I am a literary giant in Russia

Chapter 199 Language and the Rootless Teacher Hugo
Our most supreme, most excellent, most powerful, most magnanimous, and most invincible monarch, our dearest friend, may God bless you with even greater greatness and happiness.

Knowing that Your Majesty is eager to recruit talented individuals and hopes to have many learned scholars proficient in European science by your side and throughout the Empire.
August 7, 1688, at Marley Castle.

—A letter from Louis XIV to the Kangxi Emperor

It was around the time of Louis XIV that a wave of Sinophile swept across Europe. Voltaire was a fan of Emperor Qianlong, and when Qianlong's *Ode to Shengjing* was published in Paris, it immediately caused a sensation in the literary world. Voltaire was particularly excited after reading it, saying:
"I love Emperor Qianlong's poems; their gentleness and kindness are evident everywhere. Great King, your verses and thoughts are so beautiful."

Of course, to praise Qianlong's poems to such an extent only shows that Voltaire knew very little about poetry.
It's worth mentioning, however, that the cultural fervor among French Enlightenment thinkers was largely driven by their desire to use a distant and mysterious country as a springboard for political commentary. This is a familiar tactic in political maneuvering—a classic case of "look and see! How wonderful this ancient Eastern country is! Reflect! The French government and the French people should all reflect on this!"
But later, as some things changed, more French people naturally jumped out and said, "What? Reflection? Reflection my ass! We French don't need to reflect on this kind of thing, we French just win, win, win!"
As for things like "winning strategies," the only way to know is that you'd better actually win.
In this context, as early as 1814, France established the first professorship of "Chinese" in the West. In 1843, the National Institute of Oriental Languages ​​and Civilizations of France established the Department of Chinese, aiming to cultivate practical language talents.

In other words, there must have been people in Paris who understood Chinese during this period, but this language is notoriously difficult to learn, and it is even more difficult to truly understand its meaning. Now, a commoner from Russia claims that he is proficient in various European languages ​​as well as this ancient and difficult language.

Faced with such a statement, even Hugo, who was still immersed in his own thoughts, was stunned for a moment, and then looked at the young man who seemed to be telling the truth with his mouth slightly open.

Or rather, he was asking for trouble by lying. The language was indeed difficult, but there were people in Paris who understood it, not to mention other European languages. So everything he said was true.
Just as Hugo was wavering, one of the young men present seemed to hesitate for a while, but in the end he mustered up his courage and tentatively said a few words to Mikhail.

Mikhail quickly smiled and shook his head, saying, "Sir, your pronunciation has many problems. Let me briefly point out what they are."

It must be said that modern Chinese is quite different from the official language of 1845. However, as mentioned before, in addition to writers, diplomats often visited the home of Prince Odoevsky, including an old diplomat who had been stationed in the Qing Dynasty for decades.

As for him, he naturally spoke fluent, native Beijing dialect, and Mikhail, thinking that it was always good to have more skills, spent a few days learning from this old Russian diplomat.

The difference between modern Chinese and the Chinese of later generations is not small, but it is certainly not that great. Therefore, Mikhail only needs to adjust his accent slightly.

So, regarding his few days of study, what exactly was the old Russian diplomat's reaction? In short:
Day 1: "Young man, this is one of the most difficult languages ​​in the world to learn. I spent many years there before I reached my current level. If you're just thinking of giving it a try, then forget it! But if you're willing to spend five or even ten years learning it, I can really teach you."

Day 3: "??? What are you talking about? Huh? Please say a few more words!"

Day 10: "My God! My God! What have you brought to this world? Ten days! Just ten days! There is such a genius in the world?! God has appeared! Mr. Mikhail, you truly live up to your name, you are the true incarnation of God!"

Mikhail: “.”

It made me a little embarrassed.
Also, I'm sorry I lied to you. Actually, I knew how to do it on the first day, but I still stubbornly persevered until the tenth day.
In short, Mikhail now speaks fluent, authentic Beijing dialect, truly the most authentic of all.

Therefore, when he pointed out the French youth's pronunciation problem, the young man quickly looked ashamed and then couldn't help but say admiringly, "Sir, you are even more knowledgeable than the professor who taught me this language!"

After this young man said those words, the question of whether Mikhail was capable of answering it was, to some extent, confirmed.

And so, the deathly silence was finally broken. The young French people present couldn't help but murmur among themselves, and Hugo, who had been sitting solemnly in his seat, finally looked directly at the young people in front of him.

While the legendary geniuses may sound amazing, they always seem somewhat unreal and easily arouse doubt. But when they are actually presented before our eyes, we can truly appreciate just how much awe a genius can bring.

As for Artur, who initially mocked Mikhail's Russian identity and even subtly criticized Mikhail himself, his face was now ashen. Even disregarding Mikhail's subsequent actions, his earlier inference about slaves alone, if it appeared in the newspapers, would likely be enough to cause Artur a lot of trouble.

So you'll become famous, but what about other things?! Can you really hold onto them?!
Incidentally, the old Russian diplomat who taught Mikhail was so shocked that he eventually treated it as a mystical phenomenon, rarely talking about it to outsiders, and instead studying it intensively in some ancient texts.

To this, Mikhail could only say that he hopes he won't come to an overly absurd conclusion.
Because he refused to talk about it with anyone, Mikhail soon felt Turgenev's gaze upon him.

