Germinal

The language used to describe the Montsou miners reflects how the Company believes their value is dependent solely on their work. The commodification of the people is evident in the fact that as they work, the black grime that covers them makes them “indistinguishable from the loose coal surrounding them” (45)—the people, in the Company’s eyes, are equated with the coal. That the mining villages are known by numbers rather than names shows that to the Company, the miners lack individuality and are expendable.

Comparisons between the miners and animals not only suggest that the miners are subhuman in their facelessness but also that they are small and powerless. As the miners walk to work in the early hours of the morning, they are “a long line of shadows” that “tramped along, strung out like a straggling herd of animals” (25). Portrayed as hapless prey whose purpose is to fuel Le Voreux, they descend into the pit in cages as “meat loads” for the pit to “devour” (28). At the pit-bottom, one can hear “the teeming activity of human insects on the march” (38); the miners are “buried like moles” as they “simply went on tapping” (51). In the village, they live “herded together” and “penned in” (167). The comparison between miners and animals is made tangible in horses Battle and Trumpet, whose lives serve as metaphors for the lives of the miners. Battle, who had resigned himself to slavery within the mine, is literally crushed to death by its walls, and Trumpet dies young, having never adjusted to the loss of his freedom. Trumpet’s abandoned body in the snow is not unlike the miners’ being dismissed and forgotten by the Company.

Ironically, after generations of dehumanization, the people become like the animals the Company compares them to. When they meet in the forest the night before the riots, they are “a pack of starving humanity” with “shining eyes and bared teeth” (287). They become a violent, unstoppable force as, wild with fury and sick with hunger, they destroy the mines and attack workers indiscriminately. Even Étienne “bare[s] his teeth, like a wolf’s” (337). When Maigrat falls to his death, the women “prowled round him, nostrils flaring, sizing him up like she-wolves” (370) before mutilating his corpse. In the days that follow, when gendarmes guard the mines, the people walk about with “deceptive docility” like “wild animals in a cage” (377). The rioting people, in their hunger and forced subordination, are reduced to their basest animal instincts, and they attack like beasts when they are “unleashed” (287).

In the end, the defeated people run off “like a stampede of wounded cattle” (437); they reluctantly go back to work “with their noses to the ground like cattle being led to the slaughterhouse” (521). However, the novel ends not without hope that the people will rise above their meager station. Although some have argued that Zola’s depictions of the mob are insulting to the poor, readers may sense a deeper message. In the violent mob scenes, Zola depicts how desperate people fall back into their basest instincts. The hopefulness at the end of the novel suggests that the poor are in fact capable of intelligence and dignity. It is only their manipulation by those higher in the hierarchy that keeps them in their lowliness.

Germinal traces the process by which revolution is born. When he begins to plan the strike, Étienne must break through the miners’ inherent obedience to the Company, forged by generations of oppression. Bonnemort, despite his illness and the loss of family members, speaks with reverence and awe of the Company. Maheu and La Maheude are hesitant to rebel, bound by “their habitual state of inbred acquiescence” (216). Despite his anger, Maheu continually resists speaking up, for he is both loyal to “the quasi-military hierarchy […] which made them each subordinate to the person above” (54) and concerned with losing their jobs.

However, even cautious miners like Maheu, while outwardly accepting their subordination, privately grumble about the injustice of their working conditions and low pay. Étienne is horrified by this acceptance and wonders whether it is “possible that people could work themselves to death at such terrible labour […] and still not earn even enough for their daily bread” (55). As the Company devises more and more ways to cut the workers’ pay, “the spirit of resistance” (55) grows in Étienne, and even Maheu is drawn to the idea that one day they will “be the masters” (149).

M. Hennebeau notes that the Company has dealt with strikes in the past but that this strike is “better organized” (211). Étienne’s strike lasts longer than others and, while it fails to upend the hierarchy, opens a wound from which “the life-blood of the Empire would continue to drain” (530). Étienne’s strike is arguably more impactful because of his dedication to education, which reveals to him theories that help guide him on his quest for justice. A voracious reader, Étienne absorbs knowledge about a variety of governments and creates a repertoire of information that informs his planning. Although he struggles to implement abstract theories in a practical way, his continued growth leads him on a path to understanding until he lands on Darwin, whose scientific theories lay the groundwork for his own vision of the workers wiping out the bourgeoisie.

