Oh! The good days! our farm sang from every corner !

I kept on scratching my head after finishing this book. My forefinger and middle finger drumming on my skull and a new sort of disconcerting bewilderment in my eyes!

This drumming was at once followed by the faint clanking of a loosely stitched steel button on my cuff which was vibrating with the tapping of my fingers generating a piece of harmonious music reaching to my eardrums. I must have been looking like a long-grey-beard crazy boffin inside his laboratory underground after an unusual result coming out of his experiment.

The reason is not that I did not understand the story, it was plain and realistic, but rather after finishing it and rummaging all my physical bookshelves and digital archives I have, I found that I had not one bit of Zola under my already-read docket. What does that mean? That means this was my first work of Zola! I couldn’t believe this. I was under the wrong impression that I had read Zola earlier and I was trying hard to track down what was that. But I found none. So whatever may be the case, I must tell that here in this story I liked his writing style and the way he has fast-moved his story. I am going to do a lot of French bookish activities this year and I think I am going fair. I had read a few stories here and there in past years and have not marked them down; I will try to make things more structured.

A 70 years old rich farmer named Louis Roubein is the narrator of this story. He boasts about the blessing and happiness and affluence, he and his family have gained at the beginning of the story

“Our house seemed blessed, happiness reigned there.
Oh! The good days! Our farm sang from every corner.”

THE FLOOD

Then on one mayday, there was considerable talk about the heavy rains of the past few days from the neighborhood. But this family head was confident that as long as the river did not overflow its banks, they have nothing to worry about. They console each other that nothing will happen, it’s, all the same, every year. The river becomes furious in the day and calms down at night.

When they were talking, a cry was heard from outside and they see through the window that two men and a woman with a child in her arm are crying, emerging from the side of the poplars, running in long strides. Initially, they couldn’t understand the reason for their fear as there was not a leaf moving. While they were just thinking there appeared like a pack of wild beasts speckled with yellow, coming from all directions, the crowding waves and a mass of foaming water shaking the roots on the ground with thundering gallops of their flock.

And here was the turn of this family to send the despairing cry now.

“Quick! quick! We must get into the house. Take refuge upstairs.”

Now the rest of the story, as you can perceive is about a devastating flood in the place.

There was an exclamation with a shriek with the word “Garonne! Garonne!” when those two men and a woman were crying running there. I first thought it was the name of some person, but I came to know then that it’s the name of the river in France around which this story has been told. I learned that this river has been flooding and devouring lives since old age and the story mentioned is based on reality.

Zola has written it at a very nice pace and the most important thing I noticed is the description style of the author. He says the entire thing happening there in a very precise and unambiguous manner, thus the reader moves to the next sequence at full tilt, leaving nothing behind except the footmarks of the continuity in the plot. The story is very realistic and has not left scope for a happy ending. Characters play real most of the time and at times were portrayed a bit more adventurous very common in a usual work of fiction but their culmination was brutally realistic.

A good experience with the author and an edification too for me.

My French list is thriving this year with Zola included in it now.

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