Somewhere within the spectrum occupied by anything from Romeo and Juliet to Tromeo and Juliet, there is a well-trodden path full of whispers, whimpers and piercing screams about the miseries of the love process. Whether you are tragically in love with your enemy's hottie boomdottie tween daughter or banging your best friend's girlfriend in an alleyway behind a bar all 2-minute-meal-style, Jonathan Richman had it almost exactly right when he explained to his (soon to be) adoring fans that "true love is not nice." As an afterthought to Johnny Boy's sage words, I would like to extend that lyric to include the concept of "true lust." Because there is (sadly, more often that not, though not ideally) a difference. "True Lust" in the sense that I am speaking of is an extension of infatuation, a sudden amorous obsession for another person fueled by the fact that your feelings for this individual (and the ensuing gropings and fornication-sessions) are wrong, dirty, hedonistic, secret, crass, selfish, and therefore exciting. People become bogged down by their lives, relationships go stale, the same old somebody starts to feel like a fly to shoo away, and you start cocking your head sideways in search of something (someone) new to serve as a sort of febreeze bottle for your life, your sense of self-satisfaction, and your general feelings of self-worth. Someone to fill the hole in your heart that really needs to be addressed by serious inner-dialogue rather than things like serial monogamy, cheating, hoeing around and the like. Unfortunately, we self-obsessed, naive, give-it-to-me-now modern folks tend to take the "easy" way out, and so we spread our legs and pray for a miracle, regardless of who and what we may leave in the dust behind us. We direct our own issues toward another individual, projecting our pain onto them as if they are going to absorb it like a sponge, ring it out, and make it all wash away 1, 2, 3. With the exception of a few well-known cases of controversial love gone right (June and Johnny, John and Yoko, etc), what generally happens despite our best efforts to combat it is the wind eventually shifts and the dirt flies back in our faces anyway...and usually with increased density. Oftentimes, the real killer is the guilt. Trust me when I say that sowing romance in the soil of controversy is like watering your seeds with lava. Well, this is a story about all that, however it is presented through a drastically heightened plot-line. You know, the old "I don't want to give up the money but I want to keep having sex with you all the time and my husband is really just in proper cock-blocking form about the whole thing, so obviously our only option is to kill him" prickly pickly conundrum. Before you get angry at me for spoiling the story, however, keep in mind that this is only the beginning of what transpires. Rather than wasting precious page-space on the elaborate thought-process leading up to this cold-blooded murder, Zola chose to focus his examination more closely on the aftershock of such a decision. The guilt...the way it kills passion, the way it eats you up inside and makes you detest whatever is associated with that acid-feeling in your stomach. You know, like that lover that was so important and true-lovey before. Through a series of brutal exchanges between the two main characters, Zola dissects the rationalizations we use to make shitty decisions which treat people like shit and turn us into shit, leaving us feeling all shitty in the end. Zola's perceptions about both the way we mask our true intentions and the way we rid ourselves of guilt are right on point. He knew. He has played this game before. Everyone has done wrong by someone else for the sake of their own immediate gain. And sometimes, that wrong-doing involves strangling and drowning someone. It will, however, come back to haunt you in the end. I will stop here, as this is about all that I can reveal without spoiling the story. Just know that there is some Raskolnikov-esque guilt-fueled lashing, but rather than directing it at themselves, the two lovebirds turn it on one another. And it gets...ugly. Butchya know...true lust is not nice, after all. Unless it is between two consenting adults who have, you know, actual love and respect mixed in there, as well. In which case by all means lust it up, kids. Get nasty astral.
