The Conquest of Plassans | Émile Zola #FRAclassic

La Conquête de Plassans, or The Conquest of Plassans (1874) is the fourth novel in Émile Zola's twenty-volume Rougon-Macquart series that I have been reading with Fanda for #Zoladdiction. My Oxford World's Classics 2014 edition is translated by Helen Constantine and has an Introduction by *Patrick McGuinness. He reminded me that,

Like all of Zola's fiction, (The Conquest of Plassans) is also a novel of human truth told with drama, symbolism, lyricism, and imaginative power.

It's set between 1858 and 1864, straight after the events in the very first book, The Fortune of the Rougons. The central drama follows the political machinations of the Catholic Church and the Second Empire against the disaffected rural provinces. A topic, I confess I knew very little about. Even Wikipedia acknowledges the difficulty for modern readers with this now little-known historical period.

Although the novel does assume in its readers a degree of familiarity with the battle between clerical political interests and governmental influence in the provincial towns of the Second Empire - knowledge which Zola's contemporary readers would certainly have taken for granted, but which seems obscure and almost arcane now - its strength lies not in its politics but in its human drama. On the face of it this could have been a relatively dull series of political observations, but instead by the end it is almost a melodrama, such is the anticlerical fury which Zola instils in his work.

To help me get my head around all the French Empires and Republics, I created my own little timeline below.

• Kingdom of France 987 - 1872
• First Republic 1872 - 1804 
• Napoléon Bonaparte
• First Empire 1804 - 1815 
• Napoléon I
• Bourbon Restoration 1815 - 1830 
• Louis XVIII (1814-1824) 
• Charles X (1824-1830)
• July Monarchy 1830 - 1848
• Louis Philippe I
• Second Republic 1848 - 1852 
• President Louis-Napoléon Bonaparte
• Second French Empire 1852 - 1870 
• Napoleon III
• Third Republic 1870 - 1940 
• Vichy Government 1940 - 1944 
• Philippe Pétain
• Provisional Government of the French Republic 1944 - 1946 
• Charles de Gaulle
• Fourth Republic 1946 - 1958
• Fifth Republic 1958 - present

Plassans is now in the hands of the Rougon family as we saw in the first book. They are Bonapartists. The bloody nature of his succession, with all it's betrayals and double-dealing, left a bad taste in the mouth of the locals. As this story begins in 1858, the Legitimists (or Royalists) have political favour.

Abbé Faujas', the new man in town (and surely the epitome of literary stranger danger), has his own self-interests at heart. As does Félicité Rougon, the matriarch of the family and the unofficial ruler of Plassans. She may appear to be helping him, but Bonapartist or not, if he gets in her way, she will do everything in her power to come out on top. Félicité is clearly in it for the long game.

Faujas has been enlisted, by a shadowy group of Bonapartists in Paris, to bring Plassans to heel. Le Petit Napoleon was not popular in the countryside after the violent 1851 coup d état although every effort was made to turn this opinion around. The Catholic Church and it's priests are shown here, to be as political, ambitious and lusting for power as the next man. Zola shines a light on religious hypocrisy and power plays and reveals the toxic mix of small town gossip and self-serving intrigues.

It's a heady mix of dastardly deeds, hysteria and madness.

The cover illustration, The Orange Trees, or The Artists Brother in His Garden, 1878 by Gustave Caillebotte is a very appropriate choice given the amount of time our characters spend in the back garden. 

The story begins with Mouret enjoying his garden of Eden-style space, pottering around in his vegetable and herb garden, picking fruit. It's a safe haven for his children to play in. On either side are two opposing political families - on the right are the rich Rastoil's with a pretentious English-style garden and on the left, the family of the sub-prefect, Péqueur des Saulaies with a carpet of rolling grass and a pond. The Rastoil's are Legitimists and the sub-prefect and his friends are 'bigwigs of the Empire.' Mouret is probably a Republican (like Zola), but prefers not to get caught up in the politicking.

Abbé Faujas, our very own snake in the grass, is very interested in what's happening in both gardens.

The Artist's Garden at Vétheuil | Claude Monet | 1881

As Faujas' influence grows, he uses the intermediary garden to bring together the two different groups. As he spends more time in the garden, Mouret spends less and less, isolating himself in his room instead. The addition of Faujas' sister and brother-in-law, Trouche, hasten the disintegration of Mouret's family life...and his mind. Slugs not only attack his lettuces but his peace of mind. And when Trouche takes over the garden, pulling up all the vegetables and fruit trees to create a vulgar flower show, we see this as sign of Mouret's fall from grace.

It is symbolic, and rather satisfying, that Mouret uses remnants of this showy garden as a catalyst for his last dramatic and fiery act. The garden of Eden becomes an apocalyptic fire of Hell. A Zola-esque form of purification has occurred on this troubled site.

Faujas was deliberately created by Zola to be misogynistic. Early on he says to Marthe, Mouret's wife and cousin, (she is a descendant of the legitimate Rougon line, while Mouret is part of the less than salubrious Macquart branch of the family) "you are like all women, even the noblest causes are ruined when they get hold of them."

Yet Marthe succumbs to religious fanaticism anyway, although it's often hard to tell if her fervour is for God or for Faujas. As she becomes more caught up in her religiosity, her family life suffers. The house falls into disrepair, domestic duties are ignored and eventually all her children leave or are farmed out to others.

