Capitalism in Zola’s Germinal
27 Tuesday Aug 2013
Posted by jodesmith in Literary Criticism
Tags
analysis, Bourgeoisie, Capitalism, criticism, Etienne, French Revolution, Germinal, literature, Maheu, Marx, Naturalism, Proletariat, scientific, Zola
Image of Zola from http://www.theguardian.com/books/2010/jun/19/emile-zola-germinal-ruth-scurr (This is an interesting article in itself if anybody would like more background on Germinal)According to Karl Marx, the capitalist system provided a stimulus to the development of the productive forces, but systematically impoverished the masses. This created a class of exploited industrial workers, the proletariat, who would eventually overthrow capitalism and emancipate humanity (in da Sousa Correa, 2000, p.386). Marx’s theory suggests that a capitalist system was beneficial to those who held power in society, the bourgeoisie, at the expense and exploitation of the proletariat. Through close analysis, and a consideration of the naturalist genre, I will examine Zola’s Germinal (1884-5) and argue that whilst it does not endorse the values of a bourgeois society, it nevertheless refutes the Marxist theory of inevitable victory for the proletariat.
Zola’s Germinal is a French naturalist novel written when society was experiencing the repercussions of the French Revolution. It examines the lives of its characters, and explores their efforts to instigate fundamental change within the society in which they live. According to the naturalist doctrine, the narrator should be omniscient whilst simultaneously creating a distance between themselves and their fictional world. In addition, naturalism is the scientific approach of not only exploring people’s actions, but determining the cause of them. Zola was integral to the development of naturalism; however, Lukács stated that Zola’s scientific method was a ‘grey statistical mean’ which created ‘average’ characters (in Regan, 2001, p.384). For Lukács, the distancing effect, produced by the narrator’s dispassionate observing of events, detached the novel from real life, and therefore naturalism was inferior to realism in its exploration of social change. However, many of Germinal’s fictional devices challenge Lukács’ ‘grey statistical mean’. For example, Zola’s narrator describes the way in which the mine ‘seemed to take on the sinister air of a voracious beast, crouching ready to pounce and gobble you up’ (Zola, [1884-85] 1993, p.7). Such employment of mythical imagery and symbolism portrays the mine as a beast devouring the workers yet never appeasing its appetite. This effectively represents the mine as the site of destructive capitalism where labour is transformed into money at the expense of the worker.
Furthermore, David states that ‘[t]he modern gods of capitalism and industrialization are pitted against’ the miners (in da Sousa Correa, 2000, p.366). With this in mind, the company, who have shares in the mine, are referred to in Godlike terms throughout the novel, and this epitomises the power they hold over the miners. It also highlights the physical distance between the bourgeoisie and the proletariat; the miners not only work below ground, but metaphorically live below bourgeois society. Therefore, the mine becomes, as Howe notes, ‘the physical emblem of the impersonality of commodity production’ (in Regan, 2001, p.390). Thus, by exposing the suffering of the workers and their families before introducing the potential for a strike, Zola subtly manipulates the reader’s sympathy, and subverts the conventional lack of passion associated with naturalism.
Germinal focuses on one family in particular: the Maheus. In the opening description of the Maheus’ home, the narrator provides the reader with an aerial view of mining village Two Hundred and Forty; the reader sees it from ‘over the deserted plain’, and the village is personified as ‘slumbered in the depths of night’ (Zola, [1884-85] 1993, p.15). The narrator then observes that all is quiet except ‘the wailing of the wind’ (Zola, [1884-85] 1993, p.15), and this sensory effect brings the reader closer to the village. The focus gradually shifts from the aerial view to the inside of the Maheus’ house, but instead of allowing the reader to feel any intimacy with the inhabitants, the perspective descends deeper into darkness; ‘[t]he single first-floor bedroom was cloaked in thick shadows’ (Zola, [1884-85] 1993, p.15). The reader’s anticipation of discovering any familiar domestic associations is further disrupted by the ‘smell of human cattle’ (Zola, [1884-85] 1993, p.15). However, the reader’s expectations are progressively assuaged by a secure sense of time as ‘the cuckoo clock… [strikes] four o’clock’, and this is then followed by the introduction of familiar domestic sounds, ‘the whistle of faint breathing, accompanied by two deeper snores’ (Zola, [1884-85] 1993, p.15). The narrative perspective subsequently fixes on Catherine, the eldest daughter. However, the reader again meets frustration as they are denied access to Catherine’s consciousness, and instead, in line with the naturalist doctrine, the narrator begins a detailed factual description of Catherine’s living conditions and daily routine.
