Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 230 Disagreement
The winter sun shines through the spacious glass windows of Meitang Villa, casting dappled light and shadows into the room.

The air was filled with the rich aromas of roasted grouse, black truffles, and aged Bordeaux wines, while oak crackled softly in the fireplace, creating a languid and comfortable atmosphere.

The salon held every Saturday at Zola's suburban villa was one of Lionel's favorite salons among the many in Paris.

Not only because it is far from the hustle and bustle of the city and the coal smoke, but more importantly, because Émile Zola always treated his friends to the most seasonal ingredients.

As soon as Lionel stepped into the foyer, he heard Guy de Maupassant and Émile Zola talking in the living room.

Zola was the first to greet him: "Guy told me, Leon, Gustave was in grave danger this time! It's all thanks to you!"

Maupassant also went up and hugged Lionel.

Lionel waved his hand modestly: "When we arrived, the doctors had already finished treating him. We just stayed with him for two days."

Zola patted him on the shoulder: "Leon, the doctor heals the body, and friends comfort the soul. Your company will help him recover faster."

I can't wait to see Gustave return to Paris!

The atmosphere at lunch at Meitang Villa was as lively as ever.

The long table was laden with delicacies that Mrs. Alexandrin had carefully prepared:

Plump Dijon snails, fresh oysters from the Normandy coast, and black truffles from Périgord;

The main course is fragrant veal in white sauce with winter vegetables, along with a variety of cheeses, desserts and breads;

Of course, there's also the rich and flavorful Bordeaux, as well as liqueurs, champagne... almost everything you could want.

However, due to Flaubert's illness, the atmosphere at the dinner table was somewhat somber, mainly because the most lively Maupassant was in low spirits, and no one dared to joke around.

After the meal, everyone moved to the living room, where they drank coffee and apple brandy, and their spirits gradually rose.

Zola suddenly stood up, his face beaming with excitement: "Friends, today I have something important to share with you all."

This is the cornerstone for our 'Meitang Group' to potentially enter a new phase.

He walked to the desk and picked up a thick stack of manuscripts: "This is a lecture manuscript, which I have almost finished."

I believe this lecture will provide a solid and scientific theoretical framework for 'naturalism'!

I will release it during my spring lectures at the École Normale Supérieure in Paris!

He handed the manuscript to Henri Céar, who was closest to him: "Take a look, I hope to get your most sincere opinions."

The manuscript was quickly passed around among the people, who also kept whispering about it.

When Lionel received it, he was actually quite calm—if nothing unexpected happened, this was Zola's most important theoretical work, "On the Experimental Novel".

He turned to the first page, and those familiar arguments, declarations, and terms borrowed from Claude Bernard's medical theories... all came into view.

Lionel had long been aware of the merits and demerits of this work.

Zola paced excitedly, as if he were already standing on the podium of the École Normale Supérieure in Paris: "Gentlemen, traditional literature relies too much on inspiration, imagination and that elusive genius!"
Times have changed! The nineteenth century was the century of science, the century of positivism! Novelists should not indulge in entertaining society or moralizing!
We should also become scientists!

People were not surprised by Zola's view, after all, he had expressed similar views many times in his past salons.

However, this is the first time that novelists have been directly equated with "scientists".

Zola's voice grew louder and louder: "We novelists should set up our story scenarios and characters like chemists handle reagents in a laboratory!"
The individuals are our experimental subjects; their personalities are determined by genetics, and their behavior is driven by the environment. We will place them in specific situations, then calmly observe and record their inevitable actions to verify certain inevitable laws of society!

When he got excited, he even waved his arms to make his point more powerful: "Imagine literary creation is as rigorous as natural science, repeatable and predictable!"

Literature will possess the power to diagnose society and even predict the future! 'Naturalism' will no longer be merely a literary ideal, but a scientific theory!

After Zola finished speaking, he looked at his friends expectantly, as if waiting for enthusiastic applause.

Paul Alexis and Henri Céart showed expressions of admiration and agreement; they were awestruck by Zola's grand vision and murmured their praise.

As always, Huysman curled his lip, seemingly finding the theory somewhat "vulgar," but too lazy to refute it immediately.

Maupassant frowned first: "Émile, that sounds good. But what have we created for our characters?"

Frogs in laboratory flasks or dissected rabbits? Don't they have their own will?

He put down his manuscript, picked up his wine glass and took a sip: "When I'm writing, I often feel that my characters come to life on their own, holding my pen and writing."

Isn't that the most fascinating aspect of writing? If everything were predetermined, like a lab report, what would be the point of creating?

What's the difference between us and the employees who compile railway timetables?

Zola hadn't expected Maupassant to contradict him, and his tone became somewhat impatient: "Guy! Your thinking is a remnant of Romanticism and Realism!"

Science requires precision, not some elusive 'charm'! A person's 'self-will'? That's nothing more than an inevitable product of heredity and environmental influence!
"Given enough scientific knowledge, we can fully predict and explain it!"

Maupassant tried to argue: "But, Émile..."

Zola interrupted him: "There are no buts!"

His gaze shifted to Lionel: "Leon, what about you? You should be able to understand the value of my theory!"
Your novel, "Old Man Milon," perfectly illustrates how the environment shapes a character's personality and behavior!
Wasn't that old farmer's revenge simply an inevitable reaction based on the specific circumstances of his land being seized and his family being murdered?

In an instant, all eyes were on Lionel.

Lionel slowly put down the manuscript and looked up.

He knew that Zola was looking for support, for the collective response that should have been given when the leader of the "Métan Group" raised his voice.

But he also knew that "naturalism" had embarked on an increasingly narrow path after this lecture.

Maupassant and others drifted further and further away from Zola due to ideological differences, and the "Médan Group" disintegrated in the mid-1880s.

Lionel looked at the spirited, forty-year-old Zola before him, then at the other young men who were only a few years older than him…

Suddenly, the poem "Lament for the South" came to mind: "I watched him build his magnificent mansion, I watched him host lavish banquets, I watched his mansion crumble!"

Lionel took a deep breath and said calmly, “Emile, I must first pay tribute to your ambition and efforts.”

Introducing the spirit of science into the field of literature to more profoundly reflect and analyze society is undoubtedly a great and extremely valuable endeavor.

A satisfied smile appeared on Zola's face.

However, Lionel immediately changed the subject: "But please forgive my frankness, I think there are several fundamental problems with your 'Theory of Experimental Novel' that are open to discussion."

Zola's smile froze. The atmosphere in the room suddenly became tense.

(End of this chapter)