The Mouret's decaying marriage is also another example of Zola's fixation on genetic dysfunction. This is not a genetically healthy family and when two cousins from the two different branches come together, it is sure to be disastrous. The youngest Mouret daughter is feeble-minded, but that's not enough for Zola. He throws a rat into this seemingly happy existence, to see what these characters will do.

And what they do, is unravel, rather magnificently into madness and illness. Imperfection or flaws are not enough for Zola. Natural determinism is what he is really exploring, and whether or not an individual can rise above their genetic makeup. Zola clearly believes they can't. Even though, he draws the Mouret family sympathetically (the Simpsons of the Second Empire!) they are doomed to suffer the same fate as the rest of the extended family.

The Conquest of Plassans could have been a dry novel about politics and religion, instead Zola created a gripping, fascinating insight into a period of time long gone. That time may be long gone, but our world is still suffering from the same kinds of intrigues and machinations. Except now it is faith-based initiatives being used to drive government policy across the globe, supposedly in the name of God, but really just about power and money.

Zola wrote about his time in history, but his books are now considered classics because they can still have the power to speak to us, 150 years later.

• La Fortune des Rougon (1871)
• La Curée (1871–2) The Kill
• Le Ventre de Paris (1873) The Belly of Paris
• La Conquête de Plassans (1874)
• Nana (1880)
• Germinal (1885)

2020 | Here We Come!

Photo by Jamie Street on Unsplash

Sometimes in this blogging life, the words just won't come.

I have several posts on the back burner waiting for inspiration, time and for the right words to appear. In the meantime, I will fill the gaps with housekeeping posts and lists.

Once upon a time, I used to join in a ridiculous amount of reading challenges.
I'd read books with colours in the titles, from every country around the world, or all the counties in England! I read by numbers, by lottery, in large groups and small. I filled out bingo cards and joined reading challenges to decrease my TBR pile, my classics pile, my Aussie author pile and my award winning books pile.

They were all fun at the time, even as I knew I had no chance whatsoever, in following through and completing them.

Over my decade of blogging, I've finally learnt what works for me and what doesn't.

Even though all those other challenges were fun, a great way of meeting other bloggers and working through my TBR pile, they ultimately made me feel guilty, obligated and bogged down by the end of the year.

I've learnt that I love:

• a readalong. 
• a slow read.
• historical fiction and classics.
• Australian lit, Japanese lit and award winning books.
• memoirs, history and travel books.
• cook books and my kids books.
• rereading.

Which brings me nicely to my 2020 plans.

I will start the year with Sheila's First Book of the Year photo challenge which will include a picture of me with my next classic for Nick's slow read chapter-a-day readalong, War and Peace.

Together we've read, Les Miserables (very successfully), Don Quixote (less successfully - I bailed halfway through), The Count of Monte Cristo (another big success) and now we have War and Peace to look forward to.

This will be a reread for me.

I first read W&P in the Antipodean summer of 2001. I had just bought my first home and I spent all of the January school holidays either ploughing my way through W&P, painting, gardening or decorating my new home.

My edition was a 1942/1970 Sandstone Publishing one, translated and abridged (yikes! how did that slip by me at the time?) by Princess Alexandra Kropotkin. I raced through the 696 pages, skim reading a lot of it. I can now barely remember a thing.

Between now and January 1st, I will hunt out an edition that has the 361 chapters, as recommended by Nick, and a better translation. The Princess AK and I did not gel at all last time round.
Your recommendations for translations are greatly appreciated.
#warandpeacereadalong

I will then read a Gen III AWW book for Bill in the middle of January. I haven't decided which one yet, but no doubt it will be one of my slimmer options! Maybe The Pea Pickers by Eve Langley, The Dye House by Mena Calthorpe or one of my Thea Astley's.

January is also the beginning of three months of reading Japanese Literature with Meredith.

I have so many options to chose from, I'm not sure where to even start! But I've been craving Murakami recently, so I may go there and I also a number of new releases that I wouldn't mind getting to whilst they are still new!

In February I will complete my own slow read readalong of Moby-Dick.
Now that I have (finally) learnt how to schedule tweets, I feel that the next readalong I host will feature a consistent quote tweeting strategy.

Whatever book I choose for my next hosted readalong, won't be until the second half of the year. Why, I hear you ask?
The reason why should become abundantly clear as you keep scrolling down!

March through to mid April is a One Hundred Years of Solitude Readalong with Ruth and Silvia.

For the life of me I cannot remember if it's this Marquez that I've read or Love in the Time of Cholera. I guess I will find out on the 6th March!

April, of course, is always saved for Fanda and her marvellous Zoladdiction month. I'm reading my way through the Rougon-Macquart series chronologically.

In 2020 I'm due to read the fourth book, La Conquête de Plassans.

July's reading commitment is for Lisa's Indigenous Literature Week early in the month. I plan to read one from my TBR pile and a new release.

However July is also Paris in July with Tamara, when I love to pull out a Maigret or two and maybe a Balzac.

I finish the year with my very own AusReadingMonth in November.

I do enjoy reading non-stop Aussie books for a month, but I find the blogging schedule exhausting. After talking with Meredith, I've been wondering if a more relaxed three month reading challenge would be easier on me, and also easier for people joining in all around the world.

What are your thoughts on an AusReadingSeason from September through to the end of November?

Naturally, new and unexpected reading opportunities will come up throughout the year.

I may try to use Rachel's History Reading Challenge to read The Anarchy: The Relentless Rise of the East India Company by William Dalrymple. A specific challenge may the only way to get through this chunkster in a timely fashion.

