Title: The Garret of a Bohemian
Author: Camberleigh Fauconbridge
Rating: PG - 13 / T
Pairings: Enjonine [Éponine/Enjolras] Mosette [Marius/Cosette]
Summary: Inspired by Giacomo Puccini's "La bohème". The world's greatest example of redemption is combined with the world's greatest romantic tragedy. A group of friends argue and fall in love as they struggle to survive in a Parisian garret. Not based off RENT. 25th Anniversary. AU. É/E.
Disclaimer: Les Misérables and its musical counterpart are the property of Victor Hugo, Cameron Mackintosh, Claude-Michel Schönberg, Alain Boublil, Herbert Kretzmer, Trevor Nunn, John Caird, all of the casts and all of the creative teams that have produced any production of Les Misérables. La bohème is the property of Giacomo Puccini, Henri Murger, Luigi Illica, Giuseppe Giacosa, Théodore Barrière, Robert Dornhelm, all the casts and all the creative teams that have produced any production of La bohème. No money is being made from this story, and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Imagined Cast: Ramin Karimloo as Enjolras/Rodolfo; Samantha Barks as Éponine/Mimì; Hadley Fraser as Grantaire/Marcello; Nick Jonas as Marius/Schaunard; Jonathan Williams as Combeferre/Colline
Author's Note: Has anyone else noticed that Anna Netrebko almost looks like an older Samantha Barks? Except Samantha Barks does musical theatre, not opera, and Anna Netrebko isn't a mezzo-soprano. But other than that.
Moving on…
I recently watched the 2008 La bohème film (the one with Anna Netrebko as Mimì, Rolando Villazón as Rodolfo, George Von Bergen as Marcello, and Nicole Cabell as Musetta), and within seconds of the music starting, I fell in love. There is a definite reason why this is one of the most performed operas ever. It was magnificent introduction into opera.
As I was watching La bohème, I couldn't help but notice that the set seemed to be straight out of Les Misérables or Oliver!, as well as the setting, the characters and some of the situations. Combined with the fact that, as stated above, Anna Netrebko and Samantha Barks look similar, an idea popped into my head. What would a Les Misérables, La bohème-inspired story look like?
Obviously, there are a few problems.
The first. Fantine is the closest character to Mimì, with her background as a seamstress and the tuberculosis. However, there isn't enough information about Fantine's group of friends— Blachevelle and Favourite, Listolier and Dahlia, Fameuil and Zephine— and Tholomyès is nothing like Rodolfo.
The second. If I went with the La bohème time frame, in the 1830s: Musichetta, in my mind, is the only character who would fit right from the start; Musetta and Musichetta's names are even similar. Cosette and Marius wouldn't be perfect fits for Mimì and Rodolfo.
There is one other pairing that's left: Éponine and Enjolras.
But they don't quite fit, either. Enjolras is rich (he wouldn't get into the University of Paris otherwise). Éponine is practically homeless, and asides from the fairly obvious occupation (prostitution), she doesn't work. Enjolras obviously wouldn't live in some measly attic. Éponine does die near the end just like Mimì, but not from a disease. Éponine is also the opposite of frail, she doesn't get embarrassed easily, and Marius-Rodolfo/Éponine-Mimì wouldn't work. Enjolras wouldn't fall in love at first sight, either (or in love at all, really). Éponine might (though it's infatuation, not love), but not with Enjolras.
And then there's the whole other problem of who would be Marcello, and the list goes on and on.
So why am I even writing this, if it wouldn't work? Why am I torturing you, reader, with this author's note, even though you've probably closed out of this already?
Because, as messed up and cracked as this is, I think it might just work.
So. I've decided to go with the second option, having it set in the 1830s. Although you may hate me for this:
Éponine (though it will take some work) will be Mimì. Enjolras (though it will take even more work than Éponine) will be Rodolfo. Musichetta (no surprises here) will be Musetta. And Marcello… After quite a lot of debate, Grantaire will be Marcello.
Please don't abandon this quite yet. It's not as bad as it sounds. I think.
Various members of the Friends of the ABC will make appearances. Marius will still be in love with Cosette. Things will be twisted. But please trust me when I say it might work. This has a chance. A slight chance, but a chance all the same.
And I almost forgot: no, this is not based in any way off RENT. I have never seen RENT, so if you're looking for that, I'm afraid I can't help you.
