I love Javert
Who is Javert? He is a police detective in Paris, France. For him, I did not fall in love at first sight, but authentically experienced a difficult process of love from hate.
The earliest contact with him was from the revolutionary era product "Les Misérables" villain book, brutal, vicious, unable to live with the poor, single-mindedly maintaining the dark autocracy, in my heart, he is much more evil than the traitors and Kuomintang agents I have heard of. This impression took root in the simple concept of good and evil that I had just germinated, and continued for more than a decade, until I had the opportunity to read Hugo's original book when I was in secondary school.
Javert's appearance is still the same old way that has solidified in my heart—fierce, blunt, ruthless, and the iron-like face has no expression. In Monte-Diego on the seafront, in the old house of Gorbo, on Wuren Street... He chased Valjean endlessly, almost had to put him to death and then quickly, it really made people itch their teeth, and they wanted to grab it and strangle him to death. But the master is the master, and Mr. Hugo does not simplify or face every character in the book, but writes it with rafters, and presents the inner soul of the characters layer by layer in front of people.
The first time my heart was touched should be said to be in the new industrial city of Montzyët on the seashore, when Valjean had become an upstart in the development of industry with wisdom and hard work, and the businessman and the good were transformed into the admired mayor of Madeland, while Javert was still a humble police officer. Unfortunately, however, the mayor's occasional act of kindness (rescuing the old man from under the car) made his old adversaries see the flaws and become suspicious. For Javert, who had an innate idea of worshipping the government, in the face of disparity in status and power, he had a fierce ideological struggle like ordinary people, but in the end, his duty and sense of mission overwhelmed the gains and losses, he began a secret reconnaissance of the mayor, and bravely confessed his "mistakes" to the mayor after mistakenly arresting Shang Madi. I read bravery from behind his cold figure, saw integrity, and a trace of admiration came over me.
In the days to come, wherever the protagonist hides, Javert appears there like a maggot with a bone, haunted by a ghost, and will send him to prison and then hurry. I often meditate: Did Javert have a vendetta against Jean Valjean? Is there hate? Is there any personal benefit to catching him? The answer is no. He did this not only to Jean Valjean, but to Denis, to Barber, to iron teeth, to the mouth of the sea... He treated all the wrongdoings and suspects that he thought were not tolerated by the law at that time, and he was duty-bound to stop them, fight, and bring them to justice. The only explanation is that he considers himself to be the embodiment of law and justice, that it is his sacred duty to stop crime and to fight criminals, and that his painstaking pursuit is nothing more than the performance of his duties. I have to admit that Javert is just and selfless.
I sincerely admire the master's laying, in the paris barricade defense battle, the conflict of events reached a dramatic climax, as the government spy Javert fell into the hands of Valjean, full of hope that he would die, but he was accidentally released by his opponents. It is reasonable to say that the grace of dripping water should be repaid by the spring, let alone the release of life? However, this unscrupulous creature took revenge and instead set his sights on Jean Valjean and insisted on sending him to prison. But when Jean Valjean, who thought that his affairs were over and was determined to go to prison to serve and reform, prepared to turn himself in, Javert inexplicably did not know where to hide. I scolded in my heart: Neurosis!
By the Seine, Javert finally presented himself naked to me. He was not as ruthless as I thought, and he also had his soul and conscience under the deeply buried ice, which were ignited in the light of the sublime humanity of Valjean. Although his appearance was still as calm as ever, cold without a single expression, I could feel that his soul was experiencing the strongest shock in his life.
He had always regarded himself as the embodiment of justice, and had never doubted the sanctity of the cause he had engaged in in promoting good and punishing evil, but the dark social reality of slandering good and forcing good into prostitution ruthlessly shattered his ideals, and he was confused and lost himself in the face of the facts of Jean Valjean. In the fierce confrontation between love and law, good and evil, conscience and duty, human nature prevailed, "and in the darkness horribly raised a strange moral sun." Humanity was resurrected, ideals were shattered, and he was utterly discouraged, and even lost the courage to live.
At this time, I stood so close to him that I could feel his deep breathing. Through his calm appearance, I could see his sincere love for the cause he had worked for all his life, and in the hastily desperate book, he began by writing: "For the sake of work, there are a few points to draw attention to:..." Throughout the text, without a single personal demand or complaint to society, he chattered about ten suggestions and specific measures to improve policing. How nostalgic he is for his career! However, due to the inability of the individual to change this upside-down world, unable to escape the trap of loyalty to his conscience and betraying society, he could only bravely and cowardly choose the path of martyrdom.
With a "whoosh" sound, Javert's huge body fell into the water, stirring up a large wave, and then returned to calm, silent. My tears welled up and ran down my cheeks. I felt the pain of loss unforgettable, and I couldn't help but cry out to this relentlessly flowing river: Javert, I love you!