America 1929: John F. Kennedy, the Great Writer

Several people sat around the fireplace, the aroma of tea wafting through the air.

Lippmann retook the conversation, turning to Ralph Pritz:

"Ralph, what do you see as the value of this kind of satirical, almost literary political commentary? It is, after all, different from a rigorous investigative report or editorial."

Ralph Pritz paused for a moment.

"Walter, the value of journalism lies in revealing the truth and serving the public. It can take many forms. Lincoln's Gettysburg Address is both a political document and a literary masterpiece. Dickens' novels changed England's Poor Laws."

"Mr. Kennedy's article, through fictional dramatic exaggeration, highlights certain absurdities that truly exist in our society, allowing people to resonate and express themselves. Isn't this a form of public service?"

He looked at Arthur:

"More importantly, it gives the ruled a momentary psychological advantage through laughter. This is very beneficial for maintaining the critical spirit of a healthy society. When my father was running a newspaper, he often used scathing satirical cartoons and essays. Sometimes, power is hidden behind the dagger of humor."

Mrs. Swoop nodded:

"I completely agree. And it spreads in a different way. Workers talk about Humphrey in bars, housewives quote him in the kitchen. It penetrates corners that serious editorials can't reach."

"My maid asked me yesterday if all government 'committees' were just a way to stall for time. I didn't know how to answer for a moment."

Lippmann nodded slightly, seemingly moved by this real-life example.

"Penetration...that's definitely an angle I hadn't fully considered. My readership is relatively stable."

"Your influence lies in its depth and breadth, Walter."

Elizabeth poured him some tea.

"Arthur and his team's influence lies in its breadth and speed. In this rapidly changing era, we need all kinds of weapons."

The topic then shifted to a broader historical context.

Lippmann discussed the stalemate and confusion in Washington, and President Hoover's predicament and the powerlessness of idealism in the face of harsh reality.

Ralph Pritzker, on the other hand, is worried about the survival of the newspaper industry during the economic downturn. GG's revenue has plummeted, many tabloids may go bankrupt, and a homogenization of voices would be a disaster for democracy.

Elizabeth shared the most immediate anxieties from her show's listeners:

The struggles of families whose husbands have lost their jobs, the despair after their small savings evaporate, and the distrust of the seemingly endless promise of municipal welfare. They don't care about abstract economic data; they only care about where the money for their children's milk will come from tomorrow.

Arthur listened most of the time. He sensed the knowledge, power, social networks, and moral responsibility that converged in the room.

They represent the class within the American social structure who still attempt to think rationally, take responsibility, and are willing to provide protection for certain values.

This was so different from the anger he felt on the streets of Brooklyn and the despair he read in the editorial office letters, yet it was closely connected to the same crisis.

The tea party was drawing to a close.

Before Ralph Pritz got up to leave, he took a business card from his inner pocket and handed it to Arthur.

"The doors of Columbia University's Graduate School of Journalism are open not only to students, but also to all colleagues who are committed to the mission of journalism."

"If you encounter any technical difficulties during the publishing process that go beyond the scope of ordinary editing, feel free to make this call. Some friends in the academy may be able to offer some advice and help clarify the path forward."

The implicit promise in these words is more powerful than any direct guarantee.

Arthur accepted the business card with both hands and thanked him sincerely.

"Thank you very much, Mr. Pritzker. This is very significant."

Lippmann also shook hands with Arthur.

"Looking forward to your next piece, Mr. Kennedy. Remember, laughter is a weapon, but don't let it be the only weapon. What the public ultimately needs is understanding, not just deconstruction."

"I will remember that, Mr. Lippmann."

Mrs. Swoop then said to Isabella:

"Darling, if you need anything, just let Elizabeth contact me. Our circle, though sometimes old-fashioned, at least understands that there are certain bottom lines that must be upheld."

After the guests left, only Elizabeth, Arthur, and Isabella remained in the living room. The fireplace crackled.

Elizabeth sat down again and rubbed her temples.

"How are they? Are these safe havens sturdy enough?"

Isabella was so moved she didn't know what to say:

"Aunt... I didn't know you had done so much for us."

"Silly child, I'm not doing this just for you." Elizabeth smiled.

"It's also for my own sake. The reason my show exists is because there are still many people who believe that the media should challenge authority, not pander to power. If I stand by and watch your small voices be easily silenced, what's the point of my microphone?"

She looked at Arthur:

"Take only half of what Walter says into consideration. His path is a dam of reason, your path is a ditch of emotion. Both are ways to combat chaos and injustice; there is no superiority or inferiority, only differences."

"As for Pritz... you should know that his father is Hearst's role model and enemy. Associating with him will only bring you benefits."

Arthur nodded deeply.

"Ms. Elizabeth, I don't know how to thank you enough."

Elizabeth waved her hand:

"Your way of thanking me is to continue writing articles worthy of being brought to tea parties like this. Now, it's getting late, let the driver take you home. Isabella, please give my regards to your mother."

Sitting in the car on the way back, Arthur looked at the New York nightscape rushing past the window, his heart filled with emotion. He looked at Isabella's profile and said softly:

"It seems we're not fighting alone. After today, I feel much more confident."

Isabella was so tired she could barely keep her eyes open, but a smile played on her lips.

"Never, Arthur. It's just that now we truly see who's behind us."

A short while later, they arrived at the newspaper office.

Arthur placed the second installment of his "Yes, Mayor" series, which he had written in advance, on Isabella's desk.

Isabella took the stack of papers, looked at the first page, and saw the title: "Yes, Mayor: Economist".

Another novel title, perfectly in line with current hot topics.

She didn't read it immediately, but instead poured two cups of hot coffee for Arthur and herself.

"Let me try to stay alert. After meeting those important figures, I feel even more pressured."

Arthur took the coffee and smiled:

"The pressure has always been there. But now we know that, at least in certain circles, what we write is taken seriously and even anticipated. That's more important than anything else."

Isabella then sat down and began reading the manuscript.