In the fiery rays of the sun on this youthful morning the country seemed full of that sound. Men were springing forth, a black avenging army, germinating slowly in the furrows, growing towards the harvests of the next century, and their germination would soon overturn the earth.
I’ve finally finished up a never-ending read of Zola’s Germinal and in honor of this experience, I thought I’d show the review-related haiku that I made up:
Crikey. This was a dark book – and “dark” in several different ways as well. It follows the lives and times of a village whose livelihood revolves around a company mine, and in so doing, Zola integrates his (many many MANY) thoughts on politics and socialism and the rights of workers.
It’s well written, that’s for sure, but from my own readerly perspective, the man really needs an editor to cut some text for him in the long run. (I am certain that he could have said the same thing but in fewer words.)
So, although I can’t say that I actually enjoyed this read, I am glad that I’ve read some more Zola now. (I enjoyed his other read, The Ladies Paradise here.)
More of a [raw] broccoli book than anything but glad I read it. Probably won’t read it again. 😉