Émile Zola's Thérèse Raquin is a brooding tale of "adultery, murder and revenge" told in shades of grey and muddy greens. Zola certainly knew how to tell an intense, at times almost suffocating story that keeps the reader turning the pages. It was sometimes with dread that I turned those pages in weary expectation of what could possibly come next. To say Thérèse Raquin is a dark story is probably an understatement, but it's a story that's well worth the time and effort.
It might be a good idea to say something about Zola's work and environment before going into details of the story, if only to place him correctly in history and get an idea of what exactly he was trying to do (perhaps this is more for me than you, so please bear with me a moment as I get things straight in my mind). Thérèse Raquin was published in 1867 and was considered Zola's first major work. There was lots of good information in the introduction to this edition that helped put the novel into perspective. A couple of things I found noteworthy to mention. In the early part of the 19th century lifestyles were changing rapidly due to the modernization of manufacturing. The Industrial Age wrought many changes not only economically but also philosophically. A once illiterate society was becoming educated enough to work in factories and this new sector of society sought inexpensive, easy-to-read and entertaining fiction.
"Now, the hitherto fashionable Romantic genres in France--the historical novel with its conscientious local color, the novel with of morbid self-analysis, the sufferings and suicides of young men with not enough to do--meant little to these people with no cultural background whatever and no interests outside their daily work and grievances, the politics, scandals, or crimes of the moment. We all seek in our literature certain things in proportions varying with our own state of education and awareness; we look for recognizableness, for escape from our own humdrum existence, into some new world of wider experience and, whether we admit it or not, for an idealization of ourselves and justification of our points of view and prejudices."
The editor goes on to describe the artistic climate in which Zola was working. Honoré Balzac was changing the literary landscape. He was an early founder of the school of Realism and wanted to portray French society just as it was--good, bad or otherwise. Although science played a role in literature, Balzac infused his work with his own moral, political and relgious views as well. Zola took things a step further when he founded the literary movement of Naturalism. He wanted to write from a purely scientific standpoint. In his preface to the second edition of his book he writes:
"In Thérèse Raquin my aim has been to study temperaments and not characters. That is the whole point of the book. I have chosen people completely dominated by their nerves and blood, without free will, drawn into each action of their lives by the inexorable law of their physical nature."
He goes on to say that each chapter of the book is a "curious physiological case." He sees these two main characters as exactly what they are, throws them into this violent drama and sees how things play out. Although Zola argues for the novel's "scientific demonstration", I'm not sure that he was entirely successful. I still see the story as a morality tale of sorts with a certain retribution being paid at the end.
Okay, so that's a very brief background, at least how I've interpreted things. It's hard to talk about this book without talking about the plot at least in part. I won't give away all the details or the ending, but I might reveal a little more than you'd like to know if you haven't already read the book, so please bear that in mind if you want to continue reading.
When Thérèse Raquin was first published it met not only with success but with scandal for its shocking portrayal of an adulterous couple and the crime they commit without an ounce of remorse. To be honest I did find it a little bit shocking as I read, but Zola is never gratuitous with either the carnal or violent acts in the story. Thérèse Raquin is the daughter of a French soldier and and Algerian woman of great beauty, but after the death of her mother, she's raised by her aunt. Madame Raquin is a doting mother with one son, Camille, who is slightly older than Thérèse. Thérèse is a very sensual woman but also very docile and eager to please her aunt. Camille on the other hand is sickly and dull. He aspires to an office job where he can rise in the ranks to become someone of importance. When Madame Raquin urges the two to marry, they do, despite neither having any real affection for the other.
They move to Paris so Camille can follow his dreams. Madame Raquin opens a haberdashery shop in the Passage du Pont-Neuf with Thérèse's help, and the three live in lodgings above the shop. the Passage is a dank, dreary pedestrian thoroughfare filled with tiny shops. It's less important than the two busy squares it links. "...the small window-panes cast strange greenish mottlings in the goods for sale. The murky shops behind are just so many black holes in which weird shapes move and have their being." While Camille is happy to find clerical work for the railway, Thérèse finds the shop oppressive after living so contentedly in the countryside. She becomes more and more lifeless and turns inward.
One day Camille discovers an old schoolfriend also works for the railway and brings him home. Laurent enlivens things among the three. Handsome but lazy, Laurent would be happy doing nothing much of anything, but despite his shortcomings he has a certain charm. Compared to Camille he is a virile, lusty man and soon Thérèse finds herself drawn to him. After a hasty coupling in the upper apartment of the shop, things are going to take a turn for the worse in the story, as you might imagine.
Guided only by their passions, the two revert to almost animal-like behavior. I wouldn't call it love, but would definitely call it lust that attracts the two. Each sees in the other a way to find happiness, or what they consider happiness. When their assignations are threatened, they contemplate the most extreme solution to their problem. And when one day on the river the solution presents itself, Camille is toppled into it by his friend and wife. Yet Laurent still comes out the hero as he managed to 'save' Thérèse from drowning. It's only a pity he couldn't extend the service to his good friend.
Okay, I think I'll stop here, so I really haven't given much away at all. I'll only say that Zola knows how to ratchet up the tension. The last third of the story is an almost relentless succession of events that pits the lovers against each other. Rather than bringing them closer together, the crime has driven an unyielding wedge between them. The story spirals out of control until the last gripping, horrific scene.
While I want to read more Zola, I think this is an author where I will definitely space out the readings. This was a dark, despairing tale, but an interesting psychological look at two ordinary people and what affect the act of committing a crime has on them. I couldn't help thinking of Georges Simenon's noir thrillers as I was reading it, and wondering if there was any connection. I wonder if this is a case of, without Zola's (fill in the blank), we would never have had this work or that author (fill in the blanks). Or, maybe not, but it's an interesting question to ponder.
I read a little criticism of this work and some other characters and works that were mentioned included Gutave Flaubert's Emma Bovary, Kate Chopin's Edna Pontellier and Theodore Dreiser's An American Tragedy. The first two I'm familiar with and it might be time for a reread for both, and the last one I've been contemplating reading as my next 'long read." So, you see how one book leads to another. (And another).