Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 125 (Bonus Chapter as Self-Punishment) She gave so much!

(I was supposed to post 3 chapters today plus 1 bonus chapter for the Alliance Leader, but I felt ashamed for being so late last night, so I'm adding an extra chapter. Also, I'd like to ask for your monthly votes.)
For Lionel, the written test in mid-June was more like a routine ritual.

He sat upright in the ancient and solemn prayer hall of the Sorbonne, the rustling sound of his quill pen across the paper like a silkworm eating leaves—I wonder if the French have ever heard of such a sound.

The written test covered Latin grammar, French literary history, philosophical propositions, and an argumentative essay.

Thanks to the solid foundation laid by the original author and his own profound understanding of 19th-century literary trends—almost like a form of "cheating"—he wrote with ease and clarity.

As the last period fell, Lionel already knew what was going on.

A few days later, the results were released, and my name was prominently listed among the top of the list of those who passed.

But the real challenge lies in the oral exam at the end of June.

After a week of intense preparation, the day of the oral exam arrived.

The atmosphere in the tiered classroom at the Sorbonne College of Arts, used for advanced degree examinations, was unusually somber.

Directly in front of him, behind a long table covered with dark green wool, sat three examiners who would decide Lionel's fate:

Professor Gustave Durand, a leading figure in literary history, was the examiner; Professor Henri Moreau, an expert in classical languages, was in charge of the Latin section; and Professor Philippe Leclerc, an authority on philosophy and rhetoric, was the examiner.

However, what truly made this oral exam as lively as a marketplace was the packed audience of onlookers at the back and sides of the classroom.

Besides the academic supervisors who were required to attend and a small number of lower-grade student representatives, there were mostly upper-grade students who had rushed over upon hearing the news, young lecturers from other departments, and even several journalists and literary critics who were quite famous in Paris!
They whispered amongst themselves as if waiting for a good show to begin, their eyes fixed intently on the lone hardwood chair in the center of the classroom.

Clearly, the oral examination of "The Conscience of the Sorbonne" was just as captivating as the premiere of a new play.

Lionel bowed calmly to the professors and then sat down on the hardwood chair.

He could feel the weight of the hundreds of gazes behind him, but he forced himself to calm down and focus his attention on the examiners.

The oral exam has officially begun.

The first round was Latin interpretation and commentary.

Professor Moreau expressionlessly handed him a yellowed sheet of paper containing an excerpt from Cicero's speech: "Read it aloud, translate it, analyze its rhetorical structure, and explain its purpose in the speech."

Lionel took the paper and hesitated for a moment. He adjusted his breathing and began to read aloud in clear and rhythmic Latin.

His pronunciation was generally accurate, and the stress was clear, but it lacked intonation and failed to convey the eloquence of Cicero.

After finishing reading, he barely paused—thanks to his solid foundation in rote memorization—and quickly translated the Latin into fluent French, with the translation of key terms also being largely accurate.

Then, he pointed to several places in the original text: "Here, Cicero used strong parallelism and repetition... His purpose was to build up anger and directly target Katillin;
……

Here, he used a sharp rhetorical question, not to seek an answer, but to reinforce the accusations against Katirin;
……

Furthermore, this series of metaphors, comparing Katilin's plot to a 'lurking plague' and a 'burning flame,' vividly depicts its harmfulness and aims to arouse fear and vigilance in the Senate.

……

The core rhetorical purpose of this entire passage is to portray Katillin as a public enemy of the Roman Republic through a series of progressively stronger emotions and imagery, thus laying the moral foundation for the subsequent severe punishment.

Lionel spoke more and more fluently, almost as if he were back in the Chinese college entrance examination Chinese test room. Putting aside the language barrier, the problems of the 19th century seemed too simple in the 21st century.

Professor Moreau listened, his face still expressionless, but he kept nodding slightly—Lionel knew he was almost certain of victory this time.

The second round of exams covered comparative literature and intellectual history.

Professor Leclerc's voice was sharp: "Mr. Sorel, now please turn your attention to the Enlightenment—Rousseau's educational philosophy of 'natural man' in Emile, and Voltaire's advocacy of reason and the progress of civilization in Philosophical Letters."

What are the fundamental differences between the two? And how are these differences reflected in their styles?

A soft gasp came from the audience seats at the back, clearly taken aback by the difficulty of the question.

Lionel asked to consider for a moment and received the professor's permission.

He closed his eyes and concentrated for nearly three minutes before opening them, his gaze clear: "Professor, the difference between Rousseau and Voltaire lies in their fundamental judgments on the value of 'civilization.' Rousseau viewed society as a shackle, the root of private ownership, inequality, and moral decay."

……

His 'natural man,' such as Emile, needs to be far removed from social pollution and can only preserve his innate goodness and freedom in the embrace of nature. Therefore, Rousseau's writing style is full of surging emotions..."

