Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 568 "Titan," Set Sail! (Bonus Chapter 2)

Lionel Sorrell was in his hospital room at St. Thomas' Hospital, holding an official letter from the British Home Office.

To Mr. Lionel Sorel:
Given your repeated unauthorized entry into the territory of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, it has been decided, in accordance with applicable laws, to deport you.

You must leave the United Kingdom within seven days of receiving this notice. Thereafter, you will be barred from entering the United Kingdom and all British overseas colonies and protectorates.

If you fail to leave the country by the deadline, the police will take coercive measures in accordance with the law.

He was not surprised by the expulsion order. He had already read the news in the newspapers and heard about the discussions from Zola and Maupassant.

Maupassant indignantly remarked: "They want to blame everything on you. The Egyptians and Indians rebelled because of British colonization and oppression—"

But what does all this have to do with you?

Lionel put down his newspaper without saying a word.

These rebellions and upheavals were indeed rooted in the British Empire's colonial policies, the awakening of nationalism in various regions, and the changes in the global political landscape at the end of the nineteenth century.

His novels, at best, served as a catalyst, providing these rebels with a villainous symbol that could unite people.

But the power of symbols sometimes exceeds Lionel’s imagination, and even far exceeds it.

The "Big Brother" in the original "1984" is a metaphor for totalitarianism and a critique of the alienation of power. Its publication shocked countries around the world.

Countries that actively identified themselves with the book and banned its publication included not only the Soviet Union and Eastern European countries, but also Spain under Franco, Portugal under Salazar, Greece under military government, and Chile under Pinochet.

In addition, there are the Israeli-occupied West Bank and Gaza, as well as Iowa, Florida, Texas and other areas in the United States.

Although Britain did not publicly ban "1984," public libraries at the time refused to purchase the book, and the BBC repeatedly refused to adapt it for broadcast.

Furthermore, in British Malaya, British Kenya, and British Cyprus, 1984 was informally banned or its distribution was restricted.

In 1882, this symbol was transformed into "Old Lady," which unexpectedly unleashed a far more terrifying power than the original.

Looking back now, it's understandable, because at that time, the British Empire's colonial rule was at its peak.

For the colonized, "Old Lady" was not a metaphor; she was present in the governor's house, the police station, the tax office, and the barracks.

The 1949 film 1984 was telling people: "This is what the future might look like."

The 1882 film *1984* says, "You are right here."

Lionel did not expect things to turn out this way, but he could not deny that it had indeed happened.

Sophie entered the ward and, having also learned about the eviction order, looked rather grim: "Your leg isn't fully healed yet; you'll need to rest for another two weeks before you can travel long distances."

The train is so bumpy, your wound might reopen.

Lionel didn't seem to care: "It's better to leave by train in the morning and arrive in Paris in the evening than to be escorted away by the police. Just prepare a thick mat for me."

He looked out the window. The sky was overcast; it was going to rain again. London winters were always like this: cold, damp, and devoid of sunshine.

He was about to leave. To leave this place where "1984" was banned, to leave the place where he was assassinated, to leave the place where the Queen was assassinated.

He recalled his first visit to London in 1880, when he came with an invitation from The Good Words.

Now, he was leaving. With the wound on his leg, with the cane that concealed the rapier, and with the order of expulsion.

On December 27, 1882, just after Christmas, the wards of St. Thomas' Hospital were deserted.

It wasn't snowing outside, but the temperature was very low, and the cold air seeped in through the cracks in the window.

Lionel recovered faster than expected and was already able to walk on his own. He slowly paced around the ward, leaning on the cane that Norman McLeod had given him.

My left leg is still a little sore, but it no longer affects my basic activities.

Sophie was packing. They didn't have much luggage, just a few clothes. Most of their belongings had already been delivered to the train station; they only needed to bring their personal items today.

Alice was helping too. She folded Lionel's hospital gown neatly and placed it on the chair. Her eyes were red; she had clearly been crying.

“Don’t be sad,” Lionel told her. “We’re going back to France, back to Paris. Our friends are there, our home is there.”

Alice nodded, but tears welled up again. She wasn't sad about leaving England; she was sad about Lionel's injury and everything she had gone through in the past few weeks.

Zola and Maupassant have arrived. Today they are going with Lionel to Charing Cross Station, from where they will take a train to Dover and then a ship to France.

“The train leaves at ten in the morning,” Zola said. “We have two hours.”

Lionel nodded. He checked the ward one last time to make sure nothing was missing, then put on his coat, hat, and cane.

