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This is an EXACT reproduction of a book published before 1923. This IS NOT an OCR'd book with strange characters, introduced typographical errors, and jumbled words.This book may have occasional imperfections such as missing or blurred pages, poor pictures, errant marks, etc. that were either part of the original artifact, or were introduced by the scanning process. We believe this work is culturally important, and despite the imperfections, have elected to bring it back into print as part of our continuing commitment to the preservation of printed works worldwide. We appreciate your understanding of the imperfections in the preservation process, and hope you enjoy this valuable book. ... Read more Customer Reviews (24) 
Hugo's Best Work
At the risk of sounding overly enthusiastic, I found Hugo's "Toilers of the Sea" to be one of the two best books I've ever read. The writing is well beyond "The Hunchback of Notre Dame," and the whole of the work is focused tightly (less the descriptive excursus of the Channel Islands at the beginning). I would think Hugo, however, would appeal only to those open enough for his style, which is not shy. ("In our world, beauty is a necessity.") It may also be that Hugo demands of his reader something more than mere passive reading. To read Hugo is to question, to admire, to feel humble, bold, and, in short, take part in a Something which is more than mere fiction, more than words.
Overlooked Greatness
Victor Hugo's Les Miserables and The Hunchback of Notre Dame are two of the most famous books ever, but his other novels are obscure in English. The Toilers of the Sea is probably his next best known, and though less great than those immortal works, is another masterpiece. Enough of their greatness is present to ensure that anyone who likes them will like it, but it also differs in many ways, meaning those not usually keen on Hugo may enjoy it.
Toilers is certainly not the easiest book to get into. As always with Hugo, there is an incredible amount of exposition; he diametrically opposes present day fiction's cardinal "Show; don't tell!" rule. It must be remembered that photographs were rare, television did not exist, and mass media was unthinkable; readers relied on description to set the scene. Nothing could be taken for granted. This is a large part of the reason that novels through the early twentieth century are so much longer than today's. However, Hugo took this particularly far; he could hardly mention anything - location, person, idea, etc. - without giving a mini essay, or even a full one, about its features, history, and significance and seems addicted to lists. Nineteenth century readers appreciated or even liked this, but it is so different from today's fiction that many will be unable to get past it. This is particularly so in that Hugo makes no attempt to insert them seamlessly; an action scene may be interrupted with twelve or so pages of description. Hugo often seems to forget he is writing a novel, and one can even legitimately call his novels about half non-fiction; some may well forget where the story left off. Toilers has an even higher percentage of this than usual; a fifty page essay about every aspect of the Channel Islands indeed introduces it, and the first fifty or so pages of the story are deep background. As someone who thinks Les Miserables the greatest novel and Hugo the greatest novelist, I admit this is very hard going; I would have given up if it had been almost anyone else. However, I am very glad I did not; as with Les, I would not have cut one word by the end. Hugo masterfully ties it all together, making what seemed superfluous or even perverse in the plot seem inevitable, while the background makes the setting far richer and more believable. Anyone struggling with section one can skip it without significant loss, and most non-narrative sections can be passed over or skimmed without losing the plot. That said, those who do so will miss astonishing detail that makes the book so much deeper, not to mention the writing's sheer brilliance. Even those who think Hugo dreadfully digressive cannot deny the greatness of such passages in themselves; his knowledge's sheer breadth is incredible and his style nearly unmatched. I thus strongly encourage those struggling with Toilers to persevere, even if they find it necessary to skim or get an abridged edition; Hugo at least renders this easy by making non-narrative sections their own chapter and using short chapters generally.
Surprisingly, perhaps even paradoxically, Toilers also has a great amount of high adventure. No one beats Hugo for action when he finally gets down to it; no current thriller writer even approaches him for suspense and excitement. We do not expect such things from nineteenth century works, but Hugo is still supremely entertaining. I guarantee that, hard as it first is to believe, Toilers is almost impossible to put down at several points. Without spoiling anything, suffice it to say that I have read hundreds or thousands of books of all sorts, and this has some of the most exciting scenes. It would be well worth reading for this alone out of sheer escapism.
