In the beginning, Victor Hugo wrote a novel.
Permit a digression. It is absolutely necessary to relate that this novel is and was entitled Quatre-Vingt Treize, and has absolutely no bearing on the rest of the story, except that the date 1793 figures heavily in understanding the revolutionary attitudes of several characters in the Novel Les Miserables, published in 1862 by the same author (though the first novel mentioned was actually his last, it it still a demmed good read!). Thank God, it is now out of copyright.
The reason why it is such a blessing that M. Hugo's novel is out of copyright is that if it were not, a man named Cameron Makintosh would never have produced (with the Royal Shakespere company, which relies on another author out of copyright: one William Shakespere, who wrote a formidable collection of plays and poetry in 16th and 17th century England. But he was an Englishman, while Hugo was French. Nevertheless, Les Miserables speaks to all countries of Europe...) a magnificent Musical based on the text, and this tale could not be related. For the Musical is the Gateway drug unto the Novel, and a life of Toulon-esque toil in pursuit of...
...Perhaps a convict, whose primary offense involved nothing so blase as a loaf of bread. A crime fitting nicely in a breadbox!
or...
...Perhaps a grim Inspector with muttonchops that little red riding hood may be lost in (And nearly was, when Philip Quast played the Big Bad Wolf in another musical Into The Woods the Lyrics to which were written by James Lapine. These details are not signifigant to the story; but M. Hugo has abolished Trivia. No really! A whole chapter of Waterloo- Alors! And how does he justify it? A character, Marius' father was rescued by a villian named Thenardier in the following chaos, sparking an obsessive vindication of the villian by the Aforementioned Marius for the latter half of the Book. No more a stretch than my reaclling Into the Woods through a reference to Javert's sideburns, simply because both roles were played by Philip Quast... Damn arent these parentheticals long!), and whom spent the better part of twenty years in search of the Aforementioned convict.
or...
...Any other of many adoptable characters available at this website!:
End of Digression.
And Cameron Macintosh said, "LET THERE BE MUSIC!!!"
And there was music. And Philip Quast auditioned for a piece of the Music.
And Trevor Nunn said, "LET HIM BE JAVERT!!!"
And damn, but that man WAS Javert!
In another part of the Galaxy, a man named Bill Gates said, "LET THERE BE WEB!!!"
And there was Web, and the Quasties and persuers of Convicts cheered, for now they had the all important, all powerful flower which is the goal of revolution: PUBLIC DOMAIN.
And all of them wished to be called Javert, for it was, too, PUBLIC DOMAIN, as has been explained. (Philip Quast did not want to change his name to Phillipe Javert; mores the pity.)
And the Webmaster said, "LET THERE BE FREE E-MAIL!"
And all the little Na-Javert clamored to Geocities and Chickmail and Yahoo and Xoom and all the rest, and they became...
RABSJAVERT and
LA JAVERT and
MLLE JAVERT and
JAVERT24601 and
SIENEDIVER and...
a lot of other variations on the same, most simple theme.
And the little Na-Javert dreamed, and daydreamed, and thought about Philip Quast and Terrence Mann and Roger Allam and they sighed, and they daydreamed some more...
And they read The Scarlet Pimpernel And the Phantom of the Opera and they watched musicals and got ideas...
And their heads burst so with ideas that they just HAD to get them down onto little papers and web pages and the like!!!
And the name of this phenomenon, this creative outpouring, this fluxom flood, was called:
FANFICTION!
And fanfic was a good thing and a beautiful thing, and the Na-Javert reveled in it and abused it terribly, with such subheadings as CROSSOVERS and SLASH and ROMANCE.
But, as this qualifies as fanfic, after a fashion though it be a treatise or an essay or a MAD DIGRESSIVE RAMBLE, the Author cannot claim herself exempt from this crime...
and other, more heinous ones, as shall be detailed later, no doubt punishable with at LEAST 20 years...
And a good sound thwacking with a nightstick.
This might possibly go on...