#germinalclub

[arcadianambivalence]

#Germinalclub: 2.1 & 2.2

I’m a little behind, so here’s Part 2, chapters 1 and 2:

Chapter 1

It’s like reading Part 1, Chapter 2 all over again, but now in La Piolaine, the name of the Gregoire family’s home.  La Piolaine used to be a large estate but has been stripped down to its essentials after the Revolution.

Interestingly, the Gregoire family used to be stewards to the original owners of La Piolaine.  Mme. Gregoire was a pharmacist’s daughter before “marrying up.”

But after climbing the social ladder, the Gregoires are less willing to help others up to their station.  They give clothes and food to the needy, which is good, but it’s not nearly enough.  They don’t give money to pay off debts, something that is especially upsetting for the Maheu family as we’ll see in Chapter 2.

One interesting tidbit about the Gregoires is that they have central-heating, but they still use (the good) coal anyway—unlike the Maheu family that is given leftover coal that doesn’t burn very well.

The Gregoires appear to be frugal in everything except their daughter Cecile, which means they are sitting on a gold mine of stocks instead of selling them for cash like cousin Mr. Deneulin did (which has eventually placed him in trouble).

Speaking of Mr. Deneulin, he arrives to visit his extended family and tell them a bit of gossip about Paul Negrel from Part 1.  Paul is likely to marry Cecile—but he’s having an affair…with his uncle’s wife.  (And knowing that, they still want Cecile to marry him?!)  This is going to be one of those stories that deliberately avoids healthy and happy relationships, isn’t it?

As for childlike Cecile, she was, as Zola puts it, raised under “happy ignorance” to the point that she could simply give up trying to study a subject with her many tutors, and her parents would accept it.  Compare this to Catherine, who is very proud of her ability to read and write, even if she had to stop going to school by her teenage years.

Zola also describes the Gregoires as having an almost religious faith in the mine (versus Etienne’s vision of the mine as an evil deity).  That said, they are not so keen on The Board, which is interesting.

Chapter 2

This chapter steps back a few hours to when La Maheude wakes up a second time and gathers her littlest kids to take with her on her errands.

Little Alzire takes care of the baby, Estelle, instead of going to school.  Zola continues his bad pattern re: descriptions of womanhood here.  He describes this twelve-year-old child’s “woman’s knowledge of the tender wiles that would sooth and distract” the baby.  While this could be his way of showing how kids in this situation are forced to grow up early, the use of the word “wiles” and its association with womanhood doesn’t ease any of my concerns.

I really feel for La Maheude in this chapter as she constantly sorts out how to get by on the bare minimum amount of food with the little to no money or credit she has.

The grocer (Maigrat)’s shop is right next to the Hennebeau residence. Mr. Hennebeau manages the mine, and like the people controlling the mine, Maigrat also abuses the workers.  

Mining families can use credit for food, but this adds up over the years.  Maigrat is willing to lower the debt…if the family uses an attractive female family member as a commodity.  He even sets his eye on Catherine…

Unsurprisingly, Maigrat is in the company’s pocket, even though he no longer works as a supervisor there.  He is another foil, this time to Rasseneur, owner of The Advantage bar.

During her errands, La Maheude comes across the town priest, Father Joire, who pointedly avoids her gaze and hurries away without helping her.  Joire, Zola notes, tries to avoid disagreeing with anyone, and thus does not help the poor.

La Maheude takes the kids to La Piolaine to receive help from the Gregoires.  This chapter also reveals the source of the Maheu family’s financial woes. Several years ago, they fell behind on payments due to a wage-stoppage from a strike, and since then, they can never catch up.

When La Maheude and two of her kids reach the Gregoire residence, they  are shown in to the parlor to speak with the family during Cecile’s “little deed” of giving them clothes.

During their conversation, M. Gregoire actually has the gall to “explain” to La Maheude that “it must be said that the workers are not always sensible” when it comes to money.  This from the man who lets his daughter throw her books out the window during her expensive tutoring sessions.  

La Maheude treads the line between agreeing with the Gregoires and bringing them to see the bigger picture, all while trying to remind them of her economic needs.  The Gregoires don’t care to listen.

The chapter ends with Cecile sending off La Maheude with some of her old clothes and the children with tiny slices of brioche.  Let them eat cake.

