Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 439 Here, even money is forbidden to escape!

Lionel feigned confusion: "No cash? Isn't this America? If American bars don't accept cash, what do they accept?"

His voice wasn't loud, but it was a quiet time in the bar, so everyone could hear him clearly.

But the surrounding miners just watched in silence, no one daring to speak.

Just then, a young miner who seemed a bit bolder, probably had a few drinks, staggered over.

He was a Black man, and his face was covered in soot, so only the whites of his eyes and teeth looked exceptionally white.

He rummaged in his dirty work clothes pocket and pulled out a few small metal discs, which he then handed to Lionel.

The young miner's accent was thick and somewhat unclear: "We use this. It's 'tin coins' issued by the company, and you can only use them in the shops in town..."

Lionel asked, "May I take a look?"

The young miner hesitated for a moment, but seeing how well-dressed Lionel and the others were, he handed over the "tin coins" to them.

Lionel took the few dusty metal pieces; they felt light and cheap to the touch. He then gave one to Zola, who was standing next to him.

Zola held the "tin coin" in his hand and found that the edges were very rough, completely unlike the smoothness and roundness of a regular coin.

He examined it closely by the dim kerosene lamp in the bar. The "tin coin" was probably indeed made of pewter or some other cheap metal, which is why it was so light.

The obverse of the "Tin Coin" is marked with the word "CONNELLSVILLE" around the edge, and the number "5" is in the center.

Turn it over, and the back has a mine cart pattern, which is also very simple.

After Zola touched it, he handed it to Daudet, who looked at it and then passed it on to Maupassant and Huysmann...

The small metal piece was passed from hand to hand among the French writers, each of them growing increasingly solemn, their eyes filled with disbelief.

They had never heard of a modern enterprise that could completely replace legal tender with its own stamped coins as wages for its workers.

Moreover, this forced circulation within this enclosed area is practically an independent kingdom, a completely different world from the steel mill and workers' quarters we saw during the day!

Zola nudged Leonard beside him with his elbow, leaned close to his ear, and said in a tone that was both shocked and angry: "Leonard, they are creating new slaves!"

Lionel nodded slightly, showing no surprise on his face.

He turned to the young miner, held up the tin coin marked with a "5", and asked, "How many US dollars is this worth? I mean, real US dollars."

The young miner looked bewildered, scratched his head, and shook off a clump of coal dust: "Dollar? I don't know. But one 'tin coin' is probably one 'cent', right?"

He paused, then lowered his voice: "I haven't been outside town in a long time. These 'tin coins' can't be used outside. If I go out, I'll have nowhere to spend them and I'll starve."

"boom--!"

This sentence exploded in the minds of Zola, Daudet, Maupassant, and others.

They were deeply shocked, far more so than when they had experienced the shock at the steel mill!
American capitalists have managed to bind these miners to the mining area in such a simple and vicious way!

They exchanged their labor for these worthless metal pieces, depriving them of the right to use real currency.

In this way, they can't save any money at all, so they can't spend it freely or choose to leave!

This is more direct and blatant than any of the methods of European capitalists they have ever described!
Looking at the young miner's bewildered and somewhat uneasy face, Lionel handed him the one-dollar bill: "Look, this is one dollar."

That's equivalent to 100 cents. If you'd like, you can exchange your '100 tin coins' for this $1. Fair enough, right?

"hiss--!"

A collective gasp of astonishment instantly filled the air around them!
Many of the older miners, who had been secretly watching, instinctively craned their necks toward Lionel upon hearing this.

Their eyes gleamed with envy and jealousy as they stared intently at the green banknote.

That's $1! A real $1! Hard currency that can buy things anywhere!

However, to everyone's surprise, the young miner only glanced at the tempting banknote before decisively shaking his head.

He reached out, not to take the dollars, but to take back his tin coins: "I won't exchange."

His voice was crisp and his tone matter-of-fact: "I have no use for US dollars. I can't spend them in the mines, and the little money I have outside isn't enough either."

He pointed to the tin coins in Lionel's hand and emphasized, "These can be used to buy wine and food here."

Zola and the others were once again awestruck!

This person has even lost the ability to perceive the value of currency in the outside world, or rather, he believes that such "exchange" is meaningless in his own reality.

He was completely trapped by this exchange system made up of "tin coins".

Just then, the bartender spoke up, a fawning smile on his face, and said to Lionel, "Sir, sir! He's being silly! Please don't mind him."

If you want to exchange some tin coins for pocket money, I have some here! I'll exchange them with you!

As he spoke, he eagerly reached into the pocket of his apron and pulled out a dozen or so tin coins of varying denominations, piling them up in front of Lionel.