Étienne imparts his knowledge to the miners, educating them about political systems and about how “[a] new society would emerge […] in which each citizen would be paid the rate for the job and have his share of the common joy” (171). As he speaks, he “quote[s] various things he had read,” drawing “on every political system there was” and promising that one day, they would see “an end to class division” (172). He also opens a provident fund and invites Pluchart to speak with the miners about the International Workers Association. His work rousing the people to revolution culminates in a nighttime meeting in the forest, where he advocates for collectivism, promising the people they would take back the mines, destroying the “monstrous idol” of capital, which “had gorged on human flesh” (291).

Étienne passionately dedicates himself to acquiring knowledge, yet he fails to anticipate the brutal reality of revolution and is disturbed by the violence of the mob during the riots at the mines. To his dismay, he loses control of the strikers, who move en masse from pit to pit causing destruction and attacking other workers. He attempts to distract them and to minimize the damage as fury carries away even Maheu and La Maheude. Étienne watches with “astonishment and growing horror at these brutes he had unmuzzled, so slow to anger and yet once roused, so fearsome in the stubborn ferocity of their wrath” (359). He finds himself similarly out of control during the standoff with gendarmes at Le Voreux, where what was supposed to be a mere protest turns into a bloody shootout in which many miners die. Étienne finds that the use of reason is ineffective once the fury of the mob unleashes.

Inevitably, different factions within the revolution come to be at war with each other. Rasseneur, with his belief in moderation, and Étienne, with his more idealistic approach, diverge in animosity; similarly, in the International, extremists push out the traditionalists, ensuring the original goal is lost among “internal rivalries” (403). Souvarine, with his vision of blood and annihilation, is frustrated by the slowness of progress and, thinking gradualists cowards, punishes the Company and the workers alike by destroying Le Voreux. He symbolically attacks the beast of capital that has “devoured so much human fodder” (463).

Although the strike fails, it is a blow to “that squat and sated deity” (532), capital, whose growth is dependent on the suffering of the poor. Revolution is slow, and involves setbacks and disappointments, but like seeds “swelling and stretching” (532), it will one day break through the surface. This progress is only possible when education leads the people out of their blind obedience to their oppressors. 

Despite their suffering, the miners continue to resist defeat. Their industriousness and ability to adjust to ever more dire circumstances is a testament to human resilience and spirit. Catherine, tasked with the job of making sandwiches, stretches the family’s meager store, and she “somehow managed miraculously to leave a small knob” (87) of bread for La Maheude and Alzire. La Maheude believes that if the Grégoires do not give her a hundred sous, “she and her family might as well all lie down and die” (92); however, when the Grégoires refuse, rather than give up, La Maheude begs for credit from Maigrat who, despite having rejected her once, agrees to her request. As the strike continues and the people grow hungrier, they sell their belongings to buy food, even the stuffing in their mattresses, and they send their children out to pick dandelion leaves for salads. The people continue to scrape by, refusing to accept death even in the most desperate of times.

Étienne’s self-education and careful planning that goes into the protests is another way hope and industriousness are demonstrated in Germinal. Without any formal schooling, Étienne reads voraciously, learning everything he can about government and pushing past moments of insecurity and self-consciousness. He then patiently educates the people and sets up a provident fund. Despite the temptation to concede, his hope is renewed when a new idea inspires him—whether it be trying to bring the gendarmes to their side or utilizing Darwin’s theories to develop a more accurate social vision.

The human spirit is nowhere clearer than in Négrel’s determination to save the trapped miners after the collapse of Le Voreux. Négrel descends into the shaft despite the seemingly impossible odds of success. Miners flock to him to help, unconcerned about pay, only asking to “be allowed to risk their own lives to save” those trapped (485-86). Négrel consults with deputies to determine the best plan, even studying the mines’ blueprints. For nearly two weeks the miners drill into the ground. The saving of Étienne is the ultimate triumph of hope, and he and Négrel sob in each other’s arms, “both of them shaken to the very core of their humanity” (520). Étienne’s survival is evidence of hope even in and of itself: While trapped, he manages to maneuver through flooding roadways, eating rotten wood and belt leather to push off death.

