Citation Needed - Victor Hugo
Episode Date: August 31, 2022Victor-Marie Hugo (26 February 1802 – 22 May 1885) was a French Romantic writer and politician. During a literary career that spanned more than sixty years, he wrote in a variety of genres and f...orms. He is considered to be one of the greatest French writers of all time. Our theme song was written and performed by Anna Bosnick. If you’d like to support the show on a per episode basis, you can find our Patreon page here. Be sure to check our website for more details.
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Okay, but then I'll be like he's cell phone is absolutely not no nope. Oh, hey guys. What's up?
I'm getting the audience ready for the September bonus episode
Wait, what the audience gets a bonus? Yeah a whole episode just for the patrons this month
We'll be reading and commenting on the one and only
Kumite article from black belt magazine. Whoa! The one about Frank Doode.
That's the one.
But, but they need more.
So I'm gonna give him Heath's home address too.
No, no, none of that.
Look, look, Eli, for as little as a dollar,
our patrons get an episode all for themselves
and it's got Frank Doode's crazy bullshit lies in it.
That's gotta be more than enough.
They don't need a Heath's number.
That's true, that's true. And they get all of that at patreon.com forward slash
citation pod. Yeah, that's right. Fine. What about his height and weight? tomorrow come
once
huh
guys that was
something but thank you can't keep any of that in the podcast turns out that was
that was our before show she's amazing we built a barricade see so we did everything
I know you did heath I know you did. Keith, I know you did, but Les Mizz is copyrighted.
You can't just perform a Broadway musical
on our podcast, can't do it.
What about the part with Mandy Patinkin?
Nope, can you say either.
We flew him in on a plane.
I'm so excited.
Well, I know you did.
But we're, guys, but we're we're podcast there's contracts you gotta sign
you gotta pay people with the pay and over time and we at least consider
keeping the hologram gary colman is gevrush
i'll speak to his estate
what seriously this is the worst Hello and welcome, citation needed.
Podcast where we choose a subject, read a single article about it on Wikipedia and pretend
we're experts.
Because this is the internet, that's how it works now.
I'm Heath, and I'm joined by three authors known for two or less books just like
Dr. Hugo and he's seen me a lot.
Ah, jokes on you, Heath.
Nobody really knows about our books.
Oh, it's the grand Unified Theory of Bullshit, though.
Available everywhere, find books or sold.
Admittedly, between the two of these guys,
there's a lot of unread poetry, too.
So a lot of unread poetry.
So, question.
Are we allowed to use our mommy's literary?
No, no, because if you know, I'm crushing it.
And we're not.
We're even at Hopkins Award. Sorry, what was the name of the award?
You've never said that before.
And Hopkins award, maybe you've got it.
That was your mom's got that.
So, Tom, what person plays thing concept phenomenon or event?
Are we going to be talking about today?
Today, we are going to be talking about Victor Hugo.
I thought you were going to say the lead bet.
Today, we're going to going to say the lead bet. Today we're going to talk about the lead bet at Hopkins award.
Prestigious.
Part one.
All right.
Victor Hugo.
And are you ready to start the show like more than we already clearly have?
Yeah, I am if only get Eli to stop singing Castle on a cloud.
No deal.
All right.
So why Victor Hugo? All right. So I'm going to talk about
Victor Hugo and he is an absolutely fascinating character in every way. But I just want to
be clear that I cannot possibly do his story justice in any real way in this short space
of this show. So having said that, I want you to rest assured that while I will certainly forget
to include some really important shit,
and I will unintentionally omit
other really important shit in the interest
of some attempt at brevity,
please know that I only picked this topic
because for all the important work of Victor Hugo,
I am mostly actually telling the story
because he was a huge horn dog
and everyone needs to know about it.
And some element of that horn dog in this is actually built right into the Victor Hugo origin story actually.
On the summit of France's Montdenon, there is a plaque commemorating the place out in the open with breathtaking views of the borders of France, Germany and Switzerland
where Victor's parents
conceived him
There's a plaque. That's awesome. Imagine for a moment being so fucking famous that there is a plaque
Not just for where you were born, but for where your parents fucked outside that one time
I'm glad this is in a common practice
because the sign would give away
why grandma's couch is covered in plastic, man.