The following chapters of Part One serve to reinforce the reader’s sense of the miners’ poor living and working conditions, and these are then juxtaposed with those of the Grégoires’. Similarly to his description of the Maheus’ house, Zola begins his depiction of the Grégoires’ home with an aerial view. It is described as a ‘large square house of no particular style’, and ‘[o]f the vast lands which had originally depended on it, there were little more than thirty hectares left’ with ‘no formal park, only a small wood’ (Zola, [1884-85] 1993, p.75). The employment of negative diction implies that the Grégoires’ house is not as exquisite as it was in previous years. However, although the narrator does not explicitly pass a decisive judgement, the reader is already aware of the awful conditions the miners are exposed to, and therefore Germinal is structured so that the reader cannot ignore the contrast between the proletariat and the bourgeoisie. Thus, Zola deviates from his own aspiration of conveying ‘facts, not emotional pleas’ (in Regan, 2001, p.392) and, in doing this, manipulates the reader’s sympathies.
In his critical writing, Zola stated that he was concerned with determining ‘the conditions necessary for the manifestation of phenomena’ (in Regan, 2001, p.392), and he utilises this concept by considering the influence of both heredity and environmental factors on his characters’ actions. To illustrate, he does not wholly condemn the bourgeoisie for their relationship to capitalism, but instead portrays them as being innocently ignorant due to ‘generations of comfortable luxury’ (Zola, [1884-85] 1993, p.490). Nevertheless, a further antithesis is drawn by the way in which Cécile Grégoire is able to ‘breathe such fresh air’ (Zola, [1884-85] 1993, p.486) in contrast to Catherine Maheu being a victim of the ‘hereditary submissiveness…[of]…all the girls of her race’ (Zola, [1884-85] 1993, p.130), and being required by necessity to spend most of her days in ‘pitch darkness’ (Zola, [1884-85] 1993, p.36). An additional heredity factor which plays an important role in the novel is Etienne’s ‘rebellious temperament’ which tempts ‘him to embrace the struggle of labour against capital’ (Zola, [1884-85] 1993, p.142). This ‘rebellious temperament’ is Etienne’s hamartia, and when this fatal flaw is combined with the miners’ poor living and working conditions, Etienne transforms into a powerful catalyst who initiates the strike. It is interesting to note that Etienne’s identity is initially held in abeyance; he is first introduced to the reader as ‘a solitary figure (Zola, [1884-85] 1993, p.5), but his identity begins to take shape following his experience of life in village Two Hundred and Forty and he decisively takes control of the strike. True to the conventional naturalist approach, Zola’s narrator withholds direct judgement by allowing Etienne’s thoughts to continue uninterrupted in free indirect discourse; ‘Wasn’t it a superb achievement, to have launched this campaign through which justice would at last triumph?’ (Zola, [1884-85] 1993, p.142) Although free indirect discourse distances the narrator from the intentions of the character, Zola’s employment of hyperbole implies that Etienne’s goals are unrealistic; ‘In another six months they would have conquered the earth’ (Zola, [1884-85] 1993, p.142). Moreover, Etienne’s comment echoes Marx’s suggestion that the proletariat would eventually overthrow capitalism and emancipate humanity, but his frequent hyperbolic statements reveal the way in which he feels superior to the miners whom he is fighting for. Thus, the politics of Germinal resonate less with Marx’s suggestion of eventual victory for the proletariat, and more with Howe’s ‘myth of emergence’; new leaders will arise to replace the old ones and the proletariat will remain beneath society (in Regan, 2001, p.390).
Etienne’s hyperbolic speeches inspire a revolutionary fervour, and the proletariat begins to ‘emerge from the sleep of history’ (Howe in Regan, 2001, p.389). For example, Maheu’s voice grows stronger in his meeting with the manager, and he becomes the symbol of the alienation of the proletariat within capitalist society. The manager comments that Maheu’s ‘family has worked down the mine since the first shaft was sunk’ (Zola, [1884-5] 1993, p.217) and this reinforces the idea that submission has been a heredity factor in the miners’ lives. In addition, Zola argued that ‘the social cycle is identical with the life-cycle’ and if ‘one organ putrefies it spreads rot to the other organs’ creating a ‘complicated disease’ (in Regan, 2001, p.381). Zola puts this theory into practice by demonstrating the way in which the revolutionary fervour not only inspires, but eventually ‘putrefies’, and ‘spreads rot’ through the impoverished miners. To illustrate, the miners undergo a transformation from individuals into a collective mob, and the narrator describes their three thousand voices as a ‘tempest … fill[ing] the heavens’ (Zola, [1884-5] 1993, p.291). This striking metaphor intensifies the destructive effect that capitalism can produce, and such devastating consequences are observed in the confrontation between the miners and the shopkeeper, Maigrat. Maigrat’s power to give and refuse credit, coupled with his commodification of women as adequate payment for goods, directly links him to capitalism. When he falls to his death during the strike, the women claim retribution for their ‘endless starvation’ by stuffing earth ‘violently … into his mouth’, and they revenge the way in which he has exploited and ‘stuff[ed]’ their daughters by castrating him (Zola, [1884-5] 1993, pp.366-7). Thus, the revolutionary fervour has putrefied and the miners have transgressed the boundaries of justice.