When Mikhail looked at him, Turgenev first held up two fingers, then asked in a detached tone, "Mikhail, are you going to tell me again that you know a little bit?"

"that is not."

Mikhail simply drew a circle: "I know quite a bit about this."

Turgenev: “?”

Have they changed their tactics?
That despicable Mikhail!
As the two spoke, the murmurs in the room gradually subsided, but a subtle awkwardness followed. After all, no one knew how to naturally continue the conversation after what had just happened. Finally, Hugo, having fully grasped the cause and effect of the matter, thought for a moment and ultimately decided to be the one to draw the final conclusion.

If at first he was surprised by such a genuine genius, when he came to his senses, Mikhail's earlier words resonated with him even more, so he spoke:
“Mr. Mikhail, you are right. Yes, how can we casually comment on the people in the slums and factories? How can we casually comment on those whose situation is perhaps even more miserable? As for those who willingly become slaves, as you mentioned, perhaps that is the root cause of why Paris is still the way it is today. I have seen many such things during my time as a member of parliament, and I am currently writing a novel about that.”

Although Hugo spoke with more emotion than anything else, Artur's face grew increasingly pale.

Without a doubt, Mr. Hugo had set the tone for the conversation just now, and clearly, he did not belong to the side of justice and morality.
While Mikhail was slightly surprised by Hugo's words, he wasn't entirely unexpected.

After all, while Victor Hugo may not have been a perfect saint, the noble emotions that flowed through his heart and in his works were not fake, but genuinely lingered in his soul.

After the incident subsided, Mikhail saw that the atmosphere had eased considerably and that Professor Hugo seemed to value him more. So, Mikhail pressed his advantage and said, "Actually, I'm currently trying to write poetry in French, but I don't know what level it would be at in France. Could you please give me some pointers?"

Ok?
Upon hearing this, Hugo was stunned again, and the other young French people present looked at each other in bewilderment. If you looked closely, you could even see a hint of collapse on their faces.

After all, some things are obvious: being able to speak French fluently and being able to write poetry in French are two completely different things. In fact, being able to write novels in French and being able to write poetry in French are quite different.

So why? Language, and language again!

Knowing a language and knowing how to use it are two different things, and knowing how to use it and applying it brilliantly are two completely different things.

Like many classic works that have been passed down to later generations, people often like to talk about how they reflect reality, eternal humanity, and brilliant creativity and stories.
But are most writers idiots? Don't they know what human nature is? Can't they write about reality? And with creativity and stories, the world is producing a ton of strange and wonderful things every day, so what exactly makes some works stand out and even achieve greatness?
A genius-level ability to use language!
This ability often possesses a Midas touch, allowing even mediocre stories to shine with new brilliance under the pen of such writers. Some writers can make even simple descriptions of eating enjoyable to read. Is it because they eat something special? Or something extraordinary? No, it's because they know how to use the right language to describe eating.

Of course, this is not to say that other things are unimportant, but rather that without such genius-level language skills, a writer cannot truly be great.

That's why, in this day and age, poets often consider themselves superior, and to some extent, that's true. So the question is, what if this young Russian man could actually write poetry in French? And what if he could write it well?
Although it was somewhat unlikely, the thought of it made the young French people present feel like the sky was falling.

But after a moment of surprise, Hugo, with his absolute confidence in this matter, quickly nodded and said, "No problem, Mr. Mikhail. Rather, I am really looking forward to your French poetry."

Seeing that Hugo had nodded in agreement, Mikhail stopped dawdling and quickly took out the manuscript he had brought with him.

However, it is worth mentioning that since he had just arrived in Paris and had a long time ahead of him, Mikhail did not intend to immediately produce a flawless French poem. Everyone should leave themselves some leeway.

Therefore, after thinking about it, Mikhail only chose a work that seems decent now but would be forgotten in later generations. Of course, it couldn't be too bad, after all, this poem was selected from Hugo's later poems. Although it was not very remarkable, it should have been easy to get Hugo's praise.

then:

"What is the end of all things? Is it life, or the graveyard?"
Is it a gentle ripple that lets you float freely, or a raging wave that urges you to silence?

Where lies the distant future amidst these countless chaotic footsteps?
"

As Mikhail gradually recited the poem, the hearts of the young French people, who already had a bad feeling, sank lower and lower with the poem, and some even felt despair.

Firstly, in terms of rhythm, this poem fits the current popular style in France and is basically without errors. Secondly, the ideas expressed in the poem are quite philosophical, full of reflections on life and destiny. Perhaps it is not particularly shocking, but it is undoubtedly a poem of a very high standard.

So, this Russian really can write poetry in French, and to this level?!
What about those of us who have been speaking French for twenty or thirty years?
In the end, a foreigner actually understands the rhythm, intonation, and usage of French better than we do?!
Just as some people were finding it increasingly unbelievable and even wanted to ask how this young Russian man had managed to do it, Mikhail finally finished reciting the poem. After finishing, Mikhail naturally looked at Professor Hugo, who seemed to have nodded slightly.

As for the others, their gazes gradually turned to Hugo.

Under such scrutiny, Professor Hugo hesitated for a moment, then quickly uttered two words: "So-so."

Mikhail: “???”

Dude, is this right?!
(End of this chapter)