[grande-ere]

Germinal 1.4

In this chapter, we get a first impression of what working in the mine actually means. Especially the hewers’ work is horrible: they have to lie on their backs in a narrow space in order to be able to hack away the coal, leading to them literally walling themselves in. On top of the physical work, temperatures can go up to 35°C, there is not enough air to breathe, they constantly breathe in the coal dust, “vapours which [hang] heavy on the eyelids”, and the apparently ever-present methane gas. In Maheu’s case, water is dropping on his head constantly, making it difficult to see and getting painful as time progresses. But even the supposedly “easy work” that Catherine and Étienne do is extremely physically taxing: Catherines “joints [are] creaking, but she [doesn’t] complain” as she pushes the tub, and Etienne is completely exhausted and needs to lie down by the time they have lunch.

We learn that the mine (or at least the chimney) is roughly ten years old. The area where the characters are working is in constant danger to collapse -- we see Zacharie being worried about it, but also Maheu being completely desensitized to it. “Alright, so it might cave in!” The oaken supports propping up the ceiling are beginning to cave in, while in vicinity of the seam, no new ones have yet been put up even though the workers are progressively hollowing out the walls. The reason for this is given immediately: The workers have to do it themselves during their working hours, and as they work in teams and have to meet a certain tally of tubs, there is simply no time for it. We also learn that the recording clerk can reject a tub of coal if Catherine and Étienne are not careful to only load clean coal, and that not meeting the tally might result in "the return of their contract [being ruined]”.

Étienne goes to a series of emotions rather quickly when it comes to Catherine. One moment, he thinks she’s twelve and that “he [isn’t] attracted to her”, seemingly two minutes later he assumes she’s fourteen and wants to “grab her in his arms and kiss her on the lips”. And here I was, thinking we were safe. To make it worse, Chaval then kisses her “brutal[ly]” to ~stake his claim~ in front of Étienne. To make it even worse, Étienne is v sad and wounded because she ~led him on~. To make it even more worse, Catherine thinks that she doesn’t even have a chance to make a decision here.

When Étienne explained that he had hit his former boss in drunken rage, my first thought was that it was probably a story to cover up something else. Maybe it’s due to the translation, but he sounded to me very much like he was making it up on the spot in that moment. (I don’t know, I just thought it was interesting that this was my reaction.)

As for La Mouquette: @arcadianambivalence asked for thoughts on her characterization and I’ve been thinking about it in this chapter -- mostly because I really can’t judge the tone with respect to her. My first impression in the last chapter was that the narrative treated her pretty much neutral and didn’t present any kind of judgement. However, after this chapter, I’m not sure anymore -- I kind of felt like now Catherine (talking of an evil spirit who strangles “naughty girls”) was set up as a sort of morally upholding counterdraft to her? This also tied in with her telling Étienne “the most awful stories” about La Mouquette -- possibly, this is Étienne being shocked at Catherine knowing about ~these things~ though. I’d really like to know how the tone here would have been perceived by a contemporary reader.

“...her expression was gently submissive, as if she were getting ready to submit to the ways of the world and its menfolk” is another line where I’d like to know the authorial intent. Is it...supposed to sound...slightly creepy?

[arcadianambivalence]

#Germinalclub: 1.3 Thoughts

Full disclaimer: I’ve already read Germinal, so I can’t promise any discussion here won’t include vague references to what happens later in the novel.  If you’re reading this for the first time and don’t want even a hint of what’s to come, I’d suggest skipping this post.

Part I, Chapter III

The star imagery continues with the lamp in the checkweighman’s office.  Likewise, the comparisons of humans to animals and the pit to a beast increase in this chapter.  

Zola writes the elevator to the coal pit as an esophagus carrying people through the mine.  Everyone’s a beast and no one is human under this company.

Etienne enters a disorienting maze of deadly machinery as he looks for work. After learning about how the mine goes over five hundred feet deep, Etienne panics.  His instincts tell him to run, and he almost makes it out...then he runs into the Maheus.

Last chapter, we saw how the mine negatively impacts the workers, yet Touissant tells his kids that they are lucky to have a job at the mine instead of wandering in search of work like Etienne.  A bad job is better than nothing.

But Touissant eventually helps Etienne get work as a putter.  Etienne is so relieved, he grabs Catherine’s hands, thinking she is a boy.  This is an interesting way to have two of our main characters interact for the first time...

The cringe factor increases: Etienne literally cracks a “is that your elbow, or are you happy to see me?” joke to Catherine, but Etienne’s fish-out-of-water status is the real punch line of this chapter.

The characters interact with another female character, called La Mouquette, who is a putter like the Maheus.  She can’t be much older than Catherine, but Zola emphasizes this character’s sexuality to an alarming degree.  Does anyone have any thoughts about how La Mouquette is characterized?

Another new character, the deputy Richomme, used to be one of the workers and is still sympathetic.  When Touissant complains, he warns him, “Walls have ears.”  Terrifying conditions that treat people like animals: acceptable. Complaining about these conditions: unacceptable.

