Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 248 Emil Perrin's Ambition
Time flows like the Seine, and before we knew it, it was the end of March. At this time, spring was in full bloom in Paris, and the city was beginning to recover.

For Lionel, these days were very peaceful. Apart from the successful passage of Count Rohan's "publication of teaching materials", he was only occasionally happy to see news about "The Choir" in the newspaper.

The French Comédie-Française's touring troupe not only achieved remarkable success in Lyon, but also received enthusiastic welcomes in Bordeaux, Marseille, Toulouse, and other cities.

Prior to this, although Lionel had made a name for himself in the Parisian literary scene with several novels, his fame was largely confined to Paris and among some provincial intellectuals who paid attention to literary developments.

However, the dramatic form of "The Choir" and the nationwide emotional resonance it evoked far surpassed the reach and impact of the novel.

Now, whether it's at the entrance of a silk workshop in Lyon, by the fishing port in Marseille, in a vineyard in Bordeaux, or on a university campus in Toulouse...

People are talking about "The Choir," and inevitably, they're also talking about its creator.

"I heard that Mr. Sorel, who wrote 'The Choir,' is very young!"

"He seems to be a student at the Sorbonne? What a genius!"

"He also wrote 'My Uncle Jules' and 'Old Man Milon,' which I've read; they're really well-written!"

"He also wrote 'Letter from an Unknown Woman'? God, that story breaks my heart..."

"I heard he came from a humble background, which is why he was able to write a character like Matthew, right?"

……

Several pieces from "The Choir"—"Night," "Looking Back," and "The Kite"—began to circulate throughout France following the play's immense popularity.

The script for "The Choir" was finally published by Charpentier's Bookshelf amidst much anticipation, and the first edition sold 5000 copies.

The Parisian theater critics have given this play an even higher artistic evaluation.

Jules Claretti, the theater critic for Le Figaro, completely put aside his previous grievances and praised the breakthrough and innovation of The Chorus.

After reading the script, he keenly realized that Lionel had abandoned some of the bad paradigms of past dramas in *The Chorus*.

The lengthy internal monologues, the occasional chorus performances, the formulaic moralizing, and the heavy reliance on coincidences to advance the plot...

The plot of "The Choir" never stops; every character and every plot is constantly flowing, and every twist and turn is fully foreshadowed.

The climax is like a rapid current hitting a reef, with water splashing high and refracting into a rainbow in the sunlight.

"The Choir" is not an opera, yet it is permeated with the power of music; "The Choir" is not a serious drama, yet it allows the audience to understand the true meaning while laughing.

Jules Claretti asserted in his review—

Although it is unknown where or from whom Lionel Sorel drew inspiration, there is no doubt that "The Choir" raised "light comedy" and "comic opera" to a new level.

After Jacques Offenbach, France may be about to welcome a younger, more outstanding theatrical master—oh, this time, he's a true Frenchman!

Lionel was stunned by this comment.

Jules Claretti's assessment of the rhythm of "The Choir" was not surprising to him.

This play was originally derived from a later film, and he also discarded many of the inherent problems of contemporary drama when writing the script.

But comparing himself to Jacques Offenbach... isn't Claretti just being a bit crazy?

Jacques Offenbach was a German who came to Paris with his father at the age of 14 and later became the founder of French operetta.

His operettas, "Orfeo in Hell" and "La Belle Helen," are still frequently performed in major theaters across France.

The key person, the old man, isn't dead yet... Lionel felt that Jules Claretti still had some issues with him.

However, the continuous touring also brought Lionel exceptionally rich rewards—

In less than two months, 8000 francs were deposited into his bank account, more than his earnings from novel royalties.

Émile Perrin, the director of the Comédie-Française, even wrote to Lionel, hoping that he would consider adapting all his novels into plays—"The Old Guard," "My Uncle Jules," and "Hometown" were all very suitable for adaptation into three-act folk plays;

"Letter from an Unknown Woman" is undoubtedly an outstanding five-act naturalistic play.
"Old Man Milon" was even more incredible. He couldn't even imagine how popular it would be after the story of an old farmer in the countryside angrily killing Prussian devils was staged.

As for "The Curious Cases of Benjamin Bouton," although there are some minor technical difficulties, it is the novel with the best chance of being adapted into a historical drama.

Lionel's screenwriting ability gave Émile Perrin boundless imagination, as he wrote at the end of the letter:

[Léon, you should become a full-time playwright like Alexandre Dumas fils; this will ensure your name is forever etched in French history!]

However, Lionel did not accept Emil Perrin's tempting offer.

For him, the current theatrical stage and forms of expression are still too limited, unlike the freedom of novels.

Moreover, in this era, the spread of drama was far slower than that of novels, and it wasn't until cinemas became widespread that the genre was disseminated.

Now, his most important task is to let readers in France and Britain see the ending of "The Curious Cases of Benjamin Buton".

The novel, which has been serialized in Le Petit Parisien and Modern Life for nearly a year, is finally coming to an end.

In mid-April 1880, devoted readers of Benjamin's Curious Cases of Bouton finally witnessed the scene they had been waiting for.

Having experienced glory, love, betrayal, confusion, and setbacks, Benjamin Boudon and Daphne Villeneuve finally met in the "middle age" of their lives.

At this time, Benjamin was tall and handsome, exuding the charm of a mature man; Daphne, on the other hand, had shed her youthful naiveté and displayed the allure of a mature woman.

Although they had both fallen in love with others before and even experienced several absurd lives, when they met at the crossroads of their lives, they found that a burning flame still burned in each other's eyes.

This flame, however, will no longer burn each other, but will bring a warm feeling like sunshine.

Daphne Villeneuve is no longer the light-hearted girl dreaming of the opera stage; time has fairly left its mark on her: fine lines have appeared at the corners of her eyes, but her demeanor has gained a sense of calm and composure.

She pushed open the door and immediately saw a figure on the stairs that was both familiar and unfamiliar.

Time seemed to stand still. The whistles of the Seine and the cries of newsboys on the street faded into distant background noise.

"Benjamin?"

"Daphne".

There were no gasps, no excited running. Just a long, locked gaze, as if trying to pierce through the years that had passed, to confirm whether the shape of the other's soul remained unchanged.

They saw themselves reflected in each other's eyes, and they also saw the unseen medals and scars on each other's bodies:

His voyages and loneliness, her struggles and disappointments; the foreign woman he loved and lost, the ordinary man she loved and left...

……

“Sleep with me,” Daphne said.

“Of course…” Benjamin replied.

……

"I'm glad I wasn't 26 when I was with you."

"How do you say this?"

“I was too young then, and you were too old—this is the most natural way now.”

"I will cherish every minute and second I spend with you..."

...]

Upon reading this, readers—especially female readers—will be completely melted!
(End of this chapter)