was as though he sprang from the earth.

A lugubrious being was Montparnasse. Montparnasse was a child; less than
twenty years of age, with a handsome face, lips like cherries, charming
black hair, the brilliant light of springtime in his eyes; he had all
vices and aspired to all crimes.

The digestion of evil aroused in him an appetite for worse. It was the
street boy turned pickpocket, and a pickpocket turned garroter. He was
genteel, effeminate, graceful, robust, sluggish, ferocious. The rim of his
hat was curled up on the left side, in order to make room for a tuft of
hair, after the style of 1829. He lived by robbery with violence. His coat
was of the best cut, but threadbare. Montparnasse was a fashion-plate in
misery and given to the commission of murders. The cause of all this
youth's crimes was the desire to be well-dressed. The first grisette who
had said to him: "You are handsome!" had cast the stain of darkness into
his heart, and had made a Cain of this Abel. Finding that he was handsome,
he desired to be elegant: now, the height of elegance is idleness;
idleness in a poor man means crime. Few prowlers were so dreaded as
Montparnasse. At eighteen, he had already numerous corpses in his past.
More than one passer-by lay with outstretched arms in the presence of this
wretch, with his face in a pool of blood. Curled, pomaded, with laced
waist, the hips of a woman, the bust of a Prussian officer, the murmur of
admiration from the boulevard wenches surrounding him, his cravat
knowingly tied, a bludgeon in his pocket, a flower in his buttonhole; such
was this dandy of the sepulchre.

==Translation notes==

==Textual notes==

==Citations==
<references />

Volume 3/Book 7/Chapter 3 - Revision history

Historymaker: Created page with "Les Misérables, Volume 3: Marius, Book Seventh: Patron Minette, Chapter 3: Babet, Gueulemer, Claquesous, and Montparnasse (Tome 3: Marius, Livre septième:..."

Historymaker: Created page with "Les Misérables, Volume 3: Marius, Book Seventh: Patron Minette, Chapter 3: Babet, Gueulemer, Claquesous, and Montparnasse
(Tome 3: Marius, Livre septième:..."