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teresatumminello 's review for:
Nana
by Émile Zola
I can imagine the outrage this novel (probably one of those racy French novels kept out of the hands of proper Victorian ladies) provoked at the time of publication with its explicit portrait of an actress-cum-prostitute. Zola didn't write to titillate; he himself was outraged (as usual) at a society that was bored, wasteful and decadent, caring only for its own pleasure, thinking nothing of the future, its own excesses causing its collapse.
I went back and forth wondering whether Zola was blaming Nana or the men for the destruction of marriages, careers, and morals; and my best guess is the blame is on both, a perfect storm of receptiveness of these upper-class men to the raw sexuality of one woman, a woman who is her body only. Though Zola is a naturalist, Nana is not realistic with these superwoman powers of hers. She is described as a literal man-eater (consumer); but her partners are willing, or as willing as slaves to their own sexual natures can be. In the second half of the book the depiction of Nana reminded me of the stories told about Marie Antoinette by her enemies, though Nana is without pedigree, being the offspring of two alcoholics from the slums of Paris (see [b:L'Assommoir|760673|L'Assommoir|Émile Zola|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1178127955l/760673._SY75_.jpg|741363]).
Though more complex than [b:The Fat and the Thin|103841|The Fat and the Thin (Les Rougon-Macquart, #3)|Émile Zola|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1349079183l/103841._SY75_.jpg|10242], this is my least favorite Zola so far (I've read three others), mostly because I don't care for descriptions of luxury and opulence, though I understand their purpose here. The lives of the aristocratic men worshiping at the altar of this theatrical and concupiscent Venus were not only uninteresting to me, but most of them blended together, which I'm sure was intentional but made the story repetitive.
Zola throws the reader into the scenes in his usual cinematic way; his powers of observation are prodigious. Some of the symbolism is obvious, but the writing is wonderful and this translation is earthy. Zola wrote this to parallel the French Empire, but the reader today will see parallels with our own cult of (sexual) celebrity. (There's even a woman named Gaga.)
I went back and forth wondering whether Zola was blaming Nana or the men for the destruction of marriages, careers, and morals; and my best guess is the blame is on both, a perfect storm of receptiveness of these upper-class men to the raw sexuality of one woman, a woman who is her body only. Though Zola is a naturalist, Nana is not realistic with these superwoman powers of hers. She is described as a literal man-eater (consumer); but her partners are willing, or as willing as slaves to their own sexual natures can be. In the second half of the book the depiction of Nana reminded me of the stories told about Marie Antoinette by her enemies, though Nana is without pedigree, being the offspring of two alcoholics from the slums of Paris (see [b:L'Assommoir|760673|L'Assommoir|Émile Zola|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1178127955l/760673._SY75_.jpg|741363]).
Though more complex than [b:The Fat and the Thin|103841|The Fat and the Thin (Les Rougon-Macquart, #3)|Émile Zola|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1349079183l/103841._SY75_.jpg|10242], this is my least favorite Zola so far (I've read three others), mostly because I don't care for descriptions of luxury and opulence, though I understand their purpose here. The lives of the aristocratic men worshiping at the altar of this theatrical and concupiscent Venus were not only uninteresting to me, but most of them blended together, which I'm sure was intentional but made the story repetitive.
Zola throws the reader into the scenes in his usual cinematic way; his powers of observation are prodigious. Some of the symbolism is obvious, but the writing is wonderful and this translation is earthy. Zola wrote this to parallel the French Empire, but the reader today will see parallels with our own cult of (sexual) celebrity. (There's even a woman named Gaga.)