1836: I Became a Literary Giant in Great Britain

Chapter 82: Literary History Will Open Another Page for Him (Please Subscribe!)

In contemporary Britain, the status of short stories can be described as "completely gone."

Generally speaking, short stories are considered an adjunct to novels, a way to fill magazine pages, rather than an independent art form.

Long novels are the proper path for serious literature, while short stories are just "trinkets," "practice writing," or "entertainment."

It can be said that the status of novels was already very low, and the status of short stories was the lowest among novels.

This is why Grant and Professor Rodriguez looked down on Michelle.

An author who started out writing short stories is undoubtedly at the bottom of the social hierarchy.

What's the use of writing well and getting a good market response? You lousy short story writer...

If it weren't for the fact that Michelle's poem "When You Are Old" was so outstanding and a significant achievement in poetry, their attitude would probably have been even more arrogant.

Grant's face turned ashen; he had expected Michelle to stammer and be unable to give a coherent explanation.

However, Michel simply used the "iceberg theory" to completely refute his previous questions.

Professor Rodriguez, sitting in the audience, also looked quite displeased.

He acknowledged that Michel's theory was indeed innovative, but the more successful Michel was, the more his approach seemed to fail.

This only highlights Professor Joseph's keen eye for talent.

This is something he cannot accept.

He had to speak up himself!

"Absurd! Mr. LeBlanc, literature is a sacred beacon that must illuminate every corner."

"What you call the underwater part," in my opinion, is nothing more than the author's laziness, lack of talent, and irresponsibility towards the readers! Are we supposed to guess at the author's unwritten nonsense?

Professor Rodriguez interrupted Michelle's speech sharply.

Upon hearing Professor Rodriguez's viewpoint, the older generation of scholars in the audience nodded in agreement.

This set of views is undoubtedly more in line with their long-established literary perspective.

The students also began to waver.

Although Michelle's theory sounds reasonable.

Professor Rodriguez's viewpoint was also unanimously agreed upon by the professors.

Even if Michelle is incredibly talented, she's not as accomplished as these professors who have dedicated most of their lives to academia.

Grant, seizing the opportunity, stood up and tried to muddy the waters.

He flipped through Michel's earlier short stories and mocked the blank spaces in them.

"Listen to this, everyone. This theory is nothing more than him making excuses for his cheap, poorly written words."

"Because he couldn't write a grand narrative like Victor Hugo's, he could only fabricate an iceberg theory" to glorify himself.

"It's as ridiculous as a mediocre painter who can't paint hands claiming they're in his sleeve!"

Grant's analogy immediately drew laughter.

It seemed that Michelle was in a helpless situation.

Charlotte and Professor Joseph, sitting in the audience, were so anxious that their palms were almost sweating.

Professor Joseph couldn't stand it any longer.

He is prepared to take action personally.

However, despite the unfavorable situation, Michel on stage showed no panic or anger.

"Professor Rodriguez and Mr. Grant, would you mind participating in an experiment?"

"Let's conduct an experiment to prove which is more correct, your 'lighthouse theory' or my 'iceberg theory'!"

Michelle was not angry, nor did she rush to refute him. Instead, she invited Professor Rodriguez and Grant to participate in an "experiment".

"sure."

Professor Rodriguez shrugged; he didn't think a so-called "experiment" could be of any use.

Grant readily accepted.

"Next, we will use the 'lighthouse theory' and the 'iceberg theory' to describe a love story respectively."

"Mr. Grant, could you please read a passage from your written confession?"

"certainly."

Grant's eyes lit up when he heard this, and he shook his coat.

Then, in an exaggerated tone, he recited what he considered his best confession: "Oh! My love, as radiant as the dawn, as delicate as a rose! When I gaze into your deep, sapphire-blue eyes, my soul is swept away by the surging waves of love. Your hair, woven like golden threads, plucks the strings of my heart in the breeze. I swear, even if the seas dry up and the rocks crumble, even if the stars fall, my love for you, as fiery as a flame and as steadfast as a rock, will never diminish in the slightest. You are my life, my light, my eternal salvation..."

