Su excelencia Eugène Rougon

Les Rougon-Macquart #6

by Émile Zola, Andrés Ruiz Merino (translator)

Antes de que le cesen por su oposición a un proyecto apoyado por la emperatriz Eugenia de Montijo, Eugène Rougon presenta su dimisión como presidente del Consejo de Estado. Conserva su cargo de senador, pero su influencia se resiente considerablemente, para decepción de sus amigos –a los que se les llama «la banda»–, que dependían de él para obtener toda clase de prebendas. Entre ellos destaca Clorinde Balbi, hija de una oscura condesa italiana, más dispuesta que nadie a que Rougon recupere el favor del emperador Luis Napoleón III; no son amantes, él no quiere casarse con ella (de hecho cada uno se casa por su lado), pero entre los dos hay una constante tensión erótica que nunca se sabe cómo se va a resolver. Su excelencia Eugène Rougon (1876), sexta novela del ciclo Los Rougon-Macquart, es ante todo el estudio de una personalidad a la que solo le interesa «poner el pie en la nuca de la multitud». Como dice el narrador, «su única pasión era ser superior», y poco le importan las vanidades y el dinero.

Crónica implacable del gobierno del Segundo Imperio francés, paraíso impune de la represión, el tráfico de influencias, el clientelismo y el enriquecimiento fraudulento, la novela es un magnífico retrato del poder político que Zola parece pintar con su conocida exuberancia no solo para su época sino –en tiempos de democracias falseadas y «ficción de parlamentarismo»– también para la nuestra.

Genres: Classics, France, French Literature, Fiction, 19th Century, Literature, Historical Fiction

448 pages, Kindle Edition

First published January 1, 1876

About the author

Émile Zola was a prominent French novelist, journalist, and playwright widely regarded as a key figure in the development of literary naturalism. His work profoundly influenced both literature and society through its commitment to depicting reality with scientific objectivity and exploring the impact of environment and heredity on human behavior. Born and raised in France, Zola experienced early personal hardship following the death of his father, which deeply affected his understanding of social and economic struggles—a theme that would later permeate his writings.
Zola began his literary career working as a clerk for a publishing house, where he developed his skills and cultivated a passion for literature. His early novels, such as Thérèse Raquin, gained recognition for their intense psychological insight and frank depiction of human desires and moral conflicts. However, it was his monumental twenty-volume series, Les Rougon-Macquart, that established his lasting reputation. This cycle of novels offered a sweeping examination of life under the Second French Empire, portraying the lives of a family across generations and illustrating how hereditary traits and social conditions shape individuals’ destinies. The series embodies the naturalist commitment to exploring human behavior through a lens informed by emerging scientific thought.
Beyond his literary achievements, Zola was a committed social and political activist. His involvement in the Dreyfus Affair is one of the most notable examples of his dedication to justice. When Captain Alfred Dreyfus was wrongfully accused and convicted of treason, Zola published his famous open letter, J’Accuse…!, which condemned the French military and government for corruption and anti-Semitism. This act of courage led to his prosecution and temporary exile but played a crucial role in eventual justice for Dreyfus and exposed deep divisions in French society.
Zola’s personal life was marked by both stability and complexity. He married Éléonore-Alexandrine Meley, who managed much of his household affairs, and later had a long-term relationship with Jeanne Rozerot, with whom he fathered two children. Throughout his life, Zola remained an incredibly prolific writer, producing not only novels but also essays, plays, and critical works that investigated the intersections between literature, science, and society.
His legacy continues to resonate for its profound impact on literature and for his fearless commitment to social justice. Zola’s work remains essential reading for its rich narrative detail, social critique, and pioneering approach to the realistic portrayal of human life. His role in the Dreyfus Affair stands as a powerful example of the intellectual’s responsibility to speak truth to power.

Reviews

[Helga · Rating 5 out of 5]

Reading Zola is like watching a movie in your head.
You can picture every single character and their individual mannerism and eccentricities like they are right in front of you.
With a couple of words he can set a scene.
He can make you sympathize with one and detest the other.
In a word, no matter what the subject matter of his novel is, his characters are the ones who keep the story alive and compel you to read till the end.

The sixth novel in the Rougon-Macquart series follows Eugène Rougon, the son of Pierre and Félicité Rougon who were introduced to us in the first novel, La fortune des Rougon.

The events of the book take place in the Paris of Napoleon III and focus on some of the main players’ political intrigues, ambition, greed and insatiable appetite for power.

The story begins when Rougon or as everyone calls him ‘the great man’ has fallen from grace with the Emperor and has lost his position of power.

He was the man for critical situations, 'the man with the big paws’.

As his friends depend upon him and his assistance in governmental affairs, they conspire to make him the favorite of the Emperor once again, in any way possible.

Decidedly, he said to himself, the folly of man was great indeed.

But what would become of Rougon if he is not needed anymore?
If the winds of change blow and his friends find someone more powerful to flatter and grovel to, would he still be called ‘the great man’?

[Luís · Rating 3 out of 5]

His Excellency Eugène Rougon is a book which is part of the books devoted to Rougon-Macquart. This novel centered around a character.
His Excellency Eugene and this character himself only live by and for politics. From the story's beginning, this book shows the government behind the scenes, the official aspects of political life, and its underside; we attend an Assembly and ministers' council. This novel presents political ambition as an end to achieve at all costs, a fixed idea (obsession), or a passion mobilizing all man's forces. All this happened under the Second Empire.
Victims or beneficiaries of the imperial system, the Rougon-Macquart, lived through these years of luxury and misery, debauchery and moral order, trafficking and police pettiness and business.
It is a book that describes a particular period of the history of France.

[J.L. Sutton · Rating 4 out of 5]

“He [Eugène Rougon]...subordinated everything to the incessant aggrandisement of his own ego. Despite being utterly devoid of real self-indulgence, he nevertheless indulged in secret orgies of supreme power.”



Émile Zola's His Excellency Eugène Rougon (Les Rougon-Macquart, #6) charts Rougon's return to political power in meticulous detail. Although slow-moving, it is also extraordinary. The descriptions put you in Rougon's world of France's Second Empire, and his interactions, especially with Clorinde, are engaging. While he is not a puzzle to her (he really only covets a return to power), "she was as great a mystery to him as she had been in the first days of their acquaintance." Above all, this is a political novel. You feel the ebb and flow of power in so many of the characters and really get the feeling that their role/power in the government is never static.