As Etienne and the Maheus descend into the mine, Touissant explains the layout of the mine, complete with the unnerving fact that the elevator shaft needs work because it’s starting to leak.

During the journey through the seam, Etienne has already banged his head, scraped up his back, and bruised his legs—and he hasn’t even started work yet!

I should note the gender dynamics here.  Many mining families push girls to work in the mine to help provide for the family.  As a man, Etienne’s employment would, in the words of the worker Chaval, “steal the girls’ bread out of their mouths.”

As for Chaval, he immediately dislikes Etienne, who wastes no time becoming his enemy for life in return.

Between the monstrous machines, the long drop to the bottom of the mine, and every claustrophobic’s nightmare of a trek, this chapter should be used to explain how to write horror through sensory details.  It’s like a roller coaster to Hell!

[grande-ere]

Germinal 1.6

The chapter starts out with Étienne firmly resolute to never enter “that hell-hole” again. After being washed into this hostile and terrifying landscape in the middle of the night, getting his job by chance, and experiencing the descend into the mine and struggling through his first work day, this beginning seems “sobered up” in a sense that gives everything that happened underground a somewhat surreal, nightmare-ish feeling. “Now it was merely bare and dirty” -- it is described similar to something that would be frightening at night, but is something mundane upon waking up, or even something that seems other-wordly but the magic of which is lost in daylight. 

Tying back to the discussion about Zola’s animal imagery, there was a quote that caught my attention with respect to it: “he ought to get away from it there; for, with his superior education, he didn’t feel the same resignation as the rest of the herd...” I was wondering whether this is narrative commentary or how Étienne feels about the other workers. Additionally, this was definitely one of the times where it did feel condescending to me.

We get to know two new characters: Rasseneur, a former worker who was fired after being a protest leader in a strike three years previously, and his wife, who is described to want “to hold out for her rights, and settle for nothing less”. I hope she stays in the cast and we learn more about her!

Miscellaneous:

The workers sorting through the wagons that are being sent up are paid by the basket, effectively and deliberately pitting them against each other. 

Rasseneur believes that the company lowering the prices is a sign of business going bad, similar to how another local pit is “unable to make ends meet”.

[arcadianambivalence]

#Germinalclub: 1.2 Thoughts

Full disclaimer: I’ve already read Germinal, so I can’t promise any discussion here won’t include vague references to what happens later in the novel.  If you’re reading this for the first time and don’t want even a hint of what’s to come, I’d suggest skipping this post.

“Surrounded by the fields of corn and beet, the mining village called Two Hundred and Forty lay sleeping beneath the black sky...”

Within the first sentence, we see the lack of identity and individuality through the town’s name: Two Hundred and Forty, one of many mining towns so indistinct, they’re given numbers instead of meaningful names.

The company had each house given a garish combination of decorations: pine furniture, prints of the Emperor and Empress on the walls, etc. Basically, the Maheu’s house is dressed nicer than they are.

The Maheu family sleeps crowded in the house.  Fifteen-year-old Catherine is first to rise, exhausted, but cheerful.  Zola describes her in detail, but as noted by Maraudeuse, it feels less like a “look how hot she is” description and more of a “look what the mines have already done to her” description. The physical toll of the environment and malnutrition is seen in the other children, too.

The eldest children (Catherine, Zacharie, and Jeanlin) and Touissant prepare for the morning shift at the mine.  When Touissant and his wife wake up in the morning, they almost immediately begin to discuss the issue of money and dwindling food.  If they’re not working, they’re doing emotional labor.

This family (and likely all families in this town) is allowed the bare minimum to survive on: bread, cheese, butter, coffee grounds from the shop, cabbages grown in the yard, and contaminated water. Even the coal the company so charitably treats them with is second-rate.

Zacharie is twenty-one and has two kids with the neighbor, Philomene, but they probably don’t make enough to live together and take care of the kids on their own. Catherine, on the other hand, already takes on a parent-like role.  She is the one who wakes everyone up in the morning and assembles sandwiches for the working family members.  I don’t know if this was meant to be a social commentary on gender dynamics or if it shows how children in this town don’t get to be children...and young adults don’t really get to be young adults, either. People are workers first and foremost, human beings second.

As Touissant and his eldest children leave for the mines, the candles in each house in the village are going out like dying stars, and once again, we approach the mine in utter darkness.

[pilferingapples]

Taking all these at a block, since I'm joining a little late!

The first couple chapters sort of remind me of The Jungle-- there's the same sense of the imminent looming apparatus of capital devouring labor, described in terms that evoke a living hungering creature.  

