Lisa's Reviews > Thérèse Raquin
Thérèse Raquin
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by
Lisa's review
bookshelves: 1001-books-to-read-before-you-die
Jun 25, 2014
bookshelves: 1001-books-to-read-before-you-die
Read 2 times. Last read June 8, 2018 to June 11, 2018.
Smiling!
Realising the inappropriate reaction to my second reading of Zola's early duel with murderous passion, I try to look concerned or appalled or just plain disgusted, like his contemporary audience.
In his preface, he complains about the critics hating the novel for all the wrong reasons. And now I begin to think I might be loving it for all the wrong reasons instead.
Zola claims to have looked at the strong and passionate reaction of two lovers killing an inconvenient husband with the eyes of a medical doctor, objectively describing their brutal behaviour and their lack of ethical responses the "way they naturally are, guided purely by their flesh, their corporal desires":
"J'ai simplement fait sur deux corps vivants ce que les chirurgiens font sur les cadavres."
He bitterly rejects the critics who denounce the characters' depravation without understanding why the author chose to show them like that.
All very well.
I was prepared for a naturalistic analysis of murderers and their sexual motives, and a dull description of a non-existent conscience. But just like I wasn't prepared for the wildness of Wuthering Heights when I reread it recently, I wasn't expecting the ghost story that Zola tries to sell as a serious case study either.
Laurent, the lover of Thérèse, kills her husband Camille in order to enjoy the convenience of a legal sex life and a comfortable financial status. While pushing the resisting friend into a river from a boat, he receives a bite on his neck, which remains as a scar and a "bite of conscience" - "ein Gewissensbiss" it is quite literally in German.
Instead of living happily ever after the perfect crime, the lovers turned spouses spiral into grotesque madness and evil, suffering through their lives with the image of the victim, before engaging in a final danse macabre in front of the murdered Camille's paralysed mother. In death, they unite with Camille through the touch of the scar.
All very Gothic, all very dramatic, all very symbolic.
All very realistic? Nah!
Despite himself, Zola created an almost religious morality tale of crime and punishment. He took away god from the equation, and put the human body in its place, but the result is the same: the impossibility to shake off sin and to live calmly with a "bad" conscience, be it located in body or soul.
In a way, his draconian writer ego is harsher than most deities, and he strikes his characters where it hurts most: he makes them impotent and incapable of pleasure.
So Zola, my dear friend, I apologise for liking your story for the wrong reasons, and for smiling at your defence of naturalism in this tragedy in several acts, leaving all protagonists dead by murder or suicide in the final showdown on stage.
Recommended - probably for the wrong reasons!
Realising the inappropriate reaction to my second reading of Zola's early duel with murderous passion, I try to look concerned or appalled or just plain disgusted, like his contemporary audience.
In his preface, he complains about the critics hating the novel for all the wrong reasons. And now I begin to think I might be loving it for all the wrong reasons instead.
Zola claims to have looked at the strong and passionate reaction of two lovers killing an inconvenient husband with the eyes of a medical doctor, objectively describing their brutal behaviour and their lack of ethical responses the "way they naturally are, guided purely by their flesh, their corporal desires":
"J'ai simplement fait sur deux corps vivants ce que les chirurgiens font sur les cadavres."
He bitterly rejects the critics who denounce the characters' depravation without understanding why the author chose to show them like that.
All very well.
I was prepared for a naturalistic analysis of murderers and their sexual motives, and a dull description of a non-existent conscience. But just like I wasn't prepared for the wildness of Wuthering Heights when I reread it recently, I wasn't expecting the ghost story that Zola tries to sell as a serious case study either.
Laurent, the lover of Thérèse, kills her husband Camille in order to enjoy the convenience of a legal sex life and a comfortable financial status. While pushing the resisting friend into a river from a boat, he receives a bite on his neck, which remains as a scar and a "bite of conscience" - "ein Gewissensbiss" it is quite literally in German.
Instead of living happily ever after the perfect crime, the lovers turned spouses spiral into grotesque madness and evil, suffering through their lives with the image of the victim, before engaging in a final danse macabre in front of the murdered Camille's paralysed mother. In death, they unite with Camille through the touch of the scar.
All very Gothic, all very dramatic, all very symbolic.
All very realistic? Nah!