Rachel is also hosting a Wolf Hall Trilogy Readalong for those of us wanting to reread Hilary Mantel's Wolf Hall and Bring Up the Bodies before the final book, The Mirror and the Light is published in March.

I'm very, very tempted, except that my dance card is already pretty full for January and February!

Erica has created a Reading Classic Books Challenge for 2020.

• Reading War and Peace will give me a classic over 500 pages and a book in translation. 
• The Zola will be a classic that takes place in a country other than where you live.
• My Gen III AWW book will count as a classic written by a woman. 
• And no doubt my 2020 CC Spins will help me fill out a few more slots on her list.

Finally, my real life book group.
Our Jan/Feb read will be Marcus Zusak's Bridge of Clay and our March read is Where the Crawdads Sing by Delia Owens.

It's just as well I don't really join in reading challenges anymore!!

The Belly of Paris by Émile Zola

Le Ventre de Paris (also known as The Belly of Paris - a direct translation, or The Fat and the Thin
referring to one of the main ideas explored in the story) is not only an extremely visual story, but a visceral one too.

Zola's descriptions of the food markets at Les Halles are colourful, very detailed and lengthy! He leaves no basket or barrow unturned. Every smell is documented including the decaying, the over-ripe and the composted.

The political and social injustices of the times are also symbolised in the Les Halles markets and reinforced by the various natures of the people who live and work there.

Many of Zola's standard themes are explored here - moral ambiguity, excess, waste, realism, gluttony, materialism, decadence, the haves and the have-nots. Consumerism, in particular, is placed under the Zola microscope in The Belly of Paris, as is the whole idea of spying, voyeurism, surveillance and gossip. Everyone watches everyone else and everyone discusses it with anyone who will listen.

One of the curiosities, for me, in this story and the previous Zola, La Curée is the whole push & pull against the renovation of Paris by Haussmann. On the one hand there is a real sense of loss and nostalgia for 'Old Paris', yet there's also an appreciation of the improved sanitation and open spaces that the clean up achieved. Zola writes about the tension between the corruption and the dynamism inherent in this process in all of his books.

It makes me think of the current concerns many Sydney-siders feel for the major road work and light rail projects happening around the city right now. I hear lots of people bemoaning the changing face of Sydney and the loss of old Sydney and that things will never be the same again. That it will make things worse not better. As a devotee of museums and history, I know that these exact same sentiments were expressed in the 1920's when large areas of The Rocks and North Sydney were pulled down to build the Sydney Harbour Bridge.

No-one in Sydney, or visiting Sydney, could now imagine it without our beautiful, graceful bridge spanning the harbour. It is instagrammed and hashtagged on an hourly basis all around the world. Just like we now love and appreciate the beautiful, graceful boulevards and open spaces created by Haussmann in Paris. Neither city misses the slums or narrow, crowded streets that were razed to create these beautiful new spaces.

At the time, the fear of change and sentimentality stopped many of the locals from seeing the possible beauty or improved functionality that would result from the change. They could not imagine that future generations would be grateful for the sacrifice and upheaval required to update, move forward and 'future-proof' their city.

I'm not suggesting that our current west connex, north connex & light rail projects will ever be considered beautiful, charming and elegant by future generations, that might be stretching the friendship too far, but they will add (in part) a functionality to our city that is currently lacking. Sadly our particular project is not being managed by a larger-than-life character like Haussmann. His bold vision is sadly lacking in Sydney. But then a large factor in his work was to make it easier for governments to police the city and stop the barricades - a practical, controversial consideration that upset many at the time. Yet the Champs Elysee was born. And who could now imagine Paris without the Champs Elysee?

Une Boutique de Charcuterie (1873) by Edouard Jean Dambourgez

To get back to Zola's main theme in The Belly of Paris, though, let's start with Claude Lantier (the artist based on Paul Cezanne) during his 'Battle of the Fat and the Thin' discussion,

In these pictures Claude saw the entire drama of human life; and he ended by dividing everyone into Fat and Thin, two hostile groups, one of which devours the other and grows fat and sleek and endlessly enjoys itself.

'Cain', he said, 'was a Fat man and Abel a Thin one. Ever since that first murder, the big eaters have sucked the lifeblood out of the small eaters. The strong constantly prey on the weak....Beware of the Fat, my friend!'

Gavard is Fat, but the sort that pretends to be Thin....Mademoiselle Saget and Madame Lecœur are Thin, but the kind to beware of - Thin people desperate to be Fat. My friend Marjolin, little Cadine, La Sarriette, they're all Fat. They don't know it yet, because they're so young and innocent. It must be said that the Fat , before they get older, are charming creatures.

Zola not only sees the modern trend in a division between the haves and have nots, the takers and the givers, but relates it back to the very beginning of human story. Since the beginning of time, we have been creating stories to bring to light our differences; what does it say about us, I wonder, that we are still telling the same stories thousands of years later?

Are we slow learners? Do we never learn from the lessons of history? Does every generation have to re-invent the wheel? Or are we just eternally interested in ourselves and our stories?

References to Les Halles are everywhere throughout the story and read like paintings. Fortunately many, many artists have painted these scenes, including the one chosen for the cover of the Oxford University Press edition by Victor-Gabriel Gilbert, The Square in Front of Les Halles 1880.

Brian Nelson in his Introduction explains that Zola 'combines the vision of a painter with the approach of a sociologist and reporter.' Below are a few of my favourite examples.