"Mr. Grant, is this what you mean by illuminating every corner? Every emotion is filled with adjectives, every pore is brimming with words?"

Michelle asked.

"Of course, what's the problem?"

Grant said there was no problem.

Meanwhile, the students below the stage let out a soft chuckle.

Such clichés do seem outdated and nauseating in a literature department.

Then, Michelle's smile faded, and her eyes became serious.

"Next, I will describe a scene of a couple reuniting at a train station after the war. The man is about to embark on a long journey, and both of them know that this is the last time they will see each other."

He gestured for silence and read the second paragraph in a voice that was almost a whisper, yet clearly audible.

This passage contains no modifiers.

Man: "I put that train ticket in your left pocket."

Woman: "Okay. Wrap your scarf tight, it's windy outside."

Man: "Are you alright?"

Woman: "I'm fine."

(Three seconds of silence)

Man: "Goodbye."

Woman: "Goodbye."

Michelle looked at the students below the stage, her voice gentle yet penetrating: "What did you see in the first paragraph?"

One of the bolder boys shouted, "Boring! It's like reading an expired, cheap greeting card!"

Michelle nodded, then asked, "So, in the second paragraph, what did you sense in the sentence 'I'm fine'?"

The auditorium fell into a deathly silence.

Everyone seemed to understand something, but no one dared to be the first to speak out.

Just then, Charlotte stood up.

Her voice trembled slightly, but every word was firm and resounding: "I felt a desperate restraint."

In that "I'm fine," I didn't hear peace of mind, but rather heartbreak, reluctance, and a sense of helplessness.

"They didn't say the word 'love,' but that left pocket and the scarf—they touched my heart more than Mr. Grant's thousand roses and sapphires."

"Professor, you're saying this is the author's laziness?" No. This use of space is a sign of respect for the reader. True pain doesn't need adjectives, because it's there, heavy as an iceberg, pressing on the heart of every reader.

"Thank you for your answer, ma'am."

Michelle nodded and gave Charlotte a gentle smile.

Ah, he smiled at me, he smiled at me!

Charlotte, already seated, felt a sweet warmth welling up inside her, as if she were filled with a sense of happiness.

Michelle turned to Grant and continued.

"Mr. Grant, the paleness of words lies not in their number, but in their ability to touch the reader's soul."

"You try to fill the reader's mind with cumbersome words, while I try to awaken the reader's entire universe with the seven-eighths of blank space."

Finally, Michelle turned to Professor Rodriguez, whose face was grim: "Professor, you say literature should illuminate every corner. But true art teaches readers to see in the dark."

Grant felt as if he had been slapped silently in the face; his proud "eloquence" seemed cheap and laughable at that moment.

Professor Rodriguez's "illumination theory," on the other hand, appears arrogant and rigid.

For a moment, the two were speechless.

What's right and what's wrong is clear at a glance.

Upon seeing this, the students in the audience completely lost their wavering, replaced by deep admiration for Michelle.

This young man, who is about the same age as them, has achieved in the field of literature what they could never reach in their entire lives!

Professor Rodriguez looked much older, and his previously upright posture suddenly collapsed.

He lost, utterly lost.

Although I don't want to admit it, the undeniable facts are right in front of me.

Although he was old-fashioned, he couldn't bring himself to distort the truth. He was completely defeated by Michel's talent.

Joseph actually found a diamond!

Professor Rodriguez couldn't help but feel a little envious of his old buddy who had been fighting with him all his life.

Rather than continuing to be stubborn, it would be better to take the initiative to make amends. After all, he's seen a lot in his life.

Young people with such talent are destined to leave their mark on history!

Just like Byron and Shelley, whom he had met when he was young.

Oh no, this young man's talent is even more outrageous than theirs.

Thinking of this, Professor Rodriguez felt as if the world before him had suddenly become much wider.

He stood up and started clapping.

He said slowly, "Mr. Michel, I acknowledge your talent."

"Literary history is destined to have a new page dedicated to you!"

Michelle: ? ? ?

Brother, I was wrong, please don't flatter me to death!