Act I: Rodolfo
Scene 1
The curtain rises to reveal the outline of a garret. The furnishings are sparse and almost Spartan-like: a decently sized table of poor workmanship; a trunk filled with papers, shoved by the wall; an easel bearing a painting of an undistinguishable shape. There is a dark hearth filled only with ashes. Half for the roof (there is no proper ceiling) is the traditional timbers and shingles. The other half is made of glass; thick, dirty panes of glass that are quickly being covered with snow.
There are two men in the garret. One, with black hair and even darker eyes, is sitting at the table, writing. The other, with light brown, almost dark blonde hair and the beginnings of a few days' old beard, is lazily painting random shapes onto a canvas; he is clearly bored, and seems to be uncaring about his finished product.
The music starts. For the moment, it is a quiet murmur.
For the seventh time, Enjolras rested the tip of the old fountain pen on a fresh sheet of paper, trying to summon the right words. He had been quite close in the last draft, but it was still missing something. He focused on a nondescript crack in the plastered wall, thinking hard. After a few moments, he looked at the blank paper and began to write, slowly and carefully.
Our society is built on the back of its lowest members. This cannot continue.
All at once, there was a loud clatter as a large object was thrown at the window. His hand jerked, leaving a thin black line on the otherwise pristine page. Enjolras swore and tried to dab at the line before it could dry, but only succeeded in creating a smear. He had been so close, too. "Grantaire, what on earth did you toss at the window?" But he saw the answer before Grantaire could verbalize it. A canvas lay face-up on the floor, and there was a large smear of dark colors on the dirty window. "Why did you throw a painting at the window? Particularly a painting that hadn't dried? What has gotten into you?"
"I'm bored, cold, and I can't get the image in my head onto the bloody canvas. In other words, I'm doing wonderfully."
"Grantaire—" Enjolras resisted the urge to swear again. "If you're cold and unsatisfied with the painting and all that, why not, I don't know, burn the painting or something?"
"A burned canvas will make this place smell horribly. What about the chair?"
"Do you want to stand until we move out of here?"
"What about the papers you're planning on throwing out?" Grantaire suggested.
Enjolras had been planning, once he had finally finished a decent draft, to look over the other drafts for shreds of potential, but the idea of a fire in the hearth— especially since the wind was picking up outside, and the makings of a blizzard along with it— sounded much more appealing. "Fine."
As Enjolras returned to his paper, Grantaire started searching his pockets for matches— an object more precious that gems during Parisian winters. When he found none, he searched the niches and cracks of the garret until he finally found them. He grabbed the topmost paper and theatrically held it aloft. "The paper will crackle and turn to ashes, then the poetry will rise to Heaven! Within that languid blue flickering flame, an ardent tale of love will fade! [1] Farewell to—"
"Grantaire, it's a draft of a political newspaper column, not an opera. Will you burn the thing already?"
Within moments, a small, weak fire was burning in the hearth, emitting hardly any warmth, and in a few seconds, the flames were reduced to embers. Grantaire grabbed the entire stack and set it aflame, but this lasted only a few minutes at the most.
Enjolras had started once more on fresh piece of paper. Without looking up, he asked, "What are you going to do about the paint on the window?"
"What am I going to do? I'd be perfectly fine with leaving it there."
"The landlord will eventually notice."
"And I'm supposed to care what the landlord thinks."
"Grantaire…" Enjolras sighed. "Could you at least try to get to the point where people aren't annoyed by you all the time?"
"Why should I care what other people think about me?" Grantaire crossed over and replaced the painting back into its position in the easel. "You know, it actually looks better like this. Maybe I should do this to everything I paint."
"So tourists can buy a glob of paint on a canvas and call it art?" Enjolras stood up. "I'm going to get something to clean the window." He left Grantaire to consider his new inspiration, privately wondering if his friend was going to do anything more with his life.
[1] This is actually part of an English translation of two different stanzas from the first scene of La bohème: No, in cener la carta si sfaldi/e l'estro rivoli ai suoi cieli (No, the paper will crackle and turn to ashes/then the poetry will rise to Heaven), and In quell'azzurro - guizzo languente/Sfuma un'ardente - scena d'amor (Within that languid blue flickering/flame, an ardent tale of love fades).