Les Halles 1895 by Léon Lhermitte

The opening to the Rue Rambteau was blocked by a barricade of orange pumpkins in two rows, sprawling at their ease and swelling out their bellies. Here and there gleamed the varnished golden-brown of a basket of onions, the blood-red of a heap of tomatoes, the soft yellow of a display of cucumbers, and the deep mauve of aubergines.

Les Halles

That church is a piece of bastard architecture, made up of the death agony of the Middle Ages and the birth pains of the Renaissance....There it is with its rose windows, and without a congregation, while Les Halles keep growing next to it.

Les Halles 1879 by Jean Beraud

A huge arcade, a gaping doorway, would open to his gaze; and the markets seemed to crowd up one on top of the other, with their two lines of roof, their countless shutters and blinds...a vast Babylonian structure of metal wonderfully delicate in its workmanship, and criss-crossed by hanging gardens, aerial galleries, and flying buttresses.

Les Halles and St Eustache by Eugene Galien-Laloue

The giant markets, overflowing with food, had brought things to a head. They seemed like some satiated beast, embodying Paris itself, grown enormously fat, and silently supporting the Empire.

Still Life with Cheese 1870's by Antoine Vollon.

The warm afternoon sun had softened the cheeses; the mould on the rinds was melting and glazing over with the rich colours of red copper verdigris, like wounds that have badly healed; under the oak leaves, a breeze lifted the skins of the olivets, which seemed to move up and down with the slow deep breathing of a man asleep.

Favourite Character: Maybe not my favourite character, but certainly, for me, the most memorable was La Belle Lisa 'she was a steady, sensible Macquart, reasonable and logical in her craving for well-being.' Quietly ambitious, determined, hard-working, voluptuous. Lisa embodies the bourgeoisie sensibility of looking out for oneself and turning a blind eye to the larger problems within society as being none of her business and beyond her control to do anything about anyway.

Favourite or Forget: As I slowly read Zola's books in chronological order for Fanda's #Zoladdiction each year, they all become forever burnt onto my memory. The abundance of food descriptions and Zola's play with homographs (trifle, ripening, fruit, sweetly etc) made this one a fun read. I think this particular OWC cover is my favourite of all the Zola covers.

Facts: Le Ventre de Paris was serialised in the daily newspaper L'État from 12 January to 17 March 1873. It's the third book in Zola's Rougon-Macquart series.

La Curée (The Kill) By Emile Zola

La Curée is the second book in Emile Zola's Rougon-Macquart series of books set during the Second Empire in France. I read it this month in honour of Fanda's #Zoladdiction2018. I have many, many thoughts about this story - I'll start off in point form -

• The translation of the title
• Haussmann
• the parks and avenues
• the art - the images - the pictures
• the excess
• Phaedra
• Narcissus
• mythology and myth making
• consumption & speculation
• property bubble, creative accounting, deception, greed, avarice, materialism
• construction - destruction
• the cyclic nature of time/history
• gender
• the ailing Napoleon III
• morality, desire, sexuality
• Dynasty meets the Kardashian's
• book worlds collide

The Quarry (La Curée ) 1856 Gustave Courbet - Museum of Fine Arts Boston

So, the title of the book in English. It has been called The Kill or The Game is Over in most of the book or movie versions that I've found so far. The painting above also gave another twist to the translation which is rather apt as well and fits in with the #Zolastyle theme that Fanda was running this year.

Haussmann was a fascinating character; Paris basically looks the way it does today because of what he did. He opened up avenues and boulevards to create light and space. Beautiful spaces, trees, parks and new buildings were designed to being communities together...at the expense of ripping apart old neighbourhoods. The addition of sewers, fountains and aquaducts made huge improvements for all Parisians but at the time the demolition and construction works were controversial and traumatic.

Avenue de l'Opéra, Camille Pissarro (1898).

There is no doubt that Zola was a master of imagery.
I've already written a post about his descriptions of the Bois de Boulogne, but he also included many magnificent details about the clothing, architecture and the interiors of homes. The excessive materialism and decadent lifestyle has to be read to be believed.

Phaedra: though married to Theseus, Phaedra fell in love with Hippolytus, Theseus's son by another woman (i.e. her stepson). But Hippolytus rejected her. In revenge, she told Theseus that Hippolytus had raped her. What happens next to Hippolytus depends on which version of the myth you read, but the end result is that he died. Themes of rejection, denial, shame, guilt, despair and jealousy - the perfect play for Renee and Maxime to see, although Zola played around with the ending.

Phaedra 1880 Alexandre Cabanel

The Narcissus and Echo tableau vivant (living picture) that occurs in chapter 6 seems utterly bizarre to the modern reader (i.e. me!) What a curious way to host a dinner party. To dress up and pose scenes from well-known myths, stories and legends. The 19th century version of the selfie, I guess.

The excessive consumption and speculation boom that Paris experienced during this era reminded me a lot of what is happening right now in many Western countries. The crazy stupid property bubble that exists in Sydney and Melbourne at the moment is just as ridiculous and just as prone to shady deals and greed and corruption as the one in Zola's Paris.

The women come off badly in this story, especially Renee. Maxime gets to live a guilt-free existence whilst Renee is riddled with doubt and self-reproach. Her behaviour is frowned upon whilst Maxime gets a socially acceptable 'high five' from his dad. Although I like to think that Renee had a moment at the end when she realised how shallow, false and destructive her life style had become. Sadly this reflection didn't lead to any form of happiness, fulfilment or satisfaction for her. C'est la vie.

