At its core, Les Miserables asks its audience a very pointed and pertinent question: Would you have gone to the barricades? It demands of each of us that we look deep into our souls and answer honestly for ourselves. In Victor Hugo's moral universe, this question is more important than whether we are rich or poor, whether we have love in our lives, or even whether we believe in God. Every fan of Les Miserables has asked him or herself this question at least once. It is a very personal question; no one can answer it for you.

In hindsight, the answer seems like a no-brainer. The students in the Hugo's version of the June Rebellion knew that there was a chance they would die, but they didn't know that all but one of them would actually perish on the barricade. That's a higher casualty rate than any conventional war in history.

If your answer is no, there is a follow-up: Why not? Are you too afraid? Do you not believe in the cause enough? And if not, then what can be done to make you care enough and bring you out of your state of uncertainty?

But if you say yes, there are follow-up questions as well. Would you have joined for the right reasons or the wrong ones? Would you have gone because you believed in the cause, like the majority of the students? Would you have gone to kill yourself, like Marius? Would you have gone to protect someone you love and die for them if need be, like Éponine, Grantaire, and Valjean? Or perhaps for some combination of the above reasons?

In America, the Declaration of Independence states that if a government becomes oppressive, it is the right and the duty of the people to alter or abolish it. But would you have been able to take up arms against soldiers of your own country? To commit treason? Would you do it if all your friends were doing it? Would you do it to support them, or to fit in? What if you had friends in the National Guard as well? Isn't there something more peaceful and less drastic you can do to make a positive change?

In 1859, three years before Les Miserables was published, Victor Hugo said of America, "If ever insurrection is a sacred duty, it must be when it is directed against slavery." Yet oddly enough, his main hero, Jean Valjean, is a pacifist; he defends the barricade, yet although he has several chances to shoot people, he declines every time. This is what differentiates him from the other heroes, the students, who experience the same moral struggle but come to a different conclusion over it. Either path is a valid, moral and noble path to take; through his dual role models, Valjean and Enjolras, Hugo shows that there is more than one way to defend liberty. Hugo himself may not have been a wonderful human being, but he has inspired- and continues to inspire- people to do wonderful things.

So yes- perhaps counterintuitively, Les Miserables makes me more patriotic as an American. This might be ironic, but frankly, I don't care. It would make me more patriotic if I were Mexican or Indian or Maltese. I think it has made me braver and more compassionate in general, as well.

Not only has Les Miserables made me more patriotic, it has restored my faith in what patriotism actually is and what it means. Before I read Les Miserables, I was cynical about patriotism, like many of my peers. I was disappointed and angry with the government and the people. Like Grantaire, I was disillusioned. I thought that patriotism was for the blind, the stupid, the weak. I thought myself above it. But if you really love someone- or something- you can't help cheering for its victories and mourning its mistakes.

Reading the novel, it seems obvious that the students are all incredibly patriotic, even without Enjolras' oft-mocked and misunderstood comment about his 'Patria'. They are engaged in what Thomas Jefferson called 'the highest form of patriotism'- dissent- and no reader or viewer could ever fault them for their intentions. But these days when you hear about protestors and whistleblowers around the world getting denounced as traitors, you realize that it's a message we need now more than ever. Hugo had the foresight to know that a hundred and fifty years later, this would still be a problem, that the same people would have the same misconceptions about 'kids these days'. It doesn't really matter what the kids have done to deserve this; there will always be bigots who think that young people are inherently lazy and selfish.

Unlike many adults, I don't think that my generation is any worse than those that came before it. Although I do acknowledge its problems, I think every generation has the same capacity to rise to a challenge, and I don't think we're as materialistic or shallow as we're assumed to be. Every generation seems worthless before they have a legacy. The only difference between us and the Friends of the ABC is that it is our turn, now, to be a group that actually did become historic- and we have many more resources with which to make history. One way or another, we're going to do it. All we have to do is look in the mirror if we want to find the strength mustered by those students so long ago.

When we speak of the students, we must speak of one student in particular: the leader. As Les Miserables is a serious drama, it does not break the fourth wall in the traditional sense; but if there is one character in the entire show who breaks the fourth wall, it is Enjolras. This is why many fans have fallen in love with him. In "One Day More", when Enjolras sings "Will you take your place with me?", he is asking a question directly of the audience. If you are paying attention, you will notice that Enjolras never sings about himself and rarely about anyone within the show; he is completely focused on the world at large. He seems to be able to see into the future in a way that none of the other characters can, or will. He doesn't need a solo, because he has the most inspiring songs in the show, bar none; and one of the most inspiring songs in the history of the world. He is the centerpiece, the heart of Les Miserables, in many ways even more so than Jean Valjean; and the posters that do not show young Cosette often show a silhouette of him standing atop the barricade, gun in hand, looking out towards a better tomorrow.

When I first watched the movie of Les Miserables almost three years ago, I would not have gone to the barricades. But now, I think I would. I'm not sure; I'm not that arrogant. I don't think anyone can ever really know for sure what they would have done. Similarly, it seems pointless to me to ask which of the Amis I am most like. I have traits from several of them, but ultimately I would just be me. The Amis had different personalities and came from different backgrounds, but they all had two things in common: a penis; and a courage, selflessness, and determination which transcends that of the average human being. I don't have the first one, but sometimes I feel that I have the second. Whatever I decide to do with that, I can't do it alone.

Many people have asked themselves in some form what they would have done if they lived in Nazi Germany. Would they have risked their lives by hiding Jews or by speaking out against the regime? Would they have gone along with it, like the average German citizen? Or would they have used the system for their own personal gain? If you have ever read or seen any form of Number the Stars, Schindler's List, Cabaret, The Sound of Music, The Book Thief, The Diary of Anne Frank, Night, The Boy in the Striped Pajamas, or The Wave- either by assignment or by choice- you must have stopped cold at some point and done some soul-searching with regards to your own moral fiber. It is quite possible that you were never the same again. As Westerners, we have an endless fascination with World War 2 and the Holocaust as a treasure trove of answers to all our most probing ethical questions.

The question of the barricade is perhaps not quite as extreme as this, but it is still highly relevant to the present day. At its best, literature makes us demand more of ourselves and the people and world around us, both intellectually and morally. That is one reason why society permits fiction to exist, and why it prospers in a free economy of the mind. We want to know what we would do in a dilemma, and we want to be reassured that we would do the right thing; but unfortunately, these two desires are not always compatible with one another. Above all, we must be honest with ourselves.

Ultimately, this is a question that we all answer in our own lives every day, whether we mean to or not. My involvement in the Les Mis fandom has coincided with my political activism. The problems we face in the 21st century are much more complicated than the ones faced by early nineteenth-century France. That fact is overwhelming, but it also provides for greater freedom and opportunity, giving you a chance to decide what you are most passionate about and leap into it headfirst with the faith that your friends are fighting for justice in another one of its many forms. Protesting has gotten safer (at least in the West), but the flip side of this is that it has also gotten less effective. Sometimes you get so angry and frustrated with the seeming futility of it all that you think that maybe it would be more effective to just barricade the streets with your friends and exercise your Second Amendment rights. But let's face it, that isn't going to happen anytime soon. We all have to choose our battles, to find smaller barricades on which to stand.

So now that you've finished reading this essay, take a moment to reflect on the central question and answer it in your own heart. Hopefully every time we read the novel or see the movie or listen to the soundtrack, our answer gets a little bit closer to 'yes'.