... is something which we all aspire to, as shown in the recent election in America. I have been reading "Germinal" by Emile Zola, and the following paragraphs strike a chord. We all want justice, but can it really be achieved on earth? Can Mr Obama really carry the hope of so many people on his shoulders, without disappointing some? Can we forsake the world that is to come?
~
"What a crazy idea!" said the young man. "Do you need a damn God and his paradise to make you happy? Can't you make your own happiness on earth all by yourself?"
He talked on endlessly, in increasingly passionate tones. And suddenly, the bolts locking the horizon burst open to let a gleam of light break through and illuminate the grim lives of these poor people. The endless chain of poverty, the brutish labour, the bestial life they led, first shorn of their fleeces and then led to the slaughter, all this suffering disappeared, as if a great blaze of sunshine had swept it away; and in a dazzling, magical vision, justice descended from heaven. Since God himself was dead, it would be justice which would now ensure the happiness of men, by opening up a kingdom of equality and fraternity. Just like in fairy-tales, a new society would grow up overnight, a great city, shimmering like a mirage, where each citizen would fulfill his appointed duties and take his part in the community of joy. The rotten old world would crumble to dust, a new young breed of humanity purged of its crimes would form a single, united race of workers , who would have for their motto; to each according to his worth, and each one's worth to be judged according to his efforts. And the dream grew continually vaster and finer, all the more seductive for riding higher and higher into the realms of impossible fantasy.
At first La Mahreude refused to listen, for she was seized with a vague feeling of panic. No, really, it was too fantastic, you shouldn't get carried away by such ideas, for they made life even more revolting afterwards, and then you would kill anyone who got in your way, just to be happy. When she noticed the anxious gleam in Maheu's eyes, she grew worried, seeing him so carried away, and cried out, interrupting Etienne:
"Don't you listen, my dear? Can't you see he's telling us fairy-tales? ... D'you think the bourgeoisie will ever agree to work as hard as we do?"
But little by little the charm started to work on her too. She finally started to smile as her imagination was aroused, tempting her to enter this marvellous world of hope. It was so sweet to forget the pain of reality, if only for an hour! When you live like an animal, with your nose to the grindstone, you need at least a little pocket of lies, so that you can enjoy gloating over things you can never possess. And what really excited her, what made her agree with the young man, was the idea of justice.
"You're right there!" she cried. "For me, once something's just, I will go to hell for it ... And it's true, it would be only justice for us to have fun for a change."
Then Maheu felt able to let himself go.
"In the name of all that's holy! I'm not a rich man, but I'd certainly give a hundred sous not to die before I've seen all that ... What's an upset, eh? Will it happen soon, and how are we going to do it?"
Etienne started talking again. The old society was falling apart, for, he affirmed outright, it couldn't last more than a few months longer. As for the means of putting it into practice, he seemed to be less sure of himself, confusing his sources and, given the ignorance o his audience, feeling no scruples at launching into explanations where he himself was out of his depth. All the systems he knew of went into his maw, smoothed over by his certainty of an easy triumph, of a universal embrace which would put an end to the misunderstandings between the classes; apart from the ill will of one or two individual bosses or bourgeois who might perhaps have to be made to see reason. And the Maheus appeared to understand and approve, accepting this miraculous solutions with the blind faith of converts, like the early Christians at the beginning of the Church who awaited the emergence of a perfect society out of the very compost of the ancient world. Little Alzire hung on every world, imagining happiness as a vision of a very warm house where the children would play all the time and eat as much as they wanted to. Catherine sat transfixed, still holding her chin in her hands. staring at Etienne, and where he fell silent, she shivered slightly, as if she suddenly felt cold.
But La Maheude looked at the cuckoo clock.
"Past nine o'clock, what are we thinking of! We'll never get up in the morning."
And the Maheus left the table, feeling sick at the hart, and near to despair. They had suddenly felt as if they were going to be rich, and now they fell back with a crash into the mire. Old Bonnemort, who was leaving for the pit, complained that that sort of story didn't make the soup taste any better; while the others went upstairs one by one, suddenly noticing the damp on the walls and the foul, fetid air. Upstairs, once Catherine, who was last into bed, had blown out the candle, Etienne heard her tossing and turning feverishly in the midst of the silent and slumbering village before she was able to sleep.
~ by Emile Zola, translated by Peter Collier
