"Ladies' happiness": check time

I grew in the military camp in Transbaikalia in which children could watch the movie only once in a week – on Sunday, at ten o'clock.
Naturally, children played sports, visited school clubs and read books. Books I read great variety: at first – in two libraries of our town, then – already in the city where my family moved.

By the sea our family lived two years on the rental apartment in the city, in one of rooms of which there were things of owners. There were two cases with scarce books among which - complete works of Guy de Maupassant, Emil Zola, Honoré de Balzac, etc.

I was 14 years old, and I very much was interested in questions of intimate relations between the man and the woman. While parents were at work, I methodically studied works by the French writers who are not recommended for reading to girls of my age. And here then to me the novel by Emil Zola "Ladies' happiness" - absolutely chaste in terms of the relation of floors sank into the soul! I just got used to an image of the main character.

Externally we with it resembled not: she was thin, sickly, fair-haired, and I – strong, swarty, a sports constitution.

But the life situation at us with it resembled very much.

Deniz, the heroine of the novel, arrived from the province to Paris with brothers to the uncle after the death of parents. She was delighted with the beautiful city and with big, multystoried shop with its sparkling show-windows which was near a bench of her uncle. This shop all called "Ladies' happiness": there fabrics, lace, tapes, jewelry – everything that is necessary for creation of a magnificent image were on sale.

She got a job in this shop, and, despite great job, tested sneers and mockeries from other employees because of appearance.

Something similar occurred also in my life: in the seaport of the girl in 14 years were dressed in all import because at many fathers were seamen and went "to a zagranka". On me there was a brown form and a black apron: so nobody any more in school put on! I studied perfectly, but was exposed to jeers and from girls, and – from boys.

Over time parents bought everything to me that it is necessary, I became the fashionable and attractive girl, but at first in the city to me was not sweet!

Deniz passed all tests too and turned from an ugly duckling into the charming girl. She drew attention of the managing director of the Mouret's Octave shop: the clever man with effective appearance.

He began to try to obtain reciprocity, but it is vain! At the end of the novel he could reach the day revenue of shop in one million francs – such it had a purpose. And in the room with bags of money there was the last explanation Mouret's Octave to Deniza: he was in despair, did not know how to live, even one million francs did not please him because of unfortunate love! And here Deniz admitted that loves it, but it does not want that all thought as if it needs his money therefore she came to say goodbye before departure to the province.

The novel ended on a positive note: Mouret suggested it to leave, and he to it will arrive to the province later, and they will return already the husband and the wife!

The champion of the USSR in swimming among juniors, pride of school and a class fell in love with me too. Our torrid love affair ended a little bit in a different way: I went to the province and in it and remained forever!

The other day I refreshed in memory of an event of the novel of E. Zola "Ladies' happiness". The author colourfully described the goods of shop and all its features which provided him popularity. I paid attention that in shop there were a cafe and the reading room in which men read newspapers, waiting for the wives from shopping. Now we have such shops also, only reading rooms lost the relevance therefore, most likely, instead of them there will be rooms with TVs.

But the main thing, I understood that the name of the novel of Emil Zola is devoted not to shop, but Deniza's relations and Mouret's Octave! "Ladies' happiness"! Of course, only love – the real women's happiness!