"Look, how about exchanging all this for your one dollar? That's enough for you guys to have a good night's drink!"

Lionel's gaze swept over the rough metal sheets, then over the expectant bartender and the greedy-eyed miners around him. He didn't refuse, but simply nodded and said calmly, "Okay."

Then the bartender took the "tin coins" from the bartender and returned the young miner's tin coins to him; the young miner was overjoyed, took the "tin coins," and sat back down in his seat.

The bartender's face instantly lit up with a smile, as if he had gotten a great deal.

He grabbed the one-dollar bill and quickly stuffed it into the innermost pocket of his clothes, afraid that Lionel might change his mind.

Lionel smiled at the relieved bartender: "So, may we order drinks now?"

The bartender grinned, revealing yellow teeth, his smile incredibly enthusiastic and obsequious: "Of course! Of course! Gentlemen, what kind of wine would you like?"

We have excellent whisky here! Plenty to go!

--------

The cheap whiskey still burned their throats as Lionel and his group left the bar and stood on the dirty streets of Cornellville.

The cold night wind did not sober them up; instead, it made Lionel and his group even angrier.

Zola's chest heaved violently: "This isn't money! This is shackles! Using these cheap metal pieces to lock living people to death in this coal dust!"
They're not paying for labor; they're selling slaves in a more cunning way!

Dudley's face turned pale, and his voice trembled: "God, I never imagined that I would see something like this in America, a country that claims to be free and equal."

'Tin coins'? This modern form of exploitation is more cruel than that of any feudal lord.

Maupassant scoffed: "Ha! Here, even money is forbidden to escape! 'Tin coins' cannot leave the mining area, just as miners cannot leave the mine shaft."

Lionel shook his head: "See? America's poverty is 'smarter' than France's—"

After all, in France, the poor at least have real money to touch, know how much it weighs, and what it can buy.

Here, even the money is fake; it's printed by generous Mr. Morgans as fodder to feed them.

Yusman added with a gloomy face, "Moreover, the price of this feed is ridiculously high."

He had carefully compared the face value of those tin coins and what they could buy in the bar, and already had a general idea in his mind.

The oldest among them, Goncourt, murmured, “From New York to here, in just one week, we went from paradise on earth to hell on earth, and they’re both in America!”

These words silenced everyone.

Yes, the glamorous and prosperous America and the America before us, ruled by "tin coins," are actually the same country.

This stark contrast is more alarming to them than a simple gap between the rich and the poor.

With the remaining tin coins in their pockets, they decided to wander around the town a little longer.

Cornellville at night possesses a strange kind of "vitality".

Many shops on both sides of the street still had their lights on and doors open, including grocery stores, clothing stores, and even barbershops.

Each store displayed the name "CONNELLSVILLE," clearly indicating that, like the bars, they were "company stores."

The store has a wide variety of goods, from food and fabrics to simple tools.

Zola, Daudet, and others went inside, silently converting the prices of the goods into francs in their minds, and then comparing them with the prices of similar goods in Paris.

Daudet said in a low voice, "This...this is outrageous. If I'm not mistaken, the fabric here is more expensive than in Paris!"

Huysman said with certainty, "If one 'tin coin' really equals one 'cent,' then prices here are at least thirty percent more expensive than outside!"

No wonder the bartender was so happy to exchange a bunch of metal pieces for Leon's $1!

This discovery weighed even more heavily on the writers' minds.

This place not only uses tokens to restrict personal freedom, but also uses monopolies and high prices to squeeze every last drop of blood and sweat from workers.

This is a completely closed-loop blood-sucking system, efficient yet cruel.

Then they passed a house with dim lighting, and a brightly colored curtain with pictures of sexy women hanging at the door.

Several brightly dressed girls leaned against the door. When they saw Lionel and his entourage dressed in fine clothes, their eyes lit up immediately, and they greeted them warmly.

"Hey gentlemen! Come on in and have some fun!"

"Want a drink? We have some nice girls here!"

One of the prettiest girls, who was also the boldest, swayed her hips and moved right up to Lionel, the cheap scent of her perfume wafting into Lionel's nose.

She tilted her head back, gave Lionel a flirtatious smile, and whispered almost in his ear, "Gentlemen, seeing you're from out of town, if you'd like to pay in cash—"

I mean, real US dollars, paper bills or coins are fine, just have some fun with us, and you only need to pay half the amount. How about it?

Lionel translated her words to the others, and Maupassant was the first to be indignant: "Hey, even the girls know that these 'tin coins' can't be used as real money!"

Before Lionel could respond to this heartbreaking "offer," a voice rang out behind them:
"Gentlemen! What are you doing here?"

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