Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 163 The illness comes like a mountain

At 10 a.m., despite being in a bad mood, Lionel tidied himself up and once again took a carriage to the neighborhood where the editorial office of "The Nineteenth Century" was located.

The difference this time was that he negotiated the price beforehand.

The editorial office is located in a rather respectable Georgian-style building near Fleet Street.

Unlike the hustle and bustle of the outside world, the interior of the building is quiet and orderly.

The heavy doors, the sealed windows, and the pervasive incense created a cloyingly hot and stuffy atmosphere.

Harold Thompson, a stocky man with a thick beard, was quite enthusiastic: "Dear Lionel! Welcome to London!"
How was your trip?

Thompson gripped Lionel's hand tightly, speaking French even more fluently than in the letter.

Lionel managed a weak smile: "Thank you, Mr. Thompson. Everything is fine except that it takes a little time to adjust to the air."

Thompson laughed heartily upon hearing this: "Ah, yes, our 'pea soup' (referring to the London fog) is famous!"

But it also nourishes our unique spirit, doesn't it?

Lionel: "..." Is this a case of stinking into pride, stinking into emotion?

After exchanging pleasantries, Thompson eagerly led Lionel to the nearby "Saville Club".

This club is known for its members coming from the fields of literature, art, and academia, making it slightly more "modern" and "artsy" than traditional political and military clubs.

The club's interior is decorated in a typical British gentleman style:

Dark wood paneling, heavy leather sofas, walls covered with books and portraits.

The air was filled with the smells of cigars, old books, and Polish shoe polish.

Thompson introduced Lionel to several members present, including a renowned historian, a poet, and the editor of the Biweekly Review.

Everyone gave him a polite welcome.

Communication was primarily conducted in English, with occasional French interspersed.

Although Lionel speaks fluent English, his pronunciation has an American accent, which is quite different from "Queen's English" or "Oxford English".

While the gentlemen praised his language skills, some couldn't help but say:
"Your pronunciation... is quite unique, seemingly carrying a touch of... lightness from across the Atlantic. Did you study in the United States?"

This little incident didn't affect the atmosphere too much, but it did make Lionel feel the subtle sense of superiority of the British elite.

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The lunch served at Savile Club is distinctly British – the main course is roasted lamb chops, bacon, blood sausage and pan-fried beef kidneys, accompanied by creamy baked mushrooms and mashed potatoes, and the main course is white bread rolls with butter and toast with citrus marmalade.

The main selling point is that it's generous in portion, filling, and has plenty of oil and meat.

After lunch and a short rest, Thompson took Lionel to the editorial office of Good Words magazine.

Dr. Norman McLeod, the editor of Good Words, was a kind and approachable elder, dressed in a pastor's robe, with gentle eyes.

Upon meeting, Dr. McLeod warmly praised "Hometown" and "My Uncle Jules":
"Mr. Sorel, the sense of loss for the past and the depiction of the 'thick barriers' between people in 'Hometown' deeply moved me."

"My Uncle Jules" is so incisive and so compassionate; the questions it raises are worthy of our deep reflection.

Next, the two sides entered into substantive discussions.

Dr. McLeod did indeed intend to reprint these two works in Good Words and inquired about the possibility of serializing Benjamin Buton's Curious Cases.

When discussing royalties, Dr. McLeod quoted: "Considering that it is a reprint rather than a first publication, we are willing to pay £6 per thousand words for 'Hometown' and 'My Uncle Jules'. For the serialization of 'The Curious Case of Benjamin Buton', if the response is good, we can refer to a similar standard."

Lionel quickly did some mental calculations.

£6 is roughly equivalent to 150 francs; 1,000 words translates to about 80 to 90 lines in French standard format.

That means he received more than 1.5 francs per line—slightly more than his first-published article fee in France!
No wonder Mr. Zola mentioned more than once that if a writer wanted to get rich, he had to conquer England and Russia!
The British market truly lives up to its reputation for generosity!
Lionel didn't hesitate for long. After a little bargaining, he agreed: "Thank you very much for your generosity, Dr. McLeod!"

Dr. McLeod was pleased, and then added: "Mr. Sorel, if you have any works written directly in English in the future, and would like to have them 'first published' in Good Words..."

We can offer more competitive pricing, £8 per thousand words or even higher, which is negotiable.

This suggestion sparked an idea in Lionel's mind.

Writing directly in English, skipping the translation process, not only allows you to earn higher fees but also provides a more direct entry into the English-speaking market.

This is currently the world's largest reader market, bar none.

Lionel nodded: "I'll consider it—like Mr. Verne's 'Around the World in Eighty Days'?"

Several people laughed.

Jules Verne was French, but the protagonist of "Around the World in Eighty Days" is British.

Although the novel was not "tailor-made" for the British market and is full of stereotypes about the "British gentleman," it is still very popular in Britain.

The English translation of "Around the World in Eighty Days" premiered at the Princeton Theatre in London less than a year after the French version, only two months later.

This play features numerous stage spectacles, simulating scenes such as "steamships," "trains," "Indian temples," "American railroads," and "blizzards." It not only caused a sensation in London but also toured Manchester, Liverpool, and Edinburgh.

It was performed more than 200 times, setting a record for British stage plays at the time.

If Lionel were to write such an "English novel," Dr. Norman McLeod would not mind raising the price to £10 per thousand words.

After chatting for an afternoon and enjoying a three-tiered afternoon tea consisting of scones, fancy cakes, and Manchester tarts, Lionel shook hands with Dr. McLeod to say goodbye.

As he left the editorial office of "Good Words," he felt that the main purpose of his trip had not only been successfully achieved, but had even exceeded his expectations.

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Lionel declined Harold Thompson's invitation to stay in England for a few more days and returned to the Bedford Hotel early.

All he wants now is to escape the stench of London and return to a less stinky Paris.

But perhaps it was due to the fatigue of the journey, perhaps due to the poor air and water quality in London, or perhaps due to the humid and changeable climate...

That evening, after returning from the editorial office of "Good Words," he felt a dry and sore throat, chills throughout his body, and a slight dizziness.

Lionel didn't think much of it at first, assuming he was just tired. He drank some hot water provided by the hotel and went to bed early.

But when he woke up the next day, the situation took a sharp turn for the worse.

He had a splitting headache, his muscles ached all over, and he was shivering with cold; even wrapping himself in a thick blanket did not help.

He touched his forehead; it was burning hot.

He struggled to his feet, rang the bell to call the hotel staff, and pleaded in a weak voice to find Mr. Thompson, the editor of "Nineteenth Century" as soon as possible.

As soon as he finished speaking, Lionel fainted...

(End of this chapter)