Eugène Rougon himself, powerful as he may be, cannot afford to offend Gundermann. Saccard’s first great financial coup, after the defeat of Austria at the battle of Sadowa, is the result of political action. A change of fortunes in the Austro-Prussian War creates a sharp fall in share-prices, and Deputy Huret leaks information about a peace treaty, allowing Saccard to make a killing on the market. Rougon’s juggling between liberals and Catholics seems to parody Napoleon III’s efforts to pacify first one group then another, with dismal results. By dint of a mild anachronism, Zola brings in a reference to the formation of the Marxist-inspired First International (brought forward from its actual foundation in September 1864 to May in the novel), thus introducing the conflict of capitalism and socialism as represented by Saccard and Sigismond. In the view of William Gallois, Zola here undertakes ‘a morality tale which describes how imperialism developed in France’, and shows ‘how elements of the modern world fitted together, how capitalism was an imperial culture, and how that culture operated’.12 Gallois points to the way that Zola shows imperial ambition often expressed in terms of philanthropy and further cloaked by a mantle of religion, as is the case with the ambitions of Saccard’s Universal Bank.

Contrasts, Oppositions, Repetitions

The novel is structured by means of contrasts, contrasts both between and within the characters. Saccard, the ruthless brigand, also shows compassion and kindness; the rapacious Busch is also the tender and loving carer of his brother. Gundermann, the king of the Bourse, the rock of logic on which Saccard’s ship will founder, is also the frail, indulgent grandfather. Gundermann’s logic and patience are set against Saccard’s passion and impatience; and as a hoarder, accumulating wealth, Gundermann is opposed to Saccard, the spendthrift capitalist who spends for his personal pleasure but also for the furtherance of great and useful ventures. Because of his German origins Gundermann is also seen as Prussia, pitted against Saccard’s France. The capitalist Saccard, with his passion for money, is set in conflict with Sigismond, the socialist philosopher who wants to ban money altogether. And money itself partakes of the general ambiguity: filthy and evil on the one hand, and potentially good as the agent of progress on the other.

Some scenes recur with contrasting variations, that underline the volatility of things. Delcambre’s discovery of Baroness Sandorff with Saccard is doubled by Saccard’s discovery of Sandorff in the arms of Sabatani. The first view of the beautiful Mazaud family in their beautiful apartment is savagely transformed when Madame Caroline comes upon Mazaud’s body dripping blood on to the rich carpet while his wife utters unearthly screams of grief. Those screams will later be echoed in the screams of Busch, cradling the dead body of his brother. Madame Caroline remembers hearing such screams before, so that in quasi-Proustian fashion Madame Mazaud’s cries are intermingled with those of Busch. People and events in this novel are complex, ambiguous, resistant to stable definition.

Nothing seems really solid: decay, corruption, and death are all around. The worm is indeed in the fruit, as suggested in the first chapter—the worm of greed, excess, and deceit. Zola shows the old landed aristocracy, in the persons of the impoverished Countess de Beauvilliers and her daughter, cruelly brought low and humiliated, while the ‘aristocratic’ Marquis de Bohain, with no probity and no substance, continues to thrive, with his little head atop his very large frame. Speculation is rife, as greed takes over one person after another. Not only Baroness Sandorff, but also the Maugendres, Dejoie, even little Flory, all fall prey to the gambling bug. Even the Hamelins are tainted, having accepted some of the profits of Saccard’s speculation.

The social inequalities of the regime are vigorously highlighted in Madame Caroline’s visit to the Cité de Naples. The dark and hideous makeshift hovels, the mud and the stinking open sewers, create a scene like something out of a horror movie. It reaches its climax when, through Madame Caroline’s eyes, we see the filthy mattress on the ground where ‘Mother’ Eulalie lies, with her ulcerated legs, then Victor, with his stupefying resemblance to Saccard, suddenly revealed by the light from the open door. To underline the gap between destitution and luxury, Madame Caroline goes straight from the Cité de Naples to the sweet-scented apartment of Maxime. Such contrasts and oppositions question the very bases of this society. The contrast between the lives of Saccard’s two sons could hardly be more stark, and Madame Caroline again reflects on the role of money: was it penury that gave rise to such degradation on one side, and was it money that led to such luxury and elegance on the other? ‘Could money then mean education, health, and intelligence?’ (p. 350), she wonders. But Maxime, in his idleness and self-centred, callous indifference to others, seems as corrupted by wealth as his half-brother by destitution.

Capitalism and Socialism

In the diametrically opposed views of Saccard and Sigismond we see the confrontation of capitalism and socialism, highlighted by Sigismond’s three appearances, in the first chapter, the ninth, and the last. Sigismond is not really much of a Marxist—Zola had not studied Marx, but based Sigismond’s ideas on what he had read of socialism,13 and Sigismond’s theories are presented as visions and dreams, rather than solid constructions.