Émile Zola

“ Woman was dressing herself again, the white wave of this fall of linen was returning again to the shivering mystery of the petticoats, the chemise stiffened by the fingers of the workwomen, the frigid drawers retaining the creases of the box, all this cambric and muslin, dead, scattered over the counters, thrown about, heaped up, was going to become living, with the life of the flesh, odorous and warm with the odour of love, a white cloud become sacred, bathed in night, and of which the least flutter, the pink of a knee disclosed through the whiteness, ravaged the world. ”

“ Retained by her young people, Madame Bourdelais could not get away from the fancy goods. Then came another group, Madame de Boves, still on De Vallagnosc's arm, and followed by Blanche, stopping in each department, still daring to examine the articles with her superb air. But amidst the crowded sea of customers, this sea of bodies swelling with life, beating with desire, all decorated with bunches of violets, as though for the bridals of some sovereign, Mouret could now distinguish nothing but the bare bust of Madame Desforges, who had stopped in the glove department with Madame Guibal. ”

“ There was a crowd before them, groups of women pushing and squeezing, devouring the finery with longing, covetous eyes. And the stuffs became animated in this passionate atmosphere: the laces fluttered, drooped, and concealed the depths of the shop with a troubling air of mystery; even the lengths of cloth, thick and heavy, exhaled a tempting odour, while the cloaks threw out their folds over the dummies, which assumed a soul, and the great velvet mantle particularly, expanded, supple and warm, as if on real fleshly shoulders, with a heaving of the bosom and a trembling of the hips. ”

“ It was rather cold in the shade, a sharp breese was blowing in the sunshine, extending far into the distance, on the other side of the river, the limpid parity of a plain dotted with cultivated fields. Denise lingered behind Pauline and her lover, who were walking with their arms round each others waists. She had picked a handful of buttercups, and was watching the view of the river, happy, her heart beating, her head drooping, each time Baugé leant over to kiss his mistress. Her eyes filled with tears. And yet she was not suffering. ”

“ Then he had been obliged to mount the stairs, go across a bridge, going still higher, turning about, amidst the longing looks of the employees in the linen, the hosiery, and the mercery departments, who followed him, gazing with ecstasy at this fortune travelling in the air. On the first-floor the employees in the ready-made, the perfumery, the lace, and the shawl departments were ranged with devotion, as on the passage of a king. From counter to counter a tumult arose, like the clamour of a nation bowing down before the golden calf. ”

“ Besides, if he had been foolish enough to close The Ladies' Paradise, another big shop would have sprung up of itself next door, for the idea was now starting from the four corners of the globe; the triumph of these manufacturing and industrial cities was sown by the spirit of the times, which was sweeping away the tumbling edifice of former ages. Little by little Mouret warmed up, and found an eloquent emotion with which to defend himself against the hatred of his involuntary victims, the clamour of the small dying shops that was heard around him. ”

“ Then Mouret, alone and pensive, crossed the shop once more. This scene, which had changed his thoughts from the struggle going on within him, now increased his fever, and decided him to make a supreme effort. A vague connection arose in his mind: the robbery by this unfortunate woman, the last folly of the conquered customers, beaten at the feet of the tempter, evoked the proud and avenging image of Denise, whose victorious grip he could feel at his throat. He stopped at the top of the central staircase, and gazed for a long time into the immense nave, where his nation of women were swarming. ”

“ They were now asking each other about Madame Marty; it was said that poor Monsieur Marty, after violent scenes at home, had gone quite mad; he was diving into all the treasures of the earth, exhausting mines of gold, loading tumbrils with diamonds and precious stones.
“Poor fellow!” said Madame Guibal, “he who was always so shabby, with his teacher's humility! And the wife?”
“She's ruining an uncle, now,” replied Henriette, “a worthy old man who has gone to live with her, having lost his wife. But she must be here, we shall see her.” ”

“ Immense metallic works rose up, ladders, bridges, describing a lacework of iron in the air; whilst the kitchen chimneys threw out an immense volume of smoke like a factory, and the great square cistern, supported in the air on wrought-iron pillars, assumed a strange, barbarous profile, hoisted up to this height by the pride of one man. In the distance, Paris was roaring.
When Denise returned from this dreamy state, from this fanciful development of The Ladies' Paradise, in which her thoughts floated as in a vast solitude, she found that Deloche had seized her hand. ”

“ And Mouret continued to watch his nation of women, amidst this shimmering blaze. Their black shadows stood out vigorously on the pale ground-work. Long eddies divided the crowd; the fever of this day's great sale swept past like a frenzy, rolling along the disordered sea of heads. People were commencing to leave, the pillage of the stuffs had encumbered all the counters, the gold was chinking in the tills; whilst the customers went away, their purses completely empty, and their heads turned by the wealth of luxury amidst which they had been wandering all day. ”

“ In the lace department the crush was increasing every minute. The great show of white was there triumphing in its most delicate and dearest whiteness. It was an acute temptation, a mad desire, which bewildered all the women. The department had been turned into a white temple, tulles and Maltese lace, falling from above, formed a white sky, one of those cloudy veils which pales the morning sun. Bound the columns descended flounces of Malines and Valenciennes, white dancers' skirts, unfolding in a snowy shiver down to the ground. ”

