Looketh on the Heart

Yesterday I finished reading Victor Hugo’s novel Notre-Dame de Paris (Hunchback of Notre-Dame in English). The book is a tragedy and the characters with the most redeeming qualities all die in the end, including the famous Quasimodo who so bravely fought to protect Esmeralda. One of the themes could be summarized by these words of the Lord to Samuel: “Look not on his countenance, or on the height of his stature; because I have refused him: for the Lord seeth not as man seeth; for man looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart” (1 Samuel 16:7). Quasimodo was rejected by society because of his deformed appearance with his hunchback and single working eye and deaf ears, but his heart was of gold, and he showed more courage and love than any other character in the book. He fought desperately to defend Esmeralda in the church from the attacking crowd, singlehandedly holding off a group of dozens of people he thought were there to harm the innocent young woman. But then after his herculean efforts had finally paid off and help had arrived from the king’s army (which, he didn’t realize, were actually there trying to take her to the gallows), Quasimodo was shocked to find that in the midst of his valiant defenses, she had disappeared. Here is a description of what he did at this point: “When Quasimodo saw that the cell was empty, that the gypsy was no longer there, that while he had been defending her she had been abducted, he grasped his hair with both hands and stamped with surprise and pain; then he set out to run through the entire church seeking his Bohemian, howling strange cries to all the corners of the walls, strewing his red hair on the pavement…. When the fatigue of finding nothing had disheartened Tristan, who was not easily discouraged, Quasimodo continued the search alone. He made the tour of the church twenty times, length and breadth, up and down, ascending and descending, running, calling, shouting, peeping, rummaging, ransacking, thrusting his head into every hole, pushing a torch under every vault, despairing, mad.” Ultimately, he discovered that she had been captured and watched in horror from the heights of the cathedral as she was hung for a crime she never committed. The tragedy ends with him finding her resting place and letting himself die there with her. His devotion and love are a powerful witness that what matters most is what is in our heart: courage, fidelity, and love. And his faithful soul was in sharp contrast with several shallow characters who really cared only about themselves.

                Another scene highlights how seeing someone for who they truly are can change everything. The woman Sister Gudule was a mother whose young daughter had been stolen from her by a group of Romanians about fifteen years previously. She was still mourning the loss of that child and had a great hatred for that people. One of those she hated was Emeralda, and near the end of the novel Esmeralda was captured and handed to Sister Gudule to hold until the king’s army could come to take her. She at first expressed a deep hatred for Esmeralda, saying, “You were among them. She would be the same age as you! so!—I have been here fifteen years; fifteen years have I suffered; fifteen years have I prayed; fifteen years have I beat my head against these four walls—I tell you that ’twas the gypsies who stole her from me, do you hear that? and who ate her with their teeth.—Have you a heart? imagine a child playing, a child sucking; a child sleeping. It is so innocent a thing!—Well! that, that is what they took from me, what they killed. The good God knows it well! To-day, it is my turn; I am going to eat the gypsy.—Oh! I would bite you well, if the bars did not prevent me! My head is too large!—Poor little one! while she was asleep! And if they woke her up when they took her, in vain she might cry; I was not there!—Ah! gypsy mothers, you devoured my child! come see your own.” When Esmeralda begged for mercy, the mother mercilessly continued, “I had a child, they took my child. It was the gypsies. You see plainly that you must die. When your mother, the gypsy, comes to reclaim you, I shall say to her: ‘Mother, look at that gibbet!—Or, give me back my child. Do you know where she is, my little daughter? Stay! I will show you. Here is her shoe, all that is left me of her. Do you know where its mate is? If you know, tell me, and if it is only at the other end of the world, I will crawl to it on my knees.” She had an extreme hatred for Esmeralda until the young woman pulled out the other shoe—something she had been given to cherish until she found her mother. As soon as Sister Gudule realized that Esmeralda was actually her missing daughter, everything changed. She did all in her power to protect Esmeralda to the point of giving up her life near the gallows as she was thrown back onto the pavement. When she knew who Esmeralda really was, she was willing to sacrifice her life for someone she had been happily willing to let die just moments before. The story is a powerful reminder that when we really see others for who they are—children of God and our own brothers and sisters—everything changes.