"The Man Who Laughs" by Victor Hugo. Book The Man Who Laughs read online Short story The Man Who Laughs

The starting point in the plot of the novel is January 29, 1690, when an abandoned child turns up in Portland under mysterious circumstances.

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Introduction

Artistic method

The first part of the novel (“Sea and Night”)

Life and death in children's and adult consciousness

Children's consciousness, according to the basic principles of romanticism, is perfect. In this regard, it cannot find the boundary between life and death, since in the mind of a child a person lives even after death. In the first book, the author extrapolates the child’s thoughts, feelings, and experiences to real life. As a result, there were episodes of the struggle of the smuggler's corpse with a flock of crows and the boy's meeting with a dead woman and her child. Both the smuggler and the woman are alive for Gwynplaine. Moreover, they act nobly (the smuggler protects Gwynplaine from the crows, and the woman gives all her warmth to the blind girl), therefore, they did not lose their moral foundations after death. One of the author’s ideas (which subsequently determines the evolution of the protagonist’s character) is that Gwynplaine managed to preserve a child’s consciousness (albeit in a slightly different form) throughout his life. That is, Gwynplaine is a romantic hero who opposes the inert world around him, and, therefore, his consciousness has not been “matured” by reality.

The lesson's passengers have a completely different consciousness. Adults understand the difference between life and death and do everything to save their lives during a storm. A notable character of Urka is the “wise” and “crazy” old man. Romantic traits appear in his image. During the disaster, his consciousness finally becomes childish. Without urging people to save themselves, he urged them to accept death. Of particular importance here is the recitation of the final prayer “Our Father” (in Latin, Spanish and Irish). By praying, people acquire childlike simplicity. Death ceases to seem something scary. Everyone remained on their knees, despite the fact that the water covered the heads of the passengers in the lesson.

The second part of the novel (“By order of the king”)

It begins with an introduction to the name “Gwynplaine”, which became the last word of the previous part. Nature “endowed him with a mouth that opened to the ears, ears that were curled up to the eyes, a shapeless nose, ... and a face that could not be looked at without laughing.” Despite all this, Gwynplaine was happy and sometimes even felt sorry for people.

In England everything is majestic, even the bad, even the oligarchy. The English patrician is a patrician in the full sense of the word. Nowhere was there a feudal system more brilliant, more cruel and more tenacious than in England. True, at one time it turned out to be useful. It is in England that feudal law must be studied, just as royal power must be studied in France.

This book should actually be entitled “Aristocracy.” The other, which will be its continuation, can be called “Monarchy”. Both of them, if the author is destined to complete this work, will be preceded by a third, which will close the entire cycle and will be entitled “The Ninety-third Year.”

Hauteville House, 1869

Ursus and Homo were bound by bonds of close friendship. Ursus was a man, Homo was a wolf. Their personalities suited each other very well. The name "Homo" was given to the wolf by man. He probably came up with his own; Having found the nickname “Ursus” suitable for himself, he considered the name “Homo” quite suitable for the beast. The partnership between man and wolf was a success at fairs, at parish festivals, at street intersections where passers-by crowded, the crowd was always happy to listen to the joker and buy all sorts of charlatan drugs. She liked the tame wolf, who deftly, without coercion, carried out the orders of his master. It is a great pleasure to see a tamed obstinate dog, and there is nothing more pleasant than watching all the varieties of training. That is why there are so many spectators along the route of the royal motorcades.

Ursus and Homo wandered from crossroads to crossroads, from Aberystwyth square to Eedburgh square, from one area to another, from county to county, from city to city. Having exhausted all the possibilities at one fair, they moved on to another. Ursus lived in a shed on wheels, which Homo, well-trained enough for this purpose, drove during the day and guarded at night. When the road became difficult due to potholes, mud, or when going uphill, the man harnessed himself to the strap and pulled the cart like brothers, side by side with the wolf. So they grew old together.

