Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 237 Necessary Sacrifice

As dusk fell over Paris, it cast long shadows of Ferdinand Bison and his visitors through the tall windows of the living room of his private residence.

The fire crackled in the fireplace, but it couldn't dispel the increasingly heavy chill in the room.

Ferdinand Bisson, the chief editor of the new public school textbooks, was standing with his back to the fireplace, his face flushed with excitement.

He clutched a copy of the Lyon Progress newspaper tightly in his hand; the front page prominently featured the following headline:
"The Choir" Shocks Lyon – Art Becomes the Most Powerful Weapon for Secularizing Education

“Charles, look! Take a good look! ‘The most powerful work of art to promote the secularization of education!’ That’s the evaluation from Lyon!”
This isn't just self-praise from our Paris salons! Do you still think Lionel Sorel is just a 'suddenly famous', insignificant young man?

Ferdinand Bisson pushed the newspaper toward Charles de Blanchard, the chief inspector of the primary schools.

Charles de Blasio didn't pick up the newspaper; he simply leaned back lazily in his comfortable leather armchair, a mocking smile playing on his lips.

He spoke slowly: “My dear Ferdinand, relax. There’s no need to lose your composure over an overpraise from a provincial newspaper.”

Parisian newspapers, which were fighting tooth and nail over Sarah Bernhardt's affair yesterday, are today hailing her as the jewel of France.

Public opinion has always been so cheap and fickle.

Ferdinand Bison walked around the coffee table, almost standing in front of de Blanch: "This is not just public opinion! This is influence! This is real public opinion!"
The success of "The Chorus" at the Comédie-Française is undeniable; it has led thousands of citizens to understand and even support the separation of education from the authority of the church!
The power of art is sometimes more effective than ten speeches in parliament!

Charles de Blanchard finally sat up a little straighter: "Perhaps. Art always has its own insignificant power to move people..."

"But Ferdinand, did you call me here specifically for that young man named Sorel?"

Ferdinand Bison took a deep breath and stared into the other man's eyes: "I've received some rumors, Charles, very bad rumors."

Regarding the farce of 'three essays being selected for the French Reader', someone told me that it was 'Behring' and 'Hachette' who were behind it!
Moreover, they received certain 'hints' and 'tacit approval'...

A brief silence fell over the living room, with only the sound of the fireplace flames remaining distinct.

Charles de Blasio suddenly laughed, then spread his hands, looking innocent and aggrieved: "Ferdinand, my dear friend, your words really hurt me."

We have worked together for many years, devoting ourselves to the education cause of the Republic. How could you believe such unfounded speculation?

'Behring' and 'Hachette' are commercial entities, and their actions naturally have their own business logic.

How could I, a public official, possibly 'order' them around?

Ferdinand Bison was not fooled and continued to press: "Business logic? Their business logic is to destroy a brilliant writer who supports our cause in principle, just to clear obstacles?"
Charles, don't take me for a fool! "Two Children's Trip to France" is 'Behring's' cash cow; they're counting on it to monopolize the textbook market for decades to come!
And some committee members used Lionel as a pretext, threatening the plan, didn't they?

Charles de Blasio's smile gradually cooled. He stopped denying and pretending, his tone almost indifferent: "Ferdinand, you're too idealistic."

Reform is not a dinner party, nor is it a salon discussion. It is a war, requiring resources, ammunition, and allies.

'Behring' and 'Hachette' can provide us with many of the things we need—a vast distribution network, mature printing capabilities, and... well... the necessary financial support.

What they wanted in return was simple: just to give their book, "Two Children's French Travels," which was indeed "in line with the spirit of the Republic," the status it deserved.

"This is a fair trade." Ferdinand Bison was heartbroken: "Trading a man's future and reputation? If this gets out, Charles! Think about the consequences!"
What will Lionel think of the Republic when he finds out? What will he think of Minister Ferry—oh, now he should be called Prime Minister—and the reforms he led?

This will bring shame upon us! Shame upon the Republic!

Charles de Blasio stood up nonchalantly, even casually straightening his suit.

He walked over to Ferdinand Bison and patted the idealist on the shoulder.

His voice turned low: "My dear Ferdinand, you always have words like 'honor' and 'ideal' on your lips."

This is invaluable, truly. But you must understand that what drives history forward is never just brilliant ideals, but also practical interests and necessary sacrifices.

As Charles de Blanch spoke, he walked to the window and looked out at the gradually brightening lights of Paris: "Lional Sorel."

He may be talented, he may be influential. But ultimately, he's just a writer, a tool. A useful tool should be used wisely.
If a tool might injure your hand or hinder a more important project, what's wrong with handling it carefully?
What the republic needs are obedient pens, not stabs that act independently.

He turned around, his expression almost one of profound compassion: "As for shame? Oh, Ferdinand, history is written by the victors."

Once we succeed, we will completely separate education from the church and establish a unified, secular republican school system.

Who will remember the one or two insignificant sacrifices in the process? People will only sing praises to Prime Minister Ferry, to our vision and courage.

Young people like Sorel emerge in Paris every year, but most of them are short-lived.

To risk offending our most important business ally and disrupting a long-planned scheme involving millions of francs in revenue for an uncertain 'genius'...

That's truly unwise, truly irresponsible!

He walked back to Bisson and said firmly, "Two Children's French Trip must be the core; that's the big picture."

Anyone who tries to obstruct the way must make way. If Lionel is sensible, he might still be able to secure a place in the margins of the book.

If he doesn't know what's good for him...

Charles de Blasio shrugged and said nothing more, just shrugged.

After a while, he concluded: "Personal gains and losses are as insignificant as dust in the face of the great cause of the nation. I hope you understand this principle."

We're not holding a literary salon; we're shaping the future of France!

After saying this, Charles de Blanch picked up his coat and hat from the back of his chair, nodded slightly, and prepared to take his leave.

Before leaving, Ferdinand Bison called him back: "Wait, does Prime Minister Ferry know about this? Or is it something he...?"

Charles de Blanch smiled and said, "Why would he care about such a trivial matter? Well, I hope the French Reader can be finalized as soon as possible."

You should probably put some pressure on Roon!

(End of this chapter)