I hadn't realised how old and doddery Napolean III was by the end of his Empire. Zola neatly shows the Empire decaying and rotting right along with his ageing body.

I was surprised by how much sex there was in this novel. Having read numerous bio's and novels about the Royal families in France over the years, I knew that mistresses and sexual deviation was fairly par for the course at that level of society. It was fascinating to see the post-revolution nouveau riche picking up where the old courtiers left off.

La Curée had all the glitz, big hair and large shoulder pads of Dynasty (are you old enough to remember the 80's TV show)? Combine the Ewing's obscene wealth with the self-conscious, over the top spectacle that the Kardashian clan make of themselves and you'll get some idea of the fake, shallow world inhabited by Zola's characters.

I love it when book worlds collide: as many of you know, I'm doing a chapter a day LesMis readalong. Yesterday's chapter was Vol 2 Book 5 Ch 1 - Twists and Turns. Every now and again, Hugo inserts himself into the story. His most famous one is the 19 chapter diversion back in time to the Battle of Waterloo, but here he has done it again,

For some years past the author of this book, who regrets the necessity to speak of himself, has been absent from Paris. During this time the city has been transformed....But in the process of demolition and reconstruction, the Paris of his youth, of which he cherishes the memory, has become a Paris of the past. He must be allowed to talk of that Paris as though it still existed....

Those places we no longer see, perhaps will never see again but still remember, have acquired an aching charm; they return to us with the melancholy of ghosts, a hallowed vision and as it were the true face of France. We love and evoke them such as they were; and such as to us they still are, we cling to them and will not have been altered, for the face of our country is our mother's face.

Hugo was obviously feeling very nostalgic and sentimental about his home country from his exile on the island of Guernsey. Just like Zola his political views had forced him to leave his birth country (Hugo for 14 years; Zola less than 12 months) and just like Zola he juggled a wife and mistress for much of his adult life.

I love it when one book leads into and informs the next. Without La Curée I would not have known about the Haussmannisation of Paris and would not have know what Hugo was referring to in this section. Timing is everything or as the more romantic Hugo would say, 'some invisible presence was guiding' us!

#Zoladdiction2018
#LesMisReadalong

#ZolaStyle - The Bois de Boulogne in La Curee

April is #Zoladdiction month and this year Fanda is encouraging us to find the art in Zola's writing.

Literal Painting: 

Zola had great interest in paintings. He had been a strong promoter of Impressionism; supported and befriended young artists such as Manet and Cézanne. His literary style often had quality of a painting. Quote and share those literal paintings you find from the book you are reading, or any book you have read; add paintings or pictures too if you like.

This year I'm reading La Curee (The Kill) which is set in Paris during the mid 1860's at the height of the Haussmannisation of Paris. Napoleon III, the self-styled Emperor of the Second Empire 'pursued a policy of modernisation and 'progress'. He determined to make Paris clean and salubrious, and above all 'modern' according to my Introduction by Brian Nelson [1]. Georges Eugene Haussmann was the civil servant charged to bring about these monumental changes.

Huge open boulevards and new apartment blocks were carved through the old streets and suburbs of Paris. Land and homes were ruthlessly appropriated. Trees were planted and new parks were created, but

the real aim of Haussmann's works was the securing of the city against civil war. He wished to make the erection of barricades in Paris impossible for all time. [2]

All of this was achieved via creative accounting!

The Bois de Boulogne was created between 1852-58 from an old meadow that had been allowed to run to wrack and ruin. It is now the second largest park in Paris, situated in the 16th arrondissement. It has lakes, a cascade, two race tracks, greenhouses, a castle, a zoo, an amusement park and a tennis park where the French Open is now held.

Much of the action at the beginning of La Curee occurs around the Bois de Boulogne, where all the newly wealthy folk like to parade, showing off their wares.

The great slice of sky hanging over this small piece of nature caused a thrill, an indefinable sadness; and from these paling heights fell so deep an autumnal melancholy, so sweet and heartbreaking a darkness, that the Bois, wound little by little in a shadowy shroud.

Bois de Boulogne, M.H.Hiver. 1855 

The greensward ran on, with gentle undulations, to the Porte de la Muette, whose low gates, which seemed like a piece of black lace stretched along the ground, were visible in the distance; and on the slopes, in the hollows, the grass was quite blue.

The Satyr in the Bois de Boulogne, Félix Vallotton, 1904

Here and there, on the other side, along the roadway, were late strollers, groups of black dots, making their way slowly back to Paris; and high up, at the end of the procession of carriages, the Arc de triomphe, seen at an angle, stood out in its whiteness against a vast expanse of sooty sky.

Amazzone al Bois De Boulogne, Giuseppe de Nittis, 1874.75.

On the left, at the foot of the narrow lawns intersected by flower-beds and shrubs, the lake, clear as crystal, without a ripple, lay as though neatly trimmed along its edges by the gardeners' spades.

The Path in the Bois de Boulogne, Henri Matisse, 1902

On the drive home, the barouche was reduced to a crawl by the long line of carriages returning by the side of the lake. At one point they had to pull up completely.

Bois de Bolougne, Jean Béraud 

The warm October day, which had given the Bois a feeling of spring and brought the great ladies out in open carriages, threatened to end in a bitterly cold evening.

Allustante Porte Dauphine Bois de Boulogne, Joaquín Pallarés, 1872

The line of carriages was still travelling along the side of the lake, with its even trot and noise like a distant waterfall.

