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3.64 AVERAGE
3.64 AVERAGE
Thérése Raquin, a novel written by Émile Zola in 1866, is an intense and affecting book, at once freezing and burning the reader mercilessly. The story, which concerns a pair of adulterers planning to murder the husband who stands in their way, is a simple little thing, and perhaps handled with more complexity in Vladimir Nabokov's King, Queen, Knave. But it is not from its plot that the novel derives its power, though the last third shocked me by going to unexpected extremes in the lead-up to the conclusion.
It's a book of images, more than anything else, and those images are haunting, the sorts of things that linger behind the reader's eyelids like the emotional equivalent of a bruise. Which the narration style is curiously apathetic (deliberate on Zola's part - he talks extensively in the preface about characterization based on physiology) and the characters are impossible to sympathize entirely with, being either entirely morally corrupt or decent people but irritating beyond all measure (rather like many essentially decent people in the real world), the reader somehow is drawn, helpless, into the whirlpool of Thérése and Laurent's fates. The dark, depressing little shop in the Passage du Pont-Neuf took vivid, tactile shape for me, with its duty corners and perpetual cold, the starkness of the room where Thérése and Laurent's adultery was begun. It was a book to speed my breathing as I neared the end, to cause a deep exhale at the inevitability of the climax when I finally closed it.
It's a book with prose to savor upon your tongue, even in translation (my translation is by Andrew Rothwell, and I recommend it), though the beauty of the writing did not distract from the pain of the events it described, but rather added to them - the sort of book in which the author uses their powers of description not only to describe peaceful lakes and fragile beauty, but to paint pictures of bloated corpses and the passionless coupling of a married couple who are deathly afraid of one another.
I'm not sure to whom I should recommend it, for many people would be frightened off, the fearful images that I mentioned earlier painfully branded into their eyelids rather than bruised in the near-tears pain of exceptionally good books. Victor Hugo aficionados (being one, I can make this judgment) might be brought to nausea by Zola's lack of compassion for his characters. Those who enjoy the gleeful detestation of humanity espoused in the writings of the Marquis de Sade (myself not among this number) would be bored by the bleak realism and the simplicity of the storyline. The nearest book to which I can liken it is Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness, and from that, readers, you may make your judgments regarding whether you would enjoy this book. The differences, though, are significant, for Heart of Darkness' dreamlike mist would evaporate in the gaslights of Zola's Paris, and Heart of Darkness tells an epic, wide reaching story concerning the lives and deaths of many, while Thérése Raquin is small, localized, concerning only a few, whose lives and deaths (as the novel so skillfully shows) could so easily be forgotten amidst the complexity of a city with wider aspirations.
Read it then, read it by all means, but know what you have gotten yourself into. Know that this book is unsparing, uncompromising, entirely unkind. Know that it is not rose tinted, and that, in all the suffering by guilty and innocent alike, the only nobility, the only heroism, is paltry and useless in the face of the inevitable, destined tragedy which befalls all the characters, a tragedy which is not in the least Aristotlean.
It's a book of images, more than anything else, and those images are haunting, the sorts of things that linger behind the reader's eyelids like the emotional equivalent of a bruise. Which the narration style is curiously apathetic (deliberate on Zola's part - he talks extensively in the preface about characterization based on physiology) and the characters are impossible to sympathize entirely with, being either entirely morally corrupt or decent people but irritating beyond all measure (rather like many essentially decent people in the real world), the reader somehow is drawn, helpless, into the whirlpool of Thérése and Laurent's fates. The dark, depressing little shop in the Passage du Pont-Neuf took vivid, tactile shape for me, with its duty corners and perpetual cold, the starkness of the room where Thérése and Laurent's adultery was begun. It was a book to speed my breathing as I neared the end, to cause a deep exhale at the inevitability of the climax when I finally closed it.
It's a book with prose to savor upon your tongue, even in translation (my translation is by Andrew Rothwell, and I recommend it), though the beauty of the writing did not distract from the pain of the events it described, but rather added to them - the sort of book in which the author uses their powers of description not only to describe peaceful lakes and fragile beauty, but to paint pictures of bloated corpses and the passionless coupling of a married couple who are deathly afraid of one another.
I'm not sure to whom I should recommend it, for many people would be frightened off, the fearful images that I mentioned earlier painfully branded into their eyelids rather than bruised in the near-tears pain of exceptionally good books. Victor Hugo aficionados (being one, I can make this judgment) might be brought to nausea by Zola's lack of compassion for his characters. Those who enjoy the gleeful detestation of humanity espoused in the writings of the Marquis de Sade (myself not among this number) would be bored by the bleak realism and the simplicity of the storyline. The nearest book to which I can liken it is Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness, and from that, readers, you may make your judgments regarding whether you would enjoy this book. The differences, though, are significant, for Heart of Darkness' dreamlike mist would evaporate in the gaslights of Zola's Paris, and Heart of Darkness tells an epic, wide reaching story concerning the lives and deaths of many, while Thérése Raquin is small, localized, concerning only a few, whose lives and deaths (as the novel so skillfully shows) could so easily be forgotten amidst the complexity of a city with wider aspirations.
