The Victor Hugo in Guernsey Festival

The Victor Hugo in Guernsey Festival
THE TOILERS OF THE SEA - NOTES FOR TEACHERS
Relevant to the competitions to be held in 2016 on the occasion of
th
the Festival celebrating the 150 anniversary of the publication of Victor Hugo’s novel.
These notes should be read in association with the document: VH Festival Educ & Youth Prog*.doc which
has been circulated at the same time.
[i] Introduction
Our aim is to bring pupils to an awareness of The Toilers of the Sea, a great novel set in Guernsey and
written by Victor Hugo while he was living in Guernsey. The novel has descriptions and references to • Buildings and landscapes: the haunted house at Pleinmont; the Commercial Arcade
• Events: Gilliatt fighting the octopus
• People: Gilliat, Deruchette
• Vessels: the Durande.
Festival Competitions:
It is anticipated that schools will select 2 entries in each competition and age group for the finals and attach
an entry form (attached) before sending/delivering them to the Guille Allez Library.
ART – draw or paint one of these subjects: any size up to A3, any shape.
• Monster Octopus OR
• Haunted House OR
• Durande Paddle Steamer
PHOTOGRAPHY – One print, black or white, or colour, maximum size A4 based upon:
• Vale Castle OR
• Hanois lighthouse OR
• Commercial Arcade.
ENGLISH
Poetry writing – maximum 120 words about any one of the subjects below.
Story writing – maximum 500 words about any one of the subjects below.
• Finding your name in the snow [See Hogarth’s translation p.59].
• Fighting a giant octopus [See Hogarth’s translation pp. 356-358].
• Saving a life at sea [See Hogarth’s translation pp. 134-5]
DRAMA or DANCE
One 5-10 minutes drama recorded on video for judging but capable of performance.
Any subject inspired by The Toilers of the Sea. Here are some examples:
• “Le Thierry discovers his ship is lost”
• “Gilliat overhears Deruchette and the priest Ebenezer talking of love”
• “Gilliat and the circling birds” ballet/dance
We hope that students will respond to a description of a scene and interpret it with particular attention to
capturing the spirit of Hugo.
This is not an examination. Our over-riding concern is that students enjoy the project. At best a student
will think deeply about the scene selected and create a striking interpretation. For example, an image of the
haunted house will scare the viewer! Even if a student produces a mundane copy of an existing image,
she/he will have learned about the novel and engaged with it.
These projects are cross-curricular and could work across several departments – art, literature, history,
French, etc. Above everything, it is important that the students enjoy the experience.
We have nominated certain scenes that we think will appeal most easily. If, however, there are compelling
reasons why a school or student wishes to work on a theme not listed, please do not hesitate to contact us.
We shall in principle wish to accommodate such requests by having an ‘open’ category.
If teachers wish to draw any matters to our attention (e.g. disability of a pupil) we shall treat that in strict
confidence. We envisage that there could be circumstances in which a certificate of commendation might
appropriately be awarded.
The organisers of the Festival reserve the right to reproduce any of the entries and/or give copyright
permission to third parties such as the local media.
[ii] A synopsis of the story
[based on Wiki, several corrections made]
There are essentially two stories –
• A love story – Gilliatt loves Deruchette but she goes off with Ebenezer Caudray.
• An adventure story – Clubin plots to wreck the Durande, then pretend to die, and escape abroad
with money that a villain called Rantaine had stolen from Lethierry.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------A woman arrives in Guernsey, with her son Gilliatt, and buys a house. The boy grows up, the woman dies.
Gilliatt becomes a good fisherman and sailor. People believe him to be a wizard.
In Guernsey also lives Mess Lethierry – a former sailor and owner of the first steamship of the island, the
Durande – with his niece Deruchette. One day, at Christmas, when going to church, she sees Gilliatt on the
road and writes his name in the snow. He sees this and becomes obsessed with her gesture. In time he
falls in love with her and goes to play the bagpipes near her house.
Sieur Clubin, the trusted captain of Durande, sets up a plan to sink the ship on the Hanois rocks and flee
with a ship of Spanish smugglers. He gets in touch with Rantaine, a swindler who had stolen a large sum of
money from Mess Lethierry many years ago. Clubin takes the money from Rantaine at gunpoint.