Yikes.
He's mom's house would end up just covered in plastic.
It was like it was wild outside.
Wow.
In various, my parents seriously,
I'd have like friends over at the house as a kid.
My parents would walk in and be like, we just fuck.
Oh Jesus!
What?
So messed up.
I don't know if they were outside or inside, it doesn't matter.
It's not really the point for your kids.
Do they carry plaques with them just in case?
They made, they made, he'd sign it.
The puzzle of he really fits together here over on site.
This is a lot of questions are coming together right now
That was a sculptor he could have made himself plaques every time I don't know
It wasn't pleasant. Fuck plaques.
So those outdoor fucking parents. If you're like your fuck plaque from side-dation needed
We're in the middle of a record, but I really want to stop listening and buy fuck black
stuff.
Right now.
Just know whenever I'm late on a joke, it's because I'm trying to quietly buy fuck black
stuff.
I'm a man.
I'm a computer.
I tell those outdoor fucking parents were Joseph Leopold Hugo and Sophie Trebuchet,
awesome name, which is her real name, and that is awesome.
Yes, it is.
A Joseph was a general in the Napoleonic army rising to that position after having enlisted
in the army of revolutionary France at the age of 14, a fact I find personally incredible
after having spent a sizable amount of my weekend cleaning up after a sleepover with four teenage boys. None of whom I would give a bayonet musket, even a
particularly sturdy shovel. I still think it's weird you invited those teenage boys over,
Tom. I know. I just. Okay. They didn't want to watch movies with me. They could have turned
down the invitation. Eli.
Joseph stat. We're on a list.
Now,
it was also
Oh, now now we're on a list.
See some.
Yeah, that's what did it.
A Joseph stat, interestingly, was also an open atheist, which in France, in the early 1800s,
is only slightly less common than not being Southern Baptist in Alabama.
While Sophie was a Protestant.
Mom and dad also didn't share
the same political beliefs as one another
with Joseph supporting the Republic
and Sophie loyal to the monarchs.
Her husband's army had helped depose.
Okay, very Sam and Diane, actually get it.
I feel like I
improves the sex, right? Just arguing about hating the other
person's politics does improve sex in my very brief experience.
Generally, being a general involved rather a lot of moving. And
since that sucks and fucking at the top of a mountain can only
sustain a relationship without any common values for so long.
Titian needed Tom.
Sophie soon separated from Joseph and began banging Victor's godfather.
Soon enough, however, Joseph returned with a very fancy title, and the family reunited
long enough to learn that Joseph was also getting his Rocky Mountain rocks off, living with an English woman named Catherine Thomas.
So things seem tense.
Yeah, they bump into each other accidentally at raw dog point or whatever.
So weird.
So question is that a deep situation or a nobody uses it situation?
A tricky question.
But again, this was the very beginning of the 19th century in France.
So if you were a general, this is basically your tax season, and you were busy just all
the time.
Joseph was called up pretty immediately to fight Spain in the peninsula war, which I had
never heard of before and did not look up.
Naturally, Sophie moved to Paris where, and I love this because this is all the detail
there is here.
The family moved to a mansion
in an isolated area off the sun.
When they moved into the mansion,
there was a chapel on the property.
And naturally, if you are maybe living
in a hearty boys' novel,
there was a wanted fugitive living in that chapel.
This fugitive who had evidently avoided being caught by avoiding
henhouses, outhouses and dog houses.
Sure. Smart. Smart. Yeah.
Had been condemned to death for plotting to restore the bourbons to power.
Wiki then has this line and never mentions this again.
Quote, he became a mentor to Victor and his brothers, and, quote,
mentor how and in what way and why was mom cool with this weird, weird friendship?