They settled down for the night wherever they had to - in the middle of an unplowed field, in a forest clearing, at the intersection of several roads, at the village outskirts, at the city gates, on the market square, in places of public festivities, at the edge of the park, on the church porch. When the cart stopped at some fairground, when the gossips came running with their mouths open and a circle of onlookers gathered around the booth, Ursus began to rant, and Homo listened to him with obvious approval. Then the wolf politely walked around those present with a wooden cup in his teeth. This is how they earned their living. The wolf was educated, and so was the man. The wolf was taught by man or taught himself all sorts of wolf tricks that increased the collection.

“The main thing is don’t degenerate into a human being,” the owner used to tell him in a friendly manner.

A wolf has never bitten, but this has sometimes happened to a person. In any case, Ursus had an urge to bite. Ursus was a misanthrope and, to emphasize his hatred of man, he became a buffoon. In addition, it was necessary to feed ourselves somehow, because the stomach always makes its claim. However, this misanthrope and buffoon, perhaps thinking in this way to find a more important place in life and a more difficult job, was also a doctor. Moreover, Ursus was also a ventriloquist. He could speak without moving his lips. He could mislead those around him, copying the voice and intonation of any of them with amazing accuracy. He alone imitated the roar of the whole crowd, which gave him every right to the title of “engastrimit.” That's what he called himself. Ursus reproduced all sorts of bird voices: the voice of a song thrush, teal, lark, white-breasted blackbird - wanderers like himself; thanks to this talent, he could, at will, at any moment, give you the impression of either a square buzzing with people, or a meadow resounding with the lowing of a herd; sometimes he was menacing, like a rumbling crowd, sometimes childishly serene, like the morning dawn. Such talent, although rare, still occurs. In the past century, a certain Tuzel, who imitated the mixed hum of human and animal voices and reproduced the cries of all animals, served as a human menagerie. Ursus was insightful, extremely original and inquisitive. He had a penchant for all sorts of stories that we call fables, and pretended to believe them himself - the usual trick of a crafty charlatan. He told fortunes by hand, by a book opened at random, predicted fate, explained signs, assured that meeting a black mare was a sign of bad luck, but what is even more dangerous to hear when you are completely ready to go is the question: “Where are you going?” He called himself a “salesman of superstitions,” usually saying, “I don’t hide it; that is the difference between the Archbishop of Canterbury and me.” The archbishop, rightly indignant, one day summoned him to his place. However, Ursus skillfully disarmed his eminence by reading before him a sermon of his own composition on the day of the Nativity of Christ, which the archbishop liked so much that he learned it by heart, delivered it from the pulpit and ordered it to be published as his work. For this he granted Ursus forgiveness.

Thanks to his skill as a healer, and perhaps despite it, Ursus healed the sick. He treated with aromatic substances. Well versed in medicinal herbs, he skillfully used the enormous healing powers contained in a variety of neglected plants - in pride, in white and evergreen buckthorn, in black viburnum, warthog, in ramen; he treated sundew for consumption, used, as needed, milkweed leaves, which, when picked at the root, act as a laxative, and when picked at the top, as an emetic; healed throat diseases with the help of growths of a plant called “rabbit’s ear”; he knew what kind of reed could cure an ox and what kind of mint could put a sick horse back on his feet; knew all the valuable, beneficial properties of mandrake, which, as everyone knows, is a bisexual plant. He had medicine for every occasion. He healed burns with the skin of a salamander, from which Nero, according to him, made a napkin. Ursus used a retort and a flask; he himself carried out the distillation and sold the universal potions himself. There were rumors that at one time he was in a madhouse: he was given the honor of being taken for an insane person, but was soon released, convinced that he was just a poet. It is possible that this did not happen: each of us has been a victim of such stories.

