Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 328 The Crisis of the French Republic!
Lionel's voice was filled with worry: "Emile, Alphonse, Guy... don't you think France is already in crisis?"

This way of elevating someone to a pedestal and expressing love through such a grand and uniform ceremony... makes me feel somewhat uneasy.

This is not a celebration of literature, but the establishment of a new secular faith. Does France need another form of worship?

And the object of this worship is not even a 'son of God' or some abstract concept, but a concrete person.

Zola nodded: "I understand your concerns, Lionel. Sincerity and fanaticism are sometimes separated by a fine line. The Republic is too young and too fragile."

It was eager to find any symbol that could unite people's hearts. Mr. Hugo was undoubtedly the most suitable candidate. But..."

He turned his gaze back to the surging crowd below: "When worship becomes a national act, when reverence is organized into a performance of this scale, it is indeed something to be wary of."

I fear that this fanaticism will eventually devour some of what it initially sought to defend.

Daudet also spoke up: "Mr. Hugo... I remember when he had just returned to Paris from Guernsey, he thought the parliament would authorize him to be a 'dictator'."

He was even prepared to accept the position. Of course, in the end, it didn't happen..."

Everyone fell silent, remembering the incident, and the air in the room grew heavy.

They stood there, gazing for a long time at the grand "canonization" ceremony outside the window, watching the surging crowds...

A sense of historical destiny lingers in everyone's heart.

The ocean of cheers, songs, and footsteps outside the window still surged and roared, as if it were about to engulf everything.

Lionel took one last look at the "spiritual monarch" worshipped by countless people in the opposite window, then turned and left the window.

------

In mid-March 1881, the weather in Paris had already warmed up.

But the Comédie-Française has entered a sweltering "summer" ahead of schedule.

The performance hall is no longer as solemn and magnificent as it once was; it is more like the dissected abdomen of a giant.

The stage's wooden floorboards were mostly pried open, revealing the dark space underneath, where workers were replacing the oak supports with cast iron ones.

They chanted slogans as they adjusted the massive wooden beams and iron frames with crowbars and ropes, the heavy sounds of hammering, sawing, and clashing metal filling the air.

On the walls, where the walls were originally covered with gorgeous paintings, neat grooves have been carved out, exposing newly laid electrical wires that look like nerves.

The air was filled with the smells of sawdust, paint, and insulating rubber.

Nikola Tesla, dressed in overalls, is standing on scaffolding with several engineers, engaged in a heated discussion over spread-out blueprints.

He would sometimes point to the spot reserved for the arc lamp high up, and sometimes squat down to observe the direction of the cable, his expression focused.

Occasionally, he gets a moment of quiet to do calculations; but more often, he has to raise his voice to drown out the incessant construction noise in the background.

The renovation project is a race against time; they must be completed by mid-April to allow time for full rehearsals.

The rehearsal hall, separated from this chaos by only one wall, had its windows tightly closed and heavy curtains drawn, filtering out some of the noise and distractions.

The air in the hall was somewhat stuffy. Lionel sat in a hard-backed chair, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees.

Dean Emil Perrin sat beside him, his chubby fingers nervously twisting together, a fine layer of sweat beading on his forehead.

In front of them was a cleared area, which served as a stage.

Several actors are performing a crucial scene from "Thunderstorm"—the unexpected reunion of "Zhou Puyuan" and "Lu Shiping" at "Zhou Mansion" after many years of separation.

However, these two characters are now called "Charles de La Verne" and "Madeleine" respectively.

The role of Madeleine is played by Madame Berthe, a veteran actress from the Comédie-Française of France. She is known for portraying tragic women, and her performances are restrained yet powerful.

When she stood before the actor playing "Ravelne," she conveyed immense shock and unspeakable pain through mere physical movement. [Madeleine's voice was hoarse, struggling to suppress her surging emotions: "I was once a servant who served the master!"]

The actor playing "Charles de La Verne" is the experienced François Gautier-Luzard.

He had previously played the role of "Dean Lazi" in "The Choir".

In "Thunderstorm," he perfectly captured the image of a capitalist who considers himself respectable but is actually cold and hypocritical.

He first gave a condescending, scrutinizing look, then a hint of confusion flashed across his face, followed by a sting from someone deep in his memory, causing his brows to furrow slightly.

His eyes held a mixture of surprise, panic, and wariness.

Laverne slowly stood up, her voice trembling: "Oh, Madeleine! How, how is it you?"

Madeleine's tone became sarcastic: "You would never imagine that one day I would grow so old that you wouldn't even recognize me."

Laverne exclaimed incredulously, "You—Madeleine?"

He glanced unconsciously at the photos on the counter, then at the woman opposite him.

Madeleine's voice suddenly became somewhat ethereal: "Charles, are you looking for Madeleine? Madeleine is right here."

Laverne suddenly became stern: "What are you doing here?"

Madeleine's voice also became panicked: "I didn't want to come!"

Laverne didn't believe it: "Who sent you? Those councilors?"

Madeleine was filled with grief and indignation: "Fate! Unfair fate has sent me here!"

...]

Just when the atmosphere was at its most tense—

"Bang!"

A loud thud of metal hitting the ground came from next door, followed by hurried shouts and hurried footsteps from the workers.

Everyone in the rehearsal hall was startled by the sudden noise.

The actress playing "Madeleine" was interrupted from her carefully prepared emotions; the tears that had been welling up in her eyes seemed to be jolted back, and her body stiffened for a moment.

The actor playing "Ravelne" glanced instinctively in the direction of the noise, and the performance stalled.

Dean Emil Perrin closed his eyes in pain, almost groaning out loud.

However, both actors are professionals after all.

After a pause of only a second or two, Madeleine refocused on her co-star and slowly delivered her interrupted grief and accusation.

La Verne quickly adjusted his demeanor, making the feigned panic even more believable.

Lionel remained motionless throughout, without even a significant change in posture.

His gaze pierced through the dim light in the rehearsal hall, fixing firmly on the actors, as if the surrounding noise were merely insignificant background noise.

Finally, the rehearsal came to an end.

The actors stopped moving, slightly out of breath, and their gazes all turned to Lionel and Dean Perrin, awaiting their judgment.

For a moment, only the faint sounds of construction coming from next door could be heard in the hall.

(End of this chapter)