Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 463, "The Coffee Shop," has come to an end!

The third act still features lyrics from "Rapping Jacques".

The comedian's back was more hunched than before, his tattered clothes were almost unrecognizable, and the "Vielle" in his hand had cracked in several places.

The first strange thing is the conscription order—

Every young man is a hero, charging forward with the emperor!

Moscow, not far away, how glorious it is to die for one's country!
Why are the recruiting officers so enthusiastic?

He cracked his whip: "Those who don't go are deserters, and will be killed without mercy!"

The second strange thing is the newspaper—

Only when we win battles will news of victory spread every day!
They don't even mention the defeats; every family is heartbroken.

Why do reporters only report good news and not bad?
He glared at him: 'Disrupting morale is a crime punishable by imprisonment!'

The third strange thing is the lockdown order—

British goods are not allowed to come in, while our own products are everywhere!
Factories are closing down, businessmen are worried, and sugar and coffee prices are skyrocketing!
Dear Councilor, what is the reason for the lockdown?

He raised his fist: "His Majesty the Emperor is truly wise! Let those British bastards starve to death!"

The lyrics are still full of satire, but the wit in "Rapping Jacques"'s voice is gone, replaced by numbness and sorrow.

He wasn't singing about the distant past, but rather about the "glory of the empire" that many audience members' ancestors had personally experienced.

The brutal conscription system, manipulated public opinion, and the economic hardship caused by the mainland blockade...

These fragments of memory are pieced together in the audience's minds along with the lyrics.

After he finished singing, he seemed to have no strength left even to bow. He simply hunched over and silently retreated into the darkness.

With the lights shining brightly, the "Golden Sun" café from the third act is presented to the audience.

The year was 1809, and the café was becoming increasingly dilapidated.

The slogans on the walls had been torn to shreds, and in some places the imperial eagle emblem had been pasted on, but the emblem itself had begun to fade and peel off.

The emperor's battle reports replaced the revolutionary committee's announcements, but the atmosphere in the café remained one of poverty, anxiety, and disillusionment with the current situation.

The boss, Pierre, had aged considerably; his hair was gray, and he moved slowly.

He was still trying to keep the café running, but he was already exhausted.

The number of regular customers has dwindled, and some faces have vanished forever—perhaps fallen on foreign battlefields.

The new customers talked about the emperor's victories, but their tone was not enthusiastic. Frequent recruitment of soldiers and ever-increasing taxes were fueling growing discontent.

Lefebvre returned to the stage, but he was no longer the spirited player he once was.

His factory struggled amid the empire's turbulent economic policies and continental blockade, and his dream of "saving the country through industry" was shattered by reality.

His conversation with Pierre was filled with frustration:

"...A blockade? We're blocking ourselves! Machine parts can't get in, and goods can't be sold..."

The Emperor wants to starve the British? I think we French merchants will starve first!

Viscount Saint-Cyr also occasionally appears, his noble status becoming awkward during the imperial period.

He watched the rise and fall of the empire with detached indifference, whispering to Pierre:

"Look, another 'Sun of Austerlitz' has risen! But after the sun sets, it will be a cold, freezing night."

This scene lacks the vibrancy of the first scene and the brutality of the second, but it evokes a sense of despair akin to being slowly boiled like a frog in water.

As people watched the figures on stage struggle and succumb to the empire's glory, it was as if they were witnessing a different kind of weariness and nihilism that France had fallen into after its fervor.

Hope is like a candle flickering in the wind, lit again and again, only to be easily blown out time and time again.

The curtain fell in a somber and oppressive atmosphere, the applause brief, the audience eagerly awaiting Lionel's final shot into his heart.

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After intermission, the final scene of "Café" finally arrived.

At the beginning of this scene, "Rapping Jacques" almost becomes a ghost.

He was ragged and emaciated; even his violin, "Vielle," was reduced to a broken neck. He opened his mouth, his voice hoarse, as if from a grave:

The first strange thing is that the noble lord has returned.

After years of exile, I'm returning to my homeland. I need to make sure the land deeds and property deeds are valid!
The farmers trembled with fear; for whom did the soldiers fire their guns?
Gentlemen, how is the land rent calculated?
He tapped his cane on the ground: 'The king is back, everything is as before!'

The second strange thing is the group of people in white.

The revolution was fierce back then, and now repentance is useless!
Anyone who doesn't remember the former king's kindness will be stabbed in the back in the middle of the night!

Judge, what's the logic behind this?

He sneered: 'Opposing the king is a capital offense!'

The third strange thing is the Mass bell—

The church was packed with people; not going meant you didn't believe in God!
The priest was smug again, saying that free thought was the devil!
Ask the priest, why are you so busy?

He made the sign of the cross: 'Too many souls destined for hell, too few priests!'

This is no longer irony, but the lament of the dying.

He finished singing, didn't bow, just stood there blankly for a while, and then disappeared silently into the darkness.

The lights came on one last time, illuminating the final moments of the "Golden Sun" café.

The time was early in the second Bourbon Restoration.

The scene on the stage was heartbreaking; the interior of the café was dilapidated, with several pieces of broken glass in the windows, barely covered up with old newspapers.

The tables and chairs were old and broken, and most of them were missing, leaving the place empty.

The oil paintings that once decorated the walls are long gone, leaving only marks of varying shades, and dust is piled up everywhere.