Etienne and the Maheus aren't nearly as naive as the main family of The Jungle, though; but they're  too desperate to escape the obvious open trap of the mines anymore than Jurgis can escape the Packing Plants. 

I like the contrast between Etienne's fresh horror at the mines and the way the Maheu family have become acclimated to it-- though not to the  point of being as unquestioning as Etienne seems to think at first. 

I love the first chapter of the Maheu household waking up-- everyone still tired, sort, financially pressed to the wall and short on patience and temper from it, but also still joking around with each other and trying to make it through all together.  The combination of Catherine and her younger brothers still very much being kids and goofing around, and also too familiar with hard work and the personal business of adults comes across really well. 

... I don't even know how to express my extreme discomfort with the way Catherine's sexualized after that. I totally buy that she and all the other tram girls are sexually harassed at work, their sexuality both something expected to be offered on demand and a subject of ridicule; I don't object to that being shown, but the narrative seems to be so fully invested in taking the view of the men doing the harassing in this.  Y'all are reading it too, you know what I mean.  This is necessarily going to be a book full of brutalities and offenses against people's human dignity, but overall I feel the narrative is sympathetic about it, inviting me to feel the suffering of the people in the story (and very good at doing that, gad,  the chapters below-ground in the mine are suffocating to read) .  But when it's about the sexual harassment of the women in the story, the narrative voice seems to only want me to consider the feelings of the men, joining in with them in objectifying the female characters (Catherine as a trophy for dominance, etc) and it's really alienating.  And maybe worse because otherwise they're so well  written and real!

That aside (and it's a pretty big That!) Zola's writing is really gripping. It would be weird to say I'm exactly enjoying a book where I spend most of my time wanting to shriek and smack someone with a picket sign, but the feeling of growing, unbearable pressure on the workers and between them,  inevitably bound to vent or explode, is very well sustained.

And I find I like his animal imagery; it's not just for the people but the machines , and the system, and I like the feeling it gives the story of this being a vital sort of struggle, an issue of life and death instead of a more removed, theoretical thing.  It's powerful and puts the workers and the system on a certain shared level despite the obvious different in power. IDK, more thoughts on it later I'm sure!

The way that Etienne is all ready to bolt, and the way Rasseneur, former leader of strikes and protests, quickly found his own way once out of the mines, hints at another issue at play in the labor struggle-- anyone who can get out on their own has a lot of reasons to do so, instead of pitching in and fighting to make this particular awful situation less awful. That tends to leave the people who have, or feel they have, the very least social power already, making organization harder. Hmm But the miners are clearly not unaware of what's being done to them, even if they try to handle it with jokes and intentional obliviousness; Maheu knows that Rasseneur is healthier for getting out of the mine. It adds to the sense of this being an impossible situation ; the mine owners depend on the ignorance and fatalism of the miners in no small way, to keep things going The Way They've Always Gone. (And yet, that comment from Bonnemort -- "Not everyone is dying of overwork!"-- shows how bound the workers still feel by their poverty.)   

Rasseneur is an interesting addition here, narratively-- someone who not only left the mine but is flourishing and making a career out of defying the owners, and still sympathetic and involved with the workers' concerns.  It gives the workers someone on their side who's got a little more independence already, which tilts the feeling of the story away from this being a totally hopeless fight, as minor as that advantage is 

(Incidentally, it also offsets some of the NO DON'T GO IN THE BASEMENT horror I felt when I thought Maheu was taking Etienne to a loan shark.  Rasseneur may actually be a fair offer of credit, from everything we've seen, instead of  a Payday Loans style scam.) 

I am really tense to see what happens next, and had to stop myself from reading ahead! 

Side note: I like Levaque, Bouteloup, and The Wife sharing what seems to be a mutually aware threesome?  the narrative may prove me wrong but so far it seems like it's only the neighbors who think anyone's fooling anyone there. 

[arcadianambivalence]

#Germinalclub: 1.5 Thoughts

Full disclaimer: I’ve already read Germinal, so I can’t promise any discussion here won’t include vague references to what happens later in the novel.  If you’re reading this for the first time and don’t want even a hint of what’s to come, I’d suggest skipping this post.

“Noisy protests greeted the proposal, and the spirit of rebellion began to germinate here in this tiny space some six hundred meters below the surface of the earth...”

The chapter is off to an unpleasant start: the hewers have hit loose earth that increases the risk of live burial.  Given how often this horrific danger is mentioned, you just know we’re going to see this happen in a horrific way before the book is over.

