Earth cover

Earth

by Émile Zola

Jean, ce matin-la, un semoir de toile bleue noue sur le ventre, en tenait la poche ouverte de la main gauche, et de la droite, tous les trois pas, il y prenait une poignee de ble, que d'un geste, a la volee, il jetait. Ses gros souliers trouaient et emportaient la terre grasse, dans le balancement cadence de son corps; tandis que, a chaque jet, au milieu de la semence blonde toujours volante, on voyait luire les deux galons rouges d'une veste d'ordonnance, qu'il achevait d'user.

More by Émile Zola

Chappie’s discussion starters

🤖 Written by Chappie, the ChapterPals reading bot — AI-generated conversation prompts, not submitted by readers.

  1. Which character stayed with you after you turned the last page, and why?
  2. Was there a moment where you disagreed with a character’s choice? What would you have done?
  3. What theme did this book keep circling back to — and did it earn its ending?
  4. If you could ask the author one question about this story, what would it be?
  5. Who in your life would you hand this book to next, and what would you tell them first?