After Pierre, Lefebvre, and Viscount Saint-Cyr finished their confessions to the broken statue of the Virgin Mary in the shop and left... (see Chapter 414 for details)
The stage lights dimmed as Pierre said "Goodbye," and the deep red curtain fell for the last time.

It completely sealed away that moment: Pierre's lonely figure, the broken statue of the Virgin Mary, and the joys and sorrows of the "Golden Sun" café over the past thirty years.

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The silence in Richelieu's Hall was so deep and heavy that it seemed as if all the sounds of the world had been silenced here.

Nearly two thousand audience members remained frozen in their seats, their souls seemingly still lingering in that café filled with despair and disillusionment.

The three "confessions" of Pierre, Lefebvre, and Viscount Saint-Cyr deeply pierced the hearts of every viewer.

That was not a religious confession of sin, but the strongest indictment against fate and the times!
A profound sense of sorrow enveloped the entire theater, leaving the audience speechless and even breathless. A minute passed.

Two minutes passed.

Five minutes passed.

Time flowed slowly in the frozen silence; there was no applause, no discussion, not even a cough.

This long silence conveyed the impact on the audience's hearts more effectively than any clamor.

Sudden--

"Bravo!!!"

A hoarse cheer, like a thunderclap, suddenly erupted from the back row of the stalls, instantly shattering the silence.

That shout was like a dynamite, blasting open the long-suppressed emotional dam.

"Bravo!!"

"Brava!!"

"Sorel!"

"The author! The author!"

More shouts erupted from all directions, initially scattered, but quickly coalesced into an unstoppable torrent.

The applause came down like a tidal wave!

The applause was no longer polite and restrained, but a frenzied outpouring, filled with heartfelt trembling and sobs!

The audience seemed to be releasing all the shock, all the sorrow, and all the memories that had been pent up in their chests...

Only through this frenzied applause and shouts can we express our respect for this great drama.

The entire audience spontaneously stood up. From the stalls to the balcony seats and boxes, everyone left their seats, faced the stage, and applauded enthusiastically and selflessly.

The gentlemen abandoned their reserve and waved their hats vigorously; the ladies, with tears glistening in their eyes, shouted loudly, disregarding all decorum.

The young people were so excited that their faces turned red, and they stomped their feet and whistled.

"Genius! Lionel Sorel is a genius!"

"This is not just theater! This is the soul of France!"

"We have witnessed history! We have witnessed ourselves!"

"Long live 'Café'! Long live Sorel!"

The enormous roar almost lifted the dome of the comedy theater.

Just then, a rhythmic shout rang out from the balcony and quickly spread throughout the entire venue:

"The author! The author! The author!"

Nearly two thousand people spoke in unison, their voices like war drums, calling upon Lionel, leaving no room for refusal.

Backstage, Dean Émile Perrin was so excited he almost fainted, while Lionel and Maupassant were caught off guard by the overwhelming cheers.

Maupassant, with tears still wet on his face, was too moved to speak.

Maupassant grabbed Lionel's arm: "Léon...they're calling you!"

Émile Perrin shoved him hard: “Go! Go now! My God! This is a historic moment! More sensational than Thunderstorm!”

Lionel took a deep breath, straightened his clothes, and then, ignoring Maupassant's astonishment, pulled him toward the side of the stage.

Maupassant was stunned. He wanted to break free, yet couldn't bear to, muttering repeatedly, "Léon, you are the author, I'm just... just..."

But Lionel pulled him hard and refused to let go.

As the crimson curtain slowly rose again amidst continuous cries of "Author!", Lionel and Maupassant appeared before the audience.

Everyone clearly recognized the other person who also appeared in the poster's author list, and in an instant, the shouts and applause reached their peak!

"Sorel!!"

"The great Sorel!!"

"Maupassant!!!"

"A brilliant Maupassant!!"

"Bravo!!!"

Flowers began to be thrown onto the stage from all directions, starting with just a few scattered bunches, but soon they poured down like a torrential downpour.

Roses, lilies, carnations, violets... flew out from the stalls, from the balcony, from the private boxes, landing at the feet of Lionel and Maupassant.

The petals were scattered, and a rich fragrance instantly filled the air.

A noblewoman in a private box excitedly took off her diamond brooch and threw it at Lionel, almost hitting Maupassant in the forehead.

More women began to take off their handkerchiefs, scarves, and jewelry, waving them and throwing them onto the stage as a gesture of greeting.

Lionel and Maupassant had to bow repeatedly.

Each time they straightened up, it sparked a new and even more enthusiastic round of cheers.

Maupassant was completely immersed in immense happiness and excitement, bowing repeatedly to the audience in all directions, tears welling up in his eyes once again.

Lionel was relatively calmer, but his chest was still heaving violently.

Immediately afterwards, the main actors who were performing tonight also went on stage to join them.

The audience responded with enthusiastic applause and cheers, especially when the actor playing "Jacques the Rapper" appeared.

The front of the stage was quickly covered with colorful bouquets, forming a flower wall that was almost knee-high.

The actors and writers stood among the flowers, bowing and waving repeatedly.

However, the audience's enthusiasm did not subside.

The cries of "Author! Author!" rang out again, this time more specific:

"Sorel! Speak!"

"Leonard! Say a few words!"

All eyes were on Lionel.

(Second update, please vote with monthly tickets, I'll try to post two more updates later!)

(End of this chapter)