Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 42 The Most Vicious Question

Lionel felt relieved upon hearing Paul Jannet's question.

This is a typical "technical issue" and does not involve moral judgment of the work or the author.

Lionel, instead of returning to his seat, stood facing the professors and Hugo, answering the question in a lighthearted tone: "Professor Jannet, Aristotle's Poetics is undoubtedly a great cornerstone."

But in novels, especially those reflecting modern life, can the tension of the 'plot' only exist in intense external conflicts?

In fact, by the mid-19th century, European novels had already shown a tendency to downplay plot. Especially after "Romanticism" was generally abandoned by most first-rate writers, literary concepts gradually shifted from "story is king" to "character-centric", "environmental determinism" and "psychological analysis".

Like Flaubert's Madame Bovary, although the core plot is "adultery", the narrative is very bland, even somewhat "anti-climax".

The love story in Turgenev's "A Nest of Gentlefolk" is not dramatic, and the love story between the protagonists Lavretsky and Lisa does not even end in marriage.

Paul Jannet's question was not a challenge, but rather an opportunity for Lionel to showcase himself.

Lionel, of course, wouldn't let it go: "The tragedy of the old guard's life lies not in a dramatic duel or conspiracy, but in the slow, day-to-day 'torture'—"

Oh, this is an ancient form of punishment originating from the Far East…

Lionel described the punishment of "death by a thousand cuts" in detail, but before he could finish, a professor in the audience let out a low retching sound.

For the French, who were accustomed to the swift and decisive execution on the guillotine, the medieval punishments similar to "death by a thousand cuts" had long been a distant memory. Lionel's explanation awakened their inner fears.

Gaston Boischer quickly reminded him, "Alright, we've learned about 'death by a thousand cuts,' let's continue with 'the old guard.'"

Lionel tactfully returned to the topic: "For the old guard, 'death by a thousand cuts' meant the erosion of dignity, the fading of memories, and the process of being gradually abandoned by France—the France he had loved and dedicated his life to."

Those fragmented scenes—every laugh, every argument about the 'loot,' every attempt to teach the young man how to handle the prey—even his act of laying down nine Sue coins, were like knives cutting into his soul.

Lionel's words sent chills down everyone's spines.

As members of the upper class, most of the Sorbonne professors came from well-off families, received at least 8000 francs a year in salary, frequented salons of nobles and wealthy merchants every night, owned at least one summer villa, and kept at least one mistress...

They may have deep sympathy for the underprivileged, understand the lives of the poor, and even speak out for their rights in newspapers or in Congress.

But they cannot comprehend the process of passing away like the "Old Guard," who became mired in the mire and ultimately perished in silence.

“Interesting. I just thought ‘The Old Guard’ was an excellent work, but I didn’t expect that after your explanation, it could reveal even deeper meanings.” A middle-aged man with a large mustache and a thick, short stubble on his chin spoke.

He had a thin face and deep eyes, exuding an elegant and reserved air.

Gaston Boischer quickly said, "Mr. Mallarmé, this is an internal inquiry at the Sorbonne. You are welcome to attend, but..."

“I don’t participate in the evaluation, but this student named Lionel’s interpretation of ‘The Old Guard’ has moved me. May I continue his words and say a few more words?” Mallarmé’s voice carried an indescribable languor and a touch of playfulness.

Gaston Boischer glanced at the poet who had made a name for himself in the French literary world with "The Afternoon of a Faun," and finally nodded: "Please, Mr. Stéphane Mallarmé." Stéphane Mallarmé smiled slightly and stood up: "I originally came to chat with Bachelard, but I didn't expect to see such a 'grand show'—what you just said about 'death by a thousand cuts' is very interesting, although it is very terrible."

But the soul of the 'Old Guard' is indeed being torn apart, slice by slice, by people's words, expressions, and attitudes in every scene in the novel where he appears. God, this is too cruel.

They accumulate and layer upon each other, ultimately leading to that figure walking with his hands in the cold winter, on the muddy ground—gentlemen, this is the greatest climax, a silent, cumulative destruction.

The 'plainness' of this structure is precisely to match the cruel 'mediocrity' of life itself! The tension in the novel does not disappear, but is internalized and permeates every seemingly ordinary moment!

This is not a failure of the experiment, dear Paul, but rather an expansion of the 'plot,' capturing the slow, silent decay of life in the passage of time!

As Stefan Mallarmé spoke, his sentences became increasingly poetic, and his voice became more and more melodious, as if he were reciting a poem.

After he finished speaking, he seemed to have lost all his strength and slumped back into his seat with a smile on his face, as if his desire to express himself had been satisfied.

Everyone, including Lionel: "..."

Letting the poet speak was indeed a mistake.

Gaston Boischer coughed quickly and then asked, "Does anyone else have any questions?"

The professors looked at each other and began to whisper among themselves.

A short while later, a rare, bearded professor raised his question: "Mr. Sorel, your description of the atmosphere of the Alpine tavern is very 'realistic,' and the details of the old guard are also very vivid."

However, based on our understanding, although you are from the Alps, your father's job would not have led you to work as a waiter in a tavern—since you were able to pass the high school exams and come to the Sorbonne, you probably don't have time to drown your sorrows in taverns.

How did you acquire such vivid knowledge, especially regarding the behavioral details of lower-class laborers? Where does this sense of 'realism' come from? Is it hearsay? Or a rich imagination? Or does it draw upon observations from more marginalized authors we haven't read before?

Upon hearing this, Lionel looked up and took a closer look at the other person. He saw that the professor was probably in his fifties, with an arrogant smile on his fat face and undisguised contempt in his eyes.

This question is the most pointed and malicious of all the questions raised tonight; it points in a direction that is difficult to prove.

Lionel had only seen this man occasionally at the Sorbonne, but had never taken his classes, so he asked, "May I ask who you are?"

The fat man raised his head: "Ernest Renan, if you're still at the Sorbonne next year, you'll be taking my class."

Lionel nodded and greeted him politely, "Good morning, Professor Renan, your question was truly brilliant!"

Ernest Renan was taken aback, not expecting Lionel to praise him.

But Lionel's next words immediately made him furious: "You believe that a person's knowledge is limited by their background, just as a person's mind does not become more generous with age, is that right?"

(End of this chapter)