Censoring books is one of the ways Rougon attempts to hold on to power. Despite his statement: "I merely wanted to remark that novels are an especially poisonous food offered to the unhealthy curiosity of the people," there is no indication he cares for the people's welfare. Power for its own sake is the name of the game and censorship is a means of holding on to that power and controlling people. This is the sixth book in order of publication in Zola's monumental Rougon-Macquart series of twenty novels, but the novel that Zola felt should be read second (after The Fortune of the Rougons). Maybe after continuing the series, I will understand why.

[Jonathan · Rating 4 out of 5]

Do not believe those who class this as a lesser work. The issue may have been that previous translations were so poor, while we now have one by the extraordinary Brian Nelson.

One of the great works on politics and power. Eugene and Clorinde are both marvellously complex and nuanced characters, and remain both pertinent and illuminating.

[Greg · Rating 5 out of 5]

In His Excellency Eugène Rougon, Émile Zola created a character who embodied much of the political philosophy of Joseph de Maistre, the intellectual father of fascism and unabashed apologist for brute, centralized power. Zola surely read Stendhal’s The Red and the Black , in which the protagonist was an admirer of Maistre. Building on mere adoration, Zola takes it a bit further to create Eugène Rougon, Maistre’s ideal of a strong authoritarian leader. He is the kind of character Machiavelli surely would have studied with intense fascination. Moreover, this story is a timely metaphor for the current political catastrophe we are now experiencing in the United States.

This is the second in Zola’s recommended reading order of the twenty Rougon-Macquart novels, which depict differing parts of society in France’s Second Empire. In The Fortune of the Rougons , Eugène, the eldest of the Rougon children, advises from Paris back to the family in Plassans about the course of the revolution as they waver back and forth trying to determine the victors. Will the monarchist or republic forces win? In the end, they make a successful bet on the side of Napoleon III and reap the financial and political rewards that come with it. As this novel begins, Rougon is the leader of the national assembly, his power second only to the emperor. In a seemingly innocuous session, he shocks the chamber and the gallery by quietly resigning as his hangers-on, who “strained to grasp what the sitting was about; their wide eyes showed, however, that they understood nothing”, are left in a state of imbalance, unsure of their future corrupt trough-feeding. His begrudging admirers wonder and speculate about his next move as his rivals relish opportunities to fill the void and cash in. But Rougon beguiles them all as he waits for his moment, especially the mysterious Chlorinde, an Italian of minor nobility about whom “nothing was really known” as she “preferred [them] not to know.” She is one thing Rougon desires, but cannot have, and her machinations will have great impact on his life and career.

Rougon’s “ideal [was] to have a whip and be in command, to be superior, cleverer and stronger than all of them” and he knew that “[e]verything he said was, of course, for public consumption.” But without office to express his power, those reliant on him begin to lose faith, they felt as though they had made a bad bet. They did not comprehend or have the patience to wait for his plans to take hold as he hoped for “some sudden catastrophe that would make him indispensable.” But come it would, in the form of an assassination attempt on the emperor—an attempt he learned about but would do nothing to prevent. Having survived it, the emperor resurrects Rougon’s career and makes him the most powerful minister in the nation, with more power than before, which was in itself formidable.

He used the crisis to express his most deeply-held political instincts: of brute force, manipulation, and strategic patronage. When he cannot have Chlorinde, he marries her off to his appointed prime minister, Delastang, knowing she will steer the course of his term since he “might not have a great intellect; but he could fit in anywhere.” He limits the press, closing down dissent, brutally if need be, making it an arm of his authoritarian regime. After all, he reasons, “Where would we be if absolutely anyone could write what he wanted?” To him, “newspapers were subversive, they were demoralizing, they created all kinds of trouble. He would rather have brigands and highwaymen than journalists. A man can recover from a knife wound, but the stabs of the pen are poisonous.” But even novels and other books cannot escape his terror. They are full of “dangerous ideas, subversive theories, and [promote] anti-social feelings.”

His vain and corrupt supporters quickly come back to profit from the protection and baubles that are to be found in the shadow of his autocratic umbrella. He lets them believe they have power, knowing full well that “Twenty stout men with greedy appetites are stronger than any principle, and when they can exploit a principle, and when they can exploit a principle too, they are invincible.” He elevates the shady character who informed him of the assassination attempt to a leadership role in his state police force to enforce a judicially-sanctioned “Law of Public Safety,” which consists of arbitrary political arrests to silence and intimidate opposition. Each district must reach quotas of arrests not based on criminality, but to create a widespread fear of power throughout the country. “No moderation! People must be afraid of you!” Rougon’s “name stood for total repression, negation of all freedoms, absolute rule…To govern, to keep the mob under his heel, that was his immediate ambition; the rest was quite secondary…Nothing gave him more satisfaction than to feel himself hated.” In an odd premonition of today’s political rhetoric, Rougon at one point exclaims, “Lock ‘em all up. That has greater effect.”

But when one of his political arrests goes beyond the limits of social decorum, Rougon’s star begins to fade. The emperor, who still values and praises him in public, begins to lose faith in his selected political strongman. Chlorinde begins to use her skills to bring Rougon down rather than prop him up. And the oligarchical class begins to abandon him.

They had taken possession of every part of him, using his feet to climb, his hands to steal, his jaws to tear and devour. They lived on his flesh, deriving all their pleasure and health from it, feasting on it without any thought of the future. And now, having sucked him dry, and beginning to hear the very foundations cracking, they were scurrying away, like rats who know a building is about to collapse, after they had gnawed great holes in the walls. The whole gang was healthy and sleek. They were feeding on other flesh now.

Rougon again realizes it is time to leave the political stage as his vacuous creation, Delastang—and his wife Chlorinde—benefits from the fall.

The final chapter, which begins three years after this denouement, springs forth with surprises that make this a thoroughly timeless, contemporary tale. This is a story is filled with countless universal political themes—the relationship between greed and power, power for power’s sake, recrimination as policy, abandoning principles (actually, never having them in the first place) for expediency, power as an exercise in vanity—that transcend the historical setting of the plot. It’s an old truism that comedy, especially a comic novel, is the most difficult to write. I think the same is true of political fiction. His Excellency Eugène Rougon proves, however, with every sentence that it can be a work of art. It is a masterpiece and the highlight—until, I'm fairly sure, I reread Germinal—of the thirteen Rougon-Macquart novels I have read so far.