The men complain about the Company and Dansaert, the overman, but Maheu is anxious of repercussions if someone overhears.  As if on cue, Dansaert and the engineer Paul Negrel walk by overhead. The hewers seem to think that these two spend their days listening to the workers for any sign of insurrection.

Paul Negrel is the nephew of Mr. Hennebeau (the mine’s manager).  Zola describes him as “slim and good-looking,” then undercuts the description (that would match a typical hero) with Negrel’s “skeptical air which become one of curt authority when we was dealing with the workers.”  Despite (or to balance out) the way he talks down to the workers, he dresses like them and is generally the first one to enter the site of rock-falls or firedamp disasters.

Negrel and Dansaert are here to see Etienne because he was not hired the usual way.  But instead of talking to Etienne, the two examine his face like he is a work horse, then admonish the hewers and Catherine for accepting a complete stranger into the workforce.

In response to this admonishment, some of the characters urge them to accept more male putters, which seems like a reversal of what we’ve seen in previous chapters.

Before Negrel and Dansaert leave, though, they rebuke Maheu for the state of the planks propping up the roof.  These planks are perhaps the only things keeping the loose earth from collapsing around our characters.  

Here, Negrel and Dansaert say something interesting.  Instead of urging everyone to keep the planks sturdy for safety’s sake, they talk about how if the hewers die, the Company will have to pay their families a pension.  “For the sake of two more tubs a day you’d all rather get yourself killed,” they say.  Everything goes back to the convenience of the Company to them.  They don’t seem to recognize the injustice that the workers are so desperate to support their families, they have to value the chance of earning their wages over their own safety.

Chaval begins to argue that if the Company raised the workers’ wages, they wouldn’t have to prioritize output instead of safety, but Negrel silences him with an ultimatum that would basically make the workers earn less than they already do.  After Negrel leaves, Dansaert yells at the workers for getting him in trouble with the Company.  This chapter might as well be called “The Chain of Screaming.”

To rub salt in the wound, the workers are fined three francs and have to take time away from mining to reinforce the planks.  With this news, the workers begin to complain, but not enough to get them in more trouble.  Zola points to the “sense of hierarchy” that keeps everyone from rebelling.  Of the group, only Etienne seems to acknowledge the spirit of resistance stirring in him.  

But that does not mean the others are not angry or try passive-aggressive rebellion.  After strengthening the planks, everyone leaves a few minutes early and makes the long journey back to the elevator.

They can’t leave yet, though. Pierron, who operates the elevator, is under strict instructions not to let anyone up until the end of the shift.  He, too, is afraid of punishment.

Catherine shows Etienne the underground stables for the work horses, “well-fed workers whom everybody loves.”  Throughout the rest of the chapter, Zola sprinkles unsettling descriptions of the lives of the horses between descriptions of the characters to draw a parallel between their experiences.  

Etienne continues to think of Catherine as if they are already in a relationship.  He has spent one work day with her as she shows him the ropes like a decent, compassionate person—and he takes it to mean they are meant to be together.  I promise he doesn’t stay this way!

They come across La Mouquette, so was so tired from her work (and, Zola hints, her sexual excursions the previous day) that she actually punched herself until she had a bloody nose and could lie down in the stable to rest.  I mentioned in my notes on Chapter 3 that Zola’s description of La Mouquette irks me, and this chapter has not improved the way Zola emphasizes her sexuality (in contrast to characters like Chaval and Dansaert, who are also sexually active like La Mouquette but have dialogue and motivation involving work).

Back at the elevator, Chaval and Levaque have spread word of Negral’s threat to lower the price per tub (and thus lower wages).  This plants the seed of rebellion in the workers, who accuse the company of killing half of the workers with the mine’s conditions and letting the others die of starvation from low wages.  Etienne listens.

The deputy Richomme, however, pretends not to listen. Although he is an authority figure like Negrel and Dansaert, he is sympathetic.  “When you haven’t got the fire-power,” he says, “it’s always best to hold your peace.”

Again, as if they had heard everything, Negrel and Dansaert arrive and take the elevator to the surface before any of the workers can leave. Everyone falls silent and waits for the elevator to return.

[grande-ere]

Germinal 1.5

The last chapter illustrated how physically taxing and hard the work in the mine is in general. The reader could already see that the workers gain an extremely low wage for the work that they have to do, that they are paid based on their team's output, and that they have to do upaid maintainance work on the mine (which is a very nice way to phrase it -- the corridors will collapse, burying them underneath, if they don't put up props and timber the walls during their regular work hours). In this chapter, there are several instances that show up how on top of that, they are treated unfairly and exploitatively, as seen by Négrels lines of argument:

The workers did not properly secure the walls and ceilings -- this is because they don't properly understand their work and can't judge the safety issue

In case the corridor really does collapse, the mining company will have to pay for the damage and pay the incapacitated workers a pension or support their wives -- therefore, by not doing the maintanance, the workers are willfully harming the company ("as long as you can get away with it, you think it's none of your business!")