Of course, as always with Hugo, there is far more. Perhaps most obviously, the characters are wonderfully done. Gilliatt is grand, in some ways reminiscent of Les' immortal Jean Valjean but with many excellent qualities of his own, and Clubin is one of literature's more subtle and memorable villains. The cast is not as large or diverse as other Hugo works', but minor characters are also well-done. Hugo's place evocation is also hardly to be equaled. He dedicates Toilers to the Isle of Guernsey, where he lived in exile, and Toilers overflows with his love of the Channel Islands and surrounding area. His lush descriptions are unforgettable, making an area utterly foreign to nearly everyone seem very real. We can learn a great amount about them, as well as many other things; Hugo was far more than a novelist, and it is impossible not to appreciate and be enlightened by the great amount and variety of information. Only a novelist who was also a poet could write as beautifully as he does, but he goes well beyond what anyone could have expected to include significant amounts of geography, oceanography, sociology, anthropology, linguistics, philosophy, psychology, theology, history, engineering, architecture, biology, meteorology, physics, chemistry, and seemingly everything else. The wealth of data is daunting, and no current reader will get all the contemporary and historical references; anyone wanting to really follow Hugo will need a dictionary and extensive Googling. However, one can get the gist easily enough, and Hugo's detail has an advantage that he likely did not foresee - it lets twenty-first century readers make sense of the book and its world, which would have been impossible otherwise without extensive notes.
This would of course not be a Hugo novel without a healthy dose of weighty themes, and Toilers has more of them than most books despite avoiding his usually overt social/political/theological framework. His main intent was to show Nature's immensity and humanity's difficulty in combating it, which the book does brilliantly; indeed, very few works approach its handling of this common theme. Toilers is also a towering testament to human endurance and vividly shows the harmful effects of poverty, xenophobia, class conflict, and capitalism; it is also an unforgettable portrayal of love's dark side.
All told, though less ambitious and transcendentally great than Hugo's best-known novels, Toilers is an epic of eternal greatness that would be nearly anyone else's masterpiece. It is a must for anyone interested in great literature.
Not Hugo's best
This book is basically a homage to Bretagne, where Hugo lived in refuge for some time. The book overflows with vivid imagery of this section of the world. Unfortunately, the plot sort of suffers as it goes by the wayside at times, at least in comparison with other Hugo novels. There's a love story sort-of, the characters are halfway thought up, not terribly interesting...I'd only recommend it if you've already read Les Miserables, Notre Dame, and 93, or if you are particularly interested in Bretagne. That said, anything by Hugo is quality and his worst is better than the best of many others.
Victor Hugo lovers rejoice once again! A joy to read!
As a long lover of Victor Hugo's works, I came across Toilers of the Sea only by accident, looking for anything I hadn't read by my favorite author. Toilers of the Sea is a deeply engrosing, sometimes wordy (yes, Mr. Hugo can go on a bit!) moody and often dark (what on earth was he thinking?!) novel about a reclusive fisherman on Jersey- no Guernsey island in the 18th or 19th century. Hugo painstakingly describes his beloved islands while painting the picture of the secret love this reclusive fisherman has for a beautiful young girl. What this fisherman goes through to profess his love and win the hand of his beloved is herculean indeed. What he wins for his efforts is astonishing. If you love Hugo you will love this one. A wordsmith genius and writer extraordinaire, Toilers of the Sea is a brilliant novel, spine tingling, humorous and yes, heartbreaking.
Magnifique!
This powerful story was my first encounter with Hugo's work; since then I've read The Hunchback, Les Miserables and The Man who Laughs, and--with the slight exception of the Hunchback--enjoyed each one immensely.
Initially, it was a struggle. Hugo expatiates on channel island life, its history, geography, and customs, in a relentless manner, piling on detail after extraneous detail without any direct connection to the story. Some editions have actually left this part out (which openswith the ominous,"The Atlantic wears away our coasts") and instead begin with "Sieur Clubin" (like other works by Hugo, the books in the novel are eponoumously titled) where the readers are quickly immersed into a standard narration with characters shuffling into play.
I do think it's worthwhile to read these roughly fifty or so pages that comprise the Channel Islands section on the book. It's classic Hugo overload and prepare the palette so to speak for a novel whose tangents can expand from simple declarative sentence to entire chapter according to Hugo's whim. However massive, these whims are beautifully tempered by sudden twists and plot machinations that are quite effective at actuating the plot.
