While "Fruitfulness," as I have said, constitutes a first instalment of
M. Zola's conception of a social religion, it embodies a good deal else.
The idea of writing some such work first occurred to him many years ago.
In 1896 he contributed an article to the Paris _Figaro_, in which he
said: "For some ten years now I have been haunted by the idea of a novel,
of which I shall, doubtless, never write the first page.... That novel
would have been called 'Wastage'... and I should have pleaded in it in
favor of all the rights of life, with all the passion which I may have in
my heart."[1] M. Zola's article then proceeds to discuss the various social
problems, theories, and speculations which are set forth here and there
in the present work. Briefly, the genesis of "Fruitfulness" lies in the
article I have quoted.
[Footnote 1: See _Nouvelle Campagne_ (1896), par Émile Zola.
Paris, 1897, pp. 217-228.]
"Fruitfulness" is a book to be judged from several standpoints. It would
be unjust and absurd to judge it from one alone, such, for instance, as
that of the new social religion to which I have referred. It must be
looked at notably as a tract for the times in relation to certain
grievous evils from which France and other countries--though more
particularly France--are undoubtedly suffering. And it may be said that
some such denunciation of those evils was undoubtedly necessary, and that
nobody was better placed to pen that denunciation than M. Zola, who,
alone of all French writers nowadays, commands universal attention.
Whatever opinion may be held of his writings, they have to be reckoned
with. Thus, in preparing "Fruitfulness," he was before all else
discharging a patriotic duty, and that duty he took in hand in an hour of
cruel adversity, when to assist a great cause he withdrew from France and
sought for a time a residence in England, where for eleven months I was
privileged to help him in maintaining his incognito. "Fruitfulness" was
entirely written in England, begun in a Surrey country house, and
finished at the Queen's Hotel, Norwood.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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