The workers would "cut off [their] arms to fill up a couple of extra tubs a day" -- is he implying that they're greedy here?

For not doing the maintanance, a fine of three francs will have to be cut from their payment (compared to them earning 30 sous each a day and about 25 sous=1 franc iir)

Maheu calmly explaining that they are not being paid for this additional work backfires: Négrel declares that from now on, they are going to be paid separately, but the difference will be taken off the payment per output. The "audacity" of asking for proper payment therefore leads to them being overall paid even less.

We also get a glimpse of some interesting characteristics of the people we already know at this point:

Levaque is said to be "obsessed with the idea that he [is] being spied on" -- however, a minute later, the pit engineer and the overman do arrive, so maybe he's just cautious or has had the most experience.

Négrel, the foreman, tries to appear to the workers as a co-worker by dressing like them and showing presence in the mine, but at the same time is "authoritarian" and "intolerant" towards them. Basically, on first glance, he's just like..."that" type of boss, y'know.

Maheu stays calm faced with Négrels accusations and also naturally seems the one to respond on behalf of the whole group.

The pit is organised by a "military command structure". Throughout the chapter, we see several instances of the effects of it, with the deputy pretending not to hear the protest until he can no longer ignore it or the person operating the elevator refusing to get the team up out of fear of punishment for it. Interestingly, the pit engineer Négrel holds more power than the overman Dansaert, but Dansaert seems to be more hated among the workers. Maybe it's because Dansaert is more present or because he has to actually oversee the measures inflicted by his superior.

Miscellaneous:

Working times seem to be from after four in the morning (when they get up) to one

There might be something about the horses being "wellfed, healthy beasts, the workers that everyone liked"

Négrel and Danseart get to go on the elevator alone in the end, making everyone else wait even longer

Dansaert has a "wide, sensual nose" and I just can't with 19th century physiognomy

At the very least, the narrative calls Étienne out for sulking "irrationally" about Catherine, but my notes for "she already swung her hips like a little tramp" just read "Jesus Christ"

[arcadianambivalence]

#Germinalclub: 1.4 Thoughts

Full disclaimer: I’ve already read Germinal, so I can’t promise any discussion here won’t include vague references to what happens later in the novel.  If you’re reading this for the first time and don’t want even a hint of what’s to come, I’d suggest skipping this post.

“This particular seam was so thin, barely fifty centimeters at this point, that they found themselves virtually crushed between roof and wall; they had to drag themselves forward on their elbows and knees...”

The claustrophobic nightmare continues this chapter as the group begins to work.  Crammed into the coal seam, the hewers (Zacharie, Levaque, Chaval, and Touissant) are grown men lying on their sides and jabbing the walls with picks because they can’t fit otherwise.  The coal they pry from the walls falls into piles around them.  The more coal they dig up, the smaller their little pocket of space becomes.

This work swells the workers’ joints, makes their body temperatures fluctuate, covers their skin with coal dust, and causes their bones to ache, yet they continue working for hours in order to be paid.  Their wages are based off their output.

Being a kind and helpful person, Catherine teaches Etienne how to work as a putter.  Pushing carts back and forth forces them to crawl like animals through the tunnels.

The kids who work in the mines are foul-mouthed and boisterous.  Instead of enjoying childhood, these children are inhaling coal dust and carrying the loads of adults.

Like most of the young workers, Catherine looks like a small child instead of a pubescent fifteen year-old. Despite this, she has had to grow up quickly.  She knows more about the facts of life than was expected for middle-class and upper-class girls of the time.  In fact, Etienne is shocked by how blunt and informed she is.  In another novel by another author, their roles would be reversed: he would be the experienced man and she the awkward, naive young woman.

That said, someone does try to force this dichotomy with Catherine: it’s Chaval, the man who took an instant disliking to Etienne last chapter.  He walks over to her as she eats lunch, grabs her, and forces a kiss—as if it’s nothing, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.  Instead of being upset for Catherine, Etienne gets jealous (because of course Catherine’s kindness is an invitation for a sudden romance to him).  Catherine tells Etienne that it means nothing to her, that Chaval is just playing around. It’s unsettling how she tries to normalize his behavior.  Have other characters done the same to her?

Everyone returns to work, so desperate for payment that they will submit to these conditions, no matter the toll on their bodies, their dignities, or their lives.