The strike culminates in the confrontation and subsequent shooting at Le Voreux where many miners lose their lives, including Maheu. Thus, the ‘smell of human cattle’, in the opening chapters of the novel, prefigures the way in which the miners run ‘desperately through the mud … like a herd of stampeding cattle’ attempting to escape their slaughter (Zola, [1884-5] 1993, p.431). Does this mean that, as Howe notes, Zola does not endorse the ‘vulgar-Marxist notion of an inevitable victory’ (in Regan, 2001, p.392), but rather a fatalistic vision that the miners will never escape the ‘weight of… [their] …fate’? (Zola, [1884-85] 1993, p.517) I would argue that, although their defeat seems inevitable, the miners develop an underlying passion. For example, La Maheude has lost her husband and three of her children throughout the course of the novel, but when Etienne expresses his sympathy for her in the denouement, her ‘pale cheeks’ flush and ‘her eyes start … to gleam’ (Zola, [1884-5] 1993, p.517). This is representative of the miners’ belief that ‘another Good Lord would spring up and avenge the needy’, and implies that their ‘hereditary submissiveness’ is no longer certain (Zola, [1884-5] 1993, p.518).
Ultimately, despite the suffering of the miners and the fatal outcome of their strike, Zola’s subtle manipulation of the reader’s sympathies deviates from naturalism, and Germinal successfully challenges and destabilises the values of a bourgeois capitalist society. However, Germinal’s much celebrated final lines leave the reader with conflicted feelings. On the one hand, the metaphor of the countryside’s ‘belly swelled with a black and avenging army of men, germinating slowly in its furrows, growing upwards in readiness for harvests to come’ emanates a sense of optimism (Zola, [1884-5] 1993, p.524). On the other hand, the final line again echoes the Marxist notion that the ‘ripening’ of the proletariat would eventually ‘burst open the earth itself’ (Zola, [1884-5] 1993, p.524). This hyperbolic imagery shares a striking parallel with Etienne’s initial aspiration of ‘conquer[ing] the earth’ and, by evoking the memory of the devastating consequences of the failed uprising, Zola causes the reader to question the optimistic closure.
Bibliography
David, N. (2000) ‘Germinal: the naturalist novel’ in da Sousa Correa, D. (ed.) The Nineteenth Century Novel Realisms, Milton Keynes, The Open University, p. 366.
Lukács, G. (1946) ‘The Zola Centenary’ reprinted in Regan, S. (2001) The Nineteenth-Century Novel: A Critical Reader, London, Routledge, pp. 379-387.
Marx, K. (1818–83) in da Sousa Correa, D. (ed.) The Nineteenth Century Novel Realisms, Milton Keynes, The Open University, p. 386.
Zola, E. [1884-5] 1993, Germinal, trans. By Collier, P. with an introduction by Lethbridge, R. OxfordWorld’s Classics, Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Zola, E. reprinted in Regan, S. (2001) The Nineteenth-Century Novel: A Critical Reader, London, Routledge, p. 381-392.