In reality, Ursus was a literate man, a lover of beauty and a writer of Latin verses. He was a scientist in two fields, for at the same time. He has knowledge of the poetic craft. He could have composed Jesuit tragedies no less successfully than Father Bugur. Thanks to his close acquaintance with the famous rhythms and meters of the ancients, Ursus in his everyday life used figurative expressions and a number of classical metaphors characteristic of him alone. About his mother, in front of whom walked two daughters, he said: “This is a dactyl”; about a father followed by his two sons: “This is an anapest”; about the grandson walking between his grandfather and grandmother: “This is an amphimacry.” With such an abundance of knowledge, one can only live from hand to mouth. recommends: “Eat little, but often.” Ursus ate little and rarely, thus fulfilling only the first half of the prescription and neglecting the second. But this was the fault of the public, who did not gather every day and did not buy too often. Ursus said: “If you cough up an instructive saying, it will become easier. A wolf finds solace in howling, a ram in warm wool, a forest in a robin, a woman in love, and a philosopher in an instructive saying.” Ursus sprinkled in comedies as needed, which he himself played with sin: this helped sell drugs. Among other works, he composed a heroic pastoral in honor of the knight Hugh Middleton, who in 1608 brought a river to London. This river flowed calmly sixty miles from London, in the county of Hartford; Knight Middleton appeared and took possession of her; he brought with him six hundred people armed with spades and hoes, began to dig the ground, lowering the soil in one place, raising it in another, sometimes raising the river twenty feet, sometimes deepening its bed thirty feet, built above-ground water pipelines from wood, built eight hundred bridges, stone, brick and log, and then one fine morning the river entered the borders of London, which at that time was experiencing a shortage of water. Ursus transformed these prosaic details into a charming bucolic scene between the River Thames and the Serpentine River. A powerful stream invites the river to itself, inviting it to share its bed with it. “I’m too old,” he says, “to please women, but rich enough to pay for them.” This was a witty and gallant hint that Sir Hugh Middleton had done all the work at his own expense.

The tramp Ursus appears to be a versatile person, capable of numerous tricks: he can ventriloquize and convey any sounds, brew healing infusions, he is an excellent poet and philosopher. Together with their pet wolf Gomo, who is not a pet, but a friend, assistant and show participant, they travel throughout England in a wooden carriage, decorated in a very unusual style. On the walls there was a long treatise on the rules of etiquette of English aristocrats and no shorter list of the possessions of all those in power. Inside this chest, for which Homo and Ursus themselves acted as horses, there was a chemical laboratory, a chest with belongings and a stove.

In the laboratory, he brewed potions, which he then sold, luring people with his performances. Despite his many talents, he was poor and often went without food. His inner state was always dull rage, and his outer shell was irritation. However, he chose his own fate when he met Gomo in the forest and chose wandering over life with the lord.

He hated aristocrats and considered their government evil - but he still painted the cart with treatises about them, considering this a small satisfaction.

Despite the persecution of the Comprachicos, Ursus still managed to avoid problems. He himself did not belong to this group, but he was also a tramp. The Comprachicos were gangs of itinerant Catholics who turned children into freaks for the amusement of the public and the royal court. To do this, they used various surgical methods, deforming the developing bodies and creating dwarf jesters.

Part one: cold, the hanged man and the baby

The winter from 1689 to 1690 turned out to be truly harsh. At the end of January, a Biscay urka stopped in Portland harbor, where eight men and a small boy began to load chests and provisions. When the job was done, the men swam away, leaving the child to freeze on the shore. He resignedly accepted his share, setting off on the journey so as not to freeze to death.

On one of the hills he saw the body of a hanged man covered in tar, under which lay shoes. Even though the boy himself was barefoot, he was afraid to take the dead man’s shoes. A sudden rush of wind and the shadow of a crow frightened the boy, and he began to run.

