Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

The turmoil stirred up by Chapter 151, "Hometown"
The literary supplement of Le Petit Parisien published Lionel Sorel's short story "Hometown" on its front page, once again stirring up public opinion in Paris.

The first to react strongly were the unknown immigrants from the provinces scattered throughout Paris.

"Hometown" is like a key that unlocks the lock called "nostalgia" deep in their hearts.

These readers may not all come from small mountain towns like Montiel; some come from farms in Normandy, some from fishing villages in Brittany, some from vineyards in Burgundy, and some from towns in the Massif Massif…

But what they all share is that they are "provincials" who were forced to leave their homeland and struggle to survive in Paris, the "City of Light," in order to live or pursue their dreams.

In the Latin Quarter printing house, there was a typesetter named Pierre who worked day and night. He came from the rural area of ​​Limousin.

When he read Lun Tu's respectful yet distant "Master" in "My Hometown," his hand paused, and the lead type fell to the ground...

After get off work, he made an exception and didn't go to the pub, but instead bought the cheapest bottle of wine.

Back in his cramped attic, he drank by the dim light of a kerosene lamp, silently weeping, longing for his parents and the land he could never return to.

Marion, a maid who works near Place Madeleine, comes from the countryside of the Champagne region.

She read "My Hometown" in a newspaper that her wife had discarded, and the story of rural poverty and the dilemma of land inheritance resonated deeply with her.

She was forced to come to Paris to make a living because her family had too little land and too many people.

She hid in the laundry room and cried secretly, not only for Lun Tu in the story, but also for her own meager dowry and uncertain future.

There were also sales clerks working in department stores, junior civil servants from Nantes, and Corsican men doing manual labor on construction sites...

"My Hometown" touched upon their complex feelings of both love and resentment towards their hometown, as well as the hardships and alienation of integrating into the metropolis.

In cafes, in workshop corners, and downstairs in rented apartments, people began to whisper about the novel in French with accents from various regions…

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.

The Parisian literary scene quickly took notice of the novel and keenly observed that Lionel had returned to the calm, restrained, and realistic style of "The Old Guard".

In particular, the novel's profound and subtle depiction of the desolation of rural areas in remote parts of France has inspired critics.

Jules Janant, the literary critic and senior writer for Le Figaro, penned a lengthy review in which he enthusiastically praised the work:
"...Homeland" convincingly demonstrates Lionel Sorel's astonishing insight and compassion, painting a heartbreaking picture of the French countryside.

His portrayal of the characters' fates and the changes of the times, and his depiction of class divisions and human tenderness, are enough to remind us of the great Balzac.

This is undoubtedly the finest and most thought-provoking French rural short story we have read since *The Human Comedy*.

The commentary in the Debate Daily focused more on its social significance:

The value of *Hometown* extends far beyond literature; it reveals the painful struggles being endured in those neglected corners of France outside of Paris.

The fragmentation of the land, the heavy taxes, the exodus of young people... Lionel used literature to reflect the shadows beneath the facade of the republic's prosperity.

These issues deserve the serious attention of the government and cabinet ministers, rather than being drowned out by grand slogans.

The Times commentator also pointed out:

[...Lionel Sorel did not make any empty political pronouncements or moralizing; he simply narrated calmly, yet every conscientious reader could feel the thunder beneath that calm surface.]

This novel should be sent to the desk of every member of parliament.

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.

Unlike the reactions of the literary world and the general public, government officials at the Palais Bourbon and the Palace of Martinique showed great indifference and even impatience with the novel.

The secretary placed the newspaper containing "Homeland" and related commentary on the desk of Adolf Lepluf, the Minister of Agriculture and Commerce.

Adolph Leplu, who was busy drafting a new agricultural tax bill, only glanced at it briefly before impatiently pushing it aside: "It's just the same old whining of these writers! Exaggeration, sensationalism! In pursuit of artistic effect, they always piece together the most extreme and tragic examples."

The situation in rural France is not nearly as bad as some people think; most farmers are content with their lot and live peacefully.

The secretary kindly reminded him, "Minister, there's a lot of discussion about this novel right now... regarding public opinion..."

Adolph Leplu gave a disdainful smile, then his tone became serious again: "For the sake of great France, for the repayment of the national debt, for the construction of railways and fleets, someone always has to make sacrifices."

Everyone is under immense pressure, not just them!

Do these writers know that I have to work overtime for at least half an hour every day?

Sigh, it's not that I'm without compassion, but... I'll bear the blame for the farmers' suffering!

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.

On the beach in Naples, Italy, in the mansion of Madame Rothschild, "Hometown" also became a hot topic of discussion.

It's unclear when exactly, but discussing Lionel's works—whether it's the unforgettable "Letter from an Unknown Woman" or the ongoing "The Curious Case of Benjamin Buton"—has become a regular topic.

Of course, the discussion of "My Hometown" here takes a completely different tone.

Ladies and gentlemen, dressed in exquisite attire and sipping champagne, discussed the distant world of Montiel, a place they had never encountered before, under the dazzling crystal chandeliers, with a mixture of curiosity, sympathy, and a touch of morbid curiosity.

The fate of the Luntu family became the object of their pity.

"Oh, my dear, have you read it? That poor farmer, how tragic!"

"Yes, it's hard to imagine that there are such poor places in France."

"'Hope is neither something that exists nor something that does not exist, just as a path is on the ground.' My God, Lionel always has golden quotes waiting for us!"

"That's because Mr. Lionel Sorel truly has a heart of gold; he was able to notice and write these things down."

Mrs. Rothschild, seated in the main seat, keenly sensed the pervasive feeling of sympathy in the salon.

She has always regarded Lionel as one of her most astute "investments" and "collections".

Ever since she sent her head maid, Lia, to confront the arrogant Sophia at the oral exam of the Sorbonne's academic year, rumors about an ambiguous relationship between Lionel and her have been circulating among the noblewomen.

Mrs. Rothschild noticed, but didn't care—Lionel wasn't the fat, rude Balzac—the ladies would only be driven mad with envy.

Therefore, every success Lionel achieved added prestige to her reputation among high society women.

Thinking of this, Rothschild gently put down his feather fan: "Gentlemen, Lionel's words have allowed us to touch a scar on France."

"Sighing is not enough. We who enjoy the glamour of Paris should perhaps do something real for those poor people..."

An impromptu charity fundraiser began.

The ladies readily opened their wallets, perhaps out of genuine sympathy, perhaps to curry favor with Mrs. Rothschild, or perhaps simply to demonstrate their own kindness...

Soon, a donation of up to 20,000 francs was raised.

Mrs. Rothschild immediately announced that the money would be donated to the town of Montiel in the name of "friends in Paris" to "improve people's livelihood"...

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.

Lionel was unaware that his "Hometown" was once again generating an extraordinary response in Paris, and he now faced an enormous challenge, even more difficult than when he was struggling to survive in Paris...

(End of this chapter)