But Zola, though he suffered secretly,—all unjust attacks brought him the keenest suffering,—hid it, and passed on.
There was a touch of humanitarianism even in his next book, "L'Œuvre," for it set forth many of the evils of bohemian life, and embraced an appeal for woman in the person of the unhappy Christine, its heroine. Critics may shake their heads, indeed some have done so, and say sapiently: "All this was not art." They may laugh, too, at the idea of reforming the world by novels. But even if, judging Zola by some of his books, one may occasionally feel inclined to set no very lofty estimate on his artistry, surely the trend of his works, the knowledge of their aim, the circumstances under which they were written, must increase one's respect for their author as a man. And, after all, what is the mere artist? As often as not he is penned within a fanatical creed, bound to narrow formulas, blind to everything beyond them, full of prejudice, and even more ridiculous at times than the Philistines at whom he rails.
As "L'Œuvre" dealt chiefly with the art-world of Paris at a certain period of the Second Empire, it revived some of the passions which Zola had kindled by his championship of Manet. By certain painters the book was roundly abused when M. Charpentier published it early in 1886,[60] on the completion of the issue in the "Gil Blas." This time the demand was not great, for by its nature "L'Œuvre" appealed more particularly to a limited class of readers. Perhaps its sales would have been even smaller had not Zola woven into his narrative so much interesting information concerning himself in his earlier years.
No sooner was he delivered of this book than he turned to the novel on the French peasantry which had been in his mind at the beginning of 1884. Already at that time he had given it considerable thought, made notes, studied his subject in books and periodicals; and he now took up the work of preparation in real earnest. At the very outset he had decided to lay the scene in or near the great grain-producing region of La Beauce, in some degree because this would enable him to deal, en passant, with certain economic questions, such as the importation of American wheat, but more particularly because both his mother and his grandmother, Madame Aubert, had been Beauceronnes, and in his younger days he had often heard them talk of that part of the country, which presents various features of interest. La Beauce proper is certainly flat and monotonous, but its confines are picturesque, and Dourdan, Auneau, Orgères, and other localities are associated historically with the horrible crimes of the desperadoes known as chauffeurs, who roamed the region early in the nineteenth century. A strain of brutishness was long to be observed among some of the inhabitants. Withal, they are essentially French, that is of the borders of the Ile de France, for there is no fixed type of French peasant. Those of Provence, Languedoc, Burgundy, Normandy, Brittany, and other parts, all differ from one another in important characteristics. Thus generalisations on the subject of the French peasantry may occasionally become ridiculous.
Nevertheless, at the period selected for Zola's work, that of the Second Empire, a general resemblance was to be found among them in two respects. In the first place their ignorance was very great. The Imperial Government which did a good deal to ameliorate their lot materially, did as little as possible to enlighten and elevate their minds. They were, so to say, the backbone of the régime, and their ignorance was its safeguard. At the elections they were led like sheep to the polling places to vote for the official candidates. All that, however, belongs to the past. Many changes have occurred during the last thirty years, and without entering here into the question of the religious and secular schools, it may be said that under the Third Republic more has been done than at any previous time for the education of the peasantry. Some brutishness persists in various regions, but all who remember how widespread was illiteracy before the War of 1870 know that great improvement has been effected.
To-day, however, even as was formerly the case, there is still one trait common to the French peasantry generally. As in other countries there has been, and is still, a great exodus from the rural districts to the towns; but those who remain at home are distinguished by their earth-hunger, their all-consuming passion for the soil. The historical explanation of this is perhaps as follows: For centuries the peasantry possessed little or nothing, and when the Revolution at last placed the land in their hands absolutely, a craving which had descended from generation to generation was satisfied. They seized the land eagerly, they clung to it fiercely, fearful lest it should be taken from them, as, for instance, when the Bourbons returned, and many of the old noblesse sought the resumption of their estates. And old-time feelings, the covetous cravings of ancestors, the desperate tenacity of the generation of 1815, have descended to the peasants of to-day, and were perhaps even stronger among those of the Second Empire, with whom Zola proposed to deal in his novel "La Terre."
It was in part on the peasant's brutish ignorance, and more particularly on his earth-hunger, that he resolved to base his book. The following extract from one of his letters[61] will show his intentions:
"'La Terre' will treat of the French peasant's passion for the soil, his long struggle to acquire possession of it, his crushing labour, his brief joys and his great wretchedness. He will be studied too in connection with religion and politics, his present condition being explained by his past history; even his future will be indicated, that is the part he may possibly play in a Socialist revolution. All that, of course, will lie beneath the drama unfolded in the book, the drama of a father dividing his land among his children before his death, whence slow and abominable martyrdom will ensue, a perfect tragedy setting some sixty characters, an entire village of La Beauce, in motion; without counting a secondary plot, the passionnel side of the story, a quarrel between two sisters, separated by the advent of a man, still and ever in connection with a question of land. To sum up, I wish to do for the peasant what I did in 'L'Assommoir' for the Paris workman, that is, recount his history, manners, passions, and sufferings, such as environment and circumstances have fatally made them."
In the spring of 1886 Zola started on a tour of investigation. He already had some personal knowledge of the region where he proposed to lay the scene of his story, having gone there in his mother's time, but that was long before he thought of writing "La Terre." Among the places he now visited was Châteaudun, where one finds him early in May, whence he writes a friend an interesting letter which Mr. Sherard prints, and a portion of which one may venture to quote here: