Germinal

The owners of the Company have, until this point, been a mystery. Now readers glimpse into the shareholders lives in the form of the Grégoires, whose existence is characterized by comfort that is extreme, even to the point of absurdity. The Grégoires’ comfort is presented in careful contrast to the struggles of the Maheus. Whereas Catherine, at four-o’clock in the morning, must make “a supreme effort to force herself awake” (16) for another day in the mine, M. Grégoire and his wife go to great lengths to ensure that Cécile, who might have been disturbed by the previous night’s wind, is allowed to sleep as late as she pleases. The Maheus “cheat their hunger with boiled cabbage leaves” (21). In contrast, Cécile enjoys freshly baked brioche, gleefully exclaiming, “Oh, it’s going to taste so good, all lovely and warm in the chocolate!” (81). While the emaciated Maheu children are stunted in growth, Cécile, with her “plump cheeks” and “ample bosom,” looks “too wholesome” (77). However, in the eyes of her parents, she is “never adequately fed” (77). While Alzire has to “wait for another day” for school because she is helping her mother care for the baby, Cécile’s education consists of private tutors who produce “a state of happy ignorance punctuated by childish whim, with books thrown out of the window the moment she found any subject boring” (81). Armchairs in the Grégoires’ dining room ensure “long hours of tranquil digestion” (76) after meals. Even M. Grégoire’s conservatism regarding his investment indicates aversion to anything resembling work.

The Grégoires’ detachment from the lives of the miners makes them incapable of understanding their plight, resulting in their judging La Maheude and her family for their dire conditions. M. Grégoire is “indignant” upon hearing that the Maheus have seven children, and Mme. Grégoire tells La Maheude it is “unwise” (94). The Grégoires never give money to the poor, for “the moment you gave the poor so much as two sous, they drank them” (93). M. Grégoire suggests to La Maheude that rather than “drink and run up debts,” her family can improve their lot by merely “putting a few sous to one side the way countryfolk do” (95)—not considering that La Maheude does not even have enough money to buy food. Safe in their warm, cozy dining room, the Grégoires look down upon those who are unable to achieve this comfort themselves, assuring La Maheude that with a positive outlook, “one can rise above misfortunes” (97).

In the Grégoires, Zola paints a picture of the rich’s exploitation of the poor. The Grégoires are oblivious to—and critical of—the struggles of the poor who sacrifice themselves daily to support their leisurely lifestyle. While to the workers, the mine is a monster who steals their health, their happiness, and their lives, the Grégoires see the mine as “a private god”—“a fairy godmother who rocked them to sleep in their large bed of idleness and fattened them at their groaning table” (80). Their idleness contrasts with the industriousness of La Maheude, who walks miles in the mud with her two young children and humbles herself to beg for money; when she fails to receive it, she convinces Maigrat to extend her credit. M. Grégoire, having inherited his stock in the mine, is blissfully oblivious to the fact that the suffering La Maheude endures to ensure his comfort, she endures at the expense of her own. Instead, the “ugliness of the starving” (95) offends him, and he finds her “display of poverty increasingly tiresome and upsetting” (96). Their pride when Cécile gives Lénore and Henri two slices of brioche to share among their siblings—the bare minimum of charity, and of little sacrifice to herself—reinforces their self-congratulatory complacency.