Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 115 A Special Visitor to Le Figaro
Of course, not everyone was happy about the bestseller status of Benjamin Buton’s Curious Cases, especially Le Figaro and Jules Claretti.

After suppressing his disgust and anger, he carefully studied Lionel's articles and novels, and finally found a literary criticism that could also be described as "powerful", which he handed to the editor Armand de Lamothe.

Lamote has been in a lot of trouble lately. Le Figaro has suffered losses in verbal battles before, but it has never been attacked so severely on both moral and taste levels.

His refusal to publish Lionel's rebuttal, in particular, drew widespread criticism after the newspaper La Repubblica published it.

Even Émile Zola, who had a good relationship with Le Figaro, published an article in Le Matin, saying that Le Figaro's rejection of his article was "unacceptable" and "a sign of journalistic dictatorship."

As a result, Le Figaro's retail sales were two to three thousand copies lower than usual.

Although it was insignificant compared to the total sales of 6 copies and could be considered within the range of "normal fluctuations," Editor-in-Chief Lamote still sensed a crisis.

He desperately needs an article that can turn the tide and restore people's confidence in Le Figaro.

So when Jules Claretti placed his new book on his desk, editor-in-chief Lamotte couldn't wait to flip through it.

A few minutes later, he peeked out from behind the manuscript with a questioning look in his eyes: "Claretti, are you sure you want to write it this way?"

Jules Clare placed his hands on the desk, leaning slightly forward to create a rather imposing posture: "Mr. Lamotte, if we cannot stand firm on our position now, we will truly lose our readers!"

Editor-in-Chief Lamote fell into deep thought, and after a long while, he slowly said, "You're right, Le Figaro cannot lose its ground."

A day later, Claretti's latest long article appeared in the literary supplement of Le Figaro, and from the title alone, it was exceptionally inflammatory:
"A Double Betrayal: On the Dangerous Transgression of the French Sacred Order and Historical Truth in Benjamin's 'The Curious Cases of Bouton'"

This time, Claretti avoided using the emotionally charged term "freak show," which could easily be used against him, and instead attempted to launch an attack from a more "Le Figaro" perspective:

The 'growing backwards' concept proposed by Mr. Sorel is not a harmless literary imagination, but a naked blasphemy and transgression against the sacred order of nature and life established by God!
Birth, aging, sickness, and death are immutable laws of the Creator, the cornerstone of cosmic harmony and human ethics. Mr. Sorel's act of making an infant 'age from birth' and then 'grow backwards' is tantamount to declaring that God's blueprint can be arbitrarily altered and the laws of life can be wantonly distorted!

This setting leads readers to nihilism about the essence of life and shakes their reverence for the sacred order, and its harm is far greater than the superficial 'grotesque'!
This undermines the foundations of religious faith and erodes social morality and ethics! A truly great work of literature should guide people towards goodness, reverence for the divine, and adherence to the laws of nature, rather than challenging the authority of the Creator with sensationalist fantasies, like Benjamin's *The Curious Cases of Bouton*!

"Damn it!" Maupassant slammed the copy of Le Figaro on the table and paced angrily in the living room of his teacher's apartment.

Today he came to hand in a script he had just written to his teacher—a five-act play called "The Writer, the Liar, the Lady and the Policeman," inspired by the true story of his good friend Lionel.

As soon as he entered, Flaubert handed him a copy of Le Figaro and told him to take a good look at Jules Claretti's article.

Maupassant was furious after reading just the beginning: "He is trying to elevate literary criticism to a religious level, and wants to use the church to deal with Lionel!"

Flaubert looked at his young, impulsive disciple and shook his head helplessly: "The Church shouldn't be so ruthless as to destroy 'The Curious Cases of Benjamin Buton,' after all, their negative image hasn't appeared in the novel yet."

Le Figaro is trying to rekindle the enthusiasm of its loyal readers and prevent them from leaving due to the rejection of the article.

Maupassant then angrily picked up Le Figaro and began to read:
Furthermore, Mr. Sorel's placement of his absurd protagonist in the sacred and tragic historical moment of the French Revolution is a serious distortion and disrespect for historical truth! The fall of the Bastille, the collapse of the old regime, and the rebirth of France—this is a great epic forged with the blood and ideals of countless sages!

When readers are engrossed in the extraordinary adventures of a baby growing backwards, how much of their attention is left to appreciate the arduous birth of the great French spirit—"liberty, equality, fraternity"? Mr. Sorel, with his cheap fantasy, dissolves the solemnity and weight of history, reducing a momentous event that determined the fate of a nation to a mere fantasy story satisfying a thirst for the bizarre! This is an insult to historical martyrs and a misguidance of the reader's understanding of history!

Maupassant was keenly aware of Jules Claretti's wickedness—he accused Lionel of using major historical events as a gimmick in an attempt to incite discontent among French conservatives.

That wasn't all; Claretti added insult to injury based on the latest chapter's plot:

Finally, the so-called "friendship" between Benjamin and Daphne, as depicted by Mr. Sorel, is also unsettling. The overly intimate relationship between a 'ten-year-old' boy who looks like a man in his sixties and a real ten-year-old girl, romanticized and portrayed, easily evokes imaginings in readers that may cross ethical boundaries. Mr. Sorel clearly lacks the necessary caution in this regard; his depiction of a 'pure' friendship, in the eyes of some readers, is perhaps no less alluring than that in *Decadent City*.

Upon reading this, Maupassant jumped up from his chair and tore Le Figaro to shreds: "Slander! Slander! Utter slander! Lionel is depicting the pure and innocent feelings between children!"
How can you compare it to "Decadent City"? Lionel is not some philandering conman like "an honest Parisian"!

Huysman and I invited him to "Caesar's Summer Palace," but he refused to go...

Flaubert, standing nearby, quickly coughed, interrupting Maupassant's unbridled remarks: "Guy, Lionel is your friend, and also a promising young man..."

This is a great opportunity to speak out for your friend Lionel, and also to speak out for yourselves.

Maupassant instantly understood his teacher's meaning: whether it was Le Figaro, Le Petit Parisien, or Le Republic, their influence was first-rate.

This is practically a golden opportunity to become famous!

He nodded quickly: "I'll go find Hussmann and Paul right away."

After saying that, he hurriedly left the teacher's house, forgetting even to ask about his own script.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Jules Claretti sat in his office, also holding a copy of Le Figaro.

He read his article over and over again, and finally smiled confidently—he had figured out how to apply the despicable rhetoric Lionel had used.

Despite escalating the issue, shifting the focus, and making moral attacks, his learning ability is still quite strong, as a top-notch commentator in Paris.

Just as he was feeling pleased with himself, Editor-in-Chief Lamote's assistant arrived: "Mr. Lamote would like to see you in his office."

Claretti perked up, stood up, straightened his clothes and hair, and followed his assistant through the vintage corridors of Le Figaro to the door of Armand de La Motte's editor-in-chief's office.

After the assistant knocked on the door, a gruff voice came from inside: "Come in."

Claretti then pushed open the door and went inside.

In the large editor-in-chief's office, the atmosphere was heavy. Opposite the editor-in-chief, Lamote, sat a figure wearing a dark blue military uniform with long gold tassels on his epaulets.

(End of this chapter)