In thick fog, Clubin sails for the Hanois from where he can easily swim to the shore, meet the smugglers,
and disappear, giving the appearance of having drowned. Instead, he loses his way and sails to the
Douvres rocks which are much further from the shore. Left alone on the ship, he is terrified, but he sees a
cutter and leaps into the water to catch it. In that moment he feels grabbed by the leg and is pulled down to
the bottom.
Everybody in Guernsey finds out about the shipwreck. Mess Lethierry is desperate to get the Durande 's
engine back. His niece declares she will marry the rescuer of the engine, and Mess Lethierry swears she
will marry no other. Gilliatt immediately takes up the mission, enduring hunger, thirst, and cold trying to free
the engine from the wreck. In a battle with an octopus, he finds the skeleton of Clubin and the stolen money
on the bottom of the sea.
Eventually he succeeds in returning the engine to Lethierry, who is very pleased and ready to honour his
promise. Gilliatt appears in front of the people as the rescuer but he declines to marry Deruchette because
he had seen her accepting a marriage proposal made by Ebenezer Caudray, the young priest recently
arrived on the island. He arranges their hurried wedding and helps them run away on the sailing ship
Cashmere. In the end, with all his dreams shattered, Gilliatt decides to wait for the tide sitting on the Gild
Holm'Ur chair (a rock in the sea) and drowns as he watches the Cashmere disappear on the horizon.
Characters
• Gilliatt: a fisherman
• Mess Lethierry: owner of the ship Durande, the island's first steam ship
• Déruchette: Mess Lethierry's young niece
• Sieur Clubin: captain of the Durande
• Ebenezer Caudray: young Anglican priest, recently arrived on the island
[iv] Texts
The most frequently used translation was published recently - The Toilers of the Sea (Modern Library
Classics) Paperback – by Victor Hugo (Author), James Hogarth (Translator).
There is a version of the translation available on the internet –
http://www.archive.org/stream/toilersofthesea32338gut/pg32338.txt
[v] Passages in French and English relevant to the topics
Haunted House on Guernsey - from Toilers of the Sea
"Pleinmont... is one of the three corners of Guernsey. At the extremity of the Cape is a high turfy hill, which
commands a wide sea view. It is a very lonely spot, all the more so, for on it is a solitary house. This house
adds a sense of terror to that of solitude.
It is believed to be haunted.
Haunted or not, its appearance is strange. It is a one-storeyed house, built of granite, and stands in the
midst of the grassy solitude. Built of granite, and rising only one story high, it stands in the midst of the
grassy solitude. It is in a perfectly good condition as far as exterior is concerned; the walls are thick and the
roof is sound. Not a stone is wanting in the sides, not a tile upon the roof. A brick-built chimney-stack forms
the angle of the roof. The building turns its back to the sea, being on that side merely a blank wall. On
examining this wall, however, attentively, the visitor perceives a little window bricked up. The two gables
have three dormer windows, one fronting the east, the others fronting the west, but both are bricked up in
like manner. The front, which looks inland, has alone a door and windows. This door, too, is walled in, as
are also the two windows of the ground-floor. On the first floor—and this is the feature which is most
striking as you approach—there are two open windows; but these are even more suspicious than the blind
windows. Their open squares look dark even in broad day, for they have no panes of glass, or even
window-frames. They open simply upon the dusk within. They strike the imagination like hollow eyesockets in a human face. Inside all is deserted. Through the gaping casements you may mark the ruin
within. No panellings, no woodwork; all bare stone. It is like a windowed sepulchre, giving liberty to the
spectres to look out upon the daylight world. The rains sap the foundations on the seaward side. A few
nettles, shaken by the breeze, flourish in the lower part of the walls. Far around the horizon there is no
other human habitation. The house is a void; the abode of silence: but if you place your ear against the wall
and listen, you may distinguish a confused noise now and then, like the flutter of wings. Over the walled
door, upon the stone which forms its architrave, are sculptured these letters, "ELM-PBILG," with the date
"1780."
[See Hogarth’s translation, pp. 149-151; in other editions look for the chapter entitled Pleinmont. The
description of the house is two or three pages into the chapter.]
The Haunted House at Pleinmont as it looked circa 1900
It was demolished by the Germans during the Occupation (1940-45).
THE DURANDE
The Durande was the name of the paddle steamer that Lethierry built. It was designed to sail between St
Peter Port and St Malo each week. It had both sails and a funnel and paddle wheels. Hugo’s description of
the ship is rather technical but do not let that put you off. If you google Forfarshire you will gain an idea of
what the Durande looked like.