Étienne tells the Maheus “[n]ow that God was dead, justice would be the means of human happiness” (171), suggesting that happiness, even if not had freely, is in reach. The miners, “ready to suffer in the pursuit of universal happiness” (228), continue striking despite their growing desperation. Even La Maheude, at first skeptical, supports the strike, allowing herself to enter “the fairyland of hope” (171). The people’s indomitable spirit and their refusal to accept defeat permeate the novel, even at the worst, most hopeless times. The survival of Étienne and of his revolutionary movements suggests human spirit is stronger than any obstacle. 

Women in Germinal play important roles—they are caretakers of the children, responsible for feeding their families, and often work in the mines. Catherine rises for work early and manages to make a “piece” for each working member of her family despite the scarcity of food. She is one of the best workers on Maheu’s team, impressing Étienne with her strength. La Maheude shows industriousness by walking with her two young children to La Piolaine to beg for money from the Grégoires. Alzire, only 8 years old, takes care of Estelle, even offering her breast when she runs out of sugar water to feed her.

However, women are also commodified and made powerless. Faced with starvation, women often offer their own bodies in exchange for food, credit, and other goods and services that will ease the lives of their families. Shopkeeper Maigrat notoriously accepts sex in exchange for credit. La Pierronne has an affair with the overman Dansaert and is encouraged to do so by her husband, who enjoys the “perks” (107) that make theirs the most well-stocked house in the village. Readers never know the miners’ wives first names, as they are referred to by a feminized version of their husbands’ names, indicating they belong to their men.

Women do not always give their bodies willingly. Like many miner girls, Catherine loses her virginity when Chaval rapes her in the field behind Réquillart. Although she resists Chaval, she succumbs to that “inborn passivity which, from childhood onwards, soon had mining girls like her flat on their backs in the open air” (132). From this point forward, Catherine does what he says, for he is “stronger” (232). She accepts frequent beatings and abuse—after all, “eight out of ten girls ended up no better off than she was” (415). She defends Chaval against the mob: It didn’t matter that he beat her, for “since he had taken her she belonged to him” (341). Catherine’s acceptance of her possession by Chaval demonstrates that just as the bourgeois convince the miners of their low status, men subjugate women.

Women face a double-standard, for any exhibition of their sexuality results in their being labeled as “sluts.” Society views sexually active women, whether willingly or not, as corrupted or unfeminine. Chaval accuses Catherine of sleeping with Étienne, calling her a slut even though he himself raped her. M. Hennebeau, though justifiably upset over his wife’s affair with Négrel, casts her as unnatural: Her affairs are “no more than a depraved form of play, the mere habit of having a man,” and he finds himself forgiving Négrel, who is a mere victim of her “perennial lust” (347). Even Étienne is not innocent of looking down on women’s sexuality. He holds women responsible for pregnancy, wondering why girls are “stupid enough come evening to make babies for themselves” (128). As he watches Chaval push Catherine toward the spoil-heap to rape her, Étienne shrugs off this act of violence, thinking, “If girls say no, it’s only because they like a spot of rough treatment first” (129). Girls and women are degenerate even when forced into sex. Tales of the “Black Man”—who, according to Catherine, “haunts the pit and strangles girls who’ve been bad” (49)—torment the girls.

In La Mouquette, Zola suggests that women possess depth and complexity despite their objectification. La Mouquette’s sexual exploits are well known and are the subject of jokes among the miners, who pass her along to each other in “a case of ‘after you, comrade, and no harm done’” (30). She is objectified even by her brother Mouquet, who gives her “an enormous whack across the bottom as a mark of brotherly affection” (63). However, La Mouquette impresses Étienne with her generosity when she offers food to an old woman dying in the street. Étienne is further impressed by the cleanliness of her room and the relative comfort of their home: La Mouquette, who has been earning money doing laundry, tells him, “Just because you enjoy a laugh with the lads doesn’t mean you’re lazy” (256). La Mouquette’s dying to save Catherine’s life further suggests the injustice of judging women for their sexuality.