None of that worth a mention, I guess. Okay, kids, one more Giyatin Montage, and
I'm sure his mother had great expectations of the relationship. Oh, oh, oh, the old book joke everybody crushed it. Oh
You know, you know, we get that joke leave an it Hopkins award winner
Rosenberg
My mom
Is he are an 1811 the family moved to Spain to be nearer to
The war dad was fighting I guess, but it must have been okay because they're a victim into school in Madrid
It's got a sock to commute to war. You know what I mean? It's really it's got you got to put all your spears in the car
Hang it out the top off line takes forever. There's an armistice. Oh, time to get in there.
A Sophie having had enough of Joseph left Victor and his brothers with military dad.
And she just fucked off back to Paris to get away from her marriage and go back to banging Victor's
godfather. Bummer situation for Sophie though, because that guy was arrested and executed the next year.
And Victor and his brothers were then shipped from Madrid to a boarding school in Paris
so the dad could concentrate on being at fucking war.
So pretty much the standard childhood picket fences kind of stay.
At this point, treason was right up there was smoking and heart disease and cause of death.
Oh, an 1816 while at boarding school, Victor wrote his first poem for publication.
The poem was so good that he won an honorable mention in a contest organized by the Academy
François.
But the Academy refused to believe his age when they discovered the poem had been written
by a 15-year-old.
But it was, suck it, Academy.
The next year, Victor left boarding school to live in his mom's basement and go to law
school, and he also got secret engaged to his childhood friend, Adele Fosher.
Victor had to hide the engagement because mom didn't approve of the match.
Sophia died in June of 1821, and Victor's dad celebrated by marrying that English woman
he's missing within a month of hearing the news.
Victor mourned his mother's passing by also getting married.
I thought they didn't believe it was 15.
You got a lot of the French.
15 is too young to write good poetry, but if you were in the army, you'd like already
be a colonel or something.
All right, now I'm picturing my toddler in a little admiral costume and it's adorable.
In 1819, Victor and his brothers began publishing a periodical together and Victor
published his first novel in 1823, his second in 1826. Neither of them you or I have read.
his second in 1826. Neither of them you or I have read. Then Hugo realized that poets in the 1800s got laid a lot, and poems are easier to write
the novels, so he published five volumes of poetry from 1829 to 1840.
And to be fair, Hugo was an extremely accomplished poet.
Lohbar. His first collection of poems that he wrote when he was only 20 earned him a royal pension
from Louis XIII.
Now in contrast, the poems I wrote when I was 20 are so terribly embarrassing that if I
had a time machine, I would break my own fingers to stop myself from writing.
Okay, yeah, I gave a poem to a girlfriend when I was 22.
The response was, nope, nope thank you.
No, thank you.
And did it right back, did not look.
Yeah, you're reading it.
Yeah, I said, they should needed the podcast.
It's basically an extremely complicated ARG
for he's to therapist.
He's, he's was like one of those kids on the L
that gives you a CD and expects you
to pay for.
Fun, yeah, I was dating the person who was like, nope, he yikes.
You know, am I CD?
We've been together for that.
Oh, no.
Okay.
No, I, I never carry my, I mean.
And 1829, Hugo wrote his first really significant work of fiction with the last day of a condemned
man.
The damn thing was so influential, it would have a noted impact on such lightweights as
Camu Dickens and Dostoevsky.
Hugo in 1829, 1830, wrote two plays, Cromwell and Hernani, which pretty much began the French Romanticism movement.
I do not want to pretend I fully understand the true historic impact of this,
but it would be hard to misunderestimate him, impact his work.
Okay.
Okay. Overestimate Mr. Bush, which is it?
I don't understand what you're saying.
When Hernani was performed at the comedy fron say traditionalists and romantics actually
rioted for several fucking days as they clashed over Hugo's bold disregard for neoclassical
conventions in his writing. Oh, now if this is confusing to who modern audience think about an analog. So when the San Francisco giants defeated the Kansas City Royals in 2014 and fans rioted,
this was like that, but about something.
No, no, it sounds exactly like they were riding over nothing to do.
Okay, but there is nothing more French than disregard for neoclassical theater
conventions turning it to an orgy. I'm just like a heart dude, you're apparently, and I was not according to Aristotelian principles.
