Review: The Toilers of the Sea by Victor Hugo

The Toilers of the Sea [1866] – ★★★★1/2

A novel of quiet, unassuming and yet extraordinary beauty, as well as a moving tribute to the sea and its people.

“There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,/ There is a rapture on the lonely shore,/ There is society where none intrudes,/By the deep Sea, and music in its roar:/I love not Man the less, but Nature more…” (Lord Byron). Reading this almost forgotten novel by Victor Hugo reminded me of this verse by Lord Byron which celebrates the nature’s hold on man like no human society can match. In The Toilers of the Sea, Victor Hugo pays a beautiful tribute to the Channel Islands archipelago, where he spent some 15 years in exile. His story is set in Guernsey, the second largest island of the archipelago, and, there, a small, rather superstitious community prides itself on having businessman Mess Lethierry, a pillar of the society, his beautiful niece Déruchette and Lethierry’s steamship Durande. When one skilful, but disliked seaman Gilliatt falls in love with Déruchette, his love seems hopeless, but when ship Durande suffers an unprecedented trouble in waters, Gilliatt may finally have a glimmer of hope in winning Déruchette’s hand. This tale of a shipwreck and betrayals is Victor Hugo’s less dynamic novel, but where it lacks in narrative vigour, it certainly makes up for in awe-inspiring nature descriptions and memorable characters, instilling a sense of wonder for the Channel Islands and its inhabitants.

Victor Hugo’s fascination with the Channel Islands archipelago is contagious, and, in fact, the first part of the book is devoted solely to the description of the topography, history and customs of the region. It is the description that plays the leading role in the novel. As in Victor Hugo’s Notre-Dame de Paris, where the cathedral became a fully-fledged central character, in The Toilers of the Sea, it is Guernsey that now has this honour, its small sea-faring community, as well as ship Durande and the Douvres, perilous reefs. The region’s many mysteries, changing weather conditions and environmental peculiarities then “feed into” and merge with the characters’ emotions and states of mind. Just as Thomas Hardy would later set his novel The Woodlanders [1887] in one picturesque region of “Wessex” and would have his main character, woodman Giles Winterborne, attuned to his natural habitat, but also “battle” society for a chance at love and romance, Hugo also places his seaman Gilliatt at the centre of his “sea kingdom” that is coastal Guernsey and has him courting one innocent, pure and childlike girl, who would also later spy out a suitor of her own choosing, a newly appointed priest. The unlikely love triangle is then similar to that present in other Hardy’s works. The Woodlanders and Far From the Madding Crowd [1874] have this plot of one girl torn between a man attuned to the nature and the land, on the one hand, and one gentleman steeped in knowledge and all things intellectual or refined, on the other.

Gilliatt first catches Déruchette indirectly flirting with or teasing him on a snowy day, and when he realises he is in love, it is already too late – as usual. Déruchette is one beautiful and popular girl, quite unreachable for someone like Gilliatt, who is considered an odd and aloof outsider. It would take a series of hardships and coincidences befalling Lethierry’s household before Gilliatt is considered a potential suitor. In some sense, much like in Victor Hugo’s Notre Dame, Gilliatt is yet another “Quasimodo” to Déruchette, who takes the role of Esmeralda, but the notable priest of the story, Ebenezer Caudray, would play the more glamorous role of Captain Phoebus, rather than the darker one of Claude Frollo.

And, it is Victor Hugo’s willingness to use fairy-tale archetypes in his story that makes his characters so memorable – “the knight in shining armour” (Phoebus/ Caudray), “the local beauty” (Esmeralda/ Déruchette), “the authoritative chaperone” (Gringore/Lethierry), and “the sympathetic, but unlikely hero” (Quasimodo/Gilliatt). Notre-Dame may be more thought-provoking because the villainy in that story is presented as being more insidious, clad in the robes of morality, law and order, whereas in Toilers of the Sea, our villains are clearer and more stereotypical. However, we still have this intriguing scenario of one down-on-his-luck hero, who is unlikely to be successful in love, but who nonetheless discovers a surprising turn in his fortunes that may be key to bringing him closer to fulfilling his deepest desires.

It is this fusion by Victor Hugo of folklore or myths and societal or nature observations which makes his stories so enticing. Much like in Notre-Dame, The Toilers of the Sea is a tale of mismatched people circling each other and the appearances deceiving. A person’s physical presentation and even their well-established reputation may not correspond to the truth, and we find that to be the case regarding more than one character in the story. In the end, the showdown is the man’s battle with natural or seemingly-impossible-to-overcome forces to achieve the fulfilment of some personal wishes, which are not unrelated to societal success, too. In this regard, The Toilers of the Sea is also not that dissimilar to Jack London’s Martin Eden [1909], which also concerned one lonesome and misunderstood seaman who became infatuated with a girl way above his social class.

🚢 The Toilers of the Sea is a enchanting novel that awakens the senses and imparts visions – the sea air blowing from the east, the vast expanse of blue water, the wonder and danger of reefs, cruising ships bearing news and provisions, smugglers hiding in hidden caves, and one small local community gathering for a weekly gossip. The Toilers of the Sea is undoubtedly Victor Hugo’s “passion project” and as every “passion project” it may be a tad overwritten or a tad “untidy”, but as also every “passion project”, it is one made from the heart, and carrying a clear vision and conviction.