Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 366 "Hanging Hugo!"

To the military cadets in Paris, Lionel, who opposed the colonial wars, was their most direct enemy.

Several muffled thuds were heard as several fist-sized stones were hurled at the windows of the second-floor Lionel apartment.

One piece hit the window frame with a loud thud; another struck the glass, and with a crash, shards of glass scattered across the floor like hail.

The lights in the apartment remained off, and no one peeked out to check.

Only the broken window, like a dark, gaping eye, silently watched the group of frenzied young people below.

The nearby residents were alarmed; some opened their windows to shout at the commotion, while others quickly closed their windows.

The patrolling police ran over, and the students, laughing and cursing, quickly disappeared into the depths of the alley shrouded in night.

When Sophie saw shards of glass scattered all over the floor and dents in the window frame the next morning, her face turned pale instantly, gripped by fear and immense confusion.

Just a month ago, Lionel was the most popular darling of the Parisian salons.

He was a rising literary star, eagerly reported by the media; he was a supporter of educational reform; he was the author of the sensational play "Thunderstorm"...

His apartment building used to be bustling with cars and visitors.

How did he suddenly become a "traitor," a "coward," and even have people throwing stones at him and threatening to take him to court?

What struck her as even more bizarre was that despite the raging attacks against Lionel, performances of "Thunderstorm" at the Comédie-Française were still packed to capacity.

Even in the sweltering heat of July, when the theater felt like a sauna, nothing could dampen the audience's enthusiasm.

Long queues formed at the ticket windows, and prices were being driven up on the black market.

Meanwhile, sales of Lionel's other works not only did not decline, but actually increased, attracting more curious readers.

This sharp contradiction left Sophie feeling lost, as if she were living in two separate, parallel worlds.

Back at the villa in Vernef, Sophie spoke her mind: "I don't understand, Leon, what's going on?"

Why do people criticize you while simultaneously rushing to see your plays and buy your books?

Here, the trees provide ample shade, and a gentle breeze blows from the river, carrying the coolness of the water vapor—it feels like a completely different world from the hustle and bustle of Paris.

Lionel didn't show any surprise after hearing this. He patted Sophie's hand to comfort her, and then poured chilled lemonade into everyone's cup.

His tone was as calm as if he were discussing the weather: "This is France, Sophie. This is Paris."

Political differences and artistic consensus can coexist perfectly well here!

He paused, noticing the still furrowed brows of the group, and knew they needed a more concrete example to understand this absurdity.

Lionel smiled slightly: "You think my experience is too dramatic, too unreal, like a fictional novel plot?"

Now, let's recall the fate of Mr. Victor Hugo—in 1870, he returned to France as a hero.

Sophie, do you remember the grandeur of Paris back then?

Sophie nodded with a bewildered expression: "Of course I remember, my father took me to greet Mr. Hugo."

I remember people gathering at the train stations, from Paris to Lyon, every station along the way was packed with people welcoming him, and the cheers were deafening.

Upon entering Paris, his carriage moved slowly through the streets, with flowers raining down upon him.

People wept with excitement, calling out his name as if welcoming a triumphant king.

Sophie's words brought everyone's thoughts back to that fervent autumn more than ten years ago.

Lionel picked up where he left off, continuing, "Mr. Hugo at the time believed he would be given unlimited power, becoming a 'dictator.' He even wrote in his notebook, 'Dictatorship is a crime, and I have committed it.'"

However, Mr. Hugo was disappointed—not only did he fail to become a 'dictator,' he even lost the subsequent National Assembly elections and did not even become a member of parliament.

Paris treated him like a hero, but gave him no real power.

Alice and Petty were hearing this history for the first time, and they stared in astonishment.

Lionel smiled slightly: "And that's not the most dramatic part. Just one year later, in 1871, the Paris Commune failed, and Blood Week ended."

The government brutally suppressed, exiled, and executed members of the commune. At this time, Mr. Hugo condemned the government in the Belgian newspaper *The Independent*.

He spoke out for them, calling for forgiveness, pardon, and asylum for exiles. And what was the result? Overnight, the hero became a 'villain'—

One evening, about fifty thugs calling themselves 'patriots' gathered outside Hugo's residence in Brussels. They pounded on the door and shouted...
—'Kill Hugo! Hang Hugo! Kill this villain!' The French embassy in Brussels also hinted that he would be arrested upon returning home.

Mr. Hugo was forced to begin another period of exile, taking his family to Luxembourg, though it lasted only four months.

Even Sophie was shocked; she had no idea that the famous Victor Hugo had ever experienced such an absurd thing.

Both the imperial government and the republican government had tried to imprison this literary giant, or even send him to the gallows.

Lionel shrugged. "Think about it, that's 'Victor Hugo'! The author of Les Misérables!"
Just a year ago, he was welcomed by huge crowds in France. But only a year later, someone wanted to hang him.

Didn't those thugs who tried to break into his house throw flowers at him a year ago while crowding around him?
Didn't they all shed tears of joy at his return? The emotions and stances of the people of Paris are fluid, even contradictory.

For them, political alignment and artistic appreciation can be two completely separate things.

Lionel looked at the enlightened Sophie and said gently, "So, don't be confused, this is reality!"

People can call me a 'traitor' while simultaneously buying several tickets to "Thunderstorm" to take their whole family to see it.

You can also burn "My Uncle Jules" while enjoying reading "The Sign of Four" at the dining table.

At least for now, they just want to put me in court, not hang me.

The room fell silent, save for the chirping of cicadas outside the window and the faint sound of ship horns drifting from the Seine.

Sophie's inner turmoil seemed to dissipate somewhat, and she began to understand a certain absurd logic of this land.

Lionel picked up his glass, took a sip of the chilled lemonade, and gazed out the window at the shimmering river.

Sophie walked to his side and asked, "So, are you going to stay silent?"

Lionel shook his head: "Not only will I remain silent, but I have also told Emile and Guy to remain silent as well."

If we retaliate now, the only ones who will truly suffer are the children who burned the books—after all, the children are innocent.

Should I rebuke the children for their blind obedience, or incite them to rebel? Some people are probably just waiting for me to speak!

That's what makes those fools so hateful—they shouldn't have dragged the children into this farce.

Alice stood beside Lionel, her voice still filled with worry: "So, when will this farce end?"

Lionel pondered for a moment: "It shouldn't be too long... Hmm, let's talk about the sales of typewriters and bicycles instead."

I have an idea: we could organize competitions for them, not small-scale ones, but large-scale ones…”

　In Brussels, Hugo announced the opening of asylum to the Commune members. Then came a mob attack on Hugo's residence, a despicable performance of "One Night in Brussels," followed by the Belgian government's expulsion order: "Mr. Victor Hugo, writer, 69 years old, must leave this kingdom immediately and will never re-enter." Hugo dared not return home; the situation made arrest highly likely. He went to the French representative office in Brussels to apply for a passport, but received the implication that he would be arrested upon return. After 19 years of exile, he was now practically a pariah! If Luxembourg was equally timid, Hugo was prepared to seek refuge in Switzerland. "I have four thousand one hundred and eighty francs with me."

　　
　
(End of this chapter)