The subjugation of women leads to their being the most vicious members of the mob. Étienne is most frightened of the women, who are “baring tooth and claw and snarling like dogs” (359). While the men are angry, the women are even more so, as both the bourgeois and men silence them. Their dismemberment of Maigrat—La Brûlé pulls off his genitals and shoves them onto a stick, which she then brandishes about—is revenge against this subjugation, a revolt against men who sexually objectify them.

The novel suggests there are few satisfying options for women. Catherine is terrified of ending up in a brothel, “which is what happened to putters who had no money and nowhere to sleep” (300). The lovelorn M. Hennebeau, wishing he could be “enough of a boor to beat his wife and pleasure himself with the woman next door” (356), demonstrates that bourgeois women may not be much better off. To be a woman in Germinal is to be sexually objectified, regardless of one’s status or position.

Previous generations have taught the miners that their place is to serve the Company. Their subordination is represented in Bonnemort, of a generation in which “the miner lived down the pit like an animal, like a machine for extracting coal, always underground, his eyes and ears closed to what was going on” (169). Throughout the novel, Bonnemort rejects the idea of protest, stating that in his day, “you were a miner, you worked your seam, and you didn’t ask for more” (168). After generations of oppression, the miners believe in the hierarchy even as it starves and oppresses them. As they trudge into Le Voreux in the dead of night, Maheu tells his family to be grateful for their “honest day’s work” (29). After Négrel scolds the men, “their sense of hierarchy held them in check, the quasi-military hierarchy from overman down pit-boy, which made them each subordinate to the person above” (54). Catherine is shocked to hear that Étienne hit his previous boss, for “it offended her own inbred belief that one should be subordinate and do what one’s told” (46). After his pay is cut, Maheu, though furious, tells Étienne they can only “[k]nuckle down and be grateful” (183).

The miners’ innate subordination is equally espoused by the bourgeois, who are stunned when the miners rise up and demand their rights. The Grégoires cannot fathom that the strike will last long, for “those miners were decent people” with “traditional quiescence” (207). M. Hennebeau scolds the deputation as if they are children disobeying their parents, lamenting that they “used to be so peaceable” (221). The bourgeois’ comfortable lifestyle depends on the miners’ blindly working and taking orders. Both the miners and the bourgeois believe in the inevitability of this hierarchy, in which the poor are less deserving of comforts.

At the end of the novel, La Maheude, telling Étienne that two more of her children are about to begin working in the mine, seems to suggest that the people remain accepting of their subordination, and she speaks “as though under the weight of destiny” (525). However, her belief that “the day of reckoning always came” suggests that “a shift had thus taken place” (526). La Maheude, like other miners, has awakened from “the blind acceptance inherited from previous generations” (526). They have seen that there is no inherent reason for their subordination, and they will no longer accept this destiny.

The miners work long days in torturous conditions, but they do not reap the benefits of their own work. Rather, the Company continues to cut their already meager pay to preserve their own bottom line during the industrial crisis. While the workers starve, the bourgeois live in luxury. However, the bourgeois’ exploitation of the poor goes beyond exploiting their work. The rich also use the poor to bolster their image. Mme. Hennebeau brings guests from Paris to see houses in village Two Hundred and Forty. She proudly tells them that the miners have “all the coal they need and more” and that a “doctor visits them twice a week” (108), concluding that “if anyone in Paris asks you about our villages,” her guests can respond that “people [are] living proper family lives” (109). That Mme. Hennebeau is simultaneously “repulsed by the vague odour of poverty that hung everywhere” (108) illustrates that she does not actually believe in, nor care about, the miners’ happiness.

The Grégoires similarly exploit the poor in their charity. They “defeated the distribution of alms to Cécile” because “[i]t was their idea of giving her a good education” (93). After the collapse of Le Voreux, they visit the Maheu home in order “to demonstrate the broad-mindedness of their charity […] by bringing alms” to the family (494). The Grégoires’ contentment with their goodness suggests that giving is at least in part for their own satisfaction.