Germinal focuses on one family in particular: the Maheus. In the opening description of the Maheus’ home, the narrator provides the reader with an aerial view of mining village Two Hundred and Forty; the reader sees it from ‘over the deserted plain’, and the village is personified as ‘slumbered in the depths of night’ (Zola, [1884-85] 1993, p.15). The narrator then observes that all is quiet except ‘the wailing of the wind’ (Zola, [1884-85] 1993, p.15), and this sensory effect brings the reader closer to the village. The focus gradually shifts from the aerial view to the inside of the Maheus’ house, but instead of allowing the reader to feel any intimacy with the inhabitants, the perspective descends deeper into darkness; ‘[t]he single first-floor bedroom was cloaked in thick shadows’ (Zola, [1884-85] 1993, p.15). The reader’s anticipation of discovering any familiar domestic associations is further disrupted by the ‘smell of human cattle’ (Zola, [1884-85] 1993, p.15). However, the reader’s expectations are progressively assuaged by a secure sense of time as ‘the cuckoo clock… [strikes] four o’clock’, and this is then followed by the introduction of familiar domestic sounds, ‘the whistle of faint breathing, accompanied by two deeper snores’ (Zola, [1884-85] 1993, p.15). The narrative perspective subsequently fixes on Catherine, the eldest daughter. However, the reader again meets frustration as they are denied access to Catherine’s consciousness, and instead, in line with the naturalist doctrine, the narrator begins a detailed factual description of Catherine’s living conditions and daily routine.
The following chapters of Part One serve to reinforce the reader’s sense of the miners’ poor living and working conditions, and these are then juxtaposed with those of the Grégoires’. Similarly to his description of the Maheus’ house, Zola begins his depiction of the Grégoires’ home with an aerial view. It is described as a ‘large square house of no particular style’, and ‘[o]f the vast lands which had originally depended on it, there were little more than thirty hectares left’ with ‘no formal park, only a small wood’ (Zola, [1884-85] 1993, p.75). The employment of negative diction implies that the Grégoires’ house is not as exquisite as it was in previous years. However, although the narrator does not explicitly pass a decisive judgement, the reader is already aware of the awful conditions the miners are exposed to, and therefore Germinal is structured so that the reader cannot ignore the contrast between the proletariat and the bourgeoisie. Thus, Zola deviates from his own aspiration of conveying ‘facts, not emotional pleas’ (in Regan, 2001, p.392) and, in doing this, manipulates the reader’s sympathies.
In his critical writing, Zola stated that he was concerned with determining ‘the conditions necessary for the manifestation of phenomena’ (in Regan, 2001, p.392), and he utilises this concept by considering the influence of both heredity and environmental factors on his characters’ actions. To illustrate, he does not wholly condemn the bourgeoisie for their relationship to capitalism, but instead portrays them as being innocently ignorant due to ‘generations of comfortable luxury’ (Zola, [1884-85] 1993, p.490). Nevertheless, a further antithesis is drawn by the way in which Cécile Grégoire is able to ‘breathe such fresh air’ (Zola, [1884-85] 1993, p.486) in contrast to Catherine Maheu being a victim of the ‘hereditary submissiveness…[of]…all the girls of her race’ (Zola, [1884-85] 1993, p.130), and being required by necessity to spend most of her days in ‘pitch darkness’ (Zola, [1884-85] 1993, p.36). An additional heredity factor which plays an important role in the novel is Etienne’s ‘rebellious temperament’ which tempts ‘him to embrace the struggle of labour against capital’ (Zola, [1884-85] 1993, p.142). This ‘rebellious temperament’ is Etienne’s hamartia, and when this fatal flaw is combined with the miners’ poor living and working conditions, Etienne transforms into a powerful catalyst who initiates the strike. It is interesting to note that Etienne’s identity is initially held in abeyance; he is first introduced to the reader as ‘a solitary figure (Zola, [1884-85] 1993, p.5), but his identity begins to take shape following his experience of life in village Two Hundred and Forty and he decisively takes control of the strike. True to the conventional naturalist approach, Zola’s narrator withholds direct judgement by allowing Etienne’s thoughts to continue uninterrupted in free indirect discourse; ‘Wasn’t it a superb achievement, to have launched this campaign through which justice would at last triumph?’ (Zola, [1884-85] 1993, p.142) Although free indirect discourse distances the narrator from the intentions of the character, Zola’s employment of hyperbole implies that Etienne’s goals are unrealistic; ‘In another six months they would have conquered the earth’ (Zola, [1884-85] 1993, p.142). Moreover, Etienne’s comment echoes Marx’s suggestion that the proletariat would eventually overthrow capitalism and emancipate humanity, but his frequent hyperbolic statements reveal the way in which he feels superior to the miners whom he is fighting for. Thus, the politics of Germinal resonate less with Marx’s suggestion of eventual victory for the proletariat, and more with Howe’s ‘myth of emergence’; new leaders will arise to replace the old ones and the proletariat will remain beneath society (in Regan, 2001, p.390).