[Zahra · Rating 4 out of 5]

از یک رمان کلاسیک سیاسی چه انتظاری دارید؟ شخصیت های خوب پرداخته شده به جای سخنان شعاری طولانی و دیالوگ های الکی مثلا فلسفی عمیق؟ قرار دادن کاراکترها در بستر تاریخی بدون تحریف تاریخ؟ پرهیز از دادن اطلاعات اضافی و تبدیل نشدن به صفحه ویکی پدیا؟ حفظ کردن تازگی؟ هیجان داشتن و خشک و خسته کننده نبودن؟
خب باید بگم که کتاب عالیجناب اوژن روگن تمام این صفات رو بعلاوه‌ی کلی ویژگی خوب دیگه داره!یه داستان تاریخی-سیاسی برای دوران امپراطوری دوم فرانسه با شخصیت های به یاد موندنی و نبردهای هیجان انگیزی که به جای اینکه تو جبهه جنگ باشن، داخل مجلس اعیان و کاخ امپراطوری و خانه‌ها و اتاق‌های کار سیاستمدارهائن. نبردهایی که حتی حسشون نمی‌کنیم ولی سر موقع چنان توییستی به داستان میدن که آدم میمونه از کجا اومدن!
و چی بگم از خود شخصیت اوژن روگن!! شخصیتی که با سیاست و برای سیاست زندگی میکنه. تجسم کامل ایده‌های ژوزف دو میستر!!
در عجبم که این کتاب اینقدر بین کارهای زولا مهجور مونده!! به قول خوانندگان انگلیسی زبان احتمالا به خاطر ترجمه خیلی بد کتاب بوده که تا مدت ها فقط همین یه ترجمه وجود داشته ولی الان ترجمه جدید با یه ویراست خیلی بهتر اومده که امیدوارم باعث بیشتر دیده شدن این کتاب بشه.

[Dagio_maya · Rating 5 out of 5]

L'odeur de puissance

Sesto nell’ordine di pubblicazione (1876) ma secondo nell'ordine di lettura consigliato da Zola stesso (ordine che abbiamo deciso di seguire nel GDl qui su GR ), “Son Excellence Eugène Rougon” entra nei palazzi del potere seguendo la carriera politica di Eugène Rougon che ne “la fortuna dei Rougon”(1871) ha una parte fondamentale (collaborando per il colpo di Stato del 2 dicembre 1851 che portò al potere Luigi Napoleone Bonaparte) senza essere un diretto protagonista del romanzo.
Lì, infatti, agiva dietro le quinte una volta allontanatosi da Plassans per intraprendere la carriera politica a Parigi.
Primogenito di Pierre e Felicité Rougon, dal padre eredita la fisionomia del viso ma dalla madre i tratti ambiziosi e gli istinti autoritari

Si comincia con una movimentata seduta parlamentare dove regna una confusione di bisbigli e pettegolezzi.
Circola la voce, infatti, che Il Presidente del Consiglio, Eugène Rougon, presenterà le sue dimissioni dopo aver perso il favore imperiale.
Distribuiti tra i vari banchi ci vengono presentati alcuni dei personaggi chiave di questo intreccio: sono i seguaci di Rougon.
In apparenza accaniti sostenitori delle sue capacità politiche ma, in realtà, ciò che difendono sono un elenco di favoritismi con cui vogliono arricchirsi o fare carriera.
Antagonista è un’affascinante donna italiana: Clorinde Balbi.
In linea con il romanzo ottocentesco, Zola, ci descrive questo personaggio coi connotati di quell’ambiguità da spionaggio spesso attribuita proprio ai personaggi italiani.
Seguiamo così di palazzo in palazzo, di carrozza in carrozza la tessitura di una fitta trama che fa dell’ipocrisia il filo più importante
Rougon vive solo dominando mentre Clorinde tesse intrighi: ognuno segue la sua natura ma in realtà sono le due facce della stessa medaglia

"Rougon n’est pas un homme de gouvernement ; il aime trop le pouvoir, il se laisse griser, et alors il tape à tort et à travers, il administre à coups de bâton, avec une brutalité révoltante… Enfin, depuis cinq mois, il a commis des actes monstrueux…"

Zola prosegue il suo progetto letterario facendoci origliare i discorsi delle alte sfere.
Un ambiente ambiguo dove l’Imperatore stesso non fa combaciare le sue parole con le sue decisioni. L’ambiente adatto per un Rougon che si trova a suo agio e riflette la sua natura:

« C’était, chez lui, un amour du pouvoir pour le pouvoir, dégagé des appétits de vanité, de richesses, d’honneurs.»


Nulla da fare. Più leggo Zola, più mi convinco che la questione non è semplice come ci voleva far credere.
L’umanità analizzata sotto la lente di un microscopio; provette ed alambicchi che si servono dell’inchiostro. Tutto registrato: fisionomie, comportamenti, psicologia di ogni uomo e/o donna che nel suo ambiente lascia tracce indelebili e statiche.
Lo scrittore col camice: osservare, ipotizzare, sperimentare, analizzare, dimostrare et voilà!: ecco la Letteratura figlia della scienza.
L’opera d’arte sotto un vetrino è pronta all'uso per documentare come l’ambiente e la genetica producano l’uomo.
E lo scrittore che fine fa in questo asettico laboratorio?
Il suo ruolo si deve attenere al metodo e non metterci becco; trascrivere solo le cose come l’occhio le registra.
Ma allora, mi domando, cosa ci fa il sottile sarcasmo?
Come è possibile che ci sia un’evidente ironia?
Sarà un azzardo ma io vi confesso cosa penso da un po’.
Penso che, ovviamente, Zola avesse veramente fede nel naturalismo ma che, in fondo, fosse solo uno strumento necessario a fare un po’ d’ordine ad un mondo sociale dolorosamente caotico.
Lo spessore inquietante delle ingiustizie da un lato, la corruzione e l’ambizione perfida dall'altro.
Se ogni ambiente forma l’individuo ecco che la genetica dona le armi.
Zola come imparziale scienziato della Letteratura, secondo me, non esiste.
Più leggo i suoi romanzi, più trovo lo sdegno umano nei confronti delle prepotenze.

