Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 421 Big Business!
"Going on a long trip?" Maupassant broke the silence first, asking the question on everyone's mind.

Before Leonardo could explain, he eagerly pressed, "How far? Italy? Switzerland? Or like last time, Vienna?"

Lionel shook his head and calmly uttered an answer that surprised everyone: "No, further than that. It's America."

"USA?!"

The exclamation came almost simultaneously from several mouths, followed by a chorus of incredulous whispers and doubts in the room.

Huysman made no attempt to hide his disdain: "That barbaric country where the streets are full of cowboys, Native Americans, and nouveau riche?"

He wouldn't even mention the word "America," as if saying it would tarnish his taste.

Paul Alexis's eyes widened: "My God, Leon, are you serious? Cross the Atlantic and come back? That would take weeks!"
Besides, what could we possibly do there? Read our work to millionaires who only care about steel and railroads?

Lionel was not surprised by their reaction.

In the Parisian elite circles of 1881, the image of the United States was complex and deeply divided.

On the one hand, due to their shared history during the War of Independence, the two countries maintained friendly relations at the political level, and France was even preparing a generous gift for the United States.

—A nearly 50-meter-tall bronze statue designed by Bartholdi to celebrate the upcoming centennial of the United States.

On the other hand, culturally, Parisian intellectuals generally held a condescending view of the New World as a "desert without civilization."

The famous, albeit scathing, assessment by Napoleonic-era foreign minister Talleyrand – “a terrible pig, and an arrogant pig at that” – remains a classic quote in salons.

They admit that the elevators in American buildings are incredibly fast, but then they laugh at the fact that there isn't a single decent mural on the walls of the entire building.

When facing the United States, the French feel as if they are watching a high-speed train laden with gold—they want to jump on and make a fortune, but they are also afraid of being crushed by it.

Lionel raised his voice, suppressing the noise in the room: "Let me finish. The U.S. Ambassador to France, Levi Morton, had previously extended an invitation to me to visit, but I didn't pay attention to it at the time."

But now, I see this as an opportunity. We shouldn't view it as a simple visit, but rather as a grand 'literary evangelism'.

“Literary evangelism?” Émile Zola seemed thoughtful.

Lionel nodded: "Indeed, think about it, gentlemen. A French literary delegation consisting of all of you here, and myself, has set foot on the land of the New World."

This in itself is sensational news. We can organize a series of public readings, literary lectures, and salon discussions. Boston, New York, Philadelphia…

Those wealthy Americans and intellectuals yearn to be 'certified' by European culture, especially French culture, and they are willing to spend generously to invite us.

Newspapers will scramble to report it, and curious citizens will crowd the venue. I assure you, if handled properly, the profits from this trip will more than compensate for your losses on the Panama Canal.”

The prospect was quite tempting, but other people's doubts did not immediately disappear.

Henri Cear hesitated before speaking: "But Leon, can Americans understand our work?"

Having grown accustomed to thrilling Westerns and cheap magazines, can they appreciate the subtle beauty of French literature?

Leon Ennick added, "There's also the language issue. My English is limited to ordering food in restaurants, and I believe most people are in the same boat."

Huysman's concerns were more practical: "I heard the food there is terrible, with almost nothing decent except roast beef and oyster soup."

Moreover, there are incessantly chattering reporters everywhere who will twist every word we say into sensational headlines!

Edmond Goncourt, being older, was more cautious: "More importantly, how do we ensure the organization and profitability of this trip? Who should we contact?"
Venue, publicity, ticketing... these are all trivial yet important matters. Are we writers really expected to handle them ourselves?

Faced with these conflicting concerns, Lionel remained remarkably calm and confident.

These people probably never imagined that in just a few decades, the heart of world literature would be transplanted from the European continent to the American continent to continue beating.

He raised his hand in a reassuring gesture: "Gentlemen, your questions are very practical. But believe me, once you embark on this journey, none of this will be a problem."

His tone was very confident: "Can't understand French works? That's exactly what we want! What would we do if we all understood them?"
Language barrier? Please speak French from beginning to end, even when ordering food in a restaurant! Translators? Let the Americans hire their own!
It's their regret that they can't understand our French speeches, not ours!
As for the itinerary, we will receive the most respectful hospitality.

Every city, every university, every club will open its doors to us!