Fuck, this is, was this three acts instead of five?
No fucking, they're a similar to murder.
That's insane.
I even know what the maids are thinking.
Three drominerds are loving the last 10 seconds
of this podcast. They're drinking it in.
They're rewinding right now.
They're hitting skip back 30 seconds.
They're battling into brandy sniffters.
Look at it.
They're unemployment checks.
They don't get checks.
In 1831 Hugo wrote the hunchback of Notre Dame, paving the way for the creepiest Disney movie
No One Remembers, and also instantly causing a sensation. In fact, if you've ever seen
the actual cathedral of Notre Dame, or in fact any of the pre-Renissante architecture of France,
fact any of the pre-Renossant's architecture of France, it is because of Victor Hugo. The popularity of this novel shamed the city of Paris into restoring the cathedral after
throngs of tourists descended on the Ram Shackle Cathedral after reading Hugo's novel.
Now, Hugo is, of course, most well known for Le Miserable, by far his most ambitious, influential,
and most widely known work.
And Hugo knew this was true when he was writing Le Miserable.
This 1500 page novel, which was a sweeping polemic on social injustice and poverty, took
17 years to be fully realized, and Hugo knew what he had was fucking
gold. In a letter to his publisher in 1862, Hugo wrote, quote, my conviction is that this
book is going to be one of the peaks, if not the crowning point of my work. And quote,
and even though the book about misery and injustice centers itself on issues
of poverty, Hugo wasn't giving that crown away cheap.
In fact, he insisted that he sell, lame, miserob for quote, more than had ever been paid for
a book.
And quote, all right.
By the way, here you go.
Eight dollars.
Fuck.
Okay.
No, I'm the author.
Just give me one.
No, he got the money.
For Les Miserables, Hugo was paid the absolutely unbelievable sum of 300,000 francs.
This was enough money, too, according to the Paris Review, quote, start a small railway
or endow a chair at the Sarbonne.
And that 300,000 francs only actually bought the rights
to lay Miss Arab for eight years.
This was until very recently by many estimates,
the most lucrative book deal in history.
And a podcast listener, if you wanna be depressed,
the book deal in majority that beat that record that I could find is James Patterson's deal
with Hatchet to write 17 books.
What kind?
For who?
About what?
Doesn't matter.
Just 17 books, please.
For $150 million.
Wow.
Well, this deal was a huge gamble.
We will talk about this in a bit,
but Hugo at this time was a political exile.
The publisher was a relatively small time Belgian outfit
and the logistics were a fucking nightmare.
The emperor, being the one who had exiled Hugo,
was not overly keen on the book being published,
but the money was spent and all the right dominoes had lined themselves up.
The first international copyright treaty had just been signed, which made it much less terrifying
for a Belgian publisher to market and sell a French novel. The steam-powered printing press made producing cheap copies
of the monster-tome, even possible, and inexpensive paper had recently become mass-produced.
A sale this size of a book this enormous on a scale like this wouldn't have even been physically possible just a few years before.
To make matters worse, the book was, of course, handwritten with a literal quill, and again,
Hugo was living in exile.
So every revision and proof had to be traded back and forth between the publisher and Hugo and it had to be messaged by ship.
There's storms and weather and all that shit to be read and rewritten and returned.
Wow.
The first draft came back 900 pages crossed out.
She's like, all right, steam press not ready yet.
So this part is now yada yada yada.
Fucking thief dies.
They sing on a pile of chairs.
Yeah, there you go.
It's a musical now too, by the way, we made it musical.
So then all these pages had to be typeset for mass production.
And this all had to be done in secret because again, the emperor of France absolutely hated
that this was happening.
And to make this insane gamble work, the Belgian publisher had to have a secret sublet with a French publisher.
And the whole thing had to be perfectly hush hush while at the same time they plastered
every wall in and around Paris with a what is the matrix style ad campaign?
Not a single advanced copy was created, sent, or leaked.