[Sergio · Rating 4 out of 5]

Dal titolo altisonante “Sua Eccellenza Eugene Rougon” è già espresso che il protagonista assoluto di questo episodio della lunga saga dedicata dallo scrittore Emile Zola [1940-1902] ai Macquart-Rougon, è l’avvocato Eugene Rougon che si è fatto strada a Parigi fino a diventare presidente del Consiglio di Stato al tempo di Napoleone III: uomo possente nel fisico, astuto e intelligente politico, abile oratore, sopraffino conoscitore dell’animo umano, Eugene si disimpegna abilmente tra intrighi politici, intrallazzi di governo, postulanti insistenti che in nome dell’amicizia e del sostegno politico non sono mai sazi di chiedere favori, politico capace di risorgere dopo ogni sconfitta perché sa dove spinge il vento della politica, degli interessi dell’Imperatore e del Governo. Intorno a lui, come marionette insaziabili piroettano i suoi sodali, pronti a rinnegarlo e schernirlo dietro le quinte nei momenti difficili ma altrettanto pronti a circondarlo di premure e richieste quando il vento torna a soffiare favorevole. Su tutti gli altri personaggi del romanzo spicca la figura femminile di Clorinde Balbi, giovane e avvenente donna di origini italiane che si innamora del protagonista ma ne viene respinta diventando il suo più fiero avversario personale e politico. Romanzo grandioso per intenti e obiettivi, “Sua Eccellenza Eugene Rougon”, pubblicato nel 1876, è un eccellente opera sociale e politica e un tassello fondamentale della nota saga ottocentesca.

[Janelle · Rating 5 out of 5]

Oh, I loved this one! I was a bit nervous about it, too much French politics might be hard to get through but no, it was brilliant! It may be specifically set in the Second Empire but so much was relatable from the second chapter where Eugene Rougon is in his office after resigning the presidency and going through all his papers and burning much of it (paper shredders anyone?) to all the cronyism, corruption, long winded speeches, authoritarianism, spies, hangers on etc, etc.
The book follows the political ups and downs of Eugene Rougon set primarily amongst professional politicians and the imperial court. The other major character is Clorinde Balbi, a young woman looking for a husband, rejected by Rougon but she uses her influence first to reinstall him then eventually to bring about his downfall. The descriptions and writing is of course excellent and this particular edition has fantastic notes and introduction that fill out much of the relevant historical detail. A wonderful read!

[E. G. · Rating 4 out of 5]

Introduction
Translator's Note
Select Bibliography
A Chronology of Émile Zola
Family Tree of the Rougon-Macquart

--His Excellency Eugène Rougon

Explanatory Notes

[Gary Inbinder · Rating 5 out of 5]

Man is a political animal.
Aristotle

Aristotle defined man as an animal that lives in a polity as distinguished from animals that live in nature. A polity is an organized society governed according to a system. In The Republic, Plato described five such regimes: aristocracy; democracy; oligarchy; tyranny; timocracy. Modernly, we may add other forms of government to the list, but simply put, with the exception of a hermit living in the wilderness, we are all political animals.

Politics concerns itself with activities involving the authority of government and the exercise of power in the name of the state, regardless of whether the system is representative (republican/democratic) or non-representative. A politician is a person skilled in the acquisition and exercise of political authority. Eugene Rougon is a politician; the exercise of power is his raison d'être.

Lord Acton wrote, “Power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men, even when they exercise influence and not authority: still more when you superadd the tendency or the certainty of corruption by authority.”

Regarding Eugene Rougon’s primal need for power, Zola wrote: “He loved power for power’s sake, free from any vain lust for wealth or honours. Crassly ignorant and utterly undistinguished in everything but the management of other men, it was only in his need to dominate others that he achieved any kind of superiority. He loved the effort involved, and worshipped his own capability.”

Eugene depends on his gang, a coterie who calls their patron “the great man”. In exchange for his followers’ support, the great man dispenses favors: government jobs, promotions, decorations, business concessions, advantageous introductions, favorable resolutions of legal claims and so forth: The quid pro quo that is essential to politics.

The novel begins in a crisis. A rumor is circulating that the great man has resigned from his high position over a minor dispute with the Emperor. His coterie is frantic; they all stand to lose from their patron’s fall from grace. When the rumor is confirmed, they are despondent, but they soon rally. They believe in Rougon’s ability to regain power, at which time they will all make claims based on their continuing loyalty to their patron.

Rougon appears to have only one weakness; a young, beautiful, unconventional, Italian noblewoman, Clorinde Balbi.
“Clorinde had become an enigma which began to obsess him as much as any delicate question of high politics. He had lived his life thus far in disdain of women, and the first woman to whom he was attracted was without doubt the most complicated creature imaginable.”

The middle-aged bachelor calls Clorinde “Mademoiselle Machiavelli”; he detects in her a lust for dominance over others that equals his own. She in turn sees Rougon as her pathway to power by way of marriage. They enter into a mentor-protégé relationship in which Rougon reveals much about himself while Clorinde plays her cards close to the vest. All the while, she plots a game of seduction calculated to ensnare the great man.

“Drawn into the game, intoxicated by it, Rougon dreamt merely of making this beautiful woman his mistress, after which, to prove his superiority, he would cast her aside. It was thus a contest less of desire than of pride.”

The game culminates in a scene in Rougon’s stables where Clorinde repels his crude advances with her riding crop. Despite the attempted rape, Clorinde still expects a marriage proposal. Rougon, on the other hand, decides that she’s too ambitious, volatile and unpredictable for a spouse. She’s outraged when Rougon suggests she marry his private secretary, the wealthy, handsome, mediocre and malleable Delestang. Always calculating, she accepts Rougon’s suggestion while vowing revenge against the great man. She decides to help build him up, only to take an important hand in his ultimate destruction.

Rougon, in turn, marries the nondescript, docile middle-aged sister of a powerful judge who Rougon considers to be an important political ally.

The Kill Metaphor:
Zola uses the same extended metaphor he used in La Curée (The Kill), a novel about Eugene Rougon's speculating huckster brother Aristide. In the following scene, the ladies and gentlemen of Napoleon III's court are compared to the dogs of the Imperial kennels who are ritually fed the offal (La Curée) following the Royal Hunt.
“The dogs leapt forward and fell upon the offal, their savage barking subsiding into low growls as they shuddered in delight. The bones cracked. There was great satisfaction on the balcony and at the windows. The ladies smiled viciously, clenching their white teeth. The men breathed heavily, bright-eyed, some of them twirling toothpicks brought from the dining room.”

After Eugene regains power, with a little help from his friends, the metaphor returns as the gang barks and salivates like a pack of hungry dogs in anticipation of the favors they expect from their leader. However, it’s not long before the greedy hounds turn on their master and start nipping at the hand that feeds them.

His Excellency Eugene Rougon is an outstanding example of political satire, a genre dating back to Aristophanes’ 5th century B.C. Athenian plays. Highly recommended to admirers of Zola, those interested in the history of the Second Empire, lovers of caustic satire, and students of the rough and seamy game of politics.

[David · Rating 4 out of 5]

Hein, les machinations de politiques!

