Paris - about the 1860s. Gervaise, a young laundress, is deserted by her drunkard lover Lantier and left with two children. Henceforth suspicious of men, she is finally won over by Coupeau, a roofer, because he doesn't drink. She opens a laundry business with money from another admirer, and things are going well. However, after a serious accident, Coupeau changes for the worst, starts boozing, and drags her down with him to an terrible alcoholic end. It all sounds like a total tale of misery, but there's something about Zola's marvellous style, his control of detail and naturalistic conversation, and his refusal - unlike any other mainstream C19th writer I've read - to self-censor the grubby and sexual aspects of life, that made it extraordinarily gripping. It brought home a sense of its era - the sheer heroism of poor people's struggle to stay respectable and to survive when one slip could cast you into the gutter - more clearly than any other similar novel I've come across. There are some amazing set-piece scenes too: a vastly long (but fascinating and truly French) description of a big meal, a fight between two women in a laundry, a visit by a wedding-party to the Louvre - and we get taken into many fascinating places of work as well as many wine-shops and bars, including the sinister L'Assommoir of the title. Why did no-one tell me before how good Zola is? And apparently there's acres of his stuff about...