Lionel paused briefly before continuing, his pace still steady: "Voltaire firmly believed that civilization, science, and reason were the only torch that could illuminate ignorance and drive human progress."

……

While he also criticized the darker aspects of society—for example, his satire of absurd war scenes in *Candide*—his criticism stemmed from a call for improvement of specific ills, rather than a denial of civilization as a whole.

Therefore, he admired Britain's constitutional monarchy and religious tolerance, regarding them as the fruits of reason. This also shaped his sharp, clear, and satirical style, with short, powerful sentences full of aphorisms, aiming to enlighten minds.

……

In short, Rousseau was a romantic who sought redemption through introspection and nature, his style like a torrent; Voltaire was a standard-bearer of reason in enlightening people, his style like lightning.

Lionel's answer was well-structured, with appropriate citations, and presented viewpoints consistent with academic perspectives, demonstrating a balanced and impartial approach.

Lionel remained calm. During those three minutes, he mainly recalled the content of "History of Foreign Literature" that he had taught in his previous life.

Professor Leclerc nodded approvingly, while Professor Durand quickly jotted something down in his notebook. Several young lecturers in the audience murmured expressions of admiration.

It was truly eye-opening for a second-year student to have such a profound and comprehensive understanding of two masters, Rousseau and Voltaire.

The third round of oral examinations involved in-depth analysis of French literature.

Professor Durand adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses: "Mr. Sorel, let's focus on a more recent era. What are the essential differences between Victor Hugo and Honoré de Balzac in their 'presentation of social reality'?"

Does this difference stem from their differing understandings of the function of 'novel'?

This question directly addresses the core debates of 19th-century realist literature. The entire classroom fell silent; even Professor Moreau looked up.

Lionel remained calm and composed, his voice steady and powerful: "Professor, Mr. Hugo's *Les Misérables* is a humanitarian epic and a moral allegory."

His ultimate purpose in exposing the darkness of society is to call for compassion, justice, and divine redemption.

……

His characters are often symbolic, and his plots are full of dramatic coincidences and emotional torrents, because he believes that the power of the novel lies in its ability to move people's hearts, awaken their conscience, and even transform the world..."

Lionel adjusted his posture slightly; the hardwood chair was pressing against his tailbone, causing him pain. "Mr. Balzac, on the other hand, preferred analysis and presentation. He called himself the 'scribe of French society' and wanted to construct an all-encompassing social model with *The Human Comedy*."

……

He presents reality to reveal the logic behind the workings of money, power, and human nature, pursuing objectivity in plot development and authenticity in details.

……

His narrative is calmer and more restrained, with characters acting under the pressure of their environment and driven by their own desires, and the author's voice hidden behind the characters' dialogue.

……

He believed that the primary function of novels was to help people understand society and human nature.

……

Therefore, Mr. Hugo wrote his sacred manifesto in the form of a novel, while Mr. Balzac wrote his social investigation report in the form of a novel.

As Lionel finished speaking, applause and hushed cheers erupted from the back of the classroom. His mind remained calm; he had just recounted a conclusion from another volume of "A History of Foreign Literature," a key point he had highlighted countless times for his students' exams.

But to outsiders, his analysis was incisive and made a stark contrast, not only accurately grasping the characteristics of the two masters, but also elevating it to the level of literary function.

Beneath Professor Durand's white beard, the corners of his mouth couldn't help but curve upwards, and he unusually exclaimed in a loud voice, "Brilliant! Mr. Sorel!"

The atmosphere seemed to have reached a climax, and the three examiners exchanged satisfied glances, preparing to announce the results directly.

However, at this moment——

"Brilliant? Forgive my bluntness, professors, but this so-called 'brilliance' is nothing but a repetition of clichés!"

A clear, melodious female voice, with a distinct foreign accent and undisguised arrogance, suddenly rang out at the back door of the trapezoidal classroom, like an icicle piercing the intense air.

Everyone's attention was instantly drawn to it. Standing at the door was a young woman in her early twenties, tall and slender, like a proud white birch tree.

She had dazzling, thick blonde hair that shimmered like molten gold; her face was strikingly beautiful, almost flamboyant; and she wore a perfectly tailored, luxurious dark blue travel suit with expensive sable fur trim on the collar and cuffs.

She stood there, like a dazzling star that had suddenly fallen to earth, or a young queen who had come to inspect her territory: "I am Sofia Ivanovna Durova-Sherbatova, daughter of Baroness Alexievna."

On behalf of my mother, who is also one of the Sorbonne's most important donors this year, I formally question the depth and rigor of this oral examination!

Lionel looked at her in surprise and found Dean Henry Patan standing next to her.

The highly respected dean looked embarrassed, but Lionel still understood the meaning: "I'm sorry, Lionel, she gave far too much..."

　Five updates today, totaling over 13,000 words, breaking my record since I started writing. Thank you all for your support!
　　
　
(End of this chapter)