Forfarshire was a paddlesteamer with brigantine rigging
"Lethierry's Galley" was not masted with a view to sailing well; a fact which was not a defect; it is, indeed,
one of the laws of naval construction. Besides, her motive power being steam, her sails were only
accessory. A paddle steamboat, moreover, is almost insensible to sails. The new steam-vessel was too
short, round, and thick-set. She had too much bow, and too great a breadth of quarter. The daring of
inventors had not yet reached the point of making a steam-vessel light; Lethierry's boat had some of the
defects of Gilliatt's Dutch sloop. She pitched very little, but she rolled a good deal. Her paddle-boxes were
too high. She had too much beam for her length. The massive machinery encumbered her, and to make
her capable of carrying a heavy cargo, her constructors had raised her bulwarks to an unusual height,
giving to the vessel the defects of old seventy-fours, a bastard model which would have to be cut down to
render them really seaworthy, or fit to go into action. Being short, she ought to have been able to veer
quickly—the time employed in a manœuvre of that kind being in proportion to the length of the vessel—but
her weight deprived her of the advantage of her shortness. Her midship-frame was too broad, a fact which
retarded her; the resistance of the sea being proportioned to the largest section below the water-line, and
to the square of the speed. Her prow was vertical, which would not be regarded as a fault at the present
day, but at that period this portion of the construction was invariably sloped at an angle of forty-five
degrees. All the curving lines of the hull agreed well together, but it was not long enough for oblique sailing,
or for lying parallel with the water displaced, which should always be thrown off laterally.
[See Hogarth’s translation p. 103 and following. Other translations – look for the chapter entitled The Devil
Boat].
THE OCTOPUS
Gilliatt goes to the Roches Douvres to rescue the engine of the Durande. He encounters an octopus. Artists
have frequently depicted the octopus. If you google ‘Images of Toilers of the Sea’ you will find some.
The swimmer who, attracted by the beauty of the spot, ventures among breakers in the open sea, where
the still waters hide the splendours of the deep, or in the hollows of unfrequented rocks, in unknown
caverns abounding in sea plants, testacea, and crustacea, under the deep portals of the ocean, runs the
risk of meeting it. If that fate should be yours, be not curious, but fly. The intruder enters there dazzled; but
quits the spot in terror.
This frightful apparition, which is always possible among the rocks in the open sea, is a greyish form which
undulates in the water. It is of the thickness of a man's arm, and in length nearly five feet. Its outline is
ragged. Its form resembles an umbrella closed, and without handle. This irregular mass advances slowly
towards you. Suddenly it opens, and eight radii issue abruptly from around a face with two eyes. These
radii are alive: their undulation is like lambent flames; they resemble, when opened, the spokes of a wheel,
of four or five feet in diameter. A terrible expansion! It springs upon its prey.
The devil-fish harpoons its victim.
It winds around the sufferer, covering and entangling him in its long folds. Underneath it is yellow; above, a
dull, earthy hue: nothing could render that inexplicable shade dust coloured. Its form is spider-like, but its
tints are like those of the chamelion. When irritated it becomes violet. Its most horrible characteristic is its
softness.
Its folds strangle, its contact paralyses.
It has an aspect like gangrened or scabrous flesh. It is a monstrous embodiment of disease.
[Hogarth’s translation pp. 349-358. Other translations - see the chapters entitled The Monster and the
following chapter for the struggle].
THE COMMERCIAL ARCADE
Gilliatt visited the Commercial Arcade to buy a ring for the wedding of
Déruchette and Ebenezer. The Arcade looked much the same in Hugo’s day as it does today.
Many shops at St. Peter's Port were closed. In the Commercial Arcade there was an absolute stagnation in
buying and selling. The Durande alone obtained attention. Not a single shopkeeper had had a sale that
morning, except a jeweller, who was surprised at having sold a wedding-ring to "a sort of man who
appeared in a great hurry, and who asked for the house of the Dean." The shops which remained open
were centres of gossip, where loiterers discussed the miraculous salvage.
[Hogarth p. 407-8. Other translations – see chapter entitled The Church Near Havelet Bay].
THE HANOIS LIGHTHOUSE
The lighthouse was built during the years 1860-62, just before Hugo wrote The Toilers of the Sea. It gave
warning to shipping about the dangerous rocks in the area.