Charles Louis Napoléon Bonaparte was elected to power in 1848 but he seized power in 1851 after he was not re-elected. If at first you don’t curry support, seize the day. Victor Hugo and his republican friends tried in vain to thwart this coup d’état, In 1852 he was proclaimed emperor Napoleon III.

It was a double edged sword for France. Napoleon III modernized the country, expanded the army and navy and made roads to progress. When you make progress, you make enemies. The republicans went into hiding. One day in 1858, on his way to the opera Garnier, three bombs were thrown at the carriage of the emperor. Killing eight people, but not the regents, the Italian bomb thrower Orsini was arrested.

Our man Eugene Rougon, son of Pierre and Félicité Rougon (La Fortune des Rougon), was named Minister of the Interior. In response to the assignation attempt, the iron fist method was employed. Its good to make the people tremble, he quipped. Even better to lock them up.

Yup, power. Nothing like it. Especially for Eugène.

Getting there has been a struggle. You rally your friends for support, they in turn ask for favours. You shine to get the notice of the emperor. Promises, promises, promises.

Vive la République!

Your nemesis is an Italian woman, Clorinde. She is young, beautiful and equally as smart as yourself. An affair sounds simple but she can be very dangerous. So you marry her off to a rich friend, Delestang. Ah, more favours. But be careful. She might bite the hand that feeds.

One scandal after another. But one scandal goes too far. A simple arrest ends with a death. It attracts the ears of the emperor. Just doing my job and depending the crown, admits humble pie Eugène. Tsk, tsk.

The emperor states to Eugène that it appears that his friends must truly love him. Actually, in a candid admission, he states that they hate him.

C’est vrai. He hasn’t returned the favours to his friends, who all admit this to Clorinde, who in turn has the favour of the empress. When it’s time to call in the cards, and in this case, your friends, you just might have bitten off more than you needed.

But you know a politician. Power corrupts, but we politicians all strive for that power. When opportunity knocks, answer.

“C'est de la bien mauvaise politique.” So true.

[Roman Clodia · Rating 3 out of 5]

He loved power for power's sake, free from any vain lust for wealth or honours. Crassly ignorant and utterly undistinguished in everything but the management of other men, it was only in his need to dominate others that he achieved any kind of superiority.

Thus Eugene Rougon, first introduced in The Fortune of the Rougons, now in power at the Imperial court of Napoleon III. This was the 6th book written in Zola' s Rougon-Macquart series but the second in his recommended reading order. A savage indictment of the venial, corrupt and sycophantic nature of politics in its time, it remains relevant as it holds up a mirror to governments and politicians we recognise today: self-interested, cynical, scheming and back-stabbing, more interested in power and the status authority confers than in serving an electorate or country.

This isn't, to be honest, one of Zola' s best books partly because its intention is too manifest. However, Clorinde, the beautiful daughter of an Italian countess, adds much needed colour to the character list and it's her sexually-inflected duel with Rougon which gives interest to the satire, blending gender and sexual politics into the mix.

Definitely not a place to start with Zola but important to any completists wanting to read the whole Rougon-Macquart series. The OUP edition is translated unobtrusively with a brief introduction and limited explanatory notes.

[Cleo · Rating 4 out of 5]

I had met Eugène Rougon in Zola's first book of the Rougon-Macquart series, The Fortune of the Rougons. The oldest son of Pierre and Felicité Rougon, he had been stationed in Paris, working for the cause of Louis-Napoléon Buonaparte as Emperor Napoleon III. In Son Excellence, Eugène Rougon, we encounter Rougon as a man in disgrace, a man who has offended the Emperor and who has decided to resign before he is formally removed from office. As he packs up his documents, a myriad of characters flow in and out of his office, almost in the formation of a dance, and each individual is as colourful as the next. Yet as the respective characters speak their piece, the dance turns into a circling of sharks, as they all wonder how their position will be affected by Rougon's fall and how much he can still impact their various personal causes.

The book chronicles the political scene in Paris during the government of the Second Empire under Emperor Napoleon III. Through Rougon, we see the political machinery grinding through the career of a politician; his fall from favour, his subsequent rise through the help of his sycophantic supporters, their fickle desertion, and so forth. Behind the glamorous facade of the Second Empire, manipulation, betrayal, coercion, conspiracy and fraud seep from between its seams, and only the clever and opportunistic will survive.

Chameleon-like Rougon is a man who knows how to bend with the force of political volatility. Initially, after giving his resignation, he is slow, methodical and patient, rather like a toad waiting in the mud for an insect to come buzzing around his head. Yet when he regains his title as minister, he comes alive; robust, loud, and outspoken, he soaks in the approbation of those around him while ruling with a heart of iron. Yet Zola does a marvellous job of retaining his provincial nature; his sometimes wild, untamed speeches and stubborn and shortsighted actions reveal a man who has not been able to completely shake off the country dust of his origins.

Zola's prose is so exquisitely compact, yet with it he constructs such a wide scope for the reader. I felt I was really present during the baptismal procession for the Imperial Prince; I sensed the barely suppressed excitement in the air, the feel of the crowds and people pressing against me, the impatience, the festivity. Zola doesn't just allow us to view the Second Empire with words; he takes us right into its grandeur, its character and the various intrigues that gnaw at its foundations.

This novel is not amongst Zola's most popular books of the Rougon-Macquart series, but I really, really enjoyed it for its dynamic appeal and attention to detail. Can Zola write a poor novel? Somehow I don't think so.

(translation by Ernest A. Vizetelly)

[Ayşe · Rating 5 out of 5]

Si vous avez lu les premiers tomes des Rougon-Macquart, vous n'êtes pas sans savoir que le nom d'Eugène Rougon apparaît souvent. On ressent les traces de son influence notamment dans La Fortune des Rougon où il facilite ses parents à s'emparer du devant de la scène politique à Plassans mais aussi dans La Curée où il aide son frère Aristide Saccade à s'enrichir sur la spéculation immobilière à Paris. 

Dans ce roman, il sort enfin de l'ombre. 
Après une brillante carrière politique, Eugène pose sa démission. Or ses amis opportunistes voient en lui une manière d'obtenir ce qu'ils souhaitent. Ils le poussent alors à se présenter à nouveau sur la scène politique et guettent attentivement son succès prochain. 

Animé par un puissant besoin de domination, celui-ci ne refusera pas de détenir du pouvoir entre ses mains et d'en user. Il comprend tout de suite où cette petite bande veut en venir et n'hésitera donc pas à user d'eux aussi lorsqu'il en aura besoin. 
Ces amis qui seront ses ennemis de demain...

