Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 114 The Masochistic Curve of Le Parisien
European literature is not lacking in "coming-of-age novels." Since Goethe's "Wilhelm Meister," these writers have been accustomed to depicting the conventional process of growing up from childhood to youth and then to adulthood.

The themes usually depict the confusion of youth, the impulse of love, the compromises of growing up, and so on.

Benjamin Buton, however, was quite different. He went against the flow of time, growing younger while others grew older.

The former is an inevitable experience for everyone, while the latter is a completely new experience—even the most oblivious reader can sense the predicament that this "growing backwards" infant will face.

Because the social systems and ethical order of the world are designed for children who grow up "positively," but are not prepared to welcome them.

Enrollment, employment, retirement, marriage... Benjamin Buton was destined to be in a state of "non-acceptance" for most of his life.

Furthermore, regardless of who he associates with, he finds it difficult to maintain long-term companionship with people of the same age—when he truly connects with someone of a certain age, their appearance or mindset quickly "disconnects."

This destined him to be more likely to "lose" than anyone else.

Tragedy seemed to be the destined main theme of his life.

The perceptive French quickly empathized with this peculiar child, especially after Lionel published his rebuttal, and sympathy for "Benjamin Boudon" soon became the prevailing sentiment among readers.

"Hey, how long do you think Benjamin will live? He was born looking eighty, at ten he looked seventy, at twenty he looked sixty? So when he's eighty, won't he... become a baby?"

"God, this is a real headache! Just think about it, he's getting younger and younger! But he's experiencing more and more things! By the time he looks like a young man, his mind is filled with decades of experience! What must that be like?"

……

Such discussions filled pubs and cafes, with everyone talking about "Benjamin Budon," not only concerned about his fate but also seeing some of their own reflections in him.

The narratives, especially those concerning the two revolutions 90 years apart, resonated deeply with Parisians who had experienced profound societal changes.

For disabled veterans, seeing "Benjamin Buton" is like seeing themselves—having lost their physical abilities in the war, and now, at an advanced age, having to learn how to walk, use a knife and fork, and go to the toilet...

Factory workers saw themselves in "Benjamin Buton"—entering the spinning mill at thirteen, hunching over like a sixty-year-old by twenty, his beard turned completely white but he still couldn't save up for retirement, and he still had to drag his skin and bones to the docks to carry bags.

For them, "reverse aging" means their bodies age first, but life forces them back to where they started as child laborers—learning to do the lowest-level menial tasks again and receiving the lowest wages.

The middle class, small business owners, the rich, the aristocracy... all seem to find a bit of resonance in "Benjamin Bouton".

This peculiar "growing backwards" setting forces readers to think, imagine, and connect, ultimately seeing themselves reflected in "Benjamin Budon".

Even Madame de Rothschild, one of Paris's most prestigious socialites, was deeply moved.

In her mansion in the Saint-Germain district, Viscountess de Noai gently touched the corner of her eye with a handkerchief: "Oh, poor Benjamin Bouton is destined to lose everything, isn't he?"
When he finally looked like a young man, his mind had already been weathered by life's storms, and those he loved and understood had either grown old or left, just like Daphne...

This is simply the cruelest joke fate has ever played!

The other ladies nodded in agreement, discussing the various "losses" Benjamin would face in the future and his inevitable tragic fate, eagerly showering their excessive and cheap sympathy upon him.

After they quieted down, Mrs. Rothschild spoke with restraint: "This is the tragedy of our society—defining, demanding, accepting, or rejecting people solely based on their appearance."

We demand composure and wisdom from the elderly, vitality and impulsiveness from the youth, and liveliness and innocence from the children. But who truly listens to and sees the truly vibrant soul within each person's body?

Her words stirred a ripple in the hearts of the ladies, who all turned their attention to this young, wealthy, noble, and charming friend. The Duchess of Polignac, slightly older than her, asked with a mixture of doubt and envy, "Eleonore, why have you been so wise and insightful lately?"

Mrs. Rothschild's modesty was tinged with hidden pride: "Perhaps it's because I've read it several times... This Lionel is truly a remarkable young man!"

Duchess Polignac's eyes lit up: "You think so too? Oh, have you read his 'Freak to Freak'? That line, 'A freak is nothing more than a line of poetry miswritten by fate…'"

Oh my god, my heart melted when I saw it...

Although the praise was directed at Lionel, Mrs. Rothschild felt herself melting.

The ladies' interest clearly shifted to the young man, and they began to discuss the various anecdotes and rumors surrounding him, their laughter filling the air.

Mrs. Rothschild did not participate, but simply stirred her Ceylon tea slowly with a silver spoon, watching them with a smile.

But Lionel's impact on readers goes far beyond that.

The next two installments of Le Petit Parisien also presented Benjamin Boudon's "romantic storyline" to the readers—he finally met Daphne.

At this time, however, he was still old, while Daphne was a lively ten-year-old girl.

She took the precious piece of rye candy, but instead of eating it immediately, she carefully broke it in half and handed it back to Benjamin: "Let's eat it together! What...what's your name?"

“Ben… Benjamin,” he uttered with difficulty.

“Benjamin?” Daphne tilted her head, looking him over. “You look…like Uncle Jean’s brother! But…”

She suddenly leaned closer, her large amber eyes blinking as if she had discovered a treasure: "Your eyes... are like a newborn kitten! Wet and sparkling!"

She reached out, her fingertips tentatively touching the soft, light brown tips of a new tuft of hair on Benjamin's forehead. "Here... is soft too, like a little lamb!"

Benjamin froze. After years of being misunderstood and discriminated against, for the first time someone pierced through his aged and terrifying exterior and touched the soul and vitality that was struggling to regain its youth.

He looked into Daphne's innocent curiosity, free of any impurities, and felt the faint yet burning warmth emanating from her fingertips—a warmth he had never experienced before that broke down the dam of loneliness he had once built in his heart.

“Da...Fanny,” he struggled to remember the warm name, his lips moving upwards very slowly and awkwardly, finally forming a clumsy yet undeniably genuine curve, “Friend?”

Daphne nodded vigorously, like a cheerful little bird, stuffed half a candy into her mouth, and mumbled but incredibly loudly replied, "Yes! Friend!"

If there's anything that could stir the hearts of the French more than the peculiar concept of "growing backwards," it would undoubtedly be love.

Readers have speculated countless times about when "Benjamin" and "Daphne" would meet, but they never expected it would be each other's "childhood".

They also realized that such an early encounter meant that the journey ahead would inevitably be bumpy and unpredictable—thinking of this, people's hearts broke!
The sales of Le Petit Parisien also surged as the serialization progressed, but the data curve fluctuated wildly, exhibiting a significant "M"-shaped trend:

More than 60 copies of "The Curious Cases of Benjamin Bouton" were published; while those without it usually numbered only 30.

This prompted Paul Pigut to urgently persuade Lionel to change the serialization to once a day.

(End of this chapter)