Yeah, I mean, sure, if today's pirates had to hand at every stolen DVD of the tooth fairy,
starring Dwayne the Rock Bunsen, it'd be less of those lying around too.
Lame is around, launched on April 4th, 1862, and it was actually the first ever truly international book launch.
The book became available all at once in Brussels, Paris, London, St. Petersburg, and cities
across Europe.
Six thousand copies were sold on day one in Paris alone, though the book had to be broken up into parts because
it was again, just too physically large to sell it in one piece.
When the second installment became available, people in Paris brought carts and wheelbarrows
to buy as many copies as they could carry.
Black market literature guy selling it in an alley nearby by the page.
Just. Black market literature guy selling it in an alley nearby by the page. Just Lucy's loose leafies.
The critics, by the way, fucking hated laymins.
And I have to quote here how unbelievably bitchy they were about it.
Baudelaire thought it vulgar, repulsive, and inept.
Alexander Dumas wrote that reading the novel was like, quote,
waiting through mud, end quote.
Well, Flobar was even less kind, calling it, quote,
a book written for Catholicos Socialist shittance
and for the philosophical evangelical rap pack.
And quote, I have no earthly idea what that means.
Okay. It probably means nobody was buying wheelbarrow loads of their work.
Ha, Hugo went on to write some other stuff such as toilers of the sea in 93, but let's
be honest, none of us have heard of that shit. All right, let's be even more honest.
If Hugo was alive right now, he'd be at Comic Con explaining Angerly.
No, no, that's from the song.
That's, I didn't write on my own.
Don't sing the song.
I'm French, that's English.
What are you talking about?
But according to Tom, Hugo does fuck a bunch, so that's gonna be fun.
First, I'm gonna take a quick break, there's some opera pull of nothing. You wanted to see me, sir?
Hi, Javier.
Come in and just have a seat.
How many help you, sir?
Oh, great.
Okay.
It's about your priorities.
So, you know, you're a guard here at this French prison thing and you're like, pretty
good one.
But the thing is,
sir, I do my duty, nothing more.
Okay, okay, weird thing to tell your boss
that you're like an underachiever.
Anyway, some of the other guards have mentioned
that you've been like looking for a prisoner
that escaped 30 years ago, man.
Two, four, six, oh, one.
Sure.
Okay, whatever.
My point is we do not have a budget for that.
Like there is in no way shape or form your job to go hunt a prisoner that escaped 30 years
ago.
It is my duty.
No, it's not your duty.
Stop. Your duty was's not your duty. Stop.
Your duty was to not let him escape.
Obviously you fuck that up.
Now, it's been 30 years, so we're good.
So you could just be like a regular prison guard
and stop looking for 2, 6, 6, 1.
2, 4, 6, 1.
Oh my God.
Oh my God.
Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. 6-6-1, 2-4-6-1 And nobody cares, man, nobody cares! [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪
Hi, I'm Eli Bosnick, and I'm Cecil, something Italian.
And we'd like to sell you things.
Not in person, here, on the podcast with ads.
I mean, maybe in person.
Never say never say that.
Which is why we'd really appreciate
if you took a second ahead over to citationpod.com slash survey
and tell us a little bit about yourself.
You'd be helping bring advertising to our show and it takes less than a minute to do.
But that's not all. You'll be helping answer vital questions we ask on this show like
are the atrustkins boring or cool? How do the hosts rank in physical attractiveness
and whether Cecil and I should take a motorcycle trip across the nation together?
Nope, nope, nope, nope, nope, nope, nope, you will not be answering that.
This is just the ad thing. You will if I can guess Cecil's password again. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, and we're back.
When we left off, Victor Hugo was,
the James Patterson of 1862, what's next time?
Yikes, yikes.
Now that we've established Hugo's street cred as a writer,
we've got to also talk about his personal and political life.
For a touch of context on this next part,
you have to realize that there
was a time in history, definitely not now, but definitely France in the 19th century,
when being influential for creating meaningful works of art mattered. Not just because it came
with a crazy amount of commercial success, but because there really was a time when serious people
try to find other serious people and then build a world based on ideas, rather than on
who can win a Bella coast three sentence maximum screaming contest held in a literal void.
