Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 214 The Rumor Factory at Full Speed
On the eve of Count Rohan’s impatience, Albert received a letter from Lionel, asking him to come to an apartment on Rue Saint-Dominique in the sixth arrondissement.

That afternoon, Albert, feeling uneasy, knocked on the apartment door again.

This time, Lionel opened the door with a busy and excited look on his face.

Lionel pulled him inside: "Come in, Albert!"

Albert was stunned by the sight before him as soon as he entered.

The apartment's cramped living room was filled with smoke.

The air was filled with a mixture of smells of coffee, ink, tobacco, and male sweat.

Four or five people were sitting around a large table, engrossed in writing.

Crumpled manuscript papers and empty wine bottles were scattered all over the ground.

Albert recognized one of them—Guy de Maupassant—one of his father’s men who had appeared at the ball last year.

He was currently chewing on his pipe, his brow furrowed, and writing something rapidly.

Lionel then introduced them: “You should have met Maupassant before. This is Joris-Karl Huysmann; this is Paul Alexis; this is Henri Céar…”

These are all my good friends, and yes, Mr. Zola's good friends too.

The group only exchanged a brief greeting with Albert before returning to their focused work.

They would occasionally exchange a few words in hushed tones, and at other times burst into low, mischievous laughter.

Albert stammered, "This...this is?"

Lionel chuckled easily, “Ah, this is our ‘rumor factory,’ and it’s running at full speed.”

Lionel spoke as if he were introducing a great undertaking.

Lionel pushed Albert forward: "Albert de Rohan, our 'special advisor'."

He was responsible for providing the freshest reactions of surprise, which served as creative material for everyone.

Maupassant looked up, a speck of ink still clinging to his beard: "Hey! Give my regards to the Deputy Minister! Now, listen to what I have to say—"

According to a court lady who wished to remain anonymous, Mr. Lionel Sorel was actually a secret literary advisor serving the Russian Tsar.

His works were included in the reader's guide to instill Slavic mysticism in French children!

How about that? Exciting enough?

He finished speaking and then burst into laughter.

Without even looking up, Huysman said dismissively, "Too conservative. Mine is better—"

Lionel Sorel's works, once translated, will become gifts from the Prime Minister to foreign heads of state, and the French Academy is preparing to exceptionally award him the title of 'Lifetime Member'.

Since you've already started spreading rumors, how can you not be a little bolder?

Albert was stunned, completely unable to process what was happening.

Lionel walked to the table, picked up a few freshly written manuscripts, and quickly scanned them, sometimes nodding, sometimes shaking his head.

"Hmm... This article says I'm going to be elected an honorary citizen of Paris and have the privilege of riding all public carriages for free... Not bad, that's down-to-earth."

"This article says that Archbishop Gibb invited me to revise the French translation of the Bible... It's a good angle, but it's not appropriate to provoke the Church too much for now; they're still fighting amongst themselves."

"This article says that my portrait will soon be printed on postcards issued by the Alps Post Office... Hmm, that's interesting, but it lacks power—it could be something like, 'Lionel Sorel's portrait will soon be printed on new stamps issued by the Republic.'"

He picked up the essay Maupassant had just written about the Russian Tsar and laughed, "Guy, yours is too exaggerated and lacks a sense of realism."

It's most deceptive to say something that's only partially true. You should say that someone saw me entering and leaving the Russian embassy late at night, carrying Pushkin's manuscripts or something similar.

Maupassant slapped his forehead: "That makes sense! I'll change it right away!"

Albert finally couldn't hold back any longer. He grabbed Lionel and asked in a low voice, "Leon! My God! What are you doing? Aren't there enough rumors going around already?"

"You're just adding fuel to the fire!" Lionel patted him on the shoulder, pulled him to the window, and pointed outside: "Albert, look outside, suppose there's a huge fire burning over there..."

The initial rumors were like a fire that had already spread. Trying to pour water on it, cover it with sand… even trying to reason with it—all of these only made the fire grow bigger, the smoke thicker, and eventually it consumed everything.

"Then...what should we do?"

"What do they do? In the mines, when fires cannot be extinguished by conventional methods, miners use a technique called 'explosive fire extinguishing'."

Albert was completely bewildered and could only repeat Lionel's words: "Explosion extinguishing method?"

Lionel nodded and patiently explained, "Yes. It's about deliberately triggering a small, controlled explosion in the mine where the fire occurred."

The explosion generated a powerful shockwave that instantly depleted the oxygen in the mine and suppressed the flames.

This moment of extreme chaos and suffocation could actually extinguish a fire that could have destroyed the entire mine.

He pointed to his friends behind him who were "spreading rumors": "Now, the rumors about me are out of control like a mine fire, and ordinary debunking is useless."

So the best way is for us to create more, more bizarre, more absurd, and more exaggerated rumors ourselves! Drop them like bombs!

When a rumor becomes outrageous enough, and everyone starts to think that the news is absurd and unbelievable, the initial rumor of "three articles selected" will also lose credibility and become laughable and powerless.

People's attention and curiosity are limited in a certain amount of time; they are like the oxygen that allows rumors to spread.

When the 'oxygen' is quickly burned out, the emotion will shift from anger to mockery, and one may even begin to reflect on whether the initial message was equally ridiculous.

This is the "explosive fire extinguishing method" used when dealing with public opinion.

Albert stared wide-eyed, frozen in place, struggling to process this astonishing and risky strategy.

This is simply... insane! But it also seems... somewhat reasonable?
Albert stammered, "So, that report about 'four articles being selected'..."

Lionel shrugged: "I wrote it—I originally wanted to write it by myself, but the workload was just too great, and it just so happened that Maupassant and the others were free..."

Albert: "..."

Maupassant finished writing the new manuscript and leaned over to hand it to Lionel.

Albert's face still showed worry: "Leon, will this move really work? I feel like I'm walking a tightrope... what if it gets out of control..."

Lionel took the manuscript, glanced at it quickly, and smiled with satisfaction: "Don't worry, Albert, that's human nature. What we want is for public opinion to spiral out of control."

When they find that all the news about me has become as unreliable as a circus advertisement, they will naturally begin to doubt the original Gaulish newspaper. And…”

He paused, a smile spreading across his face: "Those who are truly fanning the flames behind the scenes will feel uneasy and afraid when they see the situation become so chaotic and uncontrollable, because they have lost control of public opinion."

Just wait and see, the real show is just beginning.

He turned to the crowd and said, "Alright, gentlemen, this batch of 'bombs' is almost ready. Let's go to 'Black Forest' for a meal later! It's on me!"

Maupassant and the others cheered.

Lionel tidied up the papers on the table and stuffed them into Albert's arms: "Albert, please send these submissions from 'A Real Parisian' and 'Anonymous Scholar' to Le Figaro, Le Debates, Le Soir, and those tabloids."

Albert still looked bewildered: "Me?"

Lionel shrugged: "You can go around near Le Gaul and Il Universal, find a suitable mailbox and drop it in to make sure they receive it as soon as possible."

We need to make our editors listen carefully to the voices of the people.

Albert followed Lionel out of the apartment, feeling dizzy. A gust of cold wind helped him regain some clarity.

He looked at Lionel beside him, at his calm profile, as if he were meeting him for the first time.

Lionel was both a genius and a complete madman.

Only a madman would choose to deal with public opinion in this way.

(End of this chapter)