In this segment of The Ladies' Paradise, the author uses tactile imagery to describe the variety of fabrics Madame Desforges examines, emphasizing Liénard’s frustration with her drawn-out shopping and introducing satire into the exchange:
[...] the counter had disappeared beneath the silky grain of the cashmeres and poplins, the rough nap of the Cheviots, and the fluffy down of the Vicuñas. Every material and every shade was now on view. She asked to be shown Grenadine and Chambéry gauze, though she did not have the slightest desire to buy any. Then, when she had had enough, she said:
‘Oh well! The first one was the best. It’s for my cook … Yes, the serge with the little dots, the one at two francs.’
The tactile imagery of "the silky grain of the cashmeres and poplins, the rough nap of the Cheviots, and the fluffy down of the Vicuñas" vividly evokes the reader’s sense of touch, inviting them to “feel” the different textures of these fabrics as Lienárd and Madame Desforges do. This variety of textures—silky, rough, fluffy—paints a picture of serious abundance. There’s so much fabric that the counter actually “disappears” underneath it. Most of this is not cheap stuff: for example, “Vicuña” fabric is some of the most expensive in the world, made from the hair of a South American llama. The detailed description of each type of wool, from the grain of the cashmere to the down of the Vicuñas, emphasizes the store’s fabulous panoply of luxurious goods. The fact that there are so many luxurious materials is part of the novel's narrative of indulgent consumerism. Buying a small piece of any of these fabrics would be impossible for most people living in Paris, but at The Ladies' Paradise, there are mounds and mountains of it.
This is part of the novel's satirical take on the bombastic, excessive nature of 19th-century European consumerism. There is simply so much of everything that it becomes overwhelming, and loses its value. Rather than buying any of the expensive things she insists on handling, Madame Desforges actually just picks up what she came to buy: some cheap material for a servant's outfit. Zola raises the reader's expectations of her making a fabulous purchase, and then has her do something quite ordinary instead.
In this excerpt from The Ladies' Paradise, Zola uses visual imagery and satire, particularly through the repetition of the word "gold," to depict the ridiculous opulence of the new building:
Down below, so as not to outshine the merchandise, the decoration was sober, with large sections in one colour, in a neutral tint; then, as the metal framework ascended, the capitals of the columns became richer, the rivets formed rosettes, the corbels and brackets were loaded with sculpture; finally, at the top, there was a brilliant burst of green and red paint, in the midst of a wealth of gold, cascades of gold, a whole crop of gold, right up to the windows, the panes of which were enamelled and inlaid in gold. Under the covered galleries, the exposed brickwork of the counter-arches was also enamelled in bright colours.
The visual imagery in the description is highly detailed and distinct. Zola leads the viewer through the entryway and main hall, starting from the floor and ending at the ceiling. The lower levels, where the actual selling occurs, are "sober," designed not to distract from the merchandise. This changes dramatically as the reader’s “gaze” is brought higher. The décor becomes progressively more ornate, culminating in an excessive display of golden explosions at the top of the walls. This shift from practicality to luxury visually represents the core activity of the store. The act of purchase is simple and happens between people, but it contributes to the grandeur and wealth symbolized by the lavish upper decorations, far out of reach. The imagery of "rivers of gold," "cascades of gold," and a "crop of gold" paints a picture of overwhelming luxury, where the practical purpose of the building is lost in its welter of opulence.
The repetition of the word "gold" is central to Zola's satirical commentary here. Everything in the passage is excessive because this age of consumerism was characterized by excess. This overuse of “gold” highlights the gaudy and unnecessary nature of the decoration. Zola suggests that in trying to make the store seem luxurious, the decorators have lost all sense of taste and restraint. The gold is not just an embellishment; it becomes an obstacle that has to be separated from the merchandise so as not to outshine it.
Zola's satire in this passage—and throughout the novel—essentially serves two purposes. It critiques the excessive opulence of the period’s department stores, especially in a time when many in Paris were experiencing terrible poverty. Simultaneously, it reflects on the broader societal changes that the age of industrialization brought about. As people gained enormous fortunes quickly, many of them wanted to demonstrate their success and display their wealth competitively. In a way, this description of the interior of the building is a smaller version of the novel’s commentary on the complexity of balancing rapid modernization with older systems of commerce and trade. It also warns of the dangers of substituting wealth for taste.