I was 9 years old when I first read Nana. I was on holiday and had run out of books, so picked up the novel my Dad had just done with and tucked in. On first read I fell in love with the childish, impulsive, somewhat cruel, Nana and the heady perfume of her theatrical world. My first encounter with her was as she walked out onto the stage almost naked for her theatre debut at the tender age of 15. The hush of the crowd followed me through the book as Nana fucked, fought, and froliced with almost every male who run across her path. While she can hardly be considered to be a heroine in the heroic sense, and Zola is often at pains to point out how ignorant or immature she is, the sheer determination to make someone of herself is leaves its mark on even the hardest heart.
At the age of 9 I could hardly understand the not so subtle sexual tone of the book, but I loved Nana for bucking the system in every way she could, and having a bed surrounded by blue drapes and carved cherubs. Now, having read the book countless more times I love her pig headedness, her sharp tongue, and her girlish gaudiness. Had she been moved from the 1800s to now, I’d like to think her look would be perfect for any hopeful cocotte.
While Nana is a courtesan and proud of it she is always anxious to distance herself from the street walking friends she once had in looks as well as attitude. So while her taste runs to gaudy, (and what can be gaudier than D&G?) she is also effortlessly chic in that sickeningly Parisian way that I can only dream of. The main effect of a Nana-esque look should be a polished exterior concealing the minx within. Or rather as Henry James said: “instead of saying of Nana that it contains a great deal of filth, we should simply say of it that it contains a great deal of nature.” and you can’t go wrong when you act natural…
Further reading:
Wikipedia
Amazon
One Comment
love love.