Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 376 Karl: Do you want to go back for trial? (Bonus Chapter 5 for every 1000 votes)

Before we knew it, the conversation had lasted for nearly an hour.

Friedrich glanced at the sky outside the window, then suddenly remembered something and asked with a hint of teasing, "After saying all this, don't you actually want to see Karl more?"

Lionel was caught off guard, a hint of embarrassment flashing across his face, but he still nodded honestly: "Yes, Mr. Friedrich."

I truly have the utmost respect for him…

Friedrich burst into hearty laughter, his beard trembling with the sound: "Haha, actually, I guessed it the moment you glanced around when you walked in!"
"Young people, everyone wants to see Karl, that's understandable."

Lionel was somewhat embarrassed, but still asked frankly, "So... do I have that opportunity?"

Friedrich nodded, his smile amiable: "Of course, Karl is in London. It's just... he hasn't been in very good spirits lately."

Jenny fell seriously ill, and her condition was not optimistic. He had to take care of her every day, which was extremely tiring for him.

Just then, a noise came from the doorway of the house.

Friedrich glanced at the wall clock: "It should be him. He usually comes over around this time to sit for a while and clear his mind."

Sure enough, soon, a familiar yet unfamiliar figure of Lionel appeared at the living room door.

He looked older and more tired than Lionel had imagined, though his thick white hair and signature beard were still striking.

But now he has a gaunt face, sunken eyes, and a weathered appearance.

Friedrich rose to greet him: "Karl, you've arrived. Look, we have a young guest from Paris."

The old man named Carl turned to Lionel, his gaze gentle.

Lionel also stood up, and although he was a little nervous, he still greeted him: "Doctor, hello. I am Lionel Sorel."

Carl stepped forward, extended his hand to shake hands with Lionel, and said in a gentle tone, "Hello, Mr. Sorel."

In July of this year, Jenny and I went to France to visit Laura and Paul, and they took us to see your play "Thunderstorm".

Our whole family was deeply moved.

Friedrich quipped from the side, "Ha, you've all seen it, but I haven't! I'm stuck in London all day, facing countless manuscripts and letters..."

This joke eased the initial awkwardness of their first meeting, and the group sat down again.

Karl continued the previous topic: "In 'Thunderstorm,' I saw the inevitable destruction of the old family and the old morality."

That sense of repression, struggle, and eventual outburst has strong universal significance.

Lionel replied, “You flatter me, Doctor. In fact, this collapse of the old order is happening little by little in France and other European countries.”

Old ethical concepts, family structures, and social norms are all loosening and disintegrating under the impact of new economic relations and class forces.

I simply collected these scattered pieces of 'gunpowder' and put them into a box called 'Thunderstorm'.

Karl and Friedrich both showed expressions of appreciation upon hearing this analogy.

Carl nodded: "'Scattered gunpowder'? That's a vivid and accurate metaphor. It captures the universality and explosive power of change."

He then raised a more specific question: "Thunderstorm is, on the whole, a realistic drama with a very profound analysis of society."

But its ending seems to carry a strong sense of fatalism? Like those coincidences. Why did you choose this ending?

Lionel paused for a moment before answering: "I think it may stem from my feeling of insignificance and powerlessness in the face of a vast society."

Contradiction is the fundamental driving force of tragedy; it is 'inevitable'. But in the specific case of each individual, how tragedy unfolds is often intertwined with many coincidences. 'Inevitability' must pave its own way through 'chance'. This coincidence can sometimes give people the illusion of 'fate playing tricks on us'.

I want to preserve this complexity; I don't want the audience's experience of tragedy to be too simplistic when watching the play.

Karl listened attentively, nodded slowly, and did not immediately offer his opinion.

At this point, Friedrich brought up his conversation with Lionel earlier.

Karl looked at Lionel with interest: "So, Mr. Sorel, are you still planning to return to France to face that trial?"

Lionel took a deep breath and answered frankly, "Yes, I still believe I should go back to face trial, even knowing that I might face injustice or even exile."

But there is an important premise—I do not want to be merely a pawn in a political conspiracy, and my trial should not be to fulfill the ambitions of certain factions.

If my courage and perseverance ultimately only become fuel for others' power struggles, then they will be worthless.

I need to ensure this trial is a debate about my work and words, and not a political performance with a predetermined outcome.

Karl and Friedrich exchanged a glance and nodded slightly.

Carl said, "We agree with you. Not being used is a struggle in itself!"

The conversation continued for some time until the sky outside the window began to darken.

Lionel realized it was getting late and it wasn't wise to disturb them further.

Especially since Karl and Friedrich might have important matters to discuss, and Karl needed to go back to take care of his sick wife, he took the initiative to get up and say goodbye.

With a mix of excitement and reluctance, he shook hands with the two great men once more to say goodbye.

Friedrich saw him to the door and patted him on the shoulder: "Take care, young man. If you need anything, you can contact me through Paul."

Lionel thanked him deeply, then turned and stepped into the damp air of London.

Walking on unfamiliar streets, his heart was still surging with emotion, and the conversation with the two thinkers echoed repeatedly in his mind.

Every sentence and every question and answer had just filled him with excitement, making him almost forget everything around him.

In particular, the two important questions that Friedrich and Karl asked him about his life's purpose and current choices helped him to think things through for the first time.

Just then, a public carriage with a sign sped past him.

Lionel instinctively reached into his pocket to pull out a few coins, intending to hire a carriage to go to the office of "Good Words" magazine, when he suddenly stopped.

My pockets were empty.

He then suddenly realized that he had left the villa in such a hurry that he hadn't taken his wallet with him.

Then I took a caravan to Calais, and then a fishing boat to England, where someone was waiting for me at the dock as soon as I got off the boat...

He had been provided with transportation by boat and car along the way, and with the tight schedule, he completely forgot about it.

He had even casually told the person leading the way that there was no need to wait for him, and that he would go to find his friend after the meeting.

Looking back now, I'm kicking myself!

At this moment, he stood under the dim gas streetlights of London, penniless and alone.

Just moments ago, I was discussing the fate of the nation and my own future with intellectual giants, but now I'm facing the most basic existential dilemma.

Where should we spend the night tonight?
(End of today's fifth update)
(End of this chapter)