#although I genuinely know nothing about convents and probably couldn't elaborate if I tried

[dolphin1812]

Hugo’s sympathetic to this order and its loss: of its general status as religion becomes less of a part of French society, of its nuns (as they die), and of its own structure (as the number of nuns is so small that they can’t keep all their traditions anymore). It’s horrifying to see how quickly this wears down the nuns:

“The burden is implacable, and remains the same for the few as for the many. It weighs down, it crushes. Thus they die. At the period when the author of this book still lived in Paris, two died. One was twenty-five years old, the other twenty-three.”

The strain clearly caused premature deaths, and it was likely psychological as well as physical. Praying “perpetually” is difficult with so few to make sure it’s done at all times, but it must also be very isolating, making the sleep deprivation (and the austerities) much worse.

At the same time, he’s very clear on another point: the convent had to go. Society no longer endorsed it, finding it so “rigid” that everyone came to “recoil” at it:

“At the beginning of the Restoration, the convent of the Petit-Picpus was in its decay; this forms a part of the general death of the order, which, after the eighteenth century, has been disappearing like all the religious orders. Contemplation is, like prayer, one of humanity’s needs; but, like everything which the Revolution touched, it will be transformed, and from being hostile to social progress, it will become favorable to it.”

“Progress” is overtly mentioned in the last sentence here; as social values were irrevocably changed by the Revolution, it’s impossible for the convent to return to its former status. In fact, it was destined to “die” because of the decreased status of religion. Its horrific aspects may have hastened this end, but there was no chance of it really recovering. It’s sad on the individual level (the suffering nuns), but, to return to the Conventionist, can the pain of individuals (whether they be kings or nuns) be compared to the structural injustices these systems inflict? 

Hugo doesn’t reject the convent entirely, either. He argues that both “contemplation” and “prayer” - its two main functions - are “human needs.” He also says that “demolitions” must be followed by “reconstructions,” implying that while the convent itself follows a cruel model, its goal is, in some ways, a noble and vital one. A similar organization that does not deprive women to this extent (possibly to please the wealthy, based on the story of a convent’s founding in the previous chapter; and limited to the wealthy, based on that same story) should arise in its place.

(It’s also very Hugo to use an architectural metaphor to describe this).

I really love this paragraph:

“In the meantime, let us study things which are no more. It is necessary to know them, if only for the purpose of avoiding them. The counterfeits of the past assume false names, and gladly call themselves the future. This spectre, this past, is given to falsifying its own passport. Let us inform ourselves of the trap. Let us be on our guard. The past has a visage, superstition, and a mask, hypocrisy. Let us denounce the visage and let us tear off the mask.”

History always serves a purpose to Hugo, and here, it’s an educational and political one. Knowing history teaches us how to avoid the worst of it; avoiding these wrongs is inherently political. The Restoration, for instance, may have been that “counterfeit” posing as the “future,” bringing back a political order (the monarchy) and a religious emphasis that could not align with the values of the populace for long. History can’t be too judgmental, as Hugo insists that while we cannot “understand all,” we should “insult nothing.” Still, this idea of studying the past with this goal in mind is inextricably linked to his notion of Progress, which stipulates that the world must develop in a certain way and that we must be aware of possible obstacles (with “masks” or not) to that.

Spoilers below:

Reading about the decay of the convent really underscores how vital it was that Jean Valjean decide to leave it with Cosette. The decision was obviously important in that it let her experience more of the world before she made any choices on how to live her life, and it’s a key instance of Valjean prioritizing her well-being over his own. However, it may have literally saved her life as well. If Cosette had become a nun to stay in the convent, she would have been 32 when there were no longer enough nuns for the prioress to be an elderly woman. She would have been older than the women who died under the strain of their roles, assuming that the strain wouldn’t have killed her too. Staying in the convent would have chained Cosette to an old, rotting social order that would have destroyed her. Valjean was already scarred by this order (through the bagne) in a way that he never fully recovers from; he saved Cosette from the same fate.