In the novel Clubin planned to wreck the Durande on the rocks at the Hanois and then secretly swim
ashore to Guernsey.
You will find several good illustrations of the lighthouse if you google.
VALE CASTLE
The medieval castle looms over St Sampson’s and the Vale. Gilliatt passed it on his way to Paradis Island
(at the end of the volume). See Hogarth’s translation, p. 426. Other translations – see the last chapter of
the volume.
French texts follow on new pages.
FRENCH TEXTS FROM LES TRAVAILLEURS DE LA MER
These texts could be used for reading practice, or translation.
[1] THE OPENING SCENE
Le matin de cette Christmas, la route qui longe la mer de Saint-Pierre-Port au Valle était toute blanche. Il
avait neigé depuis minuit jusqu’à l’aube. Vers neuf heures, peu après le lever du soleil, comme ce n’était
pas encore le moment pour les anglicans d’aller à l’église de Saint Sampson et pour les wesleyens d’aller à
la chapelle Eldad, le chemin était à peu près désert. Dans tout le tronçon de route qui sépare la première
tour de la seconde tour, il n’y avait que trois passants, un enfant, un homme et une femme. Ces trois
passants, marchant à distance les uns des autres, n’avaient visiblement aucun lien entre eux. L’enfant,
d’une huitaine d’années, s’était arrêté, et regardait la neige avec curiosité. L’homme venait derrière la
femme, à une centaine de pas d’intervalle. Il allait comme elle du côté de Saint-Sampson. L’homme, jeune
encore, semblait quelque chose comme un ouvrier ou un matelot. Il avait ses habits de tous les jours, une
vareuse de gros drap brun, et un pantalon à jambières goudronnées, ce qui paraissait indiquer qu’en dépit
de la fête il n’irait à aucune chapelle. Ses épais souliers de cuir brut, aux semelles garnies de gros clous,
laissaient sur la neige une empreinte plus ressemblante à une serrure de prison qu’à un pied d’homme. La
passante, elle, avait évidemment déjà sa toilette d’église ; elle portait une large mante ouatée de soie noire
à faille, sous laquelle elle était fort coquettement ajustée d’une robe de popeline d’Irlande à bandes
alternées blanches et roses, et, si elle n’eût eu des bas rouges, on eût pu la prendre pour une Parisienne.
Elle allait devant elle avec une vivacité libre et légère, et, à cette marche qui n’a encore rien porté de la vie,
on devinait une jeune fille. Elle avait cette grâce fugitive de l’allure qui marque la plus délicate des
transitions, l’adolescence, les deux crépuscules mêlés, le commencement d’une femme dans la fin d’un
enfant. L’homme ne la remarquait pas.
[2] GILLIATT’S LOVE OF BIRDS
Les enfants ont pour joie de dénicher les nids de goélands et de mauves dans les falaises. Ils en
rapportent des quantités d’œufs bleus, jaunes et verts avec lesquels on fait des rosaces sur les devantures
des cheminées. Comme les falaises sont à pic, quelquefois le pied leur glisse, ils tombent, et se tuent. Rien
n’est joli comme les paravents décorés d’œufs d’oiseaux de mer. Gilliatt ne savait qu’inventer pour faire le
mal. Il grimpait, au péril de sa propre vie, dans les escarpements des roches marines, et y accrochait des
bottes de foin avec de vieux chapeaux et toutes sortes d’épouvantails, afin d’empêcher les oiseaux d’y
nicher, et, par conséquent, les enfants d’y aller.
[3] DESCRIPTION OF GILLIATT
Il n’était pas laid. Il était beau peut-être. Il avait dans le profil quelque chose d’un barbare antique. Au
repos, il ressemblait à un Dace de la colonne trajane. Son oreille était petite, délicate, sans lambeau, et
d’une admirable forme acoustique. Il avait entre les deux yeux cette fière ride verticale de l’homme hardi et
persévérant. Les deux coins de sa bouche tombaient, ce qui est amer ; son front était d’une courbe noble
et sereine ; sa prunelle franche regardait bien, quoique troublée par ce clignement que donne aux
pêcheurs la réverbération des vagues. Son rire était puéril et charmant. Pas de plus pur ivoire que ses
dents. Mais le hâle l’avait fait presque nègre. On ne se mêle pas impunément à l’océan, à la tempête et à
la nuit ; à trente ans, il en paraissait quarante-cinq. Il avait le sombre masque du vent et de la mer. On
l’avait surnommé Gilliatt le Malin.
