A review by heyimaghost
Thérèse Raquin by Émile Zola

4.0

Thérèse Raquin is considered by many critics to be Zola's first important novel, and is also an early example of Naturalism--so early, in fact, that Zola's preface to the second edition contains one of the earliest appearances of the word "Naturalism." In Zola's view, his naturalistic novel was a psychological study of temperament and environment, with all the unbiased observation of a scientist. He essentially postulates that, placing characters, with these predispositions and temperaments, in the positions he puts them in, events would always turn out the same. The book isn't nearly as scientific as he would have you believe, and at certain points reminded me of the biasedly-Catholic narration found in Balzac or even the overly-sentimental and romantic notions of justice found in Dickens. The idea that vice leads to more vice and eventually destroys itself might be true--and often is, I think--but it hardly has a scientific feel. Well, at least not in the hands of Zola. There's a bit of the romantic writer in him, whether he could see it or not. This is especially clear in the fantastic scenes of the horrors of conscience that plague our two sinners: Thérèse and Laurent.
There's a handwritten note at the beginning of my Goodwill copy that reads "intense study of evil at work in an individual and in the world at large." Not far from the mark. The thing that struck me throughout the novel was that there were no redeeming characters. Every action committed by the characters is motivated by self-interest. If the characters were not so dull, I think I would've thrown the book out of anger. Though I said there are times when Zola's "inner romantic novelist" peaks out, these are never in the characters, but in descriptions of scenes. One could hardly become invested with any of the characters. Even their badness is boring.
(I don't mean to call them boring in a bad way. Naturalism demands it. Romantic literature focuses on the exceptional, the exciting, and the unique character; but Naturalism--and Realism before it--seeks to portray the common man. In essence, Romantics study the exception; Naturalists study the rule.)
My main criticism of the writing is that we're told several times that Thérèse and Laurent are pushed to the end of their thread, or driven completely insane. How often can one be pushed that far in a five month period? I think Zola just got a little over-zealous in his expressing their guilt and their fear. If he had held off on such powerful expressions, the climax might have been more powerful. The tearful release just before the end was, I thought, a fantastic touch though.
I had an interesting thought about half-way through the book: if this had been written in another way, it could easily have been a dark comedy. It brought to mind a couple of works that would follow it, and quite likely take influence from it. Both of which are dark comedies: [b:The Postman Always Rings Twice|591352|The Postman Always Rings Twice|James M. Cain|https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1330271399s/591352.jpg|808562] and [b:The Stranger|49552|The Stranger|Albert Camus|https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1349927872s/49552.jpg|3324344]. Of course, the treatment of guilt is far different in Camus, but he is known to have taken influence from Cain's novel, which has a very similar plot to Thérèse Raquin. Perhaps that's why The Stranger comes to mind, though I do feel like the character of Laurent shares some qualities with the character of Meursault.