Les Misérables has many of the same qualities as Notre Dame de Paris, but it is a far more complex creation. As early as 1829, Hugo began to gather notes for a book that would tell the story of "a saint, a man, a woman, and a child," but over the years it became enriched by a throng of new characters and multiple accretions from Hugo's philosophy and experience. When it was finally published in 1862, it had attained, both in quality and quantity, an epic sweep.
In both thought and feeling, Les Misérables is far more profound than Notre Dame de Paris. In writing it, Hugo came to grips with the social problems of his own day, which demanded much reflection upon the nature of society and, therefore, upon the nature of man. In 1830, the average life expectancy of a French worker's child was two years. Hugo, unlike many of his contemporaries, did not consider this statistic as "inevitable" or "the fault of the parents," but evaluated it in human terms and cried out that suffering of such magnitude was intolerable and that such conditions must be changed through social action. What social action he considered desirable he shows us indirectly by portraying children who need to be fed, men who need jobs, and women who need protection; but also directly through M. Madeleine, who serves as an example of the ideal employer, and through the students of the 1832 revolt, who demand legislation that will make possible equal education, equal opportunity, and genuine brotherhood among men.
But to support this social action Hugo must be convinced, and convince others, that the poor, the outcast — the misérables — are worth saving: that even the most impudent, scruffy street gamin has something to contribute to society, that even the most hardened convict is capable of great good. And the most appealing and enduring quality of Les Misérables is the fact that it is permeated by this unquenchable belief in the spiritual possibilities of man.
