Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 450 Giants never have a good ending!

With a long whistle, the sound of wheels hitting the rails slowed down, and the train finally pulled slowly into the station.

"It's over," Lionel thought to himself, gazing at the platform outside the train window.

Compared to the magnificent stone buildings in Europe or on the East Coast of the United States, this station looks quite rudimentary.

It consists of just a few wooden houses with tall, pointed roofs, reflecting the typical American Western style.

The platform was already packed with people, a dense, dark mass, and the noise even drowned out the sound of the train arriving at the station.

The train came to a complete stop. Lionel took a deep breath, straightened his coat, and, surrounded by Pinkerton detectives, walked toward the door.

As soon as he stepped onto the platform, a deafening cheer erupted in his face.

The crowd was restless and pushed forward. Station staff joined hands to form a cordon and struggled to stop the inching flow of people.

As in other cities, gentlemen's hats were tossed into the air, and ladies' handkerchiefs were waved like a white ocean.

"Mr. Sorel! Look here!"

Welcome to San Francisco!

"Hero! Our hero!"

The enthusiasm was even greater than in New York.

At this moment, a middle-aged man, surrounded by his entourage, came forward to greet them.

He was dressed in a formal suit, his hair was neatly combed, and he had a warm smile on his face. He introduced himself as Mayor Maurice Carey Black.

Mayor Black gripped Lionel's hand tightly, shaking it up and down: "Mr. Sorel! Thank God! It's so good that you arrived safely!"

Welcome to San Francisco! All of California is happy for you to be safe and sound!

Before Lionel could respond, several familiar figures broke through the crowd and walked over quickly.

It was Zola, Maupassant, Daudet, and the like!
Maupassant was the first to rush forward, disregarding etiquette, and hugged Lionel tightly: "Lion!"

He slapped Lionel hard on the back, his beard brushing against his cheek: "You bastard! We thought you'd been killed by that son of a bitch Black Knight!"

Next was Zola, the great writer, who grasped his hand tightly, overwhelmed with emotion: "Léon, thank God! Seeing you're alright, I...we..."

His voice choked up, and he couldn't continue.

Daudet, Goncourt, Huysmann, and others also gathered around, their faces showing genuine concern and joy.

Despite feeling extremely uncomfortable in San Francisco these past few days, Lionel returned safely, so they all seemed to be in good spirits.

Lionel reassured his companions, "I'm fine, friends, I'm fine."

After the absurd and dangerous farce in Windbreak Town, these familiar faces gave him a long-lost sense of security.

Mayor Black called out to the crowd at the opportune moment: "Ladies and gentlemen! Please be quiet! Let us welcome the warriors from France!"

He is Mr. Lionel Sorel, who quelled a riot with his wisdom and courage. Let him say a few words to us!

Lionel looked at the mayor in surprise, wondering if he had "initiated a riot".

However, the enthusiastic cheers from the crowd interrupted his train of thought.

Lionel was pushed to a wooden box that served as a makeshift podium. He looked at the enthusiastic faces below, remained silent for a few seconds, and then stood up.

The platform gradually quieted down.

Lionel said, "Thank you! Thank you for the hospitality of San Francisco, thank you, Mayor!"

He paused for a moment, his gaze sweeping across the crowd: "Stepping onto California soil, I am filled with emotion."

My experiences in this western town over the past few days have been more enriching than my entire two weeks on the East Coast combined!

An awkward murmur rippled through the crowd. A renowned French writer had been kidnapped by his own bandits and then witnessed the chaos of the town's election...

All of this embarrassed the upper class in San Francisco.

Lionel did not make any accusations, but instead said in a very calm tone: "I never thought I would understand America so deeply in this way."

I saw its vitality, and I also saw its scars; I saw its vastness, and I also felt its complexity.

Along the way, I traveled from the Atlantic to the Pacific, witnessing and reflecting on many things—America is a young giant, full of power and vitality.

But even giants must be careful of the path they walk on.

His words were brief and not particularly rousing, yet they silenced the entire room.

But Lionel wasn't going to launch into a long speech: "Thank you again for the welcome. I'm honored to stand here, on the edge of the Pacific Ocean."

After he finished speaking, he bowed slightly and jumped off the wooden crate.

Mayor Black stepped forward again, warmly put his arm around Lionel's shoulder, and waved to the crowd.

Zola and the others also gathered around, and in this enthusiastic atmosphere, the group struggled through the crowd to board the luxurious carriage waiting outside the station.

