1836: I Became a Literary Giant in Great Britain

That night at Gore's mansion completely ignited London's literary scene.

The following day, major London newspapers reported on the literary clash that took place at the salon with unprecedented enthusiasm.

The Times' commentary was relatively restrained, praising Mr. Michel's remarkable talent in poetry while expressing cautious observation regarding his "free verse" style.

I wonder if it's because he was scared by Michelle before, so his main strategy is "If I don't make a mistake, you can't do anything to me..."

As for the London Express, it's naturally Michel's staunch supporter, showering it with all sorts of praise and flattery.

Some of the compliments were so exaggerated that even Michelle herself felt embarrassed.

According to them, Michelle could practically sit at the same table as Shelley and Byron...

Some of the more radical literary tabloids, however, were quite blunt in calling Michel a "barbarian of poetry."

"A country boy trying to teach London how to write poetry? That's undoubtedly the biggest joke of the year!"

"We acknowledge that 'When You Are Old' is a masterpiece, but it's even more heartbreaking! A genius who could have achieved great things in classical metrical poetry chose to stoop to playing with those lowly, novel word games!"

For a time, the entire London literary scene was divided into two distinct camps because of the name Michel.

Supporters, especially younger writers and poetry lovers, idolize Michel, believing he has injected new vitality into the stagnant British poetry scene.

The opponents, on the other hand, were mostly old-school scholars and poets who adhered to tradition. They were heartbroken and regarded Michel's free verse as a monstrous flood, believing that it would completely destroy the beauty and order of poetry.

The more intense the debate, the more famous Michelle became.

He was not only a famous novelist in London, but also a talented up-and-coming poet!

In short, it's unclear whether it was the Countess's influence or Michel's own strength that made it possible.

Although Michel's concept of free verse was highly controversial, his poetic talent was universally praised throughout London's literary circles.

The poem "When You Are Old" became an instant sensation among London's high society ladies...

Every salon, every afternoon tea, would feel rather dull if a lady didn't recite a few lines of "Only one man loved the pilgrim soul in you" in an elegant tone and shed a few glistening tears.

Michelle's name instantly became synonymous with talent and romance...

Invitations poured in from all corners of London, piling up on Michel's desk in his apartment.

From the Countess's private dinners to the Member of Parliament's book clubs, and the newly rich businessman's family dances, almost all high society events were open to this literary upstart!

Even more so, some subtly hinted at the possibility of further private conversations.

Having nothing to do today, I'm listening to music at the brothel.

Bah! I am mortal with gambling and drugs.

Am I, Michelle, such an easily tempted person?

Of course, the biggest reason why Michelle maintained her moral integrity was not because of her noble character.

Rather, it was in this year lacking in safety measures.

Syphilis is just too damn rampant!

As for how widespread it is?

Let's not talk about France, but take London today as an example.

At least 10% of the adult population is infected.

As for literary circles and high society circles, the infection rate will only be higher...

Leaving aside the three famous literary giants of syphilis—Maupassant, Flaubert, and Baudelaire—even Wilde, Stendhal, and Heine were victims...

so......

Oh dear, it's nothing serious. Warts are no big deal. The odds of getting AIDS are low. You need to take good care of yourself.

Thinking about this famous quote that would become a running joke, Michelle realized that her own life was more important...

He had absolutely no desire to think about in-depth communication...

"Michel, you're the most popular poet in all of London now!"

Dickens sat on Michel's soft, comfortable sofa, flipping through the invitations on the table and marveling at them.

"Look at this, an invitation from the Duchess! Good heavens, after all these years of hard work, I only received a Christmas card from her last year!"

Michel, however, seemed uninterested. He was staring out the window, oblivious to the gold-embossed invitations.

"What's wrong? Are you unhappy?" Dickens noticed his mood.

"It's not that I'm unhappy." Michelle shook her head and sighed wearily.

"I just feel a little mentally exhausted."

These past few days, he has attended several banquets and dealt with countless strangers, wearing a polite smile and saying insincere pleasantries.

This kind of life is far more tiring than writing in the attic.

"I understand, I understand."

Dickens patted him on the shoulder, deeply agreeing.

"The Troubles of Fame..."

"Sometimes, you really want to split yourself in two, one half for writing and the other half for dealing with this damn social life."

"That's right." Michael pushed open the door and entered, carrying a bottle of whiskey.

"So guys, it's time to have some fun and relax."

He put the bottle on the table, squeezed next to Dickens, and picked up an invitation to read.

"Dear Mr. Michel, I will be hosting a seminar on ancient Greek tragedy this Saturday, and I cordially invite you to attend..."

"Oh God, just listening to this makes me want to doze off."

Michael yawned dramatically, then leaned closer mysteriously.

"Guys, let's not waste the weekend on these old fogies. I have a better suggestion."

"What proposal?" Michelle and Dickens looked at him at the same time.

"Horse racing." Michael's eyes gleamed with excitement.

"Go to Newmarket and see real horse racing!"

race!

This word gave both Michelle and Dickens a jolt.

In this era, horse racing was the most popular form of entertainment in Britain, bar none.

The Epsom derby, held every May or June, is a major national celebration.

From royalty to commoners, everyone will go crazy for it!

"But it's only February, what major competitions are there?"

Dickens raised a question.

"Who says you have to watch the big games?" Michael raised an eyebrow.

"Newmarket has plenty of private training matches, which, although small in scale, are just as exciting. And, most importantly..."

He lowered his voice, like a seductive devil.

"You can also place bets."

What am I sworn enemies with again?

Michelle's face also showed an eager expression, and her fatigue was swept away.

He was fed up with all the fake flattery and just wanted to do something simple and pure that would get his adrenaline pumping.

Let's have some manly fun!

"it is good."

Michelle stood up and picked up her coat.

"When do we leave?"

"Right now!"

Michael and Dickens shouted in unison.

The three exchanged a smile, forgetting all about the invitations plastered on the table.

Like three truant teenagers, they ran towards the racetrack where they could freely express their passion!