[4] PRETTY GUERNSEY GIRLS
C’est un sang particulièrement attrayant que celui de Jersey et de Guernesey. Les femmes, les filles
surtout, sont d’une beauté fleurie et candide. C’est la blancheur saxonne et la fraîcheur normande
combinées. Des joues roses et des regards bleus. Il manque à ces regards l’étoile. L’éducation anglaise
les amortit. Ces yeux limpides seront irrésistibles le jour où la profondeur parisienne y apparaîtra. Paris,
heureusement, n’a pas encore fait son entrée dans les anglaises. Déruchette n’était pas une parisienne,
mais n’était pas non plus une guernesiaise. Elle était née à Saint-Pierre-Port, mais mess Lethierry l’avait
élevée. Il l’avait élevée pour être mignonne ; elle l’était.
[5] LA MOIE
Il existe sur la côte sud de Guernesey, en arrière de Plainmont, au fond d’une baie toute de précipices et
de murailles, coupée à pic dans le flot, un port singulier qu’un Français, séjournant dans l’île depuis 1855,
le même peut-être que celui qui écrit ces lignes, a baptisé « le Port au quatrième étage », nom
généralement adopté aujourd’hui. Ce port, qui s’appelait alors la Moie, est un plateau de roche, à demi
naturel, à demi taillé, élevé d’une quarantaine de pieds au-dessus du niveau de l’eau, et communiquant
avec les vagues par deux gros madriers parallèles en plan incliné. Les barques, hissées à force de bras
par des chaînes et des poulies, montent de la mer et y redescendent le long de ces madriers qui sont
comme deux rails. Pour les hommes il y a un escalier. Ce port était alors très fréquenté par les
contrebandiers. Étant peu praticable, il leur était commode.
[6] PLEINMONT
Plainmont, près Torteval, est un des trois angles de Guernesey. Il y a là, à l’extrémité du cap, une haute
croupe de gazon qui domine la mer. Ce sommet est désert. Il est d’autant plus désert qu’on y voit une
maison. Cette maison ajoute l’effroi à la solitude. Elle est, dit-on, visionnée. Hantée ou non, l’aspect en est
étrange. Cette maison, bâtie en granit et élevée d’un étage, est au milieu de l’herbe. Elle n’a rien d’une
ruine. Elle est parfaitement habitable. Les murs sont épais et le toit est solide. Pas une pierre ne manque
aux murailles, pas une tuile au toit. Une cheminée de brique contrebute l’angle du toit. Cette maison
tourne le dos à la mer. Sa façade du côté de l’océan n’est qu’une muraille. En examinant attentivement
cette façade, on y distingue une fenêtre, murée. Les deux pignons offrent trois lucarnes, une à l’est, deux à
l’ouest, murées toutes trois. La devanture qui fait face à la terre a seule une porte et des fenêtres. La porte
est murée. Les deux fenêtres du rez-de-chaussée sont murées. Au premier étage, et c’est là ce qui frappe
tout d’abord quand on approche, il y a deux fenêtres ouvertes ; mais les fenêtres murées sont moins
farouches que ces fenêtres ouvertes. Leur ouverture les fait noires en plein jour. Elles n’ont pas de vitres,
pas même de châssis. Elles s’ouvrent sur l’ombre du dedans. On dirait les trous vides de deux yeux
arrachés. Rien dans cette maison. On aperçoit par les croisées béantes le délabrement intérieur. Pas de
lambris, nulle boiserie, la pierre nue. On croit voir un sépulcre à fenêtre permettant aux spectres de
regarder dehors. Les pluies affouillent les fondations du côté de la mer. Quelques orties agitées par le vent
caressent le bas des murs. À l’horizon, aucune habitation humaine. Cette maison est une chose vide où il
y a le silence. Si l’on s’arrête pourtant et si l’on colle son oreille à la muraille, on y entend confusément par
instants des battements d’ailes effarouchées. Au-dessus de la porte murée, sur la pierre qui fait
l’architrave, sont gravées ces lettres : ELM-PBILG, et cette date : 1780. La nuit, la lune lugubre entre là.
Toute la mer est autour de cette maison. Sa situation est magnifique, et par conséquent sinistre. La beauté
du lieu devient une énigme. Pourquoi aucune famille humaine n’habite-t-elle ce logis ?