Boom nerd, I've ever make a drill.
This will feel really out of place.
So just try to keep some of that. I'm sorry. I'm having
trouble relating Tom was the emperor tweeting Hugo or just like referring to him in tweets and
everybody knew it. I'll kill you. I will kill you in 1841, 12 years before publishing
Liam is a rob, but after his success with hunchback and a bunch of poems, Hugo was finally admitted
to the Academy François.
I say finally because the pissing match between traditionalists and the French romantics
that motivated those riots from earlier also meant Hugo was cock-blocked from the Academy
for a while.
And entering the Academy, that was a big deal because this also made Hugo politically
relevant.
By 1845, he had entered the upper chamber.
Was there like a commemorative plaque where he entered the upper chamber?
Maybe a lower back, too.
A Hugo was.
Seriously, if I'd fucked Victor Hugo, I'd have a lower, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, social injustice in favor of the freedom of the press and in favor of the right of Poland
to self-govern itself.
These were not universally popular ideas at the time, as you might imagine, but Hugo
doubled down on not being the worst by calling for universal suffrage in 1849, which was
71 years before the U.S. ratified the 19th Amendment. By the way, Hugo also advocated
for free education for children, a concept that was as unbelievably radical in 19th century
France as it is now in the Santa's Florida.
Yeah, if the guy who wrote the hunchback of Notre Dame is woker than you? That's a lot about your politics.
A 1851 Napoleon seized power, dissolved the parliament, and declared himself emperor.
Hugo publicly declared Napoleon a traitor, which meant he had to get the fuck out of France
since Napoleon didn't share his enlightened views opposing the death penalty,
Hugo fled to Brussels, then to Jersey.
He was then exiled from Jersey for supporting a newspaper that was critical of Queen Victoria,
so we ended up in exile in Gernsey, which I had to look up, and it appears to be a shitty
little island in the middle of the English channel. This was also the last time in history anyone was axiled from a jersey.
That's a random local cop and friends.
Keep showing up, trying to start a singing duel with him.
All right, I see what you're doing.
I just wrote the book.
God damn it.
I should be noted that Hugo wasn't always on the right side of history on everything right
off the bat.
He took a decidedly unenlightened view of slavery for far too long until that is he met with
Victor Scholker, a mispronounced ash.
I think that nailed that one.
It's an abolitionist writer who convinced Hugo of the righteousness of the cause.
And by 1851, Hugo was a vocal abolitionist.
Writing of the United States, quote, it is the duty of this republic to set such a bad
example no longer the United States must renounce slavery or they must renounce liberty."
And quote, and writing of John Brown, he wrote, quote, assuredly, if instruction is ever a sacred duty, it must
be when it is directed against slavery."
From the moment of his conversion to the abolitionist movement forward, Hugo became a stalwart
and vocal ally to the cause.
That was an excellent paragraph that can be summed up as he eventually thought black people
were people, Tom.
I thought you did a great job. Now, he was opposition to injustice was not lip service. After being cast into exile for
his critique of Napoleon, he refused amnesty, and he remained in exile until Napoleon himself
fell from power when Hugo returned home to France and was quickly elected to the Senate. He advocated
basically for the European Union, though his term was the United States of Europe and he called
any war in Europe a civil war. Now, as great an influential man as Hugo was, none of that is why I
wanted to write this essay. That was all filler, so Cecil doesn't edit my essay down to a short apology
about why we have no episode this week. You said there's fuck stuff. There is fuck stuff.
Yes. What I really want to tell you about is this.
More historical context.
Boo.
Those are fuck stuff.
This next stuff is admittedly pretty petty and trivial compared to the great man's many accomplishments, but I
Am a small man who feels unaccomplished when I read about people like this. So let's get into it
Hugo was a procrastinator so much so that when he needed to write
He would strip himself naked and then give all of his clothes
to his wife with instructions that she not return his clothes to him until he completed
a chapter or two of whatever he was working on.