L'avenue du Bois de Boulogne, Georges Stein.

[1] Nelson, Brian, Introduction in The Kill, Emile Zola (Oxford University Press 2008)
[2] Walter Benjamin, Paris, the Capital of the Nineteenth Century, in id., The Arcades Project, trans Howard Eiland and Kevin McLaughlin (Cambridge, Mass, and London: The Belknap Press 1999)

#Zoladdiction

#Zolastyle

Zoladdiction 2018

Zoladdiction with Fanda @Classiclit is underway once again.

For all the details please check out her Masterpost, but it's pretty simple really:

read and enjoy all things Zola during the month of April.

I've now read three Zola's thanks to Fanda and Zoladdiction.

Nana was my first experience with Zola. It left me reeling and wanting more.

Germinal was so good I struggled to write an adequate response.

I then decided to get serious about my Zoladdiction.

I went back to the very beginning to read the Rougon-Macquart series in correct chronological order.

So last year I read The Fortunes of the Rougons (La Fortune des Rougon).

The dilemma this year was whether to read book 2 in chronological order or book 2 in Zola's recommended reading order. In the end the decision was resolved for me when I failed to source a copy of His Excellency (Son Excellence Eugène Rougon) which was Zola's recommended book 2.

Therefore my #Zoladdiction2018 book will be The Kill (La Curee).

The Kill (La Curee) is the second volume in Zola's great cycle of twenty novels, Les Rougon-Macquart, and the first to establish Paris - the capital of modernity - as the centre of Zola's narrative world. Conceived as a representation of the uncontrollable 'appetites' unleashed by the Second Empire (1852-70) and the transformation of the city by Baron Haussmann, the novel combines into a single, powerful vision the twin themes of lust for money and lust for pleasure. The all-pervading promiscuity of the new Paris is reflected in the dissolute and frenetic lives of an unscrupulous property speculator, Saccard, his neurotic wife Renee, and her dandified lover, Saccard's son Maxime.

Fanda has also created a mini-challenge to add extra depth and layers to our reading of Zola.

#ZolaStyle – MINI THEMED CHALLENGE

To add more fun to Zoladdiction, and to encourage more people to read and love Zola, there will be a mini themed challenge; different theme each year. This year we will do #ZolaStyle—exploring his unique literary style, which I have divided into three categories:

Literal Painting

Zola had great interest in paintings. He had been a strong promoter of Impressionism; supported and befriended young artists such as Manet and Cézanne. His literary style often had quality of a painting. Quote and share those literal paintings you find from the book you are reading, or any book you have read; add paintings or pictures too if you like. You can check this post to get more idea about this literal painting.

Naturalism Metaphor

Zola often uses natural things as metaphor. In The Belly of Paris, for instance, cheeses are described as fruits. In Germinal, the mining machine becomes a giant beast; and a steam locomotive transforms into a woman in La Bete Humaine. Quote and post about this naturalism you find from the book you are reading, or any book you have read. Click this link if you need example.

Heredity Problem

As a Naturalist, Zola believed that human psychology is heavily influenced by heredity and environment. He wrote the twenty novels in The Rougon Macquart series to study this. Analyze, discuss, and post the heredity problem of the book you are reading, or any book you have read.

How #ZolaStyle Works

#ZolaStyle challenge is NOT obligatory, you may opt for reading books only.

You may post just one or all category for each book – in as many posts as you want; as often as you like, from 1st to 30th April.

You can use current book you are reading, or any books you have read before. 

Please make sure to use these hashtags: #ZolaStyle #EmileZola#Zoladdiction2018 on your posts.

Each #ZolaStyle post linked up at #ZolaStyle linky will be entered to win book(s) by Emile Zola of your choice max $20 from Book Depository. Yay!

To kick off my own #Zolastyle, I thought I would start with the painting used on the cover of my Oxford University Press edition of The Kill.

Paris Street Rainy Day, 1877 Gustave Caillebotte - Art Institute of Chicago

In his masterpiece, Paris Street; Rainy Day, Gustave Caillebotte brought an unusual monumentality and compositional control to a typical Impressionist subject, the new boulevards that were changing the Paris cityscape. The result is at once real and contrived, casual and choreographed. With its curiously detached figures, the canvas depicts the anonymity that the boulevards seemed to create. By the time it appeared in the third Impressionist exhibition, held in April 1877, the artist was 29 years old, a man of considerable wealth, and not only the youngest but also the most active member of the Impressionist group. He contributed six of his own canvases to the exhibition; played a leading part in its funding, organization, promotion, and installation; and lent a number of paintings by his colleagues that he owned.

— Permanent collection label

My Introduction by Brian Nelson goes into some detail about Haussmann's Paris which I found fascinating as I had no idea about the massive changes and reconstruction that occurred in Paris during the Second Empire.

The Haussmannisation of Paris was, at one level, official state planning on a monumental and highly symbolic scale, glorifying the Napoleonic Empire.

It was also thought to be a way of protecting the city from civil unrest. The creation of long, wide boulevards made it impossible for the people to erect barricades as a weapon against the government. The old rabbit-warren slums were destroyed to 'control the unruly and ungovernable poor'. I found this particularly interesting in light of my current year-long Les Mis readalong, which will eventually lead us, the reader, to the June Rebellion of 1832, and the barricades.

Although we now consider the lovely, tree lined, open avenues of Paris with their uniform architectural style, a thing of beauty and envy, at the time their creation was controversial and very disruptive. It also sparked a huge property speculation boom (much like the one happening in Sydney at the moment).