This is not a pathetic act of begging, but a glorious cultural expedition.

Please remember, we are not here to pander or flatter; we are here to 'preach'!

After saying this, Lionel looked around at everyone, his gaze finally settling on Émile Zola, who had remained silent all along.

"Emile, what do you think? Should the new wing of the Meitang Villa be halted because of a failed investment?"

Émile Zola took a deep drag on his cigar and slowly exhaled the smoke.

He weighed the pros and cons—Lionel's past ability to turn lead into gold, and the risks of crossing the Atlantic…

Ultimately, the pragmatic need for money outweighed any reservations about cultural integrity. He nodded emphatically: "Lionel's judgment is rarely wrong. I agree!"

Zola's statement was like a reassuring pill.

Maupassant immediately raised his hand with a grin: "Of course I'll go! I have nothing to lose anyway, and it'll be a good opportunity to see if the girls of the New World are really as passionate and unrestrained as the legends say!"

After exchanging a glance, Daudet and Goncourt nodded slightly: "We are also willing to give it a try."

Seeing that the key figures had all agreed, Huysman, Alexis, Seal, and Enik also expressed their agreement.

After all, for them, who are currently mired in financial difficulties, Lionel's proposal is their only lifeline.

Seeing that everyone nodded, Lionel's face showed a satisfied expression.

He stood up and took his hat and coat off the hanger: "Very good. As for the specific details, I will report back to everyone after I have communicated with Ambassador Morton."

Everyone present breathed a sigh of relief as they watched Lionel leave the living room.

Only Georges Charpentier felt something was off, and it wasn't until Zola, Maupassant, and the others had all taken their leave that he suddenly realized—

"Since Lionel didn't make the appointment with anyone else, does he have something else to discuss with me?"

Somehow, George Charpentier seemed lost, as if something important had slipped away from his heart.

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One day later, at the U.S. Embassy in Paris.

Ambassador Levi Morton warmly received Lionel in his office.

The decor here is entirely American style: spacious and practical, with the Stars and Stripes and a portrait of Washington hanging on the walls.

Ambassador Morton greeted him with a broad smile, shaking Lionel's hand so firmly that he almost left a fingerprint on the back of Lionel's hand.

His voice was equally enthusiastic: "Mr. Sorel, please allow me to congratulate you again! Your wonderful performance at the International Electricity Expo not long ago really opened our eyes."

The 'miniature Paris' you and Mr. Tesla presented, along with your explanation of the future of alternating current, was simply fantastic!

Even my colleagues in Washington have heard about it.

Lionel smiled modestly: "You flatter me, Mr. Ambassador. It was just a small attempt to combine science and art."

In fact, the reason I've taken the liberty of visiting you today is to discuss a 'big business deal' with you.

Big business? The word seemed to have a magical power; the moment it reached Levi Morton's ears, his blue eyes lit up instantly.

As a native-born American, he believed in pragmatism, and for a diplomat, doing business was simply routine business, and could even be touted as a political achievement.

“Oh? What kind of ‘big business’ is it? Please tell me in detail, Mr. Sorel.”

As you know, in the United States of America, the most welcome business is 'big business'!

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Meanwhile, Thomas Edison was holding several thin sheets of paper in his hand, which were the investigation report that Samuel Insall had just submitted.

Edison's fingers traced the items listed on the paper, his brow furrowed.
Small carbon filament LED beads, from Joseph Swan in the UK;
Alternating current generator, purchased from British engineer James Gordon;

The transformer was supplied and licensed by Lucien Gaulande of France;
The batteries used on site are from Siemens-Halsk in Germany;

……

Edison put down the report and let out a soft, ambiguous hum.

He never expected that such a young man, so well-versed in the art of "integration," would appear in Europe.

That Nikola Tesla ingeniously stitched together technologies from Britain, France, and Germany to create a "miniature Paris".

Edison muttered to himself, "A hodgepodge..." His tone was ambiguous, neither contemptuous nor approving.

But this "pieced together" approach truly dimmed the luster of his "Tower of Light".

This made him unhappy, but it wasn't entirely without its benefits.

He looked up at Samuel Insall, seemingly trying to comfort himself, and murmured:

"For now, it seems that Sorel is only famous in France..."

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(End of this chapter)