"The Kill" is the second novel in Émile Zola's twenty volume series Les Rougon-Macquart. It's been quite a while since I read any books by Zola and reading him again made me want to read the entire series in order so I went and checked how many of them I have and it's not nearly enough to read all twenty, especially in order. I guess I'll just have to start looking more for Zola when I'm in bookstores. Or I suppose I could buy them on the internet or perhaps even someday break down and let someone get me an e-reader. In that case though, if I liked the book I'd have to find it and buy it anyway just to have a printed copy of it. Anyway, back to Zola and his book.
The book opens with two of our main characters, Renée and Maxime riding, or I guess I should say sitting, in a luxurious horse drawn carriage, very slowly, extremely slowly, leaving a park in Paris that apparently everyone in Paris must also be leaving because they are in the middle of a traffic jam, or at least the 19th century-equivalent of a traffic jam. It seems like they and everyone else are used to this, as if they all come here quite often, and ride through the park quite often, and just sit there barely moving quite often, and I have no idea why people would willingly do this, but they do, all of them. Before you get the idea that Renée and Maxime are husband and wife, they aren't, Renée is married to Maxime's father Aristide and Maxime is his son from his first marriage. Renée is almost thirty, Maxime is twenty. Renée is telling Maxime how bored she is, when Maxime tells her she couldn't possibly be bored, everywhere she goes she is worshiped and adored, men fall at her feet, she has carriages, she has anything she wants, she still insists that she is bored.
'You know, you deserve to ride in a cab! It would serve you right! Look at these people going back to Paris, they're all at your feet. They greet you as if you were their queen, and your dear friend, Monsieur de Mussy, can hardly prevent himself from blowing kisses at you.'
A horseman was in fact greeting Renée. Maxime had been talking in a hypocritical, mocking voice. But Renée barely turned round, and shrugged. This time Maxime made a gesture of despair.
'Really,' he said, 'has it come to this? Good God, you've got everything: what more do you want?'
Renée looked up. Her eyes glowed with the desire of unsatisfied curiosity.
'I want something different,l she replied softly.
'But since you have everything,' resumed Maxime, laughing, 'there is nothing different. What does "something different" mean?'
Renée doesn't know. Soon after this, once they get out of the traffic jam that is, they arrive back at the mansion and Renée spends quite some time - more than it would have taken me - getting ready for a dinner party they are having that evening. Oh, before I forget, before Renée and Maxime part to get ready for the party this happens, followed by her giving us a rather odd and creepy hint of what may be coming:
"A thousand tremulous emotions passed over her body: unrealized dreams, nameless delights, confused longings, all the monstrous voluptuousness that a drive home from the Bois under a paling sky can infuse into a woman's heart. She kept both hands buried in the bearskin, she was quite warm in her white cloth coat with the mauve velvet lapels. She put out her foot, stretching, and her ankle lightly touched Maxime's warm leg; he took no notice. A jolt aroused her from her torpor. She raised her head, and her grey eyes looked curiously at the young man who sat lounging in an attitude of sheer elegance.........
'If I hadn't married your father, I'm sure you would have wanted to court me.'
The young man seemed to find the idea very funny, for he was still laughing when he turned the corner of the Boulevard Malesherbes."
After this I was pondering Renée's boredom. As they arrive home the mansion is described like this:
"The hall was very luxurious. There was a slight sense of suffocation on entering. The thick carpets that covered the floor and the stairs, and the wide red velvet hangings that concealed the walls and the doors, gave the hall the heavy silence and the slightly warm fragrant atmosphere of a chapel. Draperies hung high, and the ceiling was decorated with roses set on a lattice of golden beading. The staircase, whose double balustrade of white marble had a handrail covered with crimson velvet"
I'll stop there. I got thinking that if I had to clean all that I'd never be bored, there wouldn't be a chance to get bored, I'd be too exhausted. Then there is the getting ready for the dinner:
"she rang for Celeste, her maid, and had herself dressed for dinner. This took a full hour and a quarter. When the last pin had been inserted, she opened a window, as the room was very warm, and, leaning on the sill, sat thinking."
OK, that would send me to the heights of boredom. So would the what seemed like an endless dinner party of talking with one Monsieur after another, or their wives, or widows about nothing mostly, complimenting women on the way their hair looked or the jewelry they were wearing seemed to be the main topic of conversation. And then sitting at the table eating everything you could possibly think of and lots of things you would never think of. Then we get to go back to the drawing room and talk about hair and diamonds some more and about 2 a.m. everyone goes home. And that goes on not just once or twice a year, which would be torturous enough, but it seems to be an almost nightly occurrence.
I now realize that I've been writing this a long, long time and have just made it to the end of the first chapter so I'm flying through the rest, hopefully. I haven't even introduced Renée's husband yet. Aristide Saccard, who seems to love money more than either his wife, his son, or anything else I can think of, was once upon a time Aristide Rougon. He is the brother of Eugene Rougon, who was a main character in the first book of Zola's series. At least I think he was, I don't have the first book of the series, but I am going to have to find it, I want to know where these people came from in the beginning. His brother suggests he change his last name, although I don't remember why, and Aristide picks the name Saccard because he says it sounds like there is money in that name. I'll take his word for that, it doesn't bring money to my mind, it didn't before this book anyway. And from the beginning of the book, OK the beginning of the second chapter we have Aristide doing whatever he must do to get money, and eventually it works, he goes about it in not so nice ways, but money is his object and his method works. His brother gets him a job at a hotel as an assistant-surveying clerk, whatever that is, and although it is not the opportunity Aristide was hoping for his brother tells him to take the job and keep his eyes open. He does and it works. Even his sister helps him out by finding him a new, rather well-off wife even before his first wife has died (she's on her death bed). Aristide's sister is an odd character for this family,
"Madame Sidonie was thirty-five; but she dressed with so little care, and had so little of the woman in her manner, that she seemed much older. In fact she appeared ageless. She always wore the same black dress, frayed at the edges, rumpled and discoloured by use.......a black bonnet that came down over her forehead and hid her hair, and a black pair of thick shoes, she trotted through the streets carrying a little basket whose handles were mended with string......there came from it samples of every sort, notebooks, wallets, above all handfuls of stamped bills, the illegible handwriting on which she was peculiarly skilful at deciphering......she would insinuate herself into her customer's good graces and become her business agent, attending solicitors, lawyers and judges on her behalf......Living in the homes of others, she was a walking catalogue of people's wants and needs., She knew where there was a daughter who had to get married at once, a family that stood in need of three thousand francs......the sadness of a fair-haired lady who was misunderstood by her husband, the tastes of a baron keen on little supper-parties and very young girls."
Madame Sidonie is rather disturbing to me, like when we are told this:
"...it was Madame Sidonie who promised the Baron that she would negotiate with certain people who were clumsy enough not to have felt honoured by the interest that a senator had condescended to take in their child, a girl of ten."
OK, I said earlier that I'm flying through the rest, which I didn't, but now here it is. Just to give you a hint of what happens we have Renée, who is bored, Maxime, who just seems to find everything that happens amusing and is willing to go along with anything, Aristide, who only wants money, and when he has money he wants more of it, the creepy sister and the occasionally put in an appearance brother. Oh, and every lover anyone has had is at the dinner party which is just strange. Read the book, you may not love it, but I always love Zola, although I've never figured out why. Whenever I'm having a bad day or a sad moment I grab a Dickens book and within a few pages I start to feel better, Zola has never made me feel better but I still love him. Let me know if you can figure out why. Happy Reading.