Emile Zola: "Apostle of the Gutter"

"Apostle of the Gutter," a nickname for Emile Zola, reflects the low esteem that he received in England during his lifetime, despite (or perhaps because) he was the best-selling author of his era. The novel Nana, published in 1880, was surely one inspiration for this insult -- of which I've so far been unable to find the origin though it appeared at least as early as 1899 (link). Zola's detailed descriptions of the lives of poor, disaffected, and conventionally immoral characters are not necessarily as shocking today as they were when first published. However, when I read them, I still find an occasional shock in the depths of how degraded his subjects were, and how miserable were the material conditions of their homes, of the streets where they lived, and of their workplaces.

"Nana" by Édouard Manet, 1868. This painting dates from
before Zola's novel; the name "Nana" was often associated
with courtesans and prostitutes. However, it's easy to see the
connection to Zola's Nana.

Nana, which I read this week, relates the story of a young woman in Paris in the late 1800s with detailed descriptions of her professions: also still a bit shocking. Nana, whom readers had first met as a child in the novel L'Assomoir, has become a high-class courtesan who tempts rich men into indiscretion. She also works as a prostitute who simply sells her body. Famous as an actress, she plays stage roles with success derived from nudity and shamelessness as well as her uninhibited good looks. Further, Zola offers love scenes of Nana in bed with another woman, also a prostitute. The ending of the book which I won't spoil is perhaps even more shocking today than originally, because of the clinical detail of her final illness.

Throughout Nana, Zola expresses his extraordinary perception of the world of five senses, including smell. Consider for example this description of a count entering the workplace of "courtesans" and noticing the not-so-nice side of their life:

"Accordingly on the first-floor landing he leaned up against a wall— for he was sure of not being observed— and pressed his handkerchief to his mouth and gazed at the warped steps, the iron balustrade bright with the friction of many hands, the scraped paint on the walls— all the squalor, in fact, which that house of tolerance so crudely displayed at the pale afternoon hour when courtesans are asleep. When he reached the second floor he had to step over a big yellow cat which was lying curled up on a step. With half-closed eyes this cat was keeping solitary watch over the house, where the close and now frozen odors which the women nightly left behind them had rendered him somnolent. (Kindle Locations 4270-4275).

Or on another of his walks in one of the famous Paris "passages" -- the small arcades with numerous shops that Zola often mentioned:

"He knew all the shops, and in the gas-laden air he recognized their different scents, such, for instance, as the strong savor of Russia leather, the perfume of vanilla emanating from a chocolate dealer's basement, the savor of musk blown in whiffs from the open doors of the perfumers." (Kindle Locations 2983-2985).  

According to one scholar of smell:

"The French 'apostle of the gutter,' Émile Zola (1840– 1902), considerably elevated the 'impoverished language of odors' by including descriptions of the fine nuances of smells in his novels, but his writings also reinforced the stench associated with the modern slum." -- Jonathan Reinarz, Past Scents: Historical Perspectives on Smell, p. 98. 

Portrait of Emile Zola by Édouard Manet, 1868. (Wikipedia)

The characters in Nana seem to approach everything they do -- especially eating -- sensuously and with little self-consciousness. Nana loves all material goods from sapphire necklaces to tasteless household decorations and opulent, extravagant textiles such as clothing, window draperies, and wall hangings, and there are many descriptions of her excitement at receiving gifts, from a small bauble to an entire furnished country home.

Enthusiasm for food is characteristic of Nana and most of the novel's other individuals:

"In the meantime Nana, who averred that she was as hungry as a wolf, threw herself on the radishes and gobbled them up without bread. Mme Lerat had become ceremonious; she refused the radishes as provocative of phlegm. By and by when Zoe had brought in the cutlets Nana just chipped the meat and contented herself with sucking the bones." (Kindle Locations 628-631).  

"M. Venot, whose teeth must have been ruined by sweet things, was eating little dry cakes, one after the other, with a small nibbling sound suggestive of a mouse, while the chief clerk, his nose in a teacup, seemed never to be going to finish its contents." (Kindle Locations 1184-1185).  

"Both ladies took lumps of sugar dipped in cognac and sucked them." (Kindle Location 649). 

And this description of Nana's continuing self-indulgence and (I would say) corruption:

"This was the epoch in her existence when Nana flared upon Paris with redoubled splendor. She loomed larger than heretofore on the horizon of vice and swayed the town with her impudently flaunted splendor and that contempt of money which made her openly squander fortunes. Her house had become a sort of glowing smithy, where her continual desires were the flames and the slightest breath from her lips changed gold into fine ashes, which the wind hourly swept away." (Kindle Locations 6033-6036).  

My enjoyment of the book included some surprises. For example, I learned a number of things about the way that theater performances were supported in the days before electric lights and electrical gadgets:

"Only the front of the stage was lit up. A flaring gas burner on a support, which was fed by a pipe from the footlights, burned in front of a reflector and cast its full brightness over the immediate foreground. It looked like a big yellow eye glaring through the surrounding semi-obscurity, where it flamed in a doubtful, melancholy way." (Kindle Locations 4101-4103). 

In more detail, here's a passage observing stagecraft as Zola saw it. I was especially interested in the literal use of the word limelight, which originally referred to a particular stage-lighting arrangement using incandescent quicklime (calcium oxide) to illuminate the stage:

"The prince did not hurry in the least. On the contrary, he was greatly interested and kept pausing in order to look at the sceneshifters' maneuvers. A batten had just been lowered, and the group of gaslights high up among its iron crossbars illuminated the stage with a wide beam of light. Muffat, who had never yet been behind scenes at a theater, was even more astonished than the rest. An uneasy feeling of mingled fear and vague repugnance took possession of him. He looked up into the heights above him, where more battens, the gas jets on which were burning low, gleamed like galaxies of little bluish stars amid a chaos of iron rods, connecting lines of all sizes, hanging stages and canvases spread out in space, like huge cloths hung out to dry.  

"'Lower away!' shouted the foreman unexpectedly.  

"And the prince himself had to warn the count, for a canvas was descending. They were setting the scenery for the third act, which was the grotto on Mount Etna. Men were busy planting masts in the sockets, while others went and took frames which were leaning against the walls of the stage and proceeded to lash them with strong cords to the poles already in position. At the back of the stage, with a view to producing the bright rays thrown by Vulcan's glowing forge, a stand had been fixed by a limelight man, who was now lighting various burners under red glasses. The scene was one of confusion, verging to all appearances on absolute chaos, but every little move had been prearranged." (Kindle Locations 1984-1994). 

To finish with a quote from a critic:

"Against the background of social satire and documentary realism Nana stands out as a fantastic creation, less a 'real' woman based on actual and identifiable models than the Woman, the Temptress and Seducer, who lures men irresistibly to their ruin." (source)

NOTES:

• References from Nana in this post are from a downloaded edition from Project Gutenberg (link). 
• I'm sending this post as a contribution to the ongoing blog event "Paris in July," hosted at the blog Thyme for Tea (link). 
• All text is copyright by Mae at maefood dot blogspot.com. Painting reproductions are from Wikipedia. If you are reading this at another blog, it's been stolen.