[grande-ere]

(woops, I totally thought we were doing a chapter each day, not every other... sorry for rushing ahead everyone!)

[grande-ere]

Germinal 1.3

Aaaand with this chapter we’re descending into Hellmouth. Dinner’s ready!

I didn’t understand whether the deputies telling Étienne to “wait for Monsieur Dansaert, the overman” held any significance -- it seemed almost ominous at the time, but in the end, he got the job by chance alone without the overman playing much of a role. So I’m a bit confused as to whether this was foreshadowing of some kind or not.

The next bullet point from my notes just reads “I’m probably imagining everything all wrong” which refers to the machinery, so...I’ll try to look up some pictures on the weekend and move on for now. “...without Étienne gaining any idea how these complex manoeuvres were achieved” -- at least I’m not alone in this! On a side note, here’s a picture of a Davy lamp. I suppose the introduction could have told me this, but all of the descriptions sound like they were written based on notes Zola made when actually visiting coal mines for research. Étienne’s confusion while first descending into it sounds like it might be the author’s own.

I picked up on the workers walking barefoot -- in the last chapter, I was actually confused because it was described in some detail what everyone was putting on, but the shoes seemed to be missing. 

I also haven’t quite understood how everyone’s work is actually organized. Maheu hires Étienne (with the overman’s consent) because otherwise “their output would suffer”, so it seems like he is responsible for this group -- but is this an official responsibility or a case of “if no one sees to the group being complete, we just won’t bother hiring replacement"? Related to that -- Fleurance’s death being announced in such a nonchalant conversation, then Étienne being hired on the go and “[her] shovel ready waiting for him” heavily drove the point home that they’re all replacable -- tying in with the cattle and food comparisons throughout the chapter.

The deputy (I really am confused by the different jobs and hierarchy), Richomme, an ex-miner, warns Maheu not to complain too loudly because the “walls have ears”.

The mining shaft is 554 metres deep and the descent takes a minute -- meaning they go at 9.2 m/s or 1811 feet/min which is roughly in the range of what I’ve seen skimming through a “The world’s 8 fastest elevators” article. So it's no exaggeration that it must feel like falling. As an illustration, 9.2 m/s equals the maximum speed you reach when free falling from a 4.3 m tall object.

[grande-ere]

Germinal 1.2

With the first chapter ending with Étienne changing his mind and asking for a job at Le Voreux, this chapter seems like we’re supposed to get a glimpse into what he is signing up for. At the same time, through Bonnemort we already have a connection to the family we’re seeing now. What stood out for me throughout the chapter was mostly how realistic the dynamics and relationships between the siblings seemed to me. All of their interactions seemed very vivid to me.  Additionally, Catherine and Jeanlin seemed very much the age they’re supposed to be -- there was no sign of the narrative depicting them as “old for their age”. When Catherine was first described, I was worried for a second that we were in for another paragraph à la Hugo on fifteen year-old Cosette. Therefore, I’m wondering now if this paragraph was intentionally subversive, as in wanting the reader to believe it was going to be a flowery description of a young heroine, but then describing the tolls her life has already had on her instead -- or if it’s just a case of me being traumatized by Hugo.

I’m also wondering to what extent the family we see in this chapter is a typical example of household organisation. Apparently, the children start working at a certain age (some time between nine and eleven) together with their father (and, in this case, grandfather). Maheu says that his wife’s job, on the other hand, is to stay home, “rake up the food”/handle the financials, and to take care of the children that are too small to work yet. Does anyone know how exemplary this is?

Apart from that, the complete lack of privacy stood out to me, as well as -- for some reason -- the brightly coloured walls. I suppose I had some other image in mind that clashed with them. Is this something, like, the mining company builds and furnishes the houses and while at it, paints the walls apple-green to lift the spirits? They did donate the picture of Napoléon III and Eugénie after all...

Fortnight pay day is shit. How are they going to make it through the week?

[arcadianambivalence]

#Germinalclub: 1.1 Thoughts

Full disclaimer: I’ve already read Germinal, so I can’t promise any discussion here won’t include vague references to what happens later in the novel.  If you’re reading this for the first time and don’t want even a hint of what’s to come, I’d suggest skipping this post.

A Note on Germinal

Zola wrote this as part of his twenty-three book Rougon-Macquart saga, but you don’t have to read the previous twelve books to understand this one.  

The book series follows two branches of a family during the Second Empire (Think: Napoleon III to the Franco-Prussian War).  It is Zola’s study of how genes and the environment affect various members of an extended family.

