Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 112 Dimensionality Reduction Strike
The next morning, the luxurious editor-in-chief's office at Le Figaro, with its deep red carpet, received a letter from Lionel.

Editor-in-Chief Armand de La Motte sat behind his large mahogany desk and used a pair of delicate scissors to cut open the seal.

He had been waiting for a letter from this young man for almost two months.

The editor of the "Literary Supplement" of Le Figaro wrote two sincere letters soliciting manuscripts, but instead of receiving a warm response, he saw that two of his new works had been published in La Moderne and Le Petit Parisien respectively.

This is a disgrace that Le Figaro has never experienced before.

Which French writer doesn't consider it an honor to have their work published in Le Figaro?
Lionel not only failed to cherish this opportunity, but instead pandered to the vulgar citizens of Le Petit Parish, which was extremely unwise.

A single criticism from Jules Claretti prompted this arrogant young man to offer his "precious" pen.

Armand could already imagine how Lionel would humbly apologize to him in the letter and hope that Le Figaro would be lenient.

Although Jules Claretti's main focus was music and drama, his sharp pen could often determine the fate of a concert or a play.

It would be a waste of his talents to have him punish a greenhorn like Lionel.

Armand casually pulled out the letter and began to read it.

He first saw the sentence, "I must thank you, because you unintentionally handed the most moving key to this novel to the readers," and smiled.

This young man is quite polite!

But soon, the thought that "the cries of the freak are more shocking to our conscience than the cries of the Holy Infant" changed his expression.

As Armand Lamothe read on, his expression grew increasingly grim, but after finishing the letter, he exclaimed, "Good!"

He then realized he had spoken out of turn; how could he have cheered for the "enemy"? — Fortunately, there was no one else there.

But he couldn't help picking up the letter and reading it again, then sighed, rang the bell on the table, and called his assistant: "Bring Mr. Jules Claretti to my office."

After his assistant left, Editor-in-Chief Lamote rubbed his throbbing temples, trying to remain calm.

Even though he disliked or even loathed Lionel, he had to admit that the letter was... beautifully written.

Not only because of its rigorous logic and progressive structure, but also because Lionel used a method of rebuttal that had never been seen before in French literary debates.

He cleverly elevated the concept by starting with his agreement with the term "freak show" used to attack him, transforming it into a profound exploration of the complexity of human nature and the absurdity of history.

It was like a duel where they agreed to stand back to back, take ten steps, turn around, and fire, but when Le Figaro turned around, they found Lionel standing behind them.

The letter is not only full of quotations and elegant writing, but also brimming with undeniable eloquence and compassion for the weak, extending Claretti's questioning of the novel itself to his contempt for the weak.

This wasn't even the most fatal flaw—the most fatal flaw was that Lionel displayed a tolerance akin to that of an adult tolerating a naughty child's crying, as if he were the elder compared to Claretti.

Especially the line "Freaks don't create ugliness, they just expose it," and the poetic yet subtly sharp ending, "Freaks are just a line of poetry that fate has written wrong; and love will correct it with its clumsy rhymes," are simply strokes of genius.

This depth of thought and command of language far surpasses the level expected of a young person in their early twenties, and is also far superior to Claretti's emotional and label-based commentary.

As he was pondering this, there was a knock on the office door, and Jules Claretti walked in. This sharp-tongued commentator was in his prime, his eyes filled with confidence and determination.

Editor-in-Chief Lamote handed him the letter: "Take a look, it was delivered by Lionel Sorel today."

Jules Claretti gave a disdainful smile, took the letter, found a sofa, sat down comfortably, lit a cigar, and then began to read the letter.

But his arrogance and composure soon vanished. He gripped the letter with both hands, placed his cigar on the ashtray, and stared wide-eyed.

After reading the letter, he roared at Editor-in-Chief Lamotte like a shot-on, enraged lion: "Arrogant! Shameless! How dare a greenhorn lecture me like this! Who does he think he is? Hugo? Balzac?"

Claretti's voice trembled slightly with anger, and he almost spat on the table: "This is blatant provocation! An insult to Le Figaro! A desecration of the orthodoxy of French literature!"

Lamot's voice carried a hint of weariness: "Calm down, Jules. You have to admit, this letter... is very well written."

Claretti stopped abruptly, incredulous: "Impressive? You call this 'impressive'? That's sophistry! That's just sensationalism! He uses flowery language and pretentious concepts to cover up the inferiority and pandering to the masses in his work!"

We cannot publish it! Absolutely not! To do so would be tantamount to admitting our previous criticisms were wrong, and giving this literary opportunist a stage to perform!

Editor-in-Chief Lamote fell into deep thought.

Claretti's concerns are not unfounded; Le Figaro's conservative stance and elitist attitude are its very foundation. To publish such a rebuttal letter, which thoroughly refutes, and even surpasses, the newspaper's deputy editor-in-chief in terms of intellectual depth, is tantamount to self-destruction.

This would severely damage the newspaper's authority and embarrass Claretti, a highly regarded commentator.

But should we really reject the article? This letter will soon be published in other newspapers, and the consequences will be just as dire.

Lionel Sorel clearly anticipated this, which is why he "politely" voted for them.

Editor-in-Chief Lamote's voice sounded somewhat helpless: "He's put us in a difficult position. If we publish it, we'll be embarrassed; if we don't, it will make us look cowardly and closed-minded."

Claretti remained agitated: "So what? We are Le Figaro, we have our own pride!"

Lamotte sighed: "Jules, times have changed. Look at the sales of Le Parisien—Lionel Sorel is their darling."

Behind him stood Georges Charpentier, Flaubert, Zola, and others…

Claretti's voice was already a little hoarse: "So we should apologize to him? Ha, should I write him an apology letter?"

Lamote remained silent for a long time before finally making a difficult decision. He picked up the original letter: "Jules, for the sake of the newspaper's reputation, and for your own...dignity, we will not publish this letter."

You need to prepare a new commentary immediately, offering a more forceful critique of the new serialization of "The Curious Cases of Benjamin Buton"! Identify its plot holes or moral ambiguities!
This time, we need to be more reasonable and have more evidence to avoid giving him any leverage against us again!

Jules Claretti nodded emphatically and hurriedly left the editor-in-chief's office.

　One more chapter, I'll try to finish it tonight.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)