The new Paris is associated with with vice and promiscuity, but Zola's imagery repeatedly associates the city also with light, the sun, flames, heat and colour - with all the noise and activity of modern life.

So much #Zolastyle and I haven't even started the actual story yet!

#zoladdiction2018

#zolastyle

#emilezola

My Autumn Reads

The Artsy Reader Girl is the new host of the weekly meme Top Ten Tuesday.

Each week she nominates a topic to encourage those of us who love a good list to get all listy.

This week it's all about books I hope to read this spring autumn.

Right now, it feels like we're a long way from autumn.
Sydney is still enjoying hot summery weather with weekend temps soaring high into the 30's (we only use Celsius in Australia so I don't know what that equates to in Farenheit).
A bushfire is destroying homes on the south coast of NSW, junior sport was cancelled and the elderly have been warned to stay inside.
It's hard to imagine the leaves changing colour or snuggling under the covers and wearing jumpers and jeans again.

But when it does, I will be ready with this fabulous list of cosy reads.

My Top Ten Autumnal Reads for 2018:

10.
The Lady and the Unicorn by Tracy Chevalier

A tour de force of history and imagination, The Lady and the Unicorn is Tracy Chevalier’s answer to the mystery behind one of the art world’s great masterpieces—a set of bewitching medieval tapestries that hangs today in the Cluny Museum in Paris. They appear to portray the seduction of a unicorn, but the story behind their making is unknown—until now.

In The Lady and the Unicorn, Tracy Chevalier weaves fact and fiction into a beautiful, timeless, and intriguing literary tapestry—an extraordinary story exquisitely told.

The Lady and the Unicorn tapestry series is currently on show at the Art Gallery of NSW.
I've already seen it once and thanks to my multi-pass ticket I plan to see it a few more times before the exhibition finishes at the end of June.
Until recently I didn't know that Chevalier had written a book based around these famous tapestries.
I didn't enjoy reading Girl With a Pearl Earring, so I'm a little nervous about this one, but I hope it adds an extra dimension to my next visit to the AGNSW.

9.
12 Rules For Life by Jordan B Peterson

What does everyone in the modern world need to know? Renowned psychologist Jordan B. Peterson's answer to this most difficult of questions uniquely combines the hard-won truths of ancient tradition with the stunning revelations of cutting-edge scientific research.

Humorous, surprising, and informative, Dr. Peterson tells us why skateboarding boys and girls must be left alone, what terrible fate awaits those who criticize too easily, and why you should always pet a cat when you meet one on the street.

What does the nervous system of the lowly lobster have to tell us about standing up straight (with our shoulders back) and about success in life? Why did ancient Egyptians worship the capacity to pay careful attention as the highest of gods? What dreadful paths do people tread when they become resentful, arrogant, and vengeful? Dr. Peterson journeys broadly, discussing discipline, freedom, adventure, and responsibility, distilling the world's wisdom into 12 practical and profound rules for life. 12 Rules for Life shatters the modern commonplaces of science, faith, and human nature while transforming and ennobling the mind and spirit of its listeners.

My life is not chaotic, but it is very hectic and harried right now.
A foreward by Norman Doidge is just icing on the cake.
Who wouldn't want to know what the 12 practical & profound rules for life are?

8.
Pachinko by Min Jin Lee

Pachinko follows one Korean family through the generations, beginning in early 1900s Korea with Sunja, the prized daughter of a poor yet proud family, whose unplanned pregnancy threatens to shame them all. Deserted by her lover, Sunja is saved when a young tubercular minister offers to marry and bring her to Japan.

So begins a sweeping saga of an exceptional family in exile from its homeland and caught in the indifferent arc of history. Through desperate struggles and hard-won triumphs, its members are bound together by deep roots as they face enduring questions of faith, family, and identity.

I thought this book was entirely set in Korea, but I found out recently that a large part of the story is also in Japan. Given my upcoming trip to Japan, this book suddenly got bumped up to the front end of my TBR pile. Min Jin Lee is also attending this year's Sydney Writer's Festival.

7.
Memoirs of a Geisha by Arthur Golden

This story tells the extraordinary story of a geisha - summoning up a quarter century from 1929 to the post-war years of Japan's dramatic history, and opening a window into a half-hidden world of eroticism and enchantment, exploitation and degradation. A young peasant girl is sold as servant and apprentice to a renowned geisha house. 

She tells her story many years later from the Waldorf Astoria in New York. Her memoirs conjure up the perfection and the ugliness of life behind rice-paper screens, where young girls learn the arts of geisha - dancing and singing, how to wind the kimono, how to walk and pour tea, and how to beguile the land's most powerful men.

This is the book that tops the Goodreads Best Books About Japan list.
I suspect it also might be the book that travels with me to Japan.

6.
The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle by Haruki Murakami

Toru Okada's cat has disappeared. His wife is growing more distant every day. Then there are the increasingly explicit telephone calls he has recently been receiving. As this compelling story unfolds, the tidy suburban realities of Okada's vague and blameless life, spent cooking, reading, listening to jazz and opera and drinking beer at the kitchen table, are turned inside out, and he embarks on a bizarre journey, guided (however obscurely) by a succession of characters, each with a tale to tell.

I love this series of covers that Vintage ran for the Murakami's.
I've collected most of them over time.