“ There was a pell-mell of ladies arrayed in silk, of poorly dressed middle-class women, and of bare-headed girls, all excited and carried away by the same passion. A few men buried beneath the overflow of bosoms were casting anxious glances around them. A nurse, in the thickest of the crowd, held her baby above her head, the youngster crowing with delight. The only one to get angry was a skinny woman, who broke out into bad words, accusing her neighbour of digging right into her. ”

“ The song of the white seemed to soar upward in the inflamed whiteness of an aurora. A white glimmer gushed from the linen and calico department in the Monsigny Gallery, like the first bright gleam which lights up the eastern sky; whilst along the Michodière Gallery, the mercery and the lace, the fancy-goods and the ribbon departments threw out the reflection of distant hills—the white flash of the mother-of-pearl buttons, the silvered bronzes and the pearls. ”

“ The room was full, a stream of people were crossing it, coming in by the door of the lace department and going out by the door of the under-clothing department, whilst to the right customers were trying on garments, and posing before the glasses. The red carpet stifled the noise of the footsteps, the distant roar from the ground-floor died away, giving place to a discreet murmur, a drawing-room warmth deadened by the crowd of women. ”

“ Then the abandonment became complete, they all made a butt of the “unkempt girl,” who lived in an hourly struggle, only managing by the greatest courage to hold her own in the department.
Such was her life now. She had to smile, look brave and gracious in a silk dress which did not belong to her, although dying with fatigue, badly fed, badly treated, under the continual menace of a brutal dismissal. Her room was her only refuge, the only place where she could abandon herself to the luxury of a cry, when she had suffered too much during the day. ”

“ Towards the Opera-house and the Bourse were the rows of waiting carriages, the harness still retaining the reflections of the bright light, the gleam of a lamp, the glitter of a silvered bit Every minute the cry of a footman was heard, and a cab drew near, or a brougham issued from the ranks, took up a customer, and went off at a rapid trot. The rows of carriages were now diminishing, six went off at a time, occupying the whole street, from the one side to the other, amidst the banging of doors, snapping of whips, and the hum of the passers-by, who swarmed between the wheels. ”

“ And he looked at the gap, the hollow space at last left free on the flanks of The Ladies' Paradise. It was like the crushing of a gnat, the final triumph over the annoying obstinacy of the infinitely small, the whole isle invaded and conquered. The passers-by lingered to talk to the workmen, who were crying out against these old buildings, only good for killing people.
“Monsieur Bourras,” repeated Denise, trying to get him on one side, “you know that you will not be abandoned. All your wants will be provided for.” ”

“ Bourdoncle obstinately repeated, in his cold way: “They will have their revenge; there will be one who will avenge all the others. It's bound to be.”
“No fear,” cried Mouret, exaggerating his Southern accent. “That one isn't born yet, my boy. And if she comes, you know——”
He had raised his penholder, brandishing it and pointing it in the air, as if he would have liked to stab some invisible heart with a knife. Bourdoncle resumed walking, bowing as usual before the superiority of the governor, whose genius, though faulty, had always got the better of him. ”

“ Denise, whose twenty-five francs a month was quickly swallowed up by the children, had only been able to do up her old black woollen dress, by trimming it with strips of check poplin; and she had also made herself a bonnet, a shape covered with silk and ornamented with a simple blue ribbon. In this simple attire she looked very young, like an overgrown girl, exceedingly clean, rather shamefaced and embarrassed by her luxuriant hair, which appeared through the nakedness of her bonnet. ”

“ Denise almost dropped the glass she had in her hand. “Oh! uncle—get married! How can you think of it? And the little ones!”
She was forced to laugh, it seemed to her such a strange idea. Besides, what man would care to have her—a girl without a sou, no fatter than a lath, and not at all pretty? No, no, she would never marry, she had quite enough children with her two brothers.
“You are wrong,” said her uncle; “a woman always needs a man. If you had found an honest young fellow, you wouldn't have dropped on to the Paris pavement, you and your brothers, like a family of gipsies.” ”

“ She considered life a matter of logic, good conduct, and courage.
Denise frequently questioned herself in this way. An old love story floated in her memory, the sailor's betrothed whom her love guarded from all perils. At Valognes she had often hummed over this sentimental ballad, gazing on the deserted street. Had she also a tender affection in her heart that she was so brave? She still thought of Hutin, full of uneasiness. Morning and evening she saw him pass under her window. Now that he was second-hand he walked by himself, amid the respect of the simple salesmen. ”

“ Then came the stronger fabrics: marvellous satins, duchess silks, warm tints, rolling in great waves; and right at the bottom, as in a fountain-basin, reposed the heavy stuffs, the figured silks, the damasks, brocades, and lovely silvered silks in the midst of a deep bed of velvet of every sort—black, white, and coloured—skilfully disposed on silk and satin grounds, hollowing out with their medley of colours a still lake in which the reflex of the sky seemed to be dancing. The women, pale with desire, bent over as if to look at themselves. ”