Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 245 This is Henri Poincaré! (Bonus Chapter 1)

In the first few days after purchasing the typewriter and bicycle, Lionel fell into a near-obsessive state.

He placed the typewriter in the best spot by the window in his study, where sunlight shone on the black metal body, giving it a cold, sharp sheen.

He would sit in front of the keyboard whenever he had a spare moment, his fingers flying across the round keycaps.

At first, his unfamiliarity and mechanical sluggishness caused him to make frequent mistakes, but soon, his typing speed improved with astonishing efficiency.

The rhythm of "click-click-ding!" has become the new background sound in the apartment at 117 St. Germain Street.

He attempted to type the final few pages of Benjamin's "The Curious Cases of Bouton" directly—

When ideas are flowing freely, the words typed out do indeed solidify on paper much faster than those written with a quill pen dipped in ink.

However, feelings of frustration followed.

Errors caused by not being able to see the output results in real time, the tediousness of frequently turning the roller to modify a single word, the awkwardness of lacking special French characters...

They were like tiny thorns, constantly reminding him that this was still a primitive and clumsy tool.

He was used to the digital world where the keyboard and screen were seamlessly connected.

This discrepancy quickly cooled his initial excitement, and a desire to change it began to burn within him.

The same goes for bicycles. He kept his Rover Safety model spotless and parked it in the foyer, where Alice and Patty would often gather around to look at it with curiosity.

But the streets of Paris, even the relatively smooth Boulevard Haussmann, still posed a considerable challenge for this bicycle with solid rubber tires.

Lionel rode it through the streets, feeling the freedom of the wind rushing past his ears. It was indeed much faster than walking and much freer than a horse-drawn carriage.

But every bump was clearly transmitted through the hard seat, every brake required anticipation, the chain drive was sometimes clunky, not to mention the ergonomics that were far from comfortable.

Every time he returned, Lionel would go back to his bedroom and rub his numb buttocks.

They crave the cushioning of pneumatic tires, a lighter and stronger frame, a responsive and reliable braking system, and smooth bearings...

He always imagined bicycles from later generations, but all he could see in front of him was this bulky, industrial prototype.

This growing dissatisfaction with "outdated" tools even temporarily overshadowed his enthusiasm for finishing "The Curious Cases of Benjamin Buton," and a restlessness typical of engineers churned within him.

Lionel could not stand these "primitive" inventions; he was eager to push them closer to the way he remembered them.

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A few days later, Lionel returned to the Sorbonne University Faculty of Science building and found the "physics laboratory".

Pierre Curie was carefully recording a set of data when he saw Lionel and pushed up his glasses: "Lionel? Do you want some special chemical this time?"
Or has he come up with some new idea to change the color of the flames?

He made a small joke, clearly impressed by their previous collaboration.

Lionel cut to the chase: "No, this time it's not chemicals, Pierre. I need an engineer, or a scientist like you who understands both theory and practice."

I need someone to help me improve some things, some... tools that can increase efficiency.

Pierre Curie put down his pen, somewhat surprised: "Improved tools? I remember you're a writer, Lionel. Does literary creation now require such, um, hardware support?"

Lionel smiled and said, half-jokingly, "Inspiration is fleeting, Pierre! And clumsy tools will kill it! I crave more fluent expression and easier movement."

"Of course, as for the fees, I will do as I did last time, and I will never let the person who helped me go to waste." Pierre Curie thought for a moment and decided to agree, not only because Lionel paid so readily, but also because he thought he was an interesting person.

He and Lionel had coffee a few times since their last collaboration, and he was quite impressed by the writer's interest in and "expertise" in science.

Lionel always had some whimsical ideas, which sometimes sounded absurd, but were often able to make sense in their own way.

Pierre Curie pondered: "Engineers...most of the people I know are focused on theory or large-scale engineering, but perhaps there is one candidate."

He has just completed his doctoral dissertation and is a rare genius in mathematics and physics, with a keen understanding of mechanics.

He will soon be taking a position in the Public Works Department, and the Sorbonne is also trying to recruit him as a professor. He happens to have some free time right now.

I think he might be interested in your unconventional project…

Lionel stepped forward and shook Pierre Curie's hand: "I hope to see him as soon as possible, Pierre, as soon as possible!"

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A few days later, Lionel went to the "Procop" café near the Sorbonne.

On a warm winter afternoon, Pierre Curie was already seated in a corner by the window. When he saw Lionel, he smiled.

Sitting next to him was a young man wearing a thick woolen overcoat and a scarf, who looked a few years older than Curie and had a full forehead.

Lionel hurried over: "Pierre! I'm sorry I'm late!"

Pierre Curie immediately stood up: "Léon! You've come at the perfect time."

He turned to the young man beside him: "Please allow me to introduce you to this friend, Jules Henry Poincaré! A brilliant mathematician, physicist, and engineer."

Ha, he even knows a bit about literature; he can write poetry and prose!

(Henri Poincaré was admitted to the French Academy as an essayist...)
Then he said to Poincaré, “Henry, this is Mr. Lionel Sorel, the great writer, author of The Old Guard and The Choir.”

When Lionel heard the name "Jules Henri Poincaré," he nearly knocked over his coffee and could only cover his shock with a series of coughs.

Henri Poincaré! The last great polymath in mathematics, one of the founders of topology, a pioneer of relativity, and the proposer of the Poincaré conjecture! A true scientific giant whose name will be etched in history!
He actually appeared before me at this time, in this way! And he was the engineer Pierre Curie introduced as someone who "earns extra money"?
Poincaré asked with some concern, "Mr. Sorel, are you alright?"

Lionel finally calmed down: "N-nothing... It's just that, Mr. Poincaré... I didn't expect Pierre to have invited you."

You really are so hard to guess..."

Henri Poincaré, of course, could not "guess" why Lionel would lose his composure like this, and could only attribute it to his sensitivity and neuroticism towards the writer.

But he still held Lionel's hand tightly: "Mr. Sorel, I am your fan! 'The Old Guard,' 'Hometown,' 'My Uncle Jules,' 'Old Man Milon'..."

And I've been reading "The Curious Cases of Benjamin Bouton" ever since! I even saw "The Choir" twice!

Thank you for everything you've done for French children! You are my role model and the pride of the Sorbonne!

Lionel remarked, "But for humanity, you and Pierre are the real big shots!"

(Fifth update, a little later)
　Henri Poincaré never gave up his identity as an engineer, becoming the chief engineer of the Mining Corps in 1893 and the director in 1910.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)