Read it then, read it by all means, but know what you have gotten yourself into. Know that this book is unsparing, uncompromising, entirely unkind. Know that it is not rose tinted, and that, in all the suffering by guilty and innocent alike, the only nobility, the only heroism, is paltry and useless in the face of the inevitable, destined tragedy which befalls all the characters, a tragedy which is not in the least Aristotlean.
Agustus Read-a-Thon: #11
jadi kepengen baca buku-buku Zola yang lain.
jadi kepengen baca buku-buku Zola yang lain.
dark
emotional
mysterious
tense
slow-paced
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
If you mix “Madame Bovary” and “Wuthering Heights” while sprinkling in a murder plot I imagine the result would be “Thérèse Raquin”. God, how do I even begin to describe this book? This story is a hellish nightmare from start to finish. Someone called this book an obstacle course for masochists and I couldn’t have said it better myself. Never have I ever encountered an author as happy to torture his characters as Èmile Zola. At times I was shocked about the brutality of it all. The violence is quite graphic even by today’s standards.
Nevertheless, as a reader you get a wicked pleasure of observing the relentless torment of Thérèse and Laurent because they are deserving of it. Do not be mistaken. This is not a story about redemption. If you’re searching for a book with a happy ending, I’d suggest you keep looking.
Nevertheless, as a reader you get a wicked pleasure of observing the relentless torment of Thérèse and Laurent because they are deserving of it. Do not be mistaken. This is not a story about redemption. If you’re searching for a book with a happy ending, I’d suggest you keep looking.
Waaaaah.... endingnya dahsyat!!! Tidak biasa, apalagi sebenarnya saya sedikiiit mengira akan mendapat kisah hepi en (some sort)... ataupun jika saja tragedi ya, tragedi ala eropa yang banjir air mata, ternyata oh ternyata.....
***
Kalau di jaman modern sekarang ini, kisah wanita baik-baik dan patuh yang mabuk kepayang kepada pria miskin ala bad boy dan kemudian keduanya terjerumus dalam kegiatan kriminal, sudah sering kita lihat/dengar ceritanya. Tapi novel ini pertama kali dipublikasikan tahun 1867. Jadi, jangan-jangan semua cerita CSI ato Criminal Minds ato yg lain yang mengangkat tema standar seperti itu asalnya dari di Mme. Therese Raquin dan si Laurent ini ya....
Denger nama Laurent, kok jadinya kepikiran Vampir ya?
***
Kalau di jaman modern sekarang ini, kisah wanita baik-baik dan patuh yang mabuk kepayang kepada pria miskin ala bad boy dan kemudian keduanya terjerumus dalam kegiatan kriminal, sudah sering kita lihat/dengar ceritanya. Tapi novel ini pertama kali dipublikasikan tahun 1867. Jadi, jangan-jangan semua cerita CSI ato Criminal Minds ato yg lain yang mengangkat tema standar seperti itu asalnya dari di Mme. Therese Raquin dan si Laurent ini ya....
En väldigt naturalistisk och realistisk skildring av konsekvenserna av ett mord.
Pour mon cours français. Cette une histoire très noir, mais c'était intéressant.
All her life Therese Raquin has oppressed her passion and liveliness for bright things. Tending to her sick cousin, Camille, has put her needs and wants on the back burner with her aunt insisting on making her son the family's first priority. This state of being where one just exists for the sake of existing becomes Therese's status quo for years to come. She marries her cousin for it offers secure future and moves to Paris when her husband gets tired of country life.
When Laurent enters Raquin household, the family is smitten. He is an attentive friend, a gentleman and has an attractive disposition about him. Its the first time Therese sees a man of considerable young age and single at such close proximity. This has her eyes chasing after her husband's new best friend and poking the sleeping dragon that is her passion. The bottled up passion bursts out like lava when Laurent makes a move on her. Their combined passion is graceless, violent and almost animal like. Therese thrives in this affair. She recovers a part of her that she believed she has lost and finds life in Laurent's arms. This hide and seek affair isn't enough for them and that is what drives them to make their combined first poor life decision. Kill Camille.
This decision is an expose on Laurent's character with his obsession for an easy life without having to bend his back to earn his keep. They could have eloped which would have been an easy thing to do. But Laurent finds it easier to eliminate Camille and take his position - as a husband and as a son to Camille's mother. He likes the small place in the dark alley, finding solace in its dingy lit apartment and dusty street. What he doesn't anticipate is the guilt that follows him and Therese once they complete the task of killing Camille.