Meanwhile, at the lesson, the men rejoice at their departure. They see that the storm is coming and decide to turn west, but this does not save them from death. By some miracle, the ship remains intact after hitting a reef, but it turns out to be overfilled with water and sank. Before the crew is killed, one of the men writes a letter and seals it in a bottle.

A boy wanders through a snowstorm and stumbles upon a woman's footprints. He walks along them and stumbles upon the body of a dead woman in a snowdrift, next to whom lies a living nine-month-old girl. The kid takes her and goes to the village, but all the houses are locked.

Eventually, he found shelter in Ursus's cart. Of course, he didn’t particularly want to let the boy and baby girl into his house, but he couldn’t leave the kids to freeze. He shared his dinner with the boy and fed the baby milk.

When the children fell asleep, the philosopher buried the dead woman.

In the morning, Ursus discovered that a mask of laughter was frozen on the boy’s face, and the girl was blind.

Lord Linnaeus Clencharley was a "living fragment of the past" and was an ardent republican who did not defect to the restored monarchy. He himself went into exile on Lake Geneva, leaving his mistress and illegitimate son in England.

The mistress quickly became friends with King Charles II, and son David Derry-Moir found a place for himself at court.

The forgotten lord found himself a legitimate wife in Switzerland, where he had a son. However, by the time James II ascended the throne, he had already died and his son had mysteriously disappeared. The heir was David Derry-Moir, who fell in love with the beautiful Duchess Josiana, the king's illegitimate daughter.

Anna, the legitimate daughter of James II, became the queen, and Josianna and David still did not get married, although they really liked each other. Josiana was considered a depraved virgin, since it was not modesty that limited her from numerous love affairs, but pride. She couldn't find someone worthy of her.

Queen Anne, an ugly and stupid person, was jealous of her stepsister.

David was not cruel, but he loved various cruel entertainments: boxing, cockfighting and others. He often entered such tournaments disguised as a commoner, and then, out of kindness, paid for all the damage. His nickname was Tom-Jim-Jack.

Barkilphedro was also a triple agent who was monitoring the queen, Josiana and David at the same time, but each of them considered him their reliable ally. Under the patronage of Josiana, he entered the palace and became an uncorker of ocean bottles: he had the right to open all bottles thrown onto land from the sea. He was sweet on the outside and evil on the inside, sincerely hating all his masters, and especially Josiana.

Part three: tramps and lovers

Guiplen and Deya remained to live with Ursus, who officially adopted them. Guiplen began to work as a buffoon, attracting buyers and spectators who could not contain their laughter. Their popularity was prohibitive, which is why three tramps were able to acquire a new large wagon and even a donkey - now Homo did not need to pull the cart on himself.

Inner beauty

Deya grew into a beautiful girl and sincerely loved Guiplen, not believing that her lover was ugly. She believed that if he is pure in soul and kind, then he cannot be ugly.

Deya and Guiplen literally idolized each other, their love was platonic - they did not even touch each other. Ursus loved them as his own children and rejoiced in their relationship.

They had enough money to not deny themselves anything. Ursus was even able to hire two gypsy women to help with housework and during performances.

Part Four: The Beginning of the End

In 1705, Ursus and his children arrived in the vicinity of Southwark, where he was arrested for public speaking. After a lengthy interrogation, the philosopher is released.

Meanwhile, David, under his guise as a commoner, becomes a regular spectator of Gwynplaine's performances, and one evening he brings Josiana to see the freak. She understands that this young man should become her lover. Gwynplaine himself is amazed by the beauty of the woman, but he still sincerely loves Deya, whom he now began to dream of as a girl.

The Duchess sends him a letter inviting him to her place.

Gwynplaine suffers all night, but in the morning she still decides to refuse the duchess’s invitation. He burns the letter, and the artists begin breakfast.

However, at this moment the wand-bearer arrives and takes Gwynplaine to prison. Ursus secretly follows them, although in doing so he breaks the law.

In prison, the young man is not tortured - on the contrary, he witnesses the terrible torture of another person who confesses to his crime. It turns out that he was the one who disfigured Gwynplaine as a child. During interrogation, the unfortunate man also confesses that in fact Gwynplaine is Lord Fermin of Clancharlie, peer of England. The young man faints.

In this Barkilphedro sees an excellent reason for revenge on the duchess, since she is now obliged to marry Gwynplaine. When the young man comes to his senses, he is brought to his new chambers, where he indulges in dreams of the future.

Victor Hugo’s masterpiece “Les Miserables” remains a very popular work today, which is also confirmed by the many versions of its film adaptation and theatrical productions.

In our next article, we will learn more about the biography of Victor Hugo, an outstanding French writer and poet, whose work left an indelible mark on the history of literature.

Part Six: Ursus Masks, Nudity and the House of Lords

Ursus returns home, where he puts on a performance in front of Deya so that she does not notice Gwynplaine is missing. Meanwhile, a bailiff comes to them and demands that the artists leave London. He also brings Gwynplaine's things - Ursus runs to the prison and sees the coffin being taken out of there. He decides that his named son has died and begins to cry.

Meanwhile, Gwynplaine himself is looking for a way out of the palace, but stumbles upon Josiana’s chambers, where the girl showers him with caresses. However, upon learning that the young man is to become her husband, he drives him away. She believes that the groom cannot take the place of his lover.

The Queen summons Gwynplaine to her and sends him to the House of Lords. Since the other lords are old and blind, they do not notice the freak of the newly-made aristocrat, and therefore listen to him first. Gwynplaine talks about the poverty of the people and their troubles, that revolution will soon overwhelm the country if nothing is changed - but the lords only laugh at him.

The young man seeks consolation from David, his half-brother, but he slaps him in the face and challenges him to a duel for insulting his mother.

Gwynplaine escapes from the palace and stops on the banks of the Thames, where he reflects on his former life and how he allowed vanity to overwhelm him. The young man realizes that he himself exchanged his real family and love for a parody, and decides to commit suicide. However, Homo appears and saves him from such a step.

Conclusion: Death of Lovers

The wolf brings Gwynplaine to the ship, where the young man hears his adoptive father talking to Deya. She says that she will soon die and go after her lover. In her delirium, she begins to sing - and then Gwynplaine appears. However, the girl’s heart cannot withstand such happiness and she dies in the arms of the young man. He understands that there is no point in living without his beloved and throws himself into the water.

Ursus, who lost consciousness after the death of his daughter, comes to his senses. Gomo sits next to them and howls.

Hugo Victor

The man who laughs

In England everything is majestic, even the bad, even the oligarchy. The English patrician is a patrician in the full sense of the word. Nowhere was there a feudal system more brilliant, more cruel and more tenacious than in England. True, at one time it turned out to be useful. It is in England that feudal law must be studied, just as royal power must be studied in France.

This book should actually be entitled “Aristocracy.” The other, which will be its continuation, can be called “Monarchy”. Both of them, if the author is destined to complete this work, will be preceded by a third, which will close the entire cycle and will be entitled “The Ninety-third Year.”

Hauteville House. 1869.

PROLOGUE

1. URSUS

Ursus and Homo were bound by bonds of close friendship. Ursus [bear (lat.)] was a man, Homo [man (lat.)] was a wolf. Their personalities suited each other very well. The name "Homo" was given to the wolf by man. He probably came up with his own; Having found the nickname “Ursus” suitable for himself, he considered the name “Homo” quite suitable for the beast. The partnership between man and wolf was a success at fairs, at parish festivals, at street intersections where passersby crowded; the crowd is always happy to listen to the joker and buy all sorts of charlatan drugs. She liked the tame wolf, who deftly, without coercion, carried out the orders of his master. It is a great pleasure to see a tamed obstinate dog, and there is nothing more pleasant than watching all the varieties of training. That is why there are so many spectators along the route of the royal motorcades.

