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P. 1662

CHAPTER II



         ROOTS






         Slang is the tongue of those who sit in darkness.
            Thought is moved in its most sombre depths, social phi-
         losophy is bidden to its most poignant meditations, in the
         presence of that enigmatic dialect at once so blighted and
         rebellious.  Therein  lies  chastisement  made  visible.  Every
         syllable has an air of being marked. The words of the vul-
         gar  tongue  appear  therein  wrinkled  and  shrivelled,  as  it
         were, beneath the hot iron of the executioner. Some seem
         to be still smoking. Such and such a phrase produces upon
         you the effect of the shoulder of a thief branded with the
         fleur-de-lys, which has suddenly been laid bare. Ideas al-
         most refuse to be expressed in these substantives which are
         fugitives from justice. Metaphor is sometimes so shameless,
         that one feels that it has worn the iron neck-fetter.
            Moreover, in spite of all this, and because of all this, this
         strange dialect has by rights, its own compartment in that
         great impartial case of pigeon-holes where there is room for
         the rusty farthing as well as for the gold medal, and which
         is called literature. Slang, whether the public admit the fact
         or not has its syntax and its poetry. It is a language. Yes, by

         1662                                  Les Miserables
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