Now I see why Les Miserables got such great reviews. It touched me, to my core. By the second half I was inconsolable, struggling to see the play behind my waterfall of tears. Why does it have such an impact on me? Perhaps that’s a silly question for someone who drove all the way to Philadelphia, to see the Rodin Museum and cried for the sculptures. But, that’s neither here nor there. I need to understand why this story makes me so emotional. After all I have nothing in common with the male protagonist Jean Valjean, who was convicted of stealing bread. So why do I care? Why am I crying like an idiot while simultaneously being thankful for waterproof mascara? But I digress. I was hooked from the very beginning; he stole the bread for his sister’s starving child. He’s selfless and brave, but not perfect.

It’s like the Sumerian proverb all over again, a mule isn’t just a mule. Everyone’s mule is different. For Jean Valjean the mule is his past. Inspector Javert is relentless in pursuing him, he believes him dangerous and a criminal. Valjean causes Javert to struggle with his own morality. He swore to uphold the law but finds himself being sympathetic to Valjean. In every close call Valgean is putting another before himself. Even when Valjean is given the chance to end Javert’s life, he sets him free. Javert is so conflicted, he takes his life by jumping into the river. This brought to mind the Norse proverbs and how distrusting we can be of each other.   In both Les miserable and the epic of Gilgamesh the instrument of change was love. But do we really believe people change? Do they always remain a version of their former selves?