This actually became such a habit of his that eventually he did most of his writing completely
nude.
Nice.
Now on when I'm public speaking, I'm going to imagine everyone in the room is a procrastinator. Thanks Tom.
I actually do the same thing as Hugo with the naked writing, but
for me, it's just to avoid doing laundry quite as often. That's
all I did. Is that better?
We're worse.
We're worse. She comes out of your chest hair. Yeah, I'm going
green. Yikes. We're tied as writers going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be going to be life as an adult, Hugo threw a dinner party with 30 or more guests every night. And at
these parties, his favorite subject was how fucking awesome he was. And I think we've
established that that was probably true, but still at some point, another lengthy tirade
about how baller the host of the party is just gets old. The antidote to this was a trick
that guests would frequently ask you go to perform, likely
just to get him to shop for a minute.
So here's the trick.
Hugo would take a whole orange and shove that thing into his mouth.
Caliente.
They would fill the rest of his...
Oh, there's more?
Yeah.
There's more.
There's more.
There's more.
There's more.
I have no idea.
Yes. Then he would fill the rest of his gaping mall
with sugar cubes,
and then he would start to chew the mess up a bit,
and then he would knock back a couple of glasses of Kirsch,
which is a clear brandy-based lacour
to swallow the whole thing down.
Where does that go in?
It's somehow that's his trick.
That was his trick, he's famous for this trick.
He's amazing.
Were you doing a trick all this time should we have been applauding?
No, Victor Hugo was also
Incredibly famous you cannot imagine actually how famous yes, I can Tom fuck you
Very aggressive moment Okay. I don't know. You want to leave it up? It's hard enough.
Very aggressive moment on the show.
No, you haven't.
Exactly.
Struck me as funny to say, man.
Look at that.
While he was while he was alive,
the street he lived on was named after him.
That's a little weird.
He received letters addressed,
and I am not kidding here.
There are letters addressed to quote mr. Victor Hugo on
His avenue
Paris that's awesome and
They got delivered these are letters that got delivered when we was on his 80th birthday
They threw him a parade that is still one of the largest parades ever had in Paris. They declared the entire day a national holiday and 600,000 people walked past his home
while he waived at them in procession.
While he was exiled in Guernsey, pebbles that he stepped on were picked up and kept his
souvenirs and today he is a venerated saint
in Vietnam in the Kao Dai religion. Okay, I imagine all of that you fuck.
I'm sorry, that was not here. There's like, there's a void of tension. I was trying to get
I'm done. I now have however saved the best for last. Victor Hugo fucked a lot. Too much way too much. He was super weird
about it actually. On his wedding night, he claims to have had sex with his wife nine times
in that one night. Fuck you. No, you got a splint. What do you know? The split get out of here.
She came negative one times during that time, too.
Yeah. Well, his wife Adele claims in her writings that she lost interest in sex
likely because she went numb and never recovered.
Or he's a two pump chump, either one, right?
He was actually, that is actually true.
Like prostitute said he slept.
The city was absolutely terrible. Oh, still 18 pumps in a night. Get at it.
Okay. I'm gonna put the damn thing on your story. I can prematurely ejaculate nine times
a night. Oh, good. You're gonna say about this guy. Good one. Good one. Everyone needs
heroes. Eli. Victor Hugo kept weird, meticulous records of his insanely prolific sex life, chronicling
a volume of sexual activity that is just insane.
He had sex at least three times and as many as nine times a day, every day.
Okay.
All right.
He spent so much time at the brothels in Paris that when he died,
all of the brothels in the city of Paris closed down in morning. All of them. Seriously? Yeah. Yes.
Sex workers draped their genitals in black crape as a mark of respect when he died.
black crape as a mark of respect when he died. And he did not die a young man,
which means that he was banging his way
through the cat houses of Paris
with pussy veil morning frequency
into his 80s before Viagra was even a glimmer in Pfizer's eye.
You know, here's one of those brothels being like,
okay, you gotta stop quoting Fontine.
You're making really weird stuff.
That doesn't make it better.