That evening, in their suite at the Palace Hotel, Lionel met with Zola, Maupassant, Goncourt, Daudet, and Huysmann. Bottles and glasses of wine were on the table, but no one touched them.

Maupassant asked impatiently, "Alright, Léon, there's no one else here. Tell me quickly, what exactly happened?"

The newspapers portrayed you as King Solomon, who single-handedly persuaded a mob! Damn it, we almost prepared your funeral!

Lionel leaned back in his chair, his face showing exhaustion: "It's not that legendary. I was just lucky not to be killed by a stray bullet."

He briefly recounted what happened—

How he was kidnapped by the Black Knight, how he was forced to revise those clumsy poems, how he accidentally wandered into Windbreak and got caught up in that ridiculous election conflict.

After listening, Zola slowly nodded: "I understand. You didn't win them over with courage or eloquence."

You took advantage of American social rules, and you also took advantage of their greed and cowardice.

Lionel nodded: "You could say that. Beneath the vitality of this country lies an undisguised calculation of interests, behind freedom lies a fragile order, and beneath a fierce exterior lies a deep-seated fear."

He looked at the other French writers: "Gentlemen, America is not Europe. It is younger, rougher, and more naked."

Here, you can see the most vibrant vitality, and also the most profound hypocrisy. The double standards this country applies to national morality are shocking.

It can verbally proclaim freedom and equality, yet in reality condone the use of violence to deprive people of their freedom; it praises individual struggle, yet internally creates a new form of slavery.

We've seen its best side, and we've also glimpsed its worst. As I said today, it's a giant that needs to watch its step.

Huysman chuckled lightly: "'Giants'—what a harsh metaphor, Leon."

This remark made the others laugh as well.

In the cultural context of Europe, "giant" is not a very favorable metaphor.

In almost all myths, legends, or mythological literature, giants are always the ones who appear powerful but ultimately fail.

From Typhon, the storm giant imprisoned in the abyss in Greek mythology, to Goliath, defeated by David with a single stone…

In short, giants never have a good ending.

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On the third day, we visited Baldwin Theatre, the largest theater in San Francisco.

This is a "theater and hotel" style building, a typical Second Empire style, while its decoration has strong Victorian characteristics, being intricate and exquisite.

This style is now popular in the United States, and many large public buildings are "British-French hybrids".

The Baldwin Theatre's main hall was packed, with an additional 600 aisle tickets sold in addition to the 1800 regular seats.

Due to Lionel's legendary story, the postponed speech received unprecedented attention.

The original venue, the City Hall auditorium, was simply not large enough to accommodate so many people who wanted to see Lionel and the French writers' group, so the location was changed to this venue at the last minute.

“We raised the price of each ticket from a minimum of 50 cents to $2, and the maximum to $10, but they still sold out!”

Eric Morton excitedly explained, "This far exceeds the ticket price of the most popular plays here this year! This one performance is equivalent to three shows in New York!"

Lionel was backstage adjusting his costume, preparing to go on stage, when he heard this and asked, "So, what's the most popular play here this year?"

Eric Morton gave a knowing smile: "Mr. Sorel, it's your 'Thunderstorm'!"

Lionel: "..." I should have known better than to ask that question.

During this time, when Lionel and Zola were strolling around, they actually saw quite a few pirated copies of their books in American bookstores, but they were helpless to do anything about it.

At this moment, the theater's audience seats were packed with San Francisco politicians, celebrities, businessmen, journalists, and many middle-class people who had come after hearing the news.

Everyone was filled with anticipation and curiosity, eager to hear firsthand what this legendary French writer would have to say.

A few minutes later, Lionel Sorel was already standing on the stage, looking at the dark mass of people below.

Mayor Black gave a brief but warm introduction, referring to Lionel as "a dear friend from France" and "a wise traveler."

After the applause subsided, Mayor Blake stepped backstage, and the room fell silent.

Lionel didn't speak immediately. He took something out of his pocket, held it between his fingers, and raised it high so that the people in the front row could see it.

It was a dark, rough metal sheet.

Lionel's voice, amplified by the theater's excellent acoustics, reached everyone's ears: "Ladies and gentlemen."

Before heading west, we also visited another place, Pittsburgh, and a small town called Cornellsville.

He paused, letting the name echo in the silence.

He gently shook the tin coin: "There, a miner works all day, and his reward isn't dollars, gold coins, or silver coins, but this—"

They call it 'tin coin'!

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(End of this chapter)