Much part of the novel is the guilt that comes after the crime. Their guilt becomes their punishment; Camille exists between them even after he is dead by simply existing in their memories. Their guilt turn into their own personal horrific hell and the couple cannot come to enjoy the freedom even after they get together officially. Zola's setting has to be lauded as the shadows and darkness adds to the horror of their minds as much as Camille's memory does. The guilt eats at them lashing at one another at every turn, turning them into vicious animals with biting words and irresponsible actions. It doesn't do much when Mother Raquin gets paralyzed.
Therese nurses her mother-in-law in an act of guilt and not of love. She confesses her sin to her as a means for peace but it doesn't do much given the state that she and Laurent are in. What she once loved about him turns rancid and the attraction she had for him turns to disgust. Their paths wander as they carry on with their lives desperately obfuscating their wrong-doings by continuously displaying anger and bitter words at each other. He has an affair on the side and she finds new friends. The only escape they see from this horrible nightmare that has stretched too long, is for the other to die. And they decide independently to kill the other on that particular day.
The ending these two get shouldn't be heartbreaking but it is. One wants to poison and the other wants to use the blade. Its ironic how Laurent goes for poison for poison is the choice of weapon a woman would generally use while a blade is a man's choice. It only goes to show how Zola shakes up the narrative by making his characters as uncommon as possible. The end is inevitable for this doomed romance as they die at the very place they met for the first time. The irony is magnificient in its simplicity.
Zola sets up the story in a gloomy place as if its the only place where a torrid love affair can take place. General mood of the story is dark - be it the house they live in, the road that leads to the house and the psychology of the characters themselves. Even the weather is found to be gloomy whenever Zola makes a note of it except for the day when Camille dies when autumn is close to an end paving way for long dreary winter. Zola packs every tool known to him to make the scenes claustrophobic and stuffy. He doesn't hold back when he delves into darkness of the minds and explores the extent of damage, guilt can impose.
Its entirely satsifying in the way a setting such as this promises. Zola nails it.
When Laurent enters Raquin household, the family is smitten. He is an attentive friend, a gentleman and has an attractive disposition about him. Its the first time Therese sees a man of considerable young age and single at such close proximity. This has her eyes chasing after her husband's new best friend and poking the sleeping dragon that is her passion. The bottled up passion bursts out like lava when Laurent makes a move on her. Their combined passion is graceless, violent and almost animal like. Therese thrives in this affair. She recovers a part of her that she believed she has lost and finds life in Laurent's arms. This hide and seek affair isn't enough for them and that is what drives them to make their combined first poor life decision. Kill Camille.
This decision is an expose on Laurent's character with his obsession for an easy life without having to bend his back to earn his keep. They could have eloped which would have been an easy thing to do. But Laurent finds it easier to eliminate Camille and take his position - as a husband and as a son to Camille's mother. He likes the small place in the dark alley, finding solace in its dingy lit apartment and dusty street. What he doesn't anticipate is the guilt that follows him and Therese once they complete the task of killing Camille.
Much part of the novel is the guilt that comes after the crime. Their guilt becomes their punishment; Camille exists between them even after he is dead by simply existing in their memories. Their guilt turn into their own personal horrific hell and the couple cannot come to enjoy the freedom even after they get together officially. Zola's setting has to be lauded as the shadows and darkness adds to the horror of their minds as much as Camille's memory does. The guilt eats at them lashing at one another at every turn, turning them into vicious animals with biting words and irresponsible actions. It doesn't do much when Mother Raquin gets paralyzed.
Therese nurses her mother-in-law in an act of guilt and not of love. She confesses her sin to her as a means for peace but it doesn't do much given the state that she and Laurent are in. What she once loved about him turns rancid and the attraction she had for him turns to disgust. Their paths wander as they carry on with their lives desperately obfuscating their wrong-doings by continuously displaying anger and bitter words at each other. He has an affair on the side and she finds new friends. The only escape they see from this horrible nightmare that has stretched too long, is for the other to die. And they decide independently to kill the other on that particular day.
The ending these two get shouldn't be heartbreaking but it is. One wants to poison and the other wants to use the blade. Its ironic how Laurent goes for poison for poison is the choice of weapon a woman would generally use while a blade is a man's choice. It only goes to show how Zola shakes up the narrative by making his characters as uncommon as possible. The end is inevitable for this doomed romance as they die at the very place they met for the first time. The irony is magnificient in its simplicity.
Zola sets up the story in a gloomy place as if its the only place where a torrid love affair can take place. General mood of the story is dark - be it the house they live in, the road that leads to the house and the psychology of the characters themselves. Even the weather is found to be gloomy whenever Zola makes a note of it except for the day when Camille dies when autumn is close to an end paving way for long dreary winter. Zola packs every tool known to him to make the scenes claustrophobic and stuffy. He doesn't hold back when he delves into darkness of the minds and explores the extent of damage, guilt can impose.
Its entirely satsifying in the way a setting such as this promises. Zola nails it.
3.5/4 Full review up on my blog here: https://thelittlebookowl.wordpress.com/2016/03/04/therese-raquin-emile-zola/
dark
emotional
mysterious
sad
tense
slow-paced
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes