Victor Hugo “Oh Memories! Treasures in darkness born! Murky belief of our ancient dreams! Dear brilliance of a past that brilliantly beams! Casting a radiance on things dead and at rest(p)” (Hugo 116)! In a international land, in a exotic era, an extinct sound resides in the atmosphere. It’s the sound of a world that has never experienced or conceived of anything like an drive or a jet, a television or a radio, a microwave or even an alarm clock. It’s the sound of a bitty population, people that live on the amusement they find in polite conversation, art, theatre, and primarily literature.
When shadow falls, the only illumination casting a glow on this world comes from the flickering of a lantern or a microscopic bedside candle. In the midst of this existence a war was brew amongst the citizens of France, and the peaceful simplicity is interrupted. Republican armies in conflict with the nobility lace the country in tents and encampments by night and...If you privation to get a full essay, order it on our website:
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