Sophie took his other arm and helped him walk. Alice carried a small bag.

They walked out of the ward. The corridor was quiet; most patients had gone home for the holidays. Apart from the policeman guarding him, there were only a few nurses on duty.

At the stairwell, they encountered Dr. Joseph Lister, who was making his rounds from ward to ward, carrying a medical record book.

"Leaving already?" Dr. Lister asked. "Yes, leaving," Lionel said. "Thank you, doctor. Without you, I might..."

Dr. Lister waved his hand: "It's my duty. Besides, you're a good patient—the first patient to ask me if I've washed my hands."

He smiled, then said seriously, "The wound has basically healed, but you still need to be careful. Avoid strenuous exercise and prolonged walking for a month. If you experience redness, swelling, fever, or severe pain, see a doctor immediately."

"I've got it."

"Have a safe journey, Mr. Sorel."

Thank you. I wish you all the best.

The hospital lobby was also quiet. The police officers who were guarding the area looked relieved when they saw that Lionel was finally leaving.

But once you step outside the hospital, the situation is completely different.

A crowd had gathered outside the main entrance of St. Thomas' Hospital, including reporters, citizens, and workers. Police were maintaining order, keeping the crowd on the other side of the road.

As soon as Lionel emerged, reporters swarmed around him. Police tried to stop them, but couldn't stop their questions:

"Mr. Sorel! What are your thoughts on the deportation order?"

Do you believe the Queen's assassination was related to your work?

Will you come to England again?

What are your views on the Irish issue?

"Mr. Sorel! Look this way!"

Lionel stopped and looked at the reporters, the citizens, and the police.

Then he let go of Sophie's hand, took a step forward, and stood on the steps at the hospital entrance.

The crowd quieted down. Everyone looked at him, waiting for him to speak.

Lionel began, “First of all, I want to thank St. Thomas Hospital, Dr. Joseph Lister and his team. Without their treatment, I wouldn’t be standing here today.”

His disinfection philosophy, in particular, deserves to be promoted worldwide immediately!

At this point, he paused, the reporters somewhat puzzled as to why Lionel had suddenly started promoting disinfection concepts, but they listened patiently nonetheless.

Lionel then continued, "Secondly, regarding the findings of the British Home Office's investigation into my assassination attempt—that Jean-Pierre Rouvier attacked me out of personal hatred—I accept that conclusion."

He said the word "accept" in a flat tone, but everyone could hear the sarcasm in it.

"Just as I accept that Britain might ban me from entering the country because of a novel, prosecute civilians because of a few letters, or start a war because of a slogan."

At this point, Lionel raised his voice:

"Just as I accept that here, the law is the privilege of the respectable, justice is the game of the rich, and freedom is empty talk in the newspapers."

He looked around at the crowd, at the reporters, the citizens, and the police:
"I accept it all. Because this is the British Empire—"

An empire that allowed millions to starve, an empire that suppressed freedom in every colony, an empire that plundered resources from the entire world.
"What's so strange about an empire like this doing these things?"

The crowd fell completely silent. Even the reporters forgot to take notes, simply staring at him in disbelief.

Lionel continued, his tone regaining its composure:
"I'm leaving. I'm being deported and may never be allowed to come back. But I'm not sad."

He looked at the workers, and Lionel recognized a few faces—Old Jimmy, Sean O'Mara, Joe Harris…

"Because thoughts cannot drive them away; courage cannot drive them away; the desire for freedom, the pursuit of dignity, the belief in justice—none of these can drive them away."

He turned back to the reporter one last time: "I am about to leave Britain, and I hope that if I can come back here, you will have learned how to be a civilized country."

He finished speaking. Without waving or bowing, he simply turned and, with Sophie's help, slowly walked down the steps.

The carriage was waiting there. The driver opened the door, and Lionel got in, followed by Sophie and Alice. Zola and Maupassant got into another carriage.

The crowd parted automatically to make way. No one shouted, no one tried to stop them; they simply watched in silence as the carriage departed.

------------

London wanted Lionel Sorel to leave, while Paris longed for his return.

For two whole months, readers in Paris could only see their authors in the newspapers.

See how he testified for ordinary people, how he was arrested and imprisoned by the British, and how he was assassinated...

But what was unexpected was that his novel returned even before Lionel.

The first issue of *Modern Life* after Christmas featured a huge steamship on the cover, with the words "—" in large print.

Lionel Sorel's stunning new work! The Sinking of the Titans!
(Third update, please vote with monthly tickets!)
(End of this chapter)