Ursus and Homo wandered from crossroads to crossroads, from Aberystwyth square to Eedburgh square, from one area to another, from county to county, from city to city. Having exhausted all the possibilities at one fair, they moved on to another. Ursus lived in a shed on wheels, which Homo, well-trained enough for this purpose, drove during the day and guarded at night. When the road became difficult due to potholes, mud, or when going uphill, the man harnessed himself to the strap and pulled the cart like brothers, side by side with the wolf. So they grew old together.

They settled down for the night wherever they had to - in the middle of an unplowed field, in a forest clearing, at the intersection of several roads, at the village outskirts, at the city gates, on the market square, in places of public festivities, at the edge of the park, on the church porch. When the cart stopped at some fairground, when the gossips came running with their mouths open and a circle of onlookers gathered around the booth, Ursus began to rant, and Homo listened to him with obvious approval. Then the wolf politely walked around those present with a wooden cup in his teeth. This is how they earned their living. The wolf was educated, and so was the man. The wolf was taught by man or taught himself all sorts of wolf tricks that increased the collection.

“The main thing is don’t degenerate into a human being,” the owner used to tell him in a friendly manner.

A wolf has never bitten, but this has sometimes happened to a person. In any case, Ursus had an urge to bite. Ursus was a misanthrope and, to emphasize his hatred of man, he became a buffoon. In addition, it was necessary to feed ourselves somehow, because the stomach always makes its claim. However, this misanthrope and buffoon, perhaps thinking in this way to find a more important place in life and a more difficult job, was also a doctor. Moreover, Ursus was also a ventriloquist. He could speak without moving his lips. He could mislead those around him, copying the voice and intonation of any of them with amazing accuracy. He alone imitated the roar of the whole crowd, which gave him every right to the title of “engastrimit.” That's what he called himself. Ursus reproduced all sorts of bird voices: the voice of a song thrush, teal, lark, white-breasted blackbird - wanderers like himself; thanks to this talent, he could, at any moment, at will, give you the impression of either a square buzzing with people, or a meadow resounding with the lowing of a herd; sometimes he was menacing, like a rumbling crowd, sometimes childishly serene, like the morning dawn. Such talent, although rare, still occurs. In the past century, a certain Tuzel, who imitated the mixed hum of human and animal voices and reproduced the cries of all animals, was under Buffon as a menagerie man. Ursus was insightful, extremely original and inquisitive. He had a penchant for all sorts of stories that we call fables, and pretended to believe them himself - the usual trick of a crafty charlatan. He told fortunes by hand, by a book opened at random, predicted fate, explained signs, assured that meeting a black mare was a sign of bad luck, but what is even more dangerous to hear when you are completely ready to go is the question: “Where are you going?” He called himself a “salesman of superstitions,” usually saying, “I don’t hide it; that is the difference between the Archbishop of Canterbury and me.” The archbishop, rightly indignant, one day summoned him to his place. However, Ursus skillfully disarmed his eminence by reading before him a sermon of his own composition on the day of the Nativity of Christ, which the archbishop liked so much that he learned it by heart, delivered it from the pulpit and ordered it to be published as his work. For this he granted Ursus forgiveness.

Thanks to his skill as a healer, and perhaps despite it, Ursus healed the sick. He treated with aromatic substances. Well versed in medicinal herbs, he skillfully used the enormous healing powers contained in a variety of neglected plants - in pride, in white and evergreen buckthorn, in black viburnum, warthog, in ramen; he treated sundew for consumption, used, as needed, milkweed leaves, which, when picked at the root, act as a laxative, and when picked at the top, as an emetic; healed throat diseases with the help of growths of a plant called “rabbit’s ear”; he knew what kind of reed could cure an ox and what kind of mint could put a sick horse back on his feet; knew all the valuable, beneficial properties of mandrake, which, as everyone knows, is a bisexual plant. He had medicine for every occasion. He healed burns with the skin of a salamander, from which Nero, according to Pliny, made a napkin. Ursus used a retort and a flask; he himself carried out the distillation and sold the universal potions himself. There were rumors that at one time he was in a madhouse; They honored him by mistaking him for an insane person, but soon released him, making sure that he was just a poet. It is possible that this did not happen: each of us has been a victim of such stories.

