When I read Les Misérables earlier this summer, I thoroughly enjoyed each of the characters’ stories and how they all intertwined. I loved Jean Valjean’s fierce dedication to Fantine in taking in her daughter as his own, I loved Marius’ love for Cosette, and I admired Bishop Myriel’s kindness. However, it wasn’t until we began our bookpacking experience that I found my favorite character: Gavroche.

While we were still in London a few weeks ago, we had the privilege of seeing Les Misérables on stage at Sondheim Theatre. Immediately, little Gavroche stole my heart. He was played by a young boy with an incredible voice and a commanding stage presence. Almost everything he said was met with an endearing “aww” or an eruption of laughter from the audience, making him extremely lovable from the get-go in a way that I didn’t pick up on quite as much when I was reading.

When I got home from the theatre, I was eager to revisit some of Gavroche’s scenes that I initially didn't think much of, and now that we’re in Paris, I get to walk the same paths that his little legs triumphed in Hugo’s ever-famous tale.

When Hugo introduces Gavroche, he describes him as “a little boy of eleven or twelve who would have quite accurately embodied the description of the archetypal gamin if, with the laughter of his age on his lips, his heart has not been totally bleak and empty.” He goes on, explaining that “his father gave no thought to him and his mother did not love him. He was one of those children, most deserving of all pity, who have both father and mother and who are orphans. This child never felt so happy as on the street. The pavements were less hard to him than his mother’s heart.”

“Liberty Leading the People” at the Louvre

With this striking introduction of little Gavroche’s character, it is natural to wonder where Hugo’s inspiration may have come from in creating him. While it is not confirmed, it is almost impossible to deny that he must have gotten some inspiration from Eugéne Delacroix’s “Liberty Leading the People.” This stunning and powerful depiction of the 1830 July Revolution hangs in the Louvre, a sight that I was lucky enough to see in person last Saturday. It is widely theorized that Gavroche is based on the young boy in the foreground of the painting, and I can say, looking into his eyes in real life solidified that conjecture for me. The little boy wears scruffy clothes and has suggestions of dirt on his face, but his brave wielding of the handguns and his prominence in the painting shows his bravery and commitment to the cause of the people. Much like the Gavroche we come to know and love, he seems to fight with a selfless and generous heart and is far beyond his years.

In Les Misérables, Gavroche does not live with his aforementioned hard-hearted mother, Madame Thénardier. Instead, he often sleeps in the Elephant of the Bastille, an iconic structure placed by Napoleon in the center of the Place de la Bastille. In a particular scene, Gavroche invites two gamins – aged five and seven – to join in his resourceful (but uncomfortable) sleeping arrangements. This was the first point at which I got to walk the paths of little Gavroche around Paris.

“The two children set off again, in tears. In the meantime clouds had gathered. It began to rain.

Young Gavroche ran after them and said, ‘What’s the matter with you brats?’

‘We’ve nowhere to sleep,’ replied the older one.

‘Is that all? said Gavroche. ‘As if that was a problem! Is that anything to cry about? What ninnies!’

And tempering with his rather facetious superiority by adopting a tone of kindly authority and gentle protectiveness, he said, ‘Come along with me, bratlings!’

‘Yes, monsieur,’ said the older one.

And the two children followed him as they would have followed an archbishop. They had stopped crying. Gavroche led them up Rue St-Antoine in the direction of the Bastille” (Part 4.Book 6.Chapter 2).

Our study center in Paris is on Rue du Faubourg St-Antoine, which is the Faubourg (suburb) continuation of Rue St-Antoine on the other side of the Place de la Bastille, so I am often in the perfect location to trace Gavroche’s path home with the little gamins. And, lucky for me, it’s rained every day for the past two weeks, so I got to feel a little closer to what those little boys felt in Hugo’s tale. During my lunch break, I decided to revisit the Rue St-Antoine, a place that we explored through the lens of A Tale of Two Cities a few weeks ago. Umbrella in hand, I looked for where Gavroche might have first encountered these two little boys, near Orme-St-Gervais. Typical contemporary Parisian storefronts line the streets. A Monoprix, a boulangerie, a patisserie, and endless townhomes and boutiques replace where the wig-maker’s shop once stood. I continued on my path, making my way to the Rue St-Antoine, then turning right and heading toward Bastille, just as Gavroche did. Just when I thought too much had changed to find any of the places that Hugo mentions along the road, I notice a man, sitting on a step, smoking a hand-rolled cigarette in true Parisian fashion. He sits under an archway, and I am reminded of the young teenage girl that Gavroche and the boys encounter.

“However, continuing up the street, he noticed, blue with cold under an archway, a beggar-girl of about thirteen or fourteen, so scantily clad that her bare knees showed.”

“‘Poor girl!’ said Gavroche. ‘Without even a pair of breeches, here, take this at least.’ And unwinding all that good woll he had round his neck, he threw it under the beggar-girl’s thin, purple shoulders…”

The man sitting on the step was far from a beggar-girl. In fact, he was the antithesis of her in many ways. He was well dressed, clean shaven, appeared comfortable under his umbrella, and seemed to be enjoying a leisurely smoke break outside. Even still, his presence under the archway made me question what it might have been like to be that young girl in far less comfortable conditions. In ill-fitting clothes, she sat there, shivering from cold and aching from hunger. Gavroche was like a savior to her when he offered his only source of warmth to help a stranger, even though he was suffering as well. This detail highlights Gavroche’s generosity and willingness to help those less fortunate than him – after all, he does have a place to sleep at night.

Finally, the boys (and I) continue along Rue St-Antoine, they bargain for a bite to eat at a bakery on the right side of the street, and I sip on my midday coffee. It’s almost as if I can hear their footsteps and little voices within the pitter-patter of the rain. Finally, the July Column is in view, signaling that I am a five minute walk from my classroom. For the boys, a 40 foot tall plaster elephant, which they will soon call home, marks the end of their journey down Rue St-Antoine.

In this scene, though it is not Gavroche’s most heroic or significant moment in the novel, many of his lovable character traits come to life through his actions. He takes in the young boys with a mentor mentality (and a little bit of sass) and leads them to a place of shelter, and he gives up his own comfort to help a stranger.

Throughout the rest of his short life, Gavroche has several moments that speak to his valiance and selflessness, and even though his elephant-home and the cobblestone streets his little legs used to roam no longer look the same, his story still feels alive where the elephant once stood. By seeing him onstage in London and imagining him in real life as I roam Rue St-Antoine, I connected with this character more than I ever thought I would, and I think he is a great example of finding the joy in a less-than-ideal situation and putting others before himself. We can all be a little more like Gavroche.