Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 311, "A Study in Scarlet," has come to an end.

It can be said that "A Doll's House" not only revolutionized the form of drama, but also violently impacted the cornerstone of society—the family structure.

Sophie remained silent for a long time, her hand still tightly holding Lionel's.

Her azure eyes held emotion, resonance, confusion, and worry.

Sophie's voice was low, almost as if she were talking to herself: "She...is really gone."

Lionel squeezed her hand: "Yes, she's gone. But the question remains—what happened to Nora after she left?"

His gaze returned to the now-closed curtain, as if he could see the endless ripples that the resounding slam of the door would create over the next few decades, even centuries.

In 1935, a craze for staging "A Doll's House" swept across China, with thousands of performances throughout the country, a period known as the "Nora Year".

"A Doll's House" also completely subverted the traditional dramas currently popular in Europe, whether they were serious dramas, comedies, light operas, or light comedies, from a technical point of view.

Classical dramas often end in reconciliation or destruction, leaving the audience with a sense of calm or compassion after catharsis.

The ending of "A Doll's House," however, is a huge question mark, and another beginning.

It throws the problems back at society, back at every viewer, forcing everyone who sees it to start thinking—

This is one of the signs that the art form of drama has moved from the classical to the modern.

Of course, its sets, built entirely according to reality, and its storyline, which is almost perfectly aligned with reality, all contribute to its novelty.

Even Lionel's own "The Chorus" still uses a lot of music and can be classified as "opera" to some extent.

On the way back to the apartment on Boulevard Saint-Germain, the carriage was silent.

Sophie leaned against the window, gazing at the fleeting Parisian nightscape outside, clearly still immersed in the impact of "A Doll's House".

Lionel didn't disturb her; his mind was racing.

Émile Perrin's plea still echoed in our ears—the Comedy Theatre needed a new play that could rival "A Doll's House"!

But how difficult it is!

The success of "A Doll's House" lies not only in its artistic breakthroughs, but also in its ability to touch the most sensitive social nerves of our time.

Changes in family relationships and the awakening of women's consciousness.

It would be foolish to simply imitate or repeat Ibsen's themes, but it would be equally unwise to avoid this wave that swept across European intellectual circles.

Since "A Doll's House" reveals the inequality and oppression within a traditional family, in Lionel's mind, there is only one play that can rival it.

Sophie's voice suddenly rang in Lionel's ear: "What are you thinking about?"

Lionel paused for a moment, then smiled and replied, "I was thinking, electric lights..."

Sophie was startled: "The kind of light bulb that exploded at the Louvre last year?"

Lionel nodded: "Yes, I'd like to install a few in the new house and see how they look."

------

London, December 31, 1880.

A thick, yellow haze, as thick as porridge, clung tightly to the city.

Despite it being the last day of the year, the weather showed little mercy, instead becoming even colder and more biting.

However, this did not stop loyal readers of "Good Words" magazine from gathering early at newsstands scattered throughout the city.

Their breaths condensed into white mist in the cold air, their faces displaying a complex mix of anticipation and reluctance.

Today is the final installment of the serialized "A Study in Scarlet".

The consulting detective who had occupied their thoughts and sparked countless discussions since July was about to come to an end.

The line snaked all the way to the street corner in front of Mr. Hawkins' newsstand.

Regular customer George Wilson rubbed his frozen hands and exclaimed to the owner, "It's hard to believe that today is the end of the day."

Mr. Hawkins deftly took the money and handed over the magazine, replying without looking up, "Yes, Mr. George. But Good Words will always give us something new, just wait and see."

George received the magazine, still smelling of fresh ink, and eagerly flipped through it, finding himself right at the beginning of the final chapter of "A Study in Scarlet."

The surrounding crowd quickly quieted down, craning their necks to look at the magazine in his hand.

Jefferson Hope, a man whose life had been consumed by the flames of revenge, lay on a simple bed in the temporary detention cell at Scotland Yard, his face ashen and his breath as faint as a candle flickering in the wind.

His eyes, which had once traversed deserts and tracked down enemies, had lost all their luster; he simply stared blankly at the mottled ceiling.

Holmes stood by the bed, his expression grave.

Hope's voice was hoarse: "The hemangioma...it's been...following me...from Salt Lake City...to London...and now, it can't wait any longer..."

He recounted, in fits and starts, the tragedy that took place in the far west of America—his pure love with Lucy Ferrier, how Enoch Tripper and Joseph Stanjasson, with the encouragement of the "prophet," cruelly murdered Lucy's father, ultimately leading to Lucy's heartbreak and death.

His narration was fragmented, yet heartbreaking.

Dark red blood began to seep from the corner of Hope's mouth: "I... tracked them down... for so many years... revenge... is sweet... and bitter..."

Holmes listened in silence until Hope's narration came to a complete halt, leaving only labored breathing.

He spoke slowly, his voice calm: "Hatred drove you, Mr. Hope, and it destroyed you."

You sacrificed your entire life to souls already tainted by sin.

Hope seemed to want to say something, but his eyes suddenly widened, his body convulsed violently, and then he went limp, and all fell silent.

That heart, which had endured so much suffering and was filled with obsession, finally stopped beating after the revenge was completed.

I went up to check his pupils and felt his pulse, confirming his death: "February 10, 1880, 3:52 p.m.

Holmes turned around and said briefly to Grayson and Lestrade, who had been waiting outside the door, "It's over. The rest is up to you."

Lestrade seemed relieved, yet also somewhat resentful.

Glenson then tried to regain some control: "Very well, Mr. Holmes, thank you for your... assistance. Scotland Yard will handle the rest."

Holmes ignored him, simply walked out the door, and left.

……

In the living room of 221B Baker Street, Holmes sat by the fireplace and said to me, “I have never had a case more interesting than this one.”

Look at this city, Watson, millions of people struggle, love, hate, commit crimes, and die within it. Behind every case lies nothing more than greed, fear, and passion…

Of course, there are also souls like Hope, driven by the ghosts of the past. Our job is to salvage a few pitiful fragments of truth from the fog.

The outcome of the case was revealed to all readers a few days later through a report in Les Echos.

The report, delivered in a typical official tone, detailed the "investigation process" of this "Laureston Garden Street mystery."

The article lavishly praises Scotland Yard, especially Detectives Lestrade and Gretchen, for their "keen insight" and "relentless efforts," stating that they "through rigorous investigation and professional tracking" ultimately clarified this tragedy caused by "internal strife within an American religious group."

The report only briefly mentioned at the end: "It is understood that during the investigation, the police also consulted some members of the public and obtained some supplementary clues."

George Wilson roared from his workstation, “My God! How could they—!”

His colleagues were equally indignant.

"That's utter nonsense! Without Holmes, they wouldn't even be able to catch a glimpse of the murderer!"

"'Supporting clues'? These bureaucrats! They stole all the credit!"

……

Anger was quickly replaced by a larger emotion—loss.

As the last line was read, a strange sense of emptiness began to spread in the hearts of all readers…

(End of this chapter)