Victor Hugo died at 83, but given how prolific he was with the ladies of Paris, if your
ancestry has roots in 19th century France, you're probably related to Victor Hugo.
He also did a bunch of drawings.
Mango said of them that if Hugo had decided to become a painter instead of a writer,
he would have outshown all the artists of their century.
But he didn't, because he was too busy nakedly eating oranges and banging prostitutes.
Right.
And if you had to summarize what you've learned in one sentence, Tom, what would it be?
That Cecil isn't really excited to watch me eat a whole orange in one bite.
He's just grown tired of my shit.
And are you ready for Lake Quiz?
I am.
Let's do this thing.
All right, Tom, which of the following was the best title I said Lake Quiz earlier just
a moment ago?
Got the clever.
Cool.
Which of the following was the best title?
If Hugo came up with or it's a start of this
day, is it the no I appreciate it?
This up. Hugo had a fuck journal. What was the best
title that he came up with or his fuck journal? Was it a
plaster of the house? I cream the cream.
2 4 6 0, or D,
Lage is. Those are all so good, but I actually have a funness for plaster of the house. Plaster of the house. It is. Well done. I thought you would guess Lage is, but it was.
I was. The house. The house. The house. The house. The house. The house. The house. The
prostitutes of Paris had tons of stories about Victor Hugo, which one is true?
A, who was awful in bed, a terrible lay or in French, a lay miserob, if you were to
be.
Yes.
Don't worry, why would you read the rest of them?
That's perfect.
He was fond of the porn star tap with his junk, they nicknamed him, Slapped in Metis.
That's a different, okay.
Anyway, Bsi, when he died, they all mourned
the last day of a condom man or D. He was in the ball torture and he went by the name of
the crunch sack of Notre Dame. Crunch sack. I just, I mean, A is true. A is just true. That's your right. A is true.
It's just true.
It's a Rob.
Absolutely.
It's perfect.
That's perfect, Cecil.
Hang up your pun hat.
All right, Tom.
Punch back if you know,
Jadam is way weirder than you remember.
A, it's called
hunchback.
What?
They use the G-slur so many times it should be a water-based ride at Disney.
See, the part of the movie is that Quasimodo's boss wants to rape the Romani lady.
Yes, he's true.
Or D, Quasimodo dies at the end, guys.
He fucking dies and they were like, you should be a Disney movie.
Let's all throw it.
It is D because it is again the creepiest Disney movie
that they have ever made.
That's true.
No, it's not.
It's not.
Nope, it's not the creepiest Disney movie.
What was the answer?
The answer was the G-Sler.
What is the G-Sler? I don't know if the G slur. It's a much faster than it.
I don't know if the G slur winner.
Liz Rosenberg.
All right.
Well, Liz Rosenberg is the winner.
Eli, I guess we'll let you on her behalf.
It's on her behalf.
And Cecil should do it.
All right.
Well, for Tom, Cecililai, I'm Heath.
Thank you for hanging out with us today.
We'll be back next week, and by then Cecil will be an expert on something else.
How about now?
Between now and then you can hear Tom and Cecil on cognitive distance,
and you can hear Eli know on myself on God off the movies,
skating atheists, Skeppercrat, and D&D Monis.
And if you'd like to hear the people sing,
you can make a per episode donation.
patreon.com slash citation pod. If you'd like to get in people sing, you can make a per episode donation at patreon.com slash citation pod.
If you'd like to get in touch with us, listen to past episodes and equates on social media,
or take a look at show notes, check out citationpod.com.
Uh, sir?
Uh, yeah, for answer.
It's Javair, sir. I'm afraid he's dead.
Oh! No! What happened? That's what? It's Javair sir, I'm afraid he's dead. Oh, no.
What happened?
Yeah, he threw himself off a bridge
because he let that guy he's been chasing, go,
for like a minute, Jesus.
Honestly?
Good.
I think it was fucking weird man.
So fucking weird.
The way in the way he talked was what?
Yes, that was happening.
What happened?
What happened?
That wasn't safe. What is going going on he's got to stop singing everything