If you end up alone for the holidays, message me and we’ll set up an X-Men marathon watch party, or multiple parties if people want. And we’ll talk Cherik and fanmakes and we’ll be critical of the films and it’ll be great. :D
could you give us a list of puns in les mis? the only one i know of is R's nickname :c
Oh my there are too many!! I’ll give you those I can recall on top of my head:
Enjolras: That’s not really a pun, but it’s super cool: the French verb “enjôler” means “to seduce with good, compelling words” and Enjolras is a great orator
Joly: “joli” means “cute” in French, dunno if Hugo was onto that one but I’m onto it
Feuilly: He is a fanmaker and the french word “feuille” means “sheet of paper”… Because you know…….. paper…. fans…. ugh i’m so done with that guy
Patron-Minette: Comes from the french expression “à potron-minet” which means very early in the morning, because that’s when their crime stop, with sunrise
Corinthe: I may be totally stretching this, but “Corinthe” is a pretty popular type of grapes/raisins in France and the Corinthe iS A FUCKING WINE SHOP
Bossuet: Honestly, Bossuet’s name is too convoluted and I don’t recall the details. But there is a pun there. A very very complicated one
Les Amis de l’ABC : ABC when read out loud give “abaissés” (downtrodden)
Fantine: Sounds an awful lot like “enfantine” (child-like) because she was given that name as a child
Montparnasse: I was pretty sure his name came from Théophile Gauthier’s “Parnasse” movement that advocated art for art’s sake, just like Montparnasse is a dandy and is very mindful of his appearence, but the movement only took place in 1866, so 4 years after Les Mis was published. So it’s either related to Montparnasse as a real place in Paris, aka a boulevard or a cemetary (fitting for an assassin). OR it could be a reference to Mount Parnassus (Mont Parnasse, funny how that works) in Greece, related to Apollo because he’s a very handsome guy. Like… the dude is a solid 10
Gibelotte: It’s a rabbit stew and Gibelotte is a flipping WAITRESS I CANNOT
Matelote: Same with a fish stew IM SO MAD
Cosette: means small talk or little thing…. don’t…. don’t ask
Myriel, Bishop of Digne: in the French texte, within the first page (I kid you not, the FIRST PAGE), it is said that Myriel is a “digne curé” = “a worthy priest” DIGNE. FLIPPING DIGNE. THE BOOK ITSELF STARTS ON A BLOODY PUN HOW CAN I TAKE THAT GUY SERIOUSLY
Feuilly, *38* Sympathy (wow I am Bad With Numbers)
38 - Sympathy I’m not sure which meaning to go with - offering/receiving sympathy or finding people sympathetic?
For the former - he’s quick to offer sympathy on his part, but excessive/melodramatic displays of it direced at him on behalf of his Tough Situation bother him. He’s managing, thankyouverymuch. (This only really happens with looser acquaintances - wealthy students, mostly - who skirt the ABC and may or may not stick around.)
For the latter - By default he’s friendly with everyone, but doesn’t usually instantly ‘click’ with people. He takes a little while to do that.
10 - Art (I might as well do it :) ) Though becoming a fanmaker wasn’t 100% his choice (not because he was forced into it or anything, but limited options kinda rule out ‘fee choice’) he actually really likes making pretty things. If Fate was kinder he might have made a career out of it.
In a modern AU he’d be an illustrator, a tattoo artist or a graphic designer - something that takes a helluva lot of hard work, dedication and practice, but is rutinely written off as Not Art. (And would be a clashing point with Grantaire, a painter, and therefore Proper Artist. Not that R takes it seriously in any way, but he likes to talk shit and this is a Sore Spot for Feuilly.)
For young craftsmen, making a name among well-established brands is perhaps the hardest part of the trade. To do so, the artisans working at London’s Goldsmiths’ Center have the backing of a group that follows the spirit of medieval guilds.
Goldsmiths’ Company, is one of the oldest livery companies, or guilds, of the City of London. It received a royal charter in 1327 to control the standard of silver and precious metals being sold through the hallmarking system. While most of London’s other medieval guilds, such as the Fanmakers, have seen their original trade disappear, the Goldsmiths’ company has kept its link to the profession. Two years ago, it opened a space for trainees and postgraduate students to work and study. More
I know I sound like a broken record at this point, but really this point cannot be said enough; please leave comments on fic, art and other fanwork. Especially now that replies are back.
I know hits and likes seem fine, and if you’re in a rush, I understand, but without a comment, likes only tell me that someone pressed a button, not that someone read it (for example, people use likes for bookmarks to read later, not that they actually liked it).
By comments, I don’t mean a book report (thought if you wanna write one, please do). Just a sentence on what you liked is fine. Simple stuff. And with replies back on Tumblr, it’s easier than ever to leave a comment on a piece of work you adored. Or leaving comments in your reblog tags works as well, for those who are more shy (yes, I read them. I installed tag viewer just for it).
I really can’t stress enough, people. Please leave your fanmakers comments if you can. We do our work for free. Paying us with a kind word is all we ask.
Feuilly, and Coming Home? (happytimes please I need happytimes)
can do happytimes! :D
Five times Feuilly came home; and one time he didn’t, but it was okay
It’s small, and dusty, and the one window is too dirty to see the street below; the austere beige that covers the room is discoloured in places, and there’s a draft coming from under the door. The walls are paper thin, and the neighbours aren’t quiet.
But there’s also a bed in the corner of the room, which is miles better than the haystack of a mattress Feuilly had been sleeping on at the workshop; a little table, a chest to put his clothes in, a cupboard for bread and cheese and bowls, and a small but serviceable stove. It’s not too far from the workshop, but far enough not to encounter coworkers when he doesn’t want to. The drafty door has a lock, and the landlady, a Mme. Jackowska, has a kind and warm smile.
All in all, it seems to be a better place than anything Feuilly has ever lived in - and most importantly, it’shis.
“Home,” Feuilly whispers. He sets his bag on the bed, and looks around. He doesn’t quite feel it, not yet - perhaps he could hang some curtains on the window, find a little rug to place near the bed - but in his fifteen years, it’s the first time he is anywhere close to having a home to himself, and he smiles.