The Rush for the Spoil (La Curée): A Realistic NovelZola, Émile
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The Rush for the Spoil (La Curée): A Realistic Novel
Zola, Émile
Paris (France) -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
This madcap Renée, who had appeared one night in the Parisian firmament
like the eccentric fairy of fashionable sensuality, was the least
analyzable of women. No doubt if she had been brought up at home she
would by means of religion or some other satisfaction for the nerves
have attenuated the desires by which she was at times really maddened.
She belonged to the middle classes by her mind; she was perfectly
upright, with a love for logical things, a fear of heaven and hell
and a huge dose of prejudices; she belonged to her father's side,
to the calm and prudent race among which fireside virtues flourish.
And yet it was in this nature of hers that prodigious fancies, ever
reviving inquisitiveness and desires not to be confessed, sprouted
and grew. While she was with the ladies of the Visitation, free, her
mind wandering amid the mystical voluptuousness of the chapel and the
carnal attachment of her young friends, she had framed for herself a
fantastic education, learning vice, throwing all the frankness of her
nature into it, unsettling her young brain to such a point that she
singularly embarrassed her confessor by owning to him that she had
felt a most unreasonable longing to get up and kiss him one day during
mass. Then she struck her breast, she turned pale at the thought of the
devil and his cauldrons. The fault which, later on, had brought about
her marriage with Saccard, that brutal rape which she had experienced
with a kind of frightened expectation, made her despise herself and in
a great measure caused the abandonment of her whole life. She thought
that she no longer had to struggle against evil that it was in her,
that logic authorized her to follow the bad science to the end. With
her there was yet more curiosity than appetite. Thrown into the society
of the Second Empire, abandoned to her imagination, provided with
money, encouraged in her loudest eccentricities, she gave herself,
regretted it, and finally succeeded in killing her expiring principles,
always lashed, always urged onward by her insatiable longing to learn
and feel.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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