5.
The Tale of the Genji by Murasaki Shikibu

Written in the eleventh century, this portrait of courtly life in medieval Japan is widely celebrated as the world's first novel. The Tale of Genji is a very long romance, running to fifty-four chapters and describing the court life of Heian Japan, from the tenth century into the eleventh.

I'm looking forward to this one a lot.

4.
Ghosts of the Tsunami by Richard Lloyd Parry

Ghosts of the Tsunami is a classic of literary non-fiction, a heart-breaking and intimate account of an epic tragedy, told through the personal accounts of those who lived through it. It tells the story of how a nation faced a catastrophe, and the bleak struggle to find consolation in the ruins.

We will be travelling through the area most affected by the tsunami of 2011.
I would like to read this before visiting so that I can be informed and sensitive to local issues.

3.
Hiroshima by John Hersey

When the first atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima in August 1945, killing 100,000 men women and children, a new era in human history opened. Written a mere year after the disaster, this work offers a heart rending account of six men and women who survived despite all the odds. 

Forty years later, John Hersey returned to Hiroshima to discover how the same six people had struggled to cope with catastrophe and with often crippling disease. His long new chapter, which also considers the dramatic proliferation of nuclear weaponry since the war, provides a devastating picture of the long term effects of one very small bomb.

This is now considered a classic non-fiction title; I can't believe I haven't already read it.

2.
Far From the Madding Crowd by Thomas Hardy

Hardy's powerful novel of swift sexual passion and slow-burning loyalty centres on Bathsheba Everdene, a proud working woman whose life is complicated by three different men - respectable farmer Boldwood, seductive Sergeant Troy and devoted Gabriel - making her the object of scandal and betrayal. Vividly portraying the superstitions and traditions of a small rural community, "Far from the Madding Crowd" shows the precarious position of a woman in a man's world.

My current #ccspin book that I confidently predict I really will read this autumn since I started it last night!

1.
The Kill (La Curee) by Emile Zola

The Kill (La Curee) is the second volume in Zola's great cycle of twenty novels, Les Rougon-Macquart, and the first to establish Paris - the capital of modernity - as the centre of Zola's narrative world. Conceived as a representation of the uncontrollable 'appetites' unleashed by the Second Empire (1852-70) and the transformation of the city by Baron Haussmann, the novel combines into a single, powerful vision the twin themes of lust for money and lust for pleasure.

Fanda is once again hosting her fabulous #Zoladdiction month in April.

If you've ever thought about, wondered about or half-heartedly dreamed of reading a novel by Zola, then this is the time to do it - in the fine company of a wonderful host.

You won't regret it.

This will be my fourth Zola - I'm well and truly hooked!

What will you be reading this autumn (or spring if you happen to be reading this from the other side of the world)?

Stories & Shout-Outs #15

Happy St David's Day! Dydd Gŵyl Dewi!

The 1st of March is the National Day of Wales.

You may be wondering why someone in Sydney would care about such things?

My name is the first give away - Bronwyn (although my variation is a masculine Anglicized take on the traditional Welsh spelling of Bronwen).

My mother's ancestors are the next clue. 

My grandmother's maiden name was Llewellyn, although less salubriously, it was her grandfather who first came to Australia...as a convict (he stole a copper pot).

My Pop had closer Welsh ties.

His dad immigrated to Australia (from Llantrissant via the California goldfields) in the late 1800's.

We are still in touch with the children and grandchildren of his siblings back in Wales.

But all of that is but a distraction from my purpose today.

My purpose today is to get back on blogging track.

I had hoped that life would be a little calmer this year, but so far, the first two months of 2018 have been so crazy busy, my head is threatening to spin right off!

I've always said that I would rather be busy than bored, but I little more downtime wouldn't go astray.

Reading time is okay, but blogging time has taken a real hit.

The #LesMisReadalong is a constant joy.

A chapter a day #slowreading is perfect for me right now, my ability to join in group chats and tweets waxes & wanes though.

With that in mind, I'm proud to announce my upcoming participation in two more reading events.

The 1st of March is not only St David's Day and the first day of autumn (by the calendar) in the Southern Hemisphere, it is also the beginning of #ReadIreland month.

Hosted by Cathy @746books and Niall @Raging Fluff, the idea is to read books by Irish authors.

I posted a survey on twitter asking which one of my Irish writers I should read this month...and the winner was Bernard MacLaverty's Midwinter Break.

#readireland18 

#begorrathon18

I also have a tome of William Trevor's short stories that I might be tempted to dip into again.

If I have time, I may even squeeze in The Green Road by Anne Enright.

April sees the return of one of my all time favourite readalongs -

 #Zoladdiction hosted by Fanda @Classiclit.

I love Austen in August, but my love affair with JA began long, long before blogging and readalongs.

Whereas my love affair with Zola began thanks to Fanda's Zoladdiction month.

I am now trying to read the Rougon-Macquart books in order.

Chronological or Zola-preferred though?

In the end the decision was made easy for me.

Chronologically, book 2 is La Curee or The Kill. I have a copy of this on my TBR pile.

Book 2 for Zola was Son Excellence Eugène Rougon. A book I have yet to source.

Which brings me nicely to the (ongoing) discussion over at The Classics Club about what actually makes a classic. Lots of stimulating thoughts about the nature of time and generational relevance, forgotten classics, who decides what is a classic in the first place, the role of women and translated works...just to summarise quickly. 

I can feel another response percolating away (I wrote a post about this a number of years ago).

Now I just have to find the time to write it!

Will you be joining me/us in any of these challenges?

Or have you found something else to pique your interest right now?