"Sometimes people die," she murmured at last. "Only it is dangerous for those who survive."First of all, a slow clap for Kate Winslet's reading of Émile Zola's Thérèse Raquin. I can't recommend her rendition highly enough.A loveless marriage, a turbulent affair, a crime that will haunt them forever. In this novel we follow the story of Thérèse, her lover Laurent's and their descent into madness following their murder of her husband. Fair warning, there will be scenes of murder, physical abuse and slow psychological torture, ending in…something highly dramatic that I won't spoil. Thérèse Raquin is a brutal account of what happens when you throw a cast of deeply selfish egotists with conflicting temperaments together and see how it plays out._____________________________________As a sort of book extra, apparently Interior: The Rape by Degas is believed by some to depict a scene from Thérèse Raquin:Laurent carefully closed the door behind him and remained there a moment, leaning against it, staring into the room with an anxious, confused expression.A bright fire was burning in the grate, casting golden patches that danced over the ceiling and the walls. The room was thus illuminated by a brilliant, vacillating glow which dimmed the lamp set on a table. Madame Raquin had tried to arrange the room attractively, all white and scented, as though to serve as a nest for young lovers; the old shopkeeper had chosen to add to the bed a few bits of lace and to fill the vases on the mantel with big bouquets of roses. A gentle warmth lingered in the air, with soft odors....Thérèse was sitting in a low chair, to the right of the fireplace. Chin in hand, she was staring fixedly at the dancing flames, and did not turn her head when Laurent entered the room. Wearing a lace-edged petticoat and bed-jacket, she looked particularly pale in the bright firelight. Her jacket had slipped from one shoulder which showed pink through the locks of her black hair.Laurent took a few steps, not speaking. He removed his jacket and vest. In shirtsleeves, he glanced again at Thérèse, who had not stirred. He seemed to hesitate. Then he noticed the pink shoulder, and bent down to press his trembling lips against that bit of bare skin. The young woman pulled her shoulder away, turning around abruptly. She stared at Laurent with a gaze so strangely mingling repugnance and dread that he stepped back, troubled and uneasy, as if overcome with terror and disgust himself.
What do You think about Thérèse Raquin (2004)?
The original French text is available at Project Gutenberg.Free download available at [email protected] the audio version in English is available at LivriVox.And the BBC Radio 4 - Classical Serial dramatization is available here.And the audio version in French at Literature audio.com.This is the story of a love triangle between Thérèse Raquin, her cousin and husband Camille and Laurent, one of Camille's friends.In his preface, Zola explains that his goal in this novel was to "study temperaments and not characters". This book is considered an example of Naturalism.It is a novel (first published in 1867) and a play (first performed in 1873) which was originally published in serial format in the journal L'Artiste and in book format in December of the same year.There are some movie's version based on this book: Thou Shalt Not (1928); The Adultress (1953) with Simone Signoret, Raf Vallone, Jacques Duby. It was screened at the 14th Venice International Film Festival where it won the Silver Lion.
—Laura
Therese Raquin is not a very good novel. It does, however, have some very interesting parts. If you are a fan of noir fiction, you will easily pick up on some classic elements of the genre: two loser-lovers, a weak and whiney husband, a cast of additional characters that you also don’t like, and an increasingly oppressive atmosphere that blinks No Exit. For the first half of the book, all these elements mix nicely (or nastily). Therese Raquin, who is part north African, is, as a child, abandone
—Steve
Zola's preface to the second edition of this novel, which is included in the audiobook version I listened to, confirms that the work caused quite a sensation when it was first published in 1867. In the preface, Zola defends himself against charges of obscenity and states that the novel is in effect a detached and scientific study of the effect of temperament. While I'm not sure just how scientific and detached Zola really was, he was certainly scientific and detached enough for the novel to be regarded as an early example of naturalism.It's a great read, but only if you're interested both in psychology and in reading about deeply unpleasant people making very poor life choices. It features an unhappy marriage, adultery, murder, guilt and paranoia: all the fun stuff. But the prose is wonderful, the atmosphere Zola creates is dark and claustrophobic and the ending is full of suspense. I listened to a French language audiobook, available for free from this website. There's another free French language audiobook out there (this one). Avoid it at all costs. I listened to the first chapter and the narrator is simply awful.
—Kim