Dans ce tome, Zola dresse un portrait du milieu politique du Second Empire. Avec précision et férocité, il dénonce le cynisme et la cruauté de ce régime qui n'hésite pas à traquer ceux dont les idées s'opposent aux siennes. 

Si en pratique tout est décidé au sein des institutions (qui par ailleurs sont décrites) en réalité c'est dans les salons, les alcôves, où tout se manigance. Clorinde Balbi, cette femme rusée et provocante, est l'une des figures principales de ces évènements mais aussi le fil conducteur du récit puisqu'il y a entre elle et Rougon un jeu ambigu mêlé de désir, de jalousie et d'ambition qui s'étalera sur des années. Lui est le maître, elle l'apprentie qui le surpassera mais restera toujours admirative de sa personne. 

Bien qu'il ne soit pas le plus apprécié de cette saga, ce roman reste selon moi excellent. J'ai pris énormément de plaisir à le lire et vous invite à en faire de même. 

[Zara · Rating 5 out of 5]

This might be one of my favourite pieces of French literature. Loved it.

RTC.

[Emma · Rating 4 out of 5]

Well, hello, Donatien, fancy meeting you here…

This time, Zola’s forage into the sordid depths of human nature yields an actual reference to the Marquis de Sade, and there is indeed a lot of domination and submission in this one, metaphorical and otherwise. And quite a few whips. (Spoilers ahead)

Overall, I once again enjoyed this very much. It’s a little clumsy in places, and having skipped ahead to this one after reading the first 3 books in publication order, I’m struck by a slight shift in style and structure compared to the earlier novels; the chapters are much shorter and the descriptions seem to be spaced out with more dialogue and action. But the themes of politics and gender relations give this, for all its nearly 150 years, a surprisingly modern feel. I think I made a similar comment in one of my other reviews. Maybe I’ll stop being surprised by this at some point…

But back to the Marquis. At the top of the domination pile in this story is the emperor himself, who is at his apogee here: his authoritarian régime well established and an heir secured to satisfy his dynastic ambitions. But he is depicted as a mediocre man who makes vague, non-committal pronouncements and looks down the tops of seated ladies at parties, and who is easily manipulated by the more intelligent people who surround him. (I note that his Wikipedia page appears to have been written by someone who likes him a bit better than Zola, btw)

Prime among the ruthless who surround him is the now middle-aged Eugène Rougon. He is a powerful man, both physically imposing, with the large body of a wrestler, and a political force to be reckoned with, as we saw in La Fortune des Rougons and La Curée. Frugal and temperate, he is driven by a deep resentment of his years of powerlessness as the penniless lawyer son of the Rougons in Plassans, and seeks power for its own sake. When in power, he is a ruthless Minister of the Interior, censoring the press, harassing even the most innocuous of opponents, and using the police as a weapon to squash dissent. He pictures himself, whip in hand, dominating France itself.

Ironically, though, he’s the one who literally gets whipped in this story. Looking through the comments here, I was surprised at how many reviews didn’t mention Clorinde at all, even though I’d say she’s a driving force behind a great deal of the plot. She is the anti-Rougon: a beautiful, spirited young woman who does not abide by any conventions of her time: she is wealthy but possibly illegitimate; talks very loudly and wears odd clothes, or sometimes no clothes; keeps her private rooms in a state of total disarray and filth; and is a good illustration of the rather old-fashioned term “slovenly”.

Oh, and she’s Italian. Of course she is. If this was an English novel, she would be French. To be fair to Zola, though, the story takes place in the context of genuine Italian opposition to Napoleon III, so Clorinde’s nationality also helps explain her behind-the-scenes agitation in favour of the Empire. I’ll be generous and assume that’s the real reason for her being an exotic foreigner.

Needless to say, Rougon is attracted to her. Powerful and large as he is, and a quarter century older (at the start, she’s 22 and he’s 48), he imagines that Clorinde will be his if he snaps his fingers. Or just grabs her. The way he touches her is described as “rough” and early in the book, he fantasises about whipping her “like a little girl”. There’s a definite whiff of the kind of thing the #metoo movement is trying to stamp out.

Mind you, Clorinde does pretty well even without the worldwide wrath of women behind her. Early in the novel, Rougon manages to corner her in a stable after a long scene where his unsavoury intentions - and her understanding of his intentions - are pretty clear. She proceeds to thoroughly thrash him with a riding crop. (This comes straight after the reference to Sade.) After the thrashing, Clorinde dictates the terms of her possible surrender: marriage, because what else can a woman aspire to?

To his credit, unlike most middle-aged men in this situation, fictitious and otherwise, Rougon proves that he actually did do some maturing in those extra decades before the target of his lust was even born… He points out quite sensibly that given this unpromising start, if they married, they would end up destroying each other, so he turns her down and offers to set her up with his friend Delestang instead.

Delestang is indeed perfect for her: submissive, adoring, and just clever enough to be an effective politician once his far more intelligent wife has manoeuvred him into the right position. He proves his niceness by feeling so guilty at having sex with Clorinde while he thought she was unconscious (nice going, Romeo), that he actually marries her. You know, despite all the slovenliness. Rougon, meanwhile, marries a woman who is also perfect for him: only a decade younger, tidy, devout, and entirely silent. I’m not sure she even has a single speaking line.

Rougon and Clorinde get married to their respective spouses and live happily ever after…

Well, actually, that’s not even ironic, because they do. But first, there’s some more plot and a lesson about becoming a slave to the people you supposedly dominate. And not underestimating people just because they happen to be women.

It’s worth noting on that point that throughout the novel, Rougon expresses a fair amount of disdain for women’s intelligence. He evidently never met his own mother, the Félicité who so cleverly manoeuvred her husband into power in La Fortune des Rougons, or his sister, the all-purpose fixer of La Curée. There are none so blind as those who won’t see. This will, of course, be significant later.

With that prejudice in mind, he proceeds to underestimate Clorinde, who has vowed revenge for his rejection (she’s had far less maturing time than he has). When she plays the docile disciple, he instructs her with paternal condescension, and she uses what she learns to nudge Rougon’s posse of mediocre followers into a campaign to get the man back into power. I thought the chapter where all his friends abandon him in order to spur him into action was a little overdone, but the point is that like many powerful men through the ages, Rougon is as emotionally dependent on his sycophants as they are materially dependent on him. And it turns out material dependency isn’t all that strong a bond.