When Hugo officially starts the story, (this is where some editions begin) "The Christmas of 18-- was a memorable day...", it is in such a straightforward manner that it may slightly perplex the reader because it doesn't quite justify any of the build-up that directly precedes it, not right away at least. Dickens is often derided by modern critics for his extended page opener or superfluous chapter but his vagaries aren't nearly as long or plodding as Hugo's. Dickens certainly padded his work, whereas Hugo is almost sacrifices his novels in favor of discursive obsessions. In fact Dickens was paid by installment, not by word, as has been so erroneously promulgated and his contracts typically stipulated 20 installments, each monthly, so most of his stories are roughly 600-700 pages based on a standard installment size of 30 pages. If Dickens is prolix it is in the inclusion of an atmospheric chapter or supporting story-line, not on the word for word level--don't get me wrong though, his sentences are by no means terse. Hugo is perhaps more forceful in his digressive tendencies.
Yet, in the end, it's these tedious tangents that make a memorable reading experience and somehow or other Hugo constructs a brilliant edifice that's both craggy and surprisingly solid possessing a vitality all its own.
All Hugo's stories, not just Toilers, are peopled with engaging characters; even the villains like Sieur Clubin are genuine and endear themselves to the reader as much as if not more than the hero-protagonists. Some reviewers have criticized the female characters in his works. I understand that complaint from a modern, feminist point of view; but, if the male characters crowd center stage they don't do so in a necessarily complicated they do apologetically fill center stage and that's probably the where these misgivings arise. Let's not also forget that Hugo is French and--please forgive the generalization--the French are delightfully chauvinistic.
A frequent hallmark of Hugo's style is the preposterous or profane assertion--the short simple thesis, if you will--followed by another, sometimes supporting sometimes not, essentially building upon an idea, perhaps more than the first, then another is followed by another until the last sentence where everything is tied together with a bold closing line that is usually ironic or sometime solemn gravitas. It is a poetic, vaguely Baudelairian pith. When overused it hovers dangerously close to shtick, but you don't need to take the content too seriously. Go with the flow you'll gain an appreciation for the subversive, individualist thinker that Hugo is despite what amounts at times to sententious logorrhea. Here are some examples of what I'm referring to:
"To lie is to suffer. A hypocrite is a sufferer in every sense of the word; he plans a triumph but endures continual punishment...."
-and
"The human eye is so constructed that it can express force of character. A single glance of the eye reveals the quantity of manhood we possess. We assert ourselves through the intelligence that sparkles beneath the eyebrows. Little consciences pass through..."
What's there to say about the ending? A fitting solution to the story? A disturbing one, very similar to the conclusion of The Man who Laughs, without the Romeo and Juliet symmetry of course; orJean Valjean's lugubrious self-imposed isolation from Cosette and Marius at the end of Les Miserables. Gilliatt's demise is a singular and extraordinary act of self-negation every bit as bizarre, horrific and mesmerizing as rescuing a crotch-wedged steam engine from its jammed nesting place. In fact I feel the will power to drown himself shows a sublimation somewhat fitting for the character.
Speaking more of Gillant, an incredible character, like Hugo himself both massively vain and completely selfless, full of ingenuity and life-force. If this creature does not touch you on some level nothing will. These types (the Valjeans, the Quasimodos, the Gillants...) are a throwback to fairy tale giants or
modern superhero comics who enchant readers with their uncanny mental and physical prowess. In fact Jean Valjean's antics with the runaway cart or Quisomodo's terrific facade-scaling are proof of this.
I strongly recommend this book to people who love the aura and mystery of the ocean, or specifically, the seaside. Something like Moby Dick is all about the ocean itself, whereas this is undeniably the littoral milieu. I hope that one day I can visit the channel islands and see some of the things described in this novel, perhaps visit Hauteville House, the place Hugo wrote this book. Anyone interested in the channel islands might also like Carette of Sark by John Oxham. Not nearly as good, but a story that takes place in the same location and like Toilers, a wondrous peculiarity.
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BEWARE!!!!