In reality, Ursus was a literate man, a lover of beauty and a writer of Latin verses. He was a scientist in two fields, for he simultaneously followed in the footsteps of both Hippocrates and Pindar. In knowledge of the poetic craft he could compete with Ranen and Vida. He could have composed Jesuit tragedies no less successfully than Father Bugur. Thanks to his close acquaintance with the famous rhythms and meters of the ancients, Ursus in his everyday life used figurative expressions and a number of classical metaphors characteristic of him alone. About his mother, in front of whom walked two daughters, he said: “This is a dactyl”; about a father followed by his two sons: “This is an anapest”; about the grandson walking between his grandfather and grandmother: “This is an amphimacry.” With such an abundance of knowledge, one can only live from hand to mouth. The Salerno School recommends: “Eat little, but often.” Ursus ate little and rarely, thus fulfilling only the first half of the prescription and neglecting the second. But this was the fault of the public, who did not gather every day and did not buy too often. Ursus said: “If you cough up an instructive saying, it will become easier. A wolf finds solace in howling, a ram in warm wool, a forest in a robin, a woman in love, and a philosopher in an instructive saying.” Ursus sprinkled in comedies as needed, which he himself played with sin: this helped sell drugs. Among other works, he composed a heroic pastoral in honor of the knight Hugh Middleton, who in 1608 brought a river to London. This river flowed calmly sixty miles from London, in the county of Hartford; Knight Middleton appeared and took possession of her; he brought with him six hundred people armed with spades and hoes, began to dig the ground, lowering the soil in one place, raising it in another, sometimes raising the river twenty feet, sometimes deepening its bed thirty feet, built above-ground water pipelines from wood, built eight hundred bridges, stone, brick and log, and then, one fine morning, the river entered the borders of London, which at that time was experiencing a shortage of water. Ursus transformed these prosaic details into a charming bucolic scene between the River Thames and the Serpentine River. A powerful stream invites the river to itself, inviting it to share its bed with it. “I’m too old,” he says, “to please women, but rich enough to pay for them.” This was a witty and gallant hint that Sir Hugh Middleton had done all the work at his own expense.

Artists and buffoons appeared a long time ago, and at the same time groups of people arose who turned beggars into jesters and freaks. At first these were real mutilated ones, and then they began to be made artificially.

In the seventeenth century, the matter was put on stream. Comprachicos were the name of the tramps who turned children into freaks and forced them to perform in front of the public. All this happened with the permission of the authorities. But fortunately nothing lasts forever. With the change of power, the Comprachicos were persecuted. They fled in a hurry, they abandoned everyone they didn’t need, and took away the most precious and necessary things.

Among those abandoned was a boy who had undergone surgery and was now constantly smiling. The boy's name was Gwynplaine because he was not taken and accepted without complaint. The poor fellow, left alone, wandered wherever he looked. On the way, he found a dead woman, a girl was sitting next to her, she was not yet a year old. The boy took the baby with him. The children find shelter in the carriage of the traveling artist Ursus. Only in the morning does he realize that the girl is blind and the boy is mutilated. Maybe that's why he didn't drive them away. Now they started making money together.

Time passes, the children grew up and, despite their injuries, passionately fell in love with each other. Gwynplaine entertains everyone with his appearance, and Deya, the name of the found girl, helps him in everything. At one of these performances, he meets the duchess and falls in love. Here another twist in fate occurs, Gwynplaine learns that he is a lord. Now he is all in dreams of a rich and happy life.