Rougon regains power by concealing his advance knowledge of the Orsini bomb plot in 1858 to take advantage of the aftermath, and Clorinde’s focus shifts to orchestrating his renewed downfall to get her revenge. To be fair, she gets plenty of help from Rougon’s posse, who make ever more outlandish demands for favours, and grow increasingly ungrateful, even as Rougon lumbers headfirst into some unpleasant situations on their behalf, culminating in offending the Church. Rougon has the occasional qualm, but shrugs this all off as he becomes increasingly unpopular. His “friends” start looking for other suckers to leech off.

However, Clorinde is the one who gets to gloat, publicly, when Rougon falls. The beleaguered Rougon has tendered his resignation, gambling that the Emperor will refuse it and make a show of support. If the Emperor accepts, though, he’ll be back in the wilderness again, and his “friends” will abandon him. Clorinde is the one who makes sure the Emperor accepts the resignation, securing this in a manner that (of course) befits the themes of the novel. Being a woman with few legitimate avenues to power, she’s previously manipulated some events by sleeping with powerful men; perhaps purely for the added fun of rubbing Rougon’s face in the fact that he isn’t one of them. This culminates in her becoming the Emperor's mistress. (His fan on Wikipedia helpfully tells me that Napoleon III had mistresses because his wife found sex “disgusting”. Right.).

The ghost of the Marquis makes another appearance when Clorinde, to show off her new status, volunteers at a charity sale wearing an actual dog collar with a chain and a tag with her initials and the Emperor's that says “I belong to my master”. Kinky stuff. However, her “submission” involves the Emperor doing exactly what she tells him: not only does he accept Rougon’s resignation, but he appoints Clorinde’s witless husband - the one Rougon convinced her to marry - to replace him. This woman has a keen taste for irony. She even takes the opportunity to point out that Rougon is wrong about women: they’re just as clever as men. Thank you, Émile, would you believe that we’re still having that argument 150 years later?

Meanwhile, Rougon is defeated and his friends abandon him. But he’s a politician, of course; setbacks are only temporary, every crisis merely an opportunity to crawl back into powers, and the former authoritarian atheist is soon back, shamelessly espousing democratic reforms and devotion to the Catholic Church. You could throw a stone in any political body anywhere and hit a dozen people like that.

So all in all, I enjoyed this. I’ll admit I like a bit of political intrigue anyway, and though I could have done without some of Clorinde's nonsense, the ultimate conclusion of her confrontation with Rougon was satisfying. The recurring theme of the dominant being ruled by the apparently submissive was fun to pick out in various settings, and maybe there’s even a hint of that in the resurgence of democracy right at the end. In a way, the fact that Rougon’s fall was only a temporary setback was satisfying as well, as a very realistic outcome under the circumstances; I wouldn’t want him in charge of my country but Rougon was a good character to read about. Roll on whatever the next book is…

PS: Ironically, I read the last chapter on the day that an opportunist politician of my youth, Bernard Tapie, died. Much like Rougon, he was, for a short while, a hard man to put down…

ETA: I've now summarised my (non-spoilery) thoughts on the entire series and listed some content warnings for all books on my review for the first volume

[Samuel Ainsley · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5

[LaCitty · Rating 3 out of 5]

Lettura per certi aspetti estenuante.
Le lunghissime descrizioni mi hanno provata. Ci sono stati momenti in cui avrei voluto prendere Zola e dirgli: "Hai finito di perdere tempo? Vuoi mandare avanti la storia?!?!", magari stringendolo un po' al collo e scuotendolo 😝
Però Zola è comunque un grande autore: la sua analisi delle dinamiche del potere descritte nel rapporto tra Rougon e i suoi tirapiedi, nei favori concessi o negati, nelle provocazioni e negli sguardi che si scambiano i parlamentari (un saluto negato, una testa che si gira) è magistrale e si esprime ancora meglio nel rapporto tra Rougon e Clorinda, un rapporto si chiude in modo quasi cavalleresco, ma che non si può che definire complesso e anche burrascoso.
Ho amato Clorinda nonostante non sia simpatica: è un'incredibile arrampicatrice sociale, una manipolatrice senza scrupoli, ma è anche una donna fortemente determinata a raggiungere i suoi obiettivi, costi quel che costi. Il suo personaggio da questo punto di vista è molto simile a quello di Rougon. Hanno la stessa motivazione, la stessa determinazione ferrea e irrefrenabile. Lei paga lo scotto di essere il "sesso debole" e quindi di dover lavorare nell'ombra, nonostante ciò dimostra tutta sua malevola genialità.

[Electra · Rating 4 out of 5]

Et hop le sixième est dans la poche.

[Léa s'égare · Rating 5 out of 5]

Peut-être l’un de mes préférés pour l’instant ! Je m’attendais à une lecture difficile car ancrée dans les réalités politique du Second Empire mais que nenni !

[Ruthiella · Rating 3 out of 5]

Seven years ago I read the first book in Zola’s 20 book cycle on Second Empire France. Finally I’ve gotten to the second book (the sixth in publication order but second in the recommended reading order). So in book one, readers were introduced to Eugen briefly. The focus was more on his parents and grandparents back in Plassans. Eugen Rougon is a lawyer who went to Paris and wound up on the right side of history, since he was one of the early supporters of then President, now after staging a coup, Emperor Napoleon III. However, when the book opens, Rougen is resigning his post in the national assembly. All those who relied upon him and his political power are astonished. But it would appear Rougen is playing a long game…will it pan out? And what about the beautiful Clorinde de Babi? The young and beautiful Italian noblewoman? What game is she playing?

I liked this book, though it was pretty heavy on the politics and I don’t think with either this or The Fortune of the Rougons (its been too long since I have read Germinal to remember if it is any different), that Zola is a particularly subtle writer. But definitely these first two books have been a great window for me on this particular historical period in France. The political aspect of this book, the cronyism, the corruption, etc. is however, not something left in history or unique to France or the Second Empire, I’m afraid.

[Edward Andreyev · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book and L'Argent (Money) are the only books of Zola's that I have read. I intend to read the remaining 18 in this series. Despite their relatively short length (~300 pages each), they took me weeks to read, and often lost me. I'm not sure whether this was Zola's style (he writes like an orator), or merely an issue with translation. Despite this - I would class both books as *essential* reading. I have not come across more pertinent books for our time. In HEER, the book's apex is in the last chapter wherein the protagonist delivers a crushing speech in Parliament in defence of 'liberal' values - despite being a diabolical authoritarian for the 12 chapters prior this event. This speech reads like something easily reconcilable with the modern day neo-liberal conservative viewpoint. A 'conservative's' defence of progress. Touching and sinister. A reminder that certain systemic (and logical) flaws are ever-present. Something that the author of 'J'Accuse...!' would have known well.

