Each time they met and exchanged a snort, they both seemed to be uttering a lament, the older horse because he could no longer remember, the younger horse because he could not yet forget.  In the stables they shared a manger and spent their time together hanging their heads and blowing into each other’s nostrils, sharing their constant dream of daylight, their visions of green grass and white roads and yellow brightness stretching into infinity.  Then, as Trumpet lay dying in the straw, bathed in sweat, Battle began to nuzzle him with despair, with short snuffles that sounded like sobs.  He could feel him getting cold: the mine was taking away his one last joy in life, this friend who had come down from above all full of lovely smells that recalled the days of his own youth up in the fresh air.  And when he had seen that other horse was no longer moving, he had broken his tether and whinnied with fear.

Germinal / Emile Zola; Translated with an introduction and notes by Roger Pearson.  New York : Penguin Books, 2004. (First published 1885). p. 426.

Stories like Germinal are important.  They are about people, specific people, and about humanity at large.  It is a story about the downtrodden, about capitalist exploitation of the worker, about the Other, and so many other things of importance.  It has and will make a difference in my life for having read it.  But it is so sad.  Zola nails the excesses of the capitalist system; excesses that are inherent in the system.  If you think we have progressed in the last 120 years then go back and reread it with open eyes this time.  Try substituting miners for Wal-Mart employees for instance.  Yes, the system has changed.  It has only become more efficient at devouring the people.

Battle was one of my favorite characters in this book.  All of the really good ones, especially the few innocents, die.  Battle’s time is not far off after this scene.  It is a completely heart-rending passage. 

I have no idea if Zola meant the plight of Battle and Trumpet, especially as detailed in the above scene, as a comment on depression, but if you have ever been chronically depressed then I imagine that you will see what I am talking about.  If you haven’t then you probably think I am an idiot for confusing the death scene of a fictional horse with depression; but then you wouldn’t know (Hint: Collapse Battle and Trumpet into one.) .

There are no easy answers in Germinal.  In fact there are no answers.  There is only commentary on a bad situation or, I should say, multiple bad situations.  It only ends with the hope that things will someday change for the better.  It does not tell us when or how.  It is great literature.