emile zola

Prolific writer, of whom I've only read a small fraction. I've heard his technique described as being dull naturalism, but I recall sitting out in a garden one hot summer's day reading the opening chapter of Nana, which delineates the backstage preparations at a seedy French theater (where the title character is introduced) as being almost hallucinogenic in its description and claustrophobic, gas-lit atmosphere. Maybe the warm day and the setting had something to do with the impression the book left on me, but, sordid as the subject matter can be, I'd still rank this as one of the most engrossing novels I've read.