[Silvia · Rating 4 out of 5]

Politica e potere: il leitmotiv di questo capitolo cinico e tutt'ora attuale del ciclo zoliano, che indaga le dinamiche sviluppate intorno all'onorevole Eugene Rougon e alla società parigina sotto il Secondo Impero. Intrighi di corte, tradimenti, cambi di fazione politica, Zola mostra un Napoleone III fantoccio nelle mani di chi brama il potere.

[gufo_bufo · Rating 3 out of 5]

Decisamente più interessante del precedente, questo volume è interamente centrato sulla figura di Eugène Rougon e sulla sua carriera politica durante il Secondo Impero. La famiglia resta sullo sfondo (solo la madre Félicité viene di tanto in tanto citata di sfuggita), ma è prepotente il ruolo della provincia, perché la carriera di Eugène si fonda sugli amici del tempo della miseria, sulla loro complicità, sul loro clientelismo, sul loro supporto, sulle promesse fatte loro e sulle loro attese e pretese. E’ la banda dei clientes che lo attornia quando Eugène - sentendo prossima la caduta - preferisce dimettersi, e lo sostiene e lo risospinge al potere per fame di favori; e al momento in cui ritorna in auge lo spinge a favoritismi, crudeltà ed eccessi purché siano esaudite le loro insistenti richieste; è la stessa banda che decreta la sua fine, salvo essere pronta a sfruttarlo nuovamente quando per la terza volta arriva al potere.
La struttura narrativa è salda, simmetrica: di ognuno dei postulanti conosciamo la storia e i bisogni, presentati in un primo tempo come obbligazioni assunte da Rougon che si trova invischiato nella rete delle promesse fatte; in un secondo momento viene messo in scena l’adempimento dei desideri, e infine l’ineluttabile rovina del potente protettore che si è spinto ultra petita.
I personaggi sono modellati con rilievo ben più vigoroso del primo volume. Di Eugène ricordo l’imponenza fisica di stampo contadino, la forza e la calma che sa imporsi nei momenti di crisi, la brama di potere; ma quello che veramente campeggia nel romanzo è il personaggio di Clorinda, la bella italiana che tira i fili della vicenda. Sporca, sciatta, intrigante, calcolatrice, vendicativa e vendicattiva, più superstiziosa che religiosa, disinteressata al sesso ma capace di servirsene con fredda determinazione, servita da una cameriera e un valletto, come lei italiani, che sembrano maschere della Commedia dell’Arte: chissà quanti stereotipi dell’italianità ha riversato Zola in questi personaggi. A Clorinda, col suo improbabile nome letterario, fa da contraltare la moglie di Eugène, magra e giallognola, beghina e perbene, discreta e anonima (di lei non so neppure il nome di battesimo, e non ricordo che abbia pronunciato una sola parola in tutto il libro), amministratrice oculata e fedele, fornita di tutte le doti tranne il fascino.
Sono stata costretta a un piccolo ripasso di storia, necessario per seguire lo svolgimento dei fatti, dalla repressione delle libertà fondamentali allo sviluppo dell’economia ai rapporti con l’Italia e Cavour; e di questo sono molto grata a Zola. Ma ancora di più mi ha divertito cercar di identificare gli echi di altri libri che mi si sono destati nella memoria: lo scheletro della narrazione è puntigliosamente simmetrico come quello del “Conte di Montecristo” (che per altro è incomparabilmente più ricco di invenzioni), la manipolazione di Rougon da parte della sua cricca mi ha ricordato l’opera di convincimento/costrizione operata dalla famiglia sulla futura Monaca di Monza (ma la finezza di Manzoni è insuperabile), gli atteggiamenti provocanti e puttaneschi delle signore per bene impegnate nella vendita di beneficenza hanno un perfetto parallelo nel “Piacere” di D’Annunzio, la stessa figura di Clorinda ha dei punti di somiglianza con alcune donne perdute di Dostoevskij. Non so se queste suggestioni fossero nell’aria, se esprimano lo spirito del tempo, o se qualcuno sia stato influenzato da qualcun altro: fatto sta che Zola mi ha fatto pensare ad alcuni dei miei autori preferiti, pur senza superare nessuno di loro, e questo già mi va bene.

[Tiffany · Rating 4 out of 5]

J'ai adorée ! Cette plongée dans le monde politique au sein du Second Empire était époustouflante. Toutes les messes basses, les coups de poignard dans le dos, les coucheries, les dérives du pouvoir...Tout y est. Mention spécial pour le personnage de Clorinthe qui, pour moi, se hisse haut la main au podium des meilleures héroïnes des Rougon-Macquart.

[Cryssilda · Rating 3 out of 5]

J'ai failli abandonner à la moitié du livre. C'était trop trop politique sans intrigue secondaire... et puis je me suis laissée embarquer dans la deuxième partie du roman.. pour que la toute fin m'ennuie de nouveau mortellement... J'espère que le tome suivant suivra davantage l'esprit du premier !

[Carole Samson · Rating 2 out of 5]

Premier R-M chiant, triste nouvelle. (Oui j’écris R-M, je maîtrise le sujet et n’ai plus le temps en fait…)

[J.M. Hushour · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is the second novel in Zola's recommended reading order of "Les Rougons-Macquart". Zola breathes fever into the dictum that "man is wolf to man". The book centers on Eugene Rougon, the oldest son of that branch of the family. Rougon is intimately involved as Minister in several Second Empire governments, knows the Emperor, and has a coterie of ravenous political hounds for whom he is the alpha male. The imagery of rabid dogs is used throughout. Rougon himself is styled as the old man of the pack who sits back and waits for the others to take down the kill before he dives in to rend the better part of the flesh. Political intrigue is a main theme, obviously and the tale bears relevance for contemporary times with its shocking conniving, opportunism, and outright lying which the characters use to get what they want, namely power. It is also a love story, which may seem secondary but I think is crucial. Note: read the Alec Brown translation. This hasn't been translated in 60 years?!

[Elizabeth (Alaska) · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is pure politics of the Second Empire. The preface by the translator Vizetelly indicates this is a very good description of what it was like during the reign of Napoleon III.

I found myself continuously comparing it to current events. I think one could find something to nod in recognition during almost any presidency as I'm sure there is always at least one event/policy that steps out of bounds. It seems Napoleon lived entirely for the purpose of abuse of power. Did his puppet ministers invent the spoils system? Probably not, but they were adept!

I'm glad to have read it and I think and important piece in the Rougon-Macquart series. However, there is little to recommend it to those who will not be reading the entire series or who are not especially interested in this period in history.