Despite himself, Zola created an almost religious morality tale of crime and punishment. He took away god from the equation, and put the human body in its place, but the result is the same: the impossibility to shake off sin and to live calmly with a "bad" conscience, be it located in body or soul.
In a way, his draconian writer ego is harsher than most deities, and he strikes his characters where it hurts most: he makes them impotent and incapable of pleasure.
So Zola, my dear friend, I apologise for liking your story for the wrong reasons, and for smiling at your defence of naturalism in this tragedy in several acts, leaving all protagonists dead by murder or suicide in the final showdown on stage.
Recommended - probably for the wrong reasons!
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Reading Progress
Finished Reading
June 25, 2014
– Shelved
August 9, 2014
– Shelved as:
1001-books-to-read-before-you-die
June 8, 2018
–
Started Reading
June 11, 2018
–
Finished Reading
Comments Showing 1-28 of 28 (28 new)
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That makes me happy, Konstantin - one never needs a specific reason to giggle in my opinion! A bit of cheerfulness goes a long way, especially if it is related to books :-)
I’m not certain that we should do anything. Perhaps this is the best outcome Antje. (Eine meiner Töchter heißt Antje.)
Nana is a good pick as well, Steven!
I am happy it convinced you, Dolors!
I’m not certain that we should do anything. Perhaps this is the best outcome Antje. (Eine meiner Töchter heißt ..."
:D
Oh, now you bring back my fond memories, Ilse! Doktor Glas! Yes, that is a peculiar story as well...
Morbid fascination is a perfect summary of Therese Raquin, Fiona!
We're a generation of lost sinners, Fran! Unshockable...
"In a way, his draconian writer ego is harsher than most deities, and he strikes his characters where it hurts most: he makes them impotent and incapable of pleasure."
A very profound insight. Naturalists and scientific determinists tend to think of God as some evil myth, but they often fail to take into account how their own myths sound... Even regardless of any religious/moral view, it is really cool to see how Zola tried to write this purely natural novel and it came out something quite like the opposite. That must mean something in itself!
"In a way, his draconian writer ego is harsher than most deities, and he strikes his characters where it hurts most: he makes them impotent and incapable of pleasure."
A v..."
Well, all creation myths are the works of storytellers taking the role of powerful creators, and that goes for any stories and any genres. The funny thing, in my opinion, is that Zola tried to hide the effort of creating fiction behind a "natural" description, but he completely overdid it in order to make an aesthetic statement. In the case of most so-called "holy" texts, the same thing happens when the authors try to hide behind a "reveiled truth". Not claiming such absolute and objective description of reality make the fictional storylines more interesting, rather than less.
Gods make good story characters too - mirroring the egos of the writers ;-)
Yes, there is definitely a raven tapping - figuratively speaking!
"In a way, his draconian writer ego is harsher than most deities, and he strikes his characters where it hurts most: he makes them impotent and incapable of p..."
A powerful and very intelligent assessment of literature in general, Lisa. It's clear you see writing at multiple levels, which I find is rare.
Viewing religious mythology through the lens of literature, and therefore religious icons as literary characters, is extremely interesting to me. (Harold Bloom preaches this a lot, lest you think I would dare take credit for the idea.) Once something is written down it becomes fiction, despite the efforts of the writer, but as metaphor fiction can be useful in ways "truth" or "real life" cannot be, and thus literature, sacred or secular, when executed in a certain way (depending on individual taste) can have spiritual worth-- n'est pas?
I think of Samuel Beckett when it comes to these ideas, how he struggled with knowing that everything he wrote was false in a sense because it wasn't "real" and yet he had a compulsion to continue writing--it must point to some drive or inspiration that is necessary for the human condition, which I believe is ultimately the healing power of metaphor. Seeing different authors navigate this is one of the biggest joys to be found in reading. Thanks for the reply and the review!
I will eagerly wait for your impressions, Jane!
Klingt sehr vielversprechend, könnte mir gefallen (das Buch meine ich).
Klingt sehr vielversprechend, könnte mir gefal..."
Natűrlich! Was denn sonst? 😇
The story didn't fully rang true to me (it was more like a stage tragedy than a calmed study of human behaviour), but it is the slum naturalist novel in one of its best examples. Excellent review - I couldn't help myself but giggle "for all the wrong reasons". :)