Sex in Germinal is often a tradeable service. La Levaque sleeps with her lodger Bouteloup, for “[s]he was included in the rent” (105). La Pierronne has sex with Dansaert, to the full knowledge of Pierron, who “used to give the overman rabbits” (105) in exchange for “perks” (107) before it became “cheaper to lend him his wife” (105). Maigrat the shopkeeper is widely known to give women credit in exchange for sex. Even Étienne continues to sleep with La Mouquette so she will give him food he can pass on to the Maheus. Sex is commodified even in rape. Men routinely lay claim to women after raping them, including Chaval, who rapes Catherine for the first time after buying her a ribbon.

Sex is common in the village and, according to Maheu, “a pudding that didn’t cost anything” (118). The miners’ tight living quarters caused children to often spend unsupervised time together, leading to their growing up quickly. Many young, unmarried people have sex on the land outside Réquillart, and old Mouque, who lives in two rooms by the abandoned mine, cannot leave his house without stepping over couples.

Love itself, ironically, is often chaste, and when finally consummated, death comes soon after. Lydie and Bébert, after years of repressing affection for each other under the fearful watch of Jeanlin, “exchange soft kisses” (425) and hold each other all night when Jeanlin fails to arrive; the next day, they are killed as they hold each other, shot to death by gendarmes at Le Voreux. Catherine and Étienne resist each other until they are trapped together in the roadways of Réquillart; not wanting “to die before knowing happiness,” they finally have their “wedding night” (518), and Catherine dies the next morning. In a world full of obstacles—Jeanlin prevents Lydie and Bébert from being together, as does Chaval’s dead body in the roadways of Réquillart—happiness in love is hard to come by, and when it is achieved, it comes with a dear price.

Germinal offers many examples of lovelorn people. M. Hennebeau would exchange his riches for love. Since his girlfriend’s execution, Souvarine shuns love, which can only get in the way of his vision of destruction. Love is a liability, something beautiful that inevitably leads to suffering. Sex and love are not always connected, and when they are, the physical consummation of love often signals a tragic ending.

Scholars consider Zola as the founder of naturalism, a literary movement in which characters are at the mercy of, or influenced by, both heredity and the world around them. In the naturalist view, people are like animals in that they are subject to base drives and forces over which they have no control. Zola thus depicts the miners as animals who are caged—both literally, in Le Voreux, and figuratively, by ignorance and the system.

From the beginning of the novel, Étienne is careful not to drink alcohol. When he does, he does so with moderation, slowly nursing a single beer at the Advantage. He is desperate not to fall back into his “wild, drink-sodden inheritance” (47). Later, when he drinks gin on an empty stomach during the protests at the pit, Étienne is overwhelmed by “murderous fury as his drunkenness turned into an urge to kill” (340). Lying in his lair in Réquillart later, he is ashamed of this “uncharted region of terror within himself, this hereditary disease” (380), and he worries that one day he will kill someone. Ironically, after Jeanlin kills Jules the sentry, Étienne ponders why he himself was unable to kill Chaval and wonders whether it means he is a “coward” (421). When he later kills Chaval in the flooded roadway of Réquillart, Étienne thinks of “his long, futile battle against the poison that lay dormant in every sinew of his body” (510). Feeling drunk with hunger, he experiences “the sheer animal joy of a sated appetite” (510).

The novel offers many examples of instinct and environment leading characters. Catherine’s following Chaval despite his abuse of her is the result of the ingrained submission of women. The people’s ignorance and lack of political knowledge comes from generations of acquiescence and oppression. The mob’s animalistic behavior is akin to caged animals lashing out at their masters. After years of starvation and squalor, the people become desperate, driven by the most basic need of all: hunger.

Just as the people must constantly shore up the timbering in the pits, humans in Germinal are constantly fighting with their instincts. In both cases, nature threatens to take away gained ground. People are “insects on the march” (38), small and insignificant in the vastness of Le Voreux—which itself is at the mercy of the pressure of the earth. In Germinal, humans are powerless against the grander forces of nature.