Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 64 The Snake and the Fox

Under the slanting sunlight, Notre Dame Cathedral cast a huge shadow on the earth.

In the archbishop's luxurious but stale-smelling reception room, Gabriel Marel sat on a hard, high-backed chair with intricate carvings, feeling uncomfortable against his backside.

"Damn it, when will Gibel get rid of these clunky chairs? Gigo's sofa is so much more comfortable!" The strong smell of frankincense and myrrh in the air made him a little dizzy, but he could only mutter to himself.

Finally, the side door slid open silently, and Bishop Gilbert walked in slowly, his face bearing an expression that was a mixture of compassion and solemn majesty. His purple casual robes were impeccable, and the golden cross on his chest gleamed with a cold light.

He looked down at Gabriel from his high vantage point.

“Mr. Marel!” The bishop’s voice was low and weary, as if he had been working tirelessly to save the souls of Parisians: “To see you at this time is truly… a complex feeling.”

Gabriel immediately stood up, his face displaying utmost respect and just the right amount of fear, and bowed slightly: "Your Excellency, I am truly sorry."

As a devout believer and a publisher with a strong sense of responsibility, I feel it is necessary to personally explain and clarify some possible misunderstandings to you.

“A misunderstanding?” Bishop Gibel slowly walked to the huge oak desk, sat down gracefully, his fingertips touching to form a spire, and a mocking smile curled at the corner of his mouth.

“Mr. Marel, when countless souls are being seduced and corrupted by the words in ‘Decadent City,’ you’re telling me this is just a ‘misunderstanding’?”

Gabriel's face remained sincere: "Your Excellency, you are wise! I had no such intention..." He then went on to explain the differences between the "two versions" of "The Decadent City".

Finally, he added indignantly: "That pamphlet, just as I told Director Gigo, was definitely not from the 'Buzzing News'! This is a shameless imitation and frame-up! It was the work of some underground workshops that are envious of the literary value of 'Decadent City'!"
We publish naturalistic works that have undergone rigorous censorship, with inappropriate content removed, and possess profound social critique! The copyright registration with the Books and Libraries Bureau is the best proof of this!

“Proof?” Bishop Gilbert scoffed. “Gabriel, we’re all adults, why play these word games?”

We both know what readers are so eagerly pursuing! The space for endless imagination within those blank spaces! The details that were deleted, even without the booklet, can be filled in by everyone in their minds!
Even without that pamphlet, *The Decadent City* is a hellish novel!

Gabriel frowned. The reason Bishop Gibert was more difficult to deal with than Chief Gigo was that he didn't need to get bogged down in legal details; he could directly attack the moral aspects of the work.

“Your Excellency,” Gabriel took a deep breath, “I understand your concerns, I completely understand! As a father myself, I am also worried about the influence of inappropriate reading materials on young people. That is why we have made the greatest possible cuts.”

But as you know, literary creation... it needs to reflect certain social realities, even the dark side... just like Mr. Zola's works, which once sparked controversy, but were ultimately proven to be valuable..."

Bishop Gibert abruptly interrupted him: "Don't mention Zola! His so-called 'scientific naturalism' is itself a blasphemy against the order of God's creation!"

A brief silence fell over the room. Gabriel knew that mere explanations and literary discussions were no longer effective; he had to reveal his true strength.

Gabriel lowered his voice even further, with a heartfelt sincerity: "So, what do you think... how can this storm be quelled? I am willing to do everything in my power to cooperate with the Church... to purify the reading atmosphere in Paris."

Bishop Gibert leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the smooth tabletop, his voice regaining its previous calm: "Calm the storm? The source, Mr. Marelle, the key lies in the source. The real devil hidden behind that ridiculous pseudonym 'An Honest Parisian'!"

That culprit who blasphemes against the gods and poisons souls with words! As long as he exists, similar poisonous weeds will continue to proliferate!

Tell me, who is he? Where is he? Hand him over to the laws of the world…and to divine judgment!

“Alas!” Gabriel sighed heavily, his face filled with helplessness and distress. “Your Excellency, this is precisely what pains me the most! ‘An Honest Parisian’ is as cunning as an eel, submitting articles only through anonymous mailboxes, and accepting payment only in cash, money orders, and bearer checks.”

