Fantasy Writers 1860

Chapter 87. The Spirit Pearl and Demon Orb Wreak Havoc in the Literary World (Seeking First Subscription)

"That's what a real writer should be like! Setting the agenda, attacking outsiders, not like that damned Mr. Hakimi, who's all about bullying his own people and always using his pen against them!"

Following this gentleman's exclamation, the others also quickened their reading pace, and the entire club became quiet except for the rustling sound of turning pages. The gentlemen who were just angry had calmed down considerably and immersed themselves in this short story.

"My God, this ending was so exciting—it's absolutely chilling!"

The old gentleman, who had almost lost his breath at first, had now recovered and, after reading the story, even showed a look of pity, as if he were witnessing a tragedy: "Poor Mrs. Mathilde, wasting ten years of her life for this fake necklace. Washing dishes, taking out the trash, fetching water, spending a whole decade like a servant—it's horrible to think about—"

"Vanity is harmful—but this is just the trend of Iris. We Britannia don't follow this kind of pretentious behavior. Simplicity and modesty are the aesthetics we uphold—" One of them elegantly lit a cigar, and white smoke began to fill the room.

Another gentleman standing by the sofa seemed to suddenly remember something and said, "That's right, Iris's vanity and extravagance drove a woman to the point of having to borrow jewelry. We Britannia would never do that."

"When my wife and I attend balls, we wear our cheapest clothes and don't wear any jewelry, yet we are still respected because we live in a civilized country that values ​​personal character!"

Now the gentlemen were all appeased, and their goodwill towards the author of the article, Dorian, increased dramatically. They all gathered around Mr. Bentley to inquire about Dorian's background, how he was so talented, and why they had never heard of him before.

"This is a new writer I discovered, and this is his first work," Bentley said with a smile, glossing over the details.

He thoroughly enjoyed the thrill of being so sought after.

He had finally found a way to join this club, and he was still relatively inexperienced. He wasn't very familiar with everyone, and hardly anyone paid any attention to this newcomer.

This time I finally found an opportunity to expand my network and network upwards.

"Congratulations, Mr. Bentley! You've struck gold!"

"When I get back, I'll let my other friends see this too, so everyone can read this great article!"

"This Mr. Dorian is truly a role model for our young writers! That article on irises might be right about one thing: we Britannia do need our own literary giant, but it's definitely not that damned Hakimi, but Mr. Dorian!" The crowd showered him with polite compliments.

After all, Bentley is the only one in the club who works in publishing, so there's not much competition between them, and a little commercial hype is fine.

No one read the magazines he brought anymore; after finishing "The Necklace," no one felt there could be a better story afterward.

This was actually a clever trick by Dickinson; she deliberately placed "The Cop and the Hymns" at the end of the magazine.

After all, this article is suspected of satirizing Britannia, and may not be enjoyable for everyone to read, but "The Necklace," a novel that satirizes the Iris Society, will certainly satisfy everyone.

As Britannians, who doesn't love black irises?

All I can say is about the century-old friendship.

Those who actually read the later article and realized it was a satire of Britannia tacitly avoided provoking trouble at this time, refraining from going against the public opinion. The few newspapers that did so were ultimately drowned out by the mainstream voice.

Soon, "The Necklace" caused a sensation in Londinion, partly in response to the Iris newspaper. Major newspapers flocked to it, reprinting and commenting on it, their praise almost overflowing:

[With a compassionate yet detached perspective, Mr. Dorian incisively exposes the nauseating vanity of the Iris-style high society. For a false symbol, they could squander ten years of their lives; how barren a soul truly lies beneath the "Iris-style elegance"?]

We have been pondering what kind of soil can nurture vanity, the most beautiful yet most vicious flower.

"The Necklace" provides a perfect answer: the Republic of the Iris. There, a woman's entire worth depends on her brilliance at the ball, for which she can gamble ten years of her youth—not just vanity, but an invisible shackle and corvée.

The so-called culture and glory of the Iris is built upon countless tragedies like these. What are those gentlemen and ladies, conversing loudly on the streets of Rutcia, wearing—a necklace or shackles?

[Let's compare! Both are from Lentinion, yet some authors only know how to eat their food and then curse its master, directing their attacks at the gentlemen who diligently built the empire; while Monsieur Dorian, he is a truly conscientious writer! He has ripped away the iris's superficial veneer!]

In an instant, the people of Lentinion were outraged, as if they had finally found ammunition to fight back. The sales of various newspapers that jumped on the bandwagon soared, long queues formed in front of newsstands, and even the taverns on the streets were buzzing with discussion about the novel.

The term "fake necklace" has become a trendy satirical term, and it even appeared in another parliamentary debate on environmental bills.

Soon, the necklace was translated into Iris and spread over there by a busybody, and a shattering sound even louder than that of Lentinion came from the café in Lutesia.

The Iris Man was furious.

This anger is exactly the same as the anger that the Britannians had shown before.

If this article had been written by an Iris Party member, they might have touted it as a "self-correction of the republican system," "citizens' self-reflection," and "independent thinking and building a republic together."

However, the author of this article was a Britannian.

This changes the nature of the situation.

When family members criticize each other, it's considered "being good at criticism"; when outsiders criticize family members, it's considered "malicious insult."

"This is a shameful stain on our Iris Republic!"

The editor of *World Review* was furious in his office. Pointing at the translated article on "The Necklace" in the newspaper, he was flushed red: "On the surface, he's writing about a woman's tragedy, but in reality, he's satirizing the vanity of the entire Iris upper class! How malicious his intentions are!"

The reaction from *La Debate* was even more vehement, with a dedicated article rebuking them: "The Britannians seem to have forgotten their history. While our Iris women sacrifice ten years of their youth for a fake necklace, Britannian women are selling their daughters to eighty-year-old noblemen for a bargain marriage. Their marriages are already entirely governed by capital; isn't that far more cruel than a necklace?"

Others attempted to critique the novel from a rational and objective perspective: "Excellent literary works should reveal the universal human predicament, not become tools for attack! 'The Necklace' may be artistically passable, but it has been used by the Britannians as a tool for verbal violence! How tragic