Germinal’s protagonist, Etienne Lantier, has a small part as a child in the twelfth book, L’Assommoir, which concerns his mother, her career, and her eventual alcoholism.  Each book in the series discusses a different element of society, and Germinal focuses on a small mining town.

Part I, Chapter I

Now that that’s out of the way, here are my thoughts on the opening chapter:

“Out on the open plain, on a starless, ink-dark night, a lone man was following the highway from Marchiennes to Montsou, ten kilometers of paved road that cut directly across the fields of beet...”

We begin with a man crossing a metaphorical Purgatory and reaching the mouth of Hell.  Hungry, cold, and unemployed, Etienne Lantier walks through the countryside of northern France in search of work after a brawl with his boss (we’ll learn more about this later) leaves him destitute.

It is a dark, chilly night in March, but the warmth of morning is still a distant, desperate hope.  (Btw, Germinal, comes from the French Republican calendar’s name for the first month of spring.  It’s the equivalent of late March through late April.)

When he sees lights from a mine (Le Voreux), Etienne leaves the road to warm his hands by the fire.  Outside the mine, he meets Vincent Maheu, nicknamed Bonnemort for his survival of multiple near-death experiences in the mine.  

Bonnemort tells Etienne about himself: how his family has worked the mine for several generations, how he has been at the mine for fifty years and is close to retirement, how the economic situation in the countryside has deteriorated, and how the miners know very little about the mysterious company they work for.

As he speaks, Bonnemort regularly breaks off to cough up coal:

“I’ve got enough coal inside this carcass of mine to keep me warm for the rest of my days.”

We get a taste of the grim humor used to cope with the horrible conditions in the town.  There’s a sense of a dismal future for everyone in Montsou, even if we’ve met only one of the people.

I think it’s important to note that Bonnemort is able to talk with Etienne at all because the extraction cage bringing up tubs of coal is stuck, so he has to wait for everything to start up again.

As they talk, Bonnemort and Etienne have to shout over the howling wind.  It seems to carry the cry of the people over the land, giving a voice to the otherwise silent masses.

Meanwhile, Etienne keeps repeating “So long as we’ve got something to eat” while staring apprehensively at the mine.  Ultimately, his hunger wins out over his fear, and he decides to ask for work there.

The chapter ends with the ominous image of Le Voreux stooping over the mining town like a beast over its prey...Cronus preparing to swallow his own children.

Final Thoughts

So that’s chapter one, rich in hellish imagery and oppressive foreboding.  It’s interesting how nature and industrialization work together to create an image of Purgatory and Hell instead of just one or the other.

Also, the introduction to Etienne makes me think of Campbell’s hero’s journey, but we’ll have to read on to see how his journey fares, though the belly of the whale part of the journey should be obvious by now.

Check back in a few days for chapter two, which is where we meet some of our other main characters.

[grande-ere]

Germinal 1.1

Hello everyone, I'll be taking part in the Germinal book club. My Tumblr is @maraudeuselunaire but I'll be posting and reblogging from this blog to keep everything orderly for myself :D Just so you know that I'm the same person if I comment on or like a post. I'm going into this pretty much blind knowing only the rough basics on what this book is going to be about. Therefore, I'm actually not sure how much I'll be able to contribute and I'm expecting to state the obvious a lot of times. But I'll just share what comes to mind and I'm looking forward to seeing everyone else's thoughts! I'm reading the Oxford classics edition which was recommended.

In this first chapter, what mostly stood out to me (and gave a lingering impression) was the descriptions of the mining factory and the landscape and how they interacted. Instead of seeing what I suppose is going to be Étienne's future work place, it evoked the association of someone entering a fantasy or faery realm -- a "world of shadows", a "fantastic realm". I thought it was interesting how the factory towers didn't seem to interrupt the landscape, but that instead the description made it almost seem like it was a natural part of it ("northern lights hanging over the land of coal and iron") (Mordor?). All this was combined with a distinct feeling of "once you enter, you never get out again" which of course has a very real background that was also illustrated by Bonnemort, but to me, in this chapter and with the imagery used, it did feel almost like a supernatural element -- like you could slightly change the scenery and get the exposition to a gothic story. When Étienne decided to ask for work despite what he had heard, I found myself feeling like he should leave instead.

I found it interesting that Étienne commenting on Bonnemort's name almost broke the fourth wall considering that the name of the mine was a tell-tale as well. Would this be the one name that would stand out to a French reader of the time or is it a tongue-in-cheek remark? It almost seemed like one.

What we've learned so far about the unemployment as well as the conditions of employment is depressing already. With respect to Étienne, I'm curious when we will find out more about his background. So far, we know his age, name and profession, and that he hit his boss and was thrown out of Lille. But what happened there exactly?