Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 185 The Trial of Sorel

In early November, the weather in Paris had already turned completely cold.

The falling leaves of the plane trees along the Seine added a touch of desolation to the city.

However, there was no chill in the prayer room of the "St. Martha's Order"; the roaring fireplace made it warm as spring.

On the main altar, in front of an old piano, the young Achille-Claude Debussy took a deep breath and gently placed his fingertips on the black and white keys.

He didn't start immediately, but closed his eyes first, as if silently reciting the melody that had been ingrained in his soul for weeks.

Several solemn-looking visitors sat below the stage.

The leader was a man around fifty years old, dressed in black casual clothes, with a silver cross hanging around his neck, and his eyes held a scrutinizing look that suggested he had long been a superior.

He was Monsignor Jean-Baptiste Valette, a special envoy personally appointed by Louis-Antoine-Augustan Gibbon, the newly appointed Archbishop of Paris.

(Monssign is an honorary title awarded to priests by the Catholic Church.)
Two attendants, also dressed in black, sat beside him:
One was a younger priest, responsible for recording and paperwork, named Étienne Lafogue; the other was Brother Duclos, who was well-versed in music and drama.

Lionel sat in the corner, relaxed, with his eyes downcast, as if he didn't care about what was happening on stage.

Debussy's fingertips finally moved.

A tranquil, soothing prelude, like the night sky slowly unfolding, flows out.

The notes were pure and ethereal, possessing a soothing magic that instantly captured the hearts of all listeners.

After the intro, Debussy began to sing.

He doesn't have the dazzling voice of a professional singer, but he possesses a youthful clarity and sincerity that blends perfectly with the music.

Oh, night has just fallen upon the earth.

Your magical, hidden, tranquil power
How tender and sweet are the clustered shadows!
How gentle—that is your song of hope.
How magnificent—it is your divine power that transforms everything into a joyful dream…

The lyrics seemed to radiate light, while the melody, like gentle wings, softly enveloped the audience.

Monsignor Valette leaned back slightly, closed his eyes, and unconsciously tapped his fingers lightly on his knees.

Father Lafogg forgot to take notes, and the quill pen hung in mid-air.

Brother Duclos gaped, his eyes gleaming with astonishment, as if he had heard the chanting of angels.

Debussy continued singing, his emotions growing ever stronger:
Oh, the night still shrouds the earth.

Your magical, hidden, tranquil power
How tender and sweet are the clustered shadows!
Isn't it more beautiful than a dream?

Isn't it more worthy of hope than expectation...?

As the last note faded away, a long silence fell over the living room.

Brother Duclos was the first to break the silence: "Fantastic!"

He clapped softly: "Perfect! It's a divine melody! Mr. Sorel, Mr. Debussy, this 'Night'..."

It possesses a power that strikes straight to the soul! It perfectly embodies the hope and tranquility that faith can bring during the long, darkest night!

Monsignor Valette slowly opened his eyes, his gaze showing considerable emotion.

He looked at Debussy, his tone unusually admiring: "Young man, your musical talent is astonishing. This piece..."

It reminded me of those quiet nights in the monastery, when only prayer and hymns accompanied me.

It is filled with a sense of sacredness, yet it is so close to the human heart.

He then turned to Lionel: “Mr. Sorel, with just this core piece, I can feel the longing for light and redemption that you have poured into this ‘Chorus’. It does indeed sound like a… well… profound and beautiful hymn to the values ​​of faith.”

Father Lafogger nodded quickly: "Yes, Monsignor. The music is impeccable, full of the power to purify the soul."

This is absolutely a masterpiece that can move all believers and even enlighten the confused.

Lionel bowed slightly: "Thank you very much for your recognition, Monsignor Valette, Brother Duclos, Father Lafog."

Asher and I have always hoped that music could be the core vehicle for conveying hope in this play.

We believe that only the purest beauty can touch the deepest emotions in the hearts of the audience.

Debussy also stood up from the piano and bowed somewhat shyly to the crowd.

However, the harmonious atmosphere in the living room soon underwent a subtle change.

Monsignor Valette coughed softly, crossed his fingers in front of him, and resumed his previous cautious demeanor.

He then changed the subject, becoming slightly hesitant: "But, Mr. Sorel, music is indeed the language of heaven, capable of directly touching the soul."

But drama… is ultimately a secular art built upon characters, plot, and conflict. We enjoyed the music and read the script…

We must admit that we still have some... doubts about certain specific aspects of the script.

Lionel remained unmoved: "Please speak frankly, Monsignor. I believe that open communication will help us achieve a better understanding."

Bishop Valette glanced at Father Lafog, who immediately took out a thick manuscript of the play "The Choir" from his briefcase and turned to the marked pages.

Bishop Valette carefully chose his words: "First, it concerns Dean Lazzi... the head of the reformatory, a priest."

We must admit that the management style of the character you've created... well... seems overly strict. For example, here—"

Father Lafogger then read a passage from the script:
[Scene: Classroom at the "Pond Bottom Correctional Institution". Pierre is being punished by Headmaster Lazzi for a prank.]
Dean Lazi: Wrong, yet another mistake. Morangie, your stupidity and laziness are like a chronic disease ingrained in your soul. It seems that mere copying cannot cleanse you of your defilement. Now, go to the solitary confinement. No light, no sound, only you and your glue-filled head for company. Until you truly feel the sting of remorse. May the Lord have mercy on you in that darkness.

(Pierre was trembling with fear and was taken away by his coworkers.)

After Father Lafogg finished reading, he raised his head, his brow furrowed: "Mr. Sorel, isn't this method of punishment and these words... a bit too... negative?"
This seems inconsistent with the image of 'kind guidance' that we hope to project from a reformatory under church management.

This could easily lead viewers to misunderstand the church, thinking that we advocate a kind of discipline that lacks love and tolerance.

Brother Duclos's tone was relatively mild, but equally concerned: "And his attitude toward the choir."

Teacher Mathieu's idea of ​​forming a choir was a good thing, meant to guide children with beauty and kindness.

But Dean Lazie repeatedly obstructed the process, even denouncing it as "useless noise" and "indulgence that deviates from the right path."

This...this seems to create a huge disconnect with the sacredness that music itself brings.

The audience might wonder, why would a priest resist something that could so clearly bring about positive change?

Monsignor Valette looked sharply at Lionel: "Mr. Sorel, we understand that drama needs conflict."

But does this portrayal overemphasize the negative aspects? Does it truly help to showcase the theme of 'redemption' you're referring to?

Or... will it, to some extent, weaken or even distort the 'friendly' effect we hope to achieve?

Lionel listened patiently to all the questions, without showing any displeasure or panic on his face.

He even waited a few seconds to make sure the other person had finished speaking before slowly opening his mouth, his tone calm and confident.

(End of this chapter)