Etienne’s hyperbolic speeches inspire a revolutionary fervour, and the proletariat begins to ‘emerge from the sleep of history’ (Howe in Regan, 2001, p.389). For example, Maheu’s voice grows stronger in his meeting with the manager, and he becomes the symbol of the alienation of the proletariat within capitalist society. The manager comments that Maheu’s ‘family has worked down the mine since the first shaft was sunk’ (Zola, [1884-5] 1993, p.217) and this reinforces the idea that submission has been a heredity factor in the miners’ lives. In addition, Zola argued that ‘the social cycle is identical with the life-cycle’ and if ‘one organ putrefies it spreads rot to the other organs’ creating a ‘complicated disease’ (in Regan, 2001, p.381). Zola puts this theory into practice by demonstrating the way in which the revolutionary fervour not only inspires, but eventually ‘putrefies’, and ‘spreads rot’ through the impoverished miners. To illustrate, the miners undergo a transformation from individuals into a collective mob, and the narrator describes their three thousand voices as a ‘tempest … fill[ing] the heavens’ (Zola, [1884-5] 1993, p.291). This striking metaphor intensifies the destructive effect that capitalism can produce, and such devastating consequences are observed in the confrontation between the miners and the shopkeeper, Maigrat. Maigrat’s power to give and refuse credit, coupled with his commodification of women as adequate payment for goods, directly links him to capitalism. When he falls to his death during the strike, the women claim retribution for their ‘endless starvation’ by stuffing earth ‘violently … into his mouth’, and they revenge the way in which he has exploited and ‘stuff[ed]’ their daughters by castrating him (Zola, [1884-5] 1993, pp.366-7). Thus, the revolutionary fervour has putrefied and the miners have transgressed the boundaries of justice.
The strike culminates in the confrontation and subsequent shooting at Le Voreux where many miners lose their lives, including Maheu. Thus, the ‘smell of human cattle’, in the opening chapters of the novel, prefigures the way in which the miners run ‘desperately through the mud … like a herd of stampeding cattle’ attempting to escape their slaughter (Zola, [1884-5] 1993, p.431). Does this mean that, as Howe notes, Zola does not endorse the ‘vulgar-Marxist notion of an inevitable victory’ (in Regan, 2001, p.392), but rather a fatalistic vision that the miners will never escape the ‘weight of… [their] …fate’? (Zola, [1884-85] 1993, p.517) I would argue that, although their defeat seems inevitable, the miners develop an underlying passion. For example, La Maheude has lost her husband and three of her children throughout the course of the novel, but when Etienne expresses his sympathy for her in the denouement, her ‘pale cheeks’ flush and ‘her eyes start … to gleam’ (Zola, [1884-5] 1993, p.517). This is representative of the miners’ belief that ‘another Good Lord would spring up and avenge the needy’, and implies that their ‘hereditary submissiveness’ is no longer certain (Zola, [1884-5] 1993, p.518).
Ultimately, despite the suffering of the miners and the fatal outcome of their strike, Zola’s subtle manipulation of the reader’s sympathies deviates from naturalism, and Germinal successfully challenges and destabilises the values of a bourgeois capitalist society. However, Germinal’s much celebrated final lines leave the reader with conflicted feelings. On the one hand, the metaphor of the countryside’s ‘belly swelled with a black and avenging army of men, germinating slowly in its furrows, growing upwards in readiness for harvests to come’ emanates a sense of optimism (Zola, [1884-5] 1993, p.524). On the other hand, the final line again echoes the Marxist notion that the ‘ripening’ of the proletariat would eventually ‘burst open the earth itself’ (Zola, [1884-5] 1993, p.524). This hyperbolic imagery shares a striking parallel with Etienne’s initial aspiration of ‘conquer[ing] the earth’ and, by evoking the memory of the devastating consequences of the failed uprising, Zola causes the reader to question the optimistic closure.
Bibliography
David, N. (2000) ‘Germinal: the naturalist novel’ in da Sousa Correa, D. (ed.) The Nineteenth Century Novel Realisms, Milton Keynes, The Open University, p. 366.
Lukács, G. (1946) ‘The Zola Centenary’ reprinted in Regan, S. (2001) The Nineteenth-Century Novel: A Critical Reader, London, Routledge, pp. 379-387.
Marx, K. (1818–83) in da Sousa Correa, D. (ed.) The Nineteenth Century Novel Realisms, Milton Keynes, The Open University, p. 386.
Zola, E. [1884-5] 1993, Germinal, trans. By Collier, P. with an introduction by Lethbridge, R. OxfordWorld’s Classics, Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Zola, E. reprinted in Regan, S. (2001) The Nineteenth-Century Novel: A Critical Reader, London, Routledge, p. 381-392.
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