I never saw his face! He was like...like a ghost in the Paris sewers, leaving only these words behind.

As Gabriel spoke, he spread his hands, looking extremely annoyed: "I swear to you, if I knew who he was, for the sake of the purity of the soul of Paris, and to appease your anger, I would never protect him!" Bishop Gibert let out a cryptic chuckle: "A ghost? Heh... Hopefully, when the messenger sent by the Holy See arrives in Paris, your sweet talk will convince him."

Gabriel felt a chill run down his spine, realizing he had miscalculated.

He dared to publish an abridged version of "Decadent City" because of the increasingly relaxed cultural environment in France after 1871. Although Flaubert, Zola, and Édouard Manet of the Impressionist school were accused of moral corruption, none of the artists were ultimately brought to court.

Whether it's "Madame Bovary," "The Rougon-Macquart Family," or "Lunch on the Grass," they were all published or sold normally.

On the other hand, it was due to the significant weakening of the Papacy's authority, which even completely lost the "Papal States," let alone the ability to intervene in the politics of other countries.

Judging from Gilbert's words, it seems he doesn't care whether he gets arrested and imprisoned by the Paris police, but has a grander plan that can easily crush him.

Gabriel straightened his back, his tone becoming serious: "Your Grace, I have deeply reflected on my actions! Although we conducted rigorous content review, and although that supplementary booklet was an illegal counterfeit—"

However, it's undeniable that the popularity of *Decadent City* has objectively...potentially sparked some negative discussions and attention. As a responsible publisher and a devout believer, I feel deeply uneasy and am willing to take concrete actions to make amends!

Bishop Gibel remained expressionless, only his fingers, which had been lightly tapping the table, stopped. "Mr. Marel, it's good that you recognize your responsibility and have the heart to repent and make amends. This shows that you still have reverence in your heart and that your conscience has not been completely extinguished."

Half an hour later, in Bishop Gibel's office
"May the Lord forgive your transgressions and guide you on your future path, Mr. Marel." Bishop Gibert stood up, a holy smile on his face, and raised his well-maintained hand, adorned with a ring symbolizing authority, to Gabriel.

Gabriel bowed deeply, respectfully taking his large, fleshy hand and kissing the ring: "It is my honor to serve you and the cause of the Paris Book Society!"

Watching Gabriel's figure disappear through the doorway, Bishop Gibert curled his lip in disdain: "Fox!"

As Gabriel stepped out of Notre Dame and breathed in the Parisian air thick with the smell of horse manure and coal smoke, he spat out angrily: "Viper!"

As agreed, he will sponsor the "Paris Book Society" with 1 francs this week!
By accepting this "atonement money," Bishop Gibel will temporarily close the door on the Church's efforts to pursue severe accountability.

Without the bishop's continued strong pressure, and with the extra 5000 francs he contributed, Director Gigo would relax his investigation.

The current "Decadent City" is bringing in at least 5000 francs a day, nearly half of which is profit, and this number continues to rise as "Decadent City" spreads beyond Paris.

In just one week, he could make up for the money he had given to Gigo and Gibel.

He got into the carriage and leaned back wearily in the seat.

"Master, where are we going?" the coachman asked.

Gabriel didn't answer the question. Instead, he leaned halfway out of the car window and turned his head to the back: "Pierre, you said that at the post office on St. Martin's Boulevard, you only saw that poor young man and didn't see anyone else?"

“Yes, sir.” A tall, thin man answered humbly but firmly from the standing area at the back of the carriage, where servants were reserved.

“Okay, I understand.” Gabriel shrank back. “I’m going to the newspaper office; I need to write another letter to ‘a gentleman of honest Paris’.”

(The next chapter will be posted later; I've changed my approach and am currently rewriting it.)

　Myrrh, also known as the myrrh tree resin, is said to have miraculous healing properties. The Hebrews used it to make various fragrances, preservatives, and analgesics. It was one of the gifts brought to the newborn Christ by the three Eastern philosophers. One view holds that myrrh represents the fragrance of death, signifying the preciousness of Jesus' death.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)