Hearth Interactive

Opening day of the great sale

Draft: this translation has not yet been checked against the original by a separate review.

Written
published 1883 (written 1882; the story is set in October 1864)
Place
Paris
Language
French
Kind of source
literature
Reading time
5 minutes
Difficulty
Moderate
Intensity
Low

Stores, catalogues and shoppingTrade and markets

Versions

The edited translation, in simplified modern English. Bracketed words were added for clarity; [...] marks a cut. Tap a note number to read the note.

That Monday, October 10, a bright sun broke through the gray clouds like a victory. For a week the clouds had darkened Paris. It had drizzled all night, a fine dust of water whose damp left the streets dirty. But at dawn brisk winds carried the clouds away and the sidewalks dried. The blue sky had the clear cheerfulness of spring.

So from eight o'clock the Bonheur des Dames1 was blazing in the sunshine, in all the glory of its great sale of new winter goods. Flags flew at the door. Lengths of woolen cloth flapped in the cool morning air and filled the Place Gaillon2 with the noise of a fair. Along the two streets, the windows unfolded symphonies of displays, and the clean plate glass made their bright colors brighter still. It was an orgy of color, a joy that burst out into the street. A whole corner of the city was thrown open for buying, and anyone could come and feast their eyes.

But at that hour few people came in: a few busy customers, housewives from the neighborhood, and women who wanted to avoid the afternoon crush. Behind the cloth that decked it like flags, you could feel that the store was empty. It stood under arms, waiting for customers, with its waxed wooden floors and its counters overflowing with goods. The morning crowd hurried past and barely glanced at the windows. On the Rue Neuve-Saint-Augustin and the Place Gaillon, where the carriages were to line up, there were still only two cabs at nine o'clock. Only the people of the neighborhood gathered in groups, in doorways and on street corners, with their noses in the air. Most were small shopkeepers, stirred up by such a show of banners and plumes, and they were full of bitter remarks. What made them angry was one of the four delivery wagons that Mouret3 had just sent out into Paris.4 It stood on the Rue de la Michodière, in front of the shipping office. The wagons were green, trimmed with yellow and red, and their glossy varnished panels flashed gold and purple in the sun. This one was brightly painted and brand new. The name of the store was emblazoned on each side like a coat of arms, and on top was a sign announcing the day's sale. When the last parcels from the day before had been loaded, it drove off behind a splendid trotting horse. Baudu stood in the doorway of the Vieil Elbeuf,5 growing pale. He watched it all the way to the boulevard, as it carried that hated name, the Bonheur des Dames, through the city, shining like a star.

Meanwhile, a few cabs arrived and joined the line. Each time a customer appeared, the store's porters stirred. They stood in a row under the tall doorway, in livery: a light green coat and trousers and a vest striped yellow and red. Inspector Jouve, the retired army captain, was there too, in a frock coat and white tie, wearing his medal.6 He looked like a shop sign for old-fashioned honesty. He welcomed the ladies with grave politeness and bent toward them to point out the departments. Then they disappeared into the entrance hall, which had been turned into an Oriental salon.

So from the doorway on, there was a wonder, a surprise that delighted every one of them. It was Mouret's idea. He was the first to do it. He had just bought a collection of old and new carpets in the Levant,7 on excellent terms. They were the kind of rare carpets that until then only dealers in curiosities had sold, at very high prices. Now he was going to flood the market with them. He was selling them for almost what he had paid, and using them simply for a splendid display that would draw wealthy art lovers to his store. From the middle of the Place Gaillon you could see this Oriental salon. It was made only of carpets and door curtains, which porters had hung under his orders. First, carpets from Smyrna were stretched across the ceiling, their complicated patterns standing out on red backgrounds.8 Then door curtains hung on all four sides. There were curtains from Karamania and Syria, striped with green, yellow, and vermilion, and plainer ones from Diarbékir, rough to the touch like shepherds' cloaks. There were carpets that could serve as wall hangings too: long carpets from Hispahan, Tehran, and Kermancha, and wider ones from Schoumaka and Madras. They were a strange blossoming of peonies and palms, a fantasy let loose in a garden of dreams. On the floor the carpets began again, a litter of thick fleeces. In the center lay a carpet from Agra, an extraordinary piece with a white ground and a wide border of soft blue, where purplish ornaments ran in exquisite designs. Everywhere else, marvels were spread out: carpets from Mecca with a velvety sheen, prayer rugs from Daghestan with their symbolic point,9 and carpets from Kurdistan scattered with flowers in full bloom. Last, in one corner, lay a cheap tumble of carpets from Gheurdès, Coula, and Kircheher, piled up, from fifteen francs. This tent for a rich pasha10 was furnished with armchairs and divans made from camel bags. Some had brightly colored diamonds; others were sprinkled with simple roses. Turkey, Arabia, Persia, and the Indies were all there. Palaces had been emptied, mosques and bazaars plundered. Tawny gold was the main color in the faded old carpets. Their worn tints kept a dark warmth, like a furnace gone out, the fine baked color of an old master's painting. And visions of the Orient floated in the luxury of this barbaric art, amid the strong smell the old wool still kept of the land of vermin and sun.

Notes

  1. The store is Zola's invention. Its name means “The Ladies' Delight.” back
  2. A small triangular square in central Paris. Zola puts the store's only door on it, at the corner of the Rue Neuve-Saint-Augustin and the Rue de la Michodière. back
  3. Octave Mouret, the store's owner and director, who appears in several of Zola's novels. He had inherited the business from his wife. back
  4. Home delivery was one of the new practices of the big Paris stores. The wagons also carried the store's name around the city. back
  5. Baudu, uncle of the novel's heroine, Denise, runs the Vieil Elbeuf (“Old Elbeuf”), an old cloth and flannel shop across the street. Elbeuf, in Normandy, was known for woolen cloth. back
  6. Jouve is one of the store's inspectors, who watch over staff and customers. Zola says earlier that he had been decorated at Constantine, in Algeria. back
  7. The lands of the eastern Mediterranean, then mostly ruled by the Ottoman Empire. back
  8. Zola's list, in his spelling. Modern names include Smyrna (İzmir), Karamania (south-central Turkey), Diarbékir (Diyarbakır), Hispahan (Isfahan), Kermancha (Kermanshah), Schoumaka (Shamakhi, Azerbaijan), Madras (Chennai), Gheurdès (Gördes), Coula (Kula), and Kircheher (Kırşehir). back
  9. A prayer rug's design has a pointed arch, which the person praying turns toward Mecca. back
  10. A high Ottoman title, given to governors and generals. back