Love for Deya turns out to be stronger than all the benefits that are now available to him. He tries to find Ursus and Deya and finds them on the schooner. The girl is terminally ill. Only now did Gwynplaine realize that his meaning in life lay in Dey. To connect with his beloved, the young man jumps into the water.

True sincere love is stronger than fame and wealth. Having been among greedy and deceitful people, Gwynplaine made his choice, only it was too late.

Detailed retelling

Ursus and his tamed wolf named Homo, which translates from Latin as “man,” did not have a permanent place of residence. Instead of a house, they had a small cart, reminiscent of a box, harnessed into which the man and the wolf traveled throughout England. Ursus's activities and talents were very diverse: he staged street performances, composed poetry, plausibly imitated the voices of animals and birds, and had the ability to ventriloquize and philosophize. In his mobile home, which also served as a laboratory, he prepared medicines that he offered to the sick. Arriving at a new place, Ursus and the wolf gathered an audience, showing tricks or performing a performance, and the gathered spectators willingly bought the medicines of the wandering healer. These two lived rather poorly, they didn’t even have food every day, but Ursus preferred hunger to slavish satiety in the palace.

In those dark times, when human life was worth negligible, there was such a thing as comprachicos. Comprachicos were the name given to scoundrels who mutilated people, often children, turning them through surgical operations into dwarfs, amusing monsters. Comprachicos supplied jesters to the courts of aristocrats. Funny freaks entertained the idle public during fairs in the squares. Despite the law persecuting these scammers, the demand for the “product” they produced was great, and they continued their criminal acts.

One cold January evening in 1690, a ship set sail from a bay in Portland Bay, leaving a small boy dressed in rags and completely barefoot on the shore. An abandoned child was left alone on a deserted shore.

The boy climbed up a steep slope. An endless snow-covered plain stretched out before him. He walked at random for a long time until he saw smoke indicating human habitation. Running towards the desired warmth, the child came across a dead woman. A baby girl was crawling near the poor thing. Picking up the baby and hiding her under his jacket, the boy continued on his way.

The cold and tired boy finally reached the town, but none of the residents answered his knock on the door. Only in Ursus's small cart was the boy able to warm up and eat. The wanderer and philosopher did not at all want to have children, but the boy, whose face was disfigured by a frozen smile, and the blind one-year-old girl remained with him.

That night, a storm broke out at sea, and a gang of comprochicos, who mutilated and then abandoned the boy, were washed overboard. Anticipating death, the leader wrote a confession and threw it into the water in a sealed flask.

Years passed, the children grew up. Together with Ursus, who became their father, they wandered around the country. Deya, as the girl was called, was extraordinarily beautiful, and Gwynplaine turned into a stately, flexible young man. His face was terrible, they said he looked like a laughing jellyfish. But it was his ugliness and artistic talent that brought success to the Ursus troupe. They began to earn good money and even acquired some farming.

Deya and Guimplen tenderly loved each other with brotherly love, the aging Ursus rejoiced looking at them.

One day they came to London, and there their performance was so popular that all their competitors went bankrupt from the lack of attention from the public. Duchess Josiana also came to see the “man who laughs.” She was struck by the extraordinary young man and she wanted to see him as her lover. After Guimplen refused, he was arrested. Deya, having lost her beloved, became very sad. She had a bad heart, and Ursus was afraid that the girl would die.

In prison, Guimplen was seen by a criminal who was being tortured. He recognized our hero as a scion of royal blood sold to the Comprachekos. The guy came out of prison as a titled aristocrat.

The Queen endowed Guimplen with various titles, but high society did not accept him. Returning to Ursus, Guimplen finds the dying Deia.

The novel ends with Deya dying, Guimplen committing suicide by throwing himself into the water, and Ursus again remaining with Homo.

This work teaches the ability to sympathize, to share what little you have. Although Ursus was left alone, helping these children, he was happy.

Reader's diary.