"The Belly of Paris" (Le Ventre de Paris) is impossible to read without becoming both disgusted and obsessed at the thought of food. Zola is known for his fixation with realistic descriptions, and in this regard the novel is no disappointment.
"The Belly of Paris" is set in the famous 19th century Parisian food market Les Halles, bloated with meticulous descriptions of stinky cheeses, fatty sausages and the working-class merchants from which their sold. To the non-foodies among us-or just those with a full stomach-the constant description can become tiresome and, at times, squeamish. Yet it is the very intricacy of Zola's prose that is the novel's greatest strength.
"The Belly of Paris" is but one of twenty novels that comprise Zola's late 19th century series "Les Rougon-Macquart." In order to complete this collection, which follows the lives of an intricate family tree of alcoholics and schizophrenics under the Second French Empire, Zola spent years in the actual Les Halles taking notes and learning the complexity of working-class market culture. Thus the novel is essentially a fictionalized ethnography, and the depth of description (culminating in what has become known as the ‘symphony of cheeses') is a testament to the level of research and realism in its pages.
"The Belly of Paris" is full of gluttony and covetousness, an adept critique of capitalism. Zola is, as translator Brian Nelson notes, "the quintessential novelist of modernity." The entirety of "Les Rougon-Macquart" is an account of avant-garde social change. The subtitle of the series reads: "Histoire naturelle et sociale d'une familie sous le Second Empire" (Natural and Social history of a family under the Second Empire).
Zola is fascinated by naturalism and micro-level reactions to modernity, and the novel slowly develops a subtle, yet powerful, critical analysis of cultural ethos.
But far more glaring is the battle between skinny and fat, the trial of the decadent. Florent, remarkably thin-"the king of the Thin [sic] people, in Fact!"-returns to Les Halles after having been exiled on false accusations of murder. He returns from the countryside, significantly, as Nelson rightly notes in his introduction, from rural to urban, producer to consumer.
Florent finds comfort and work within Les Halles, a steaming buffet of over-indulgence, fat inhabitants and prominently sized breasts. His comfort is soon replaced by his intrinsic urge to conduct a political revolt.
Indeed, throughout the novel Florent's trim figure inspires distrust in the Les Halles inhabitants. His sister-in-law La Belle Lisa expresses her disdain indirectly, noting that "respectable" people do not allow themselves to be found in such a condition of need. Thus Zola's comprehensive prose, although tiring at times, is well worth the colorful picture that develops. The plot of "The Belly of Paris" is rather simplistic, and the relentless description and inconsequential gossiping often stagnates the series of events. But the end is well worth the means, and a careful reading unveils a wonderfully vibrant web of sub-meanings and allegory.
While reading I often thought that the novel, along with George Orwell's "Down and Out in Paris and London" and Upton Sinclair's "The Jungle," would make for an informative trifecta on working-class struggles and the stimulus for socialism movements in the 19th and 20th centuries.
And yet "The Belly of Paris" is not Zola's most lauded work; "L'Assommoir" and perhaps to a greater extent "Germinal" are widely considered his best works. But for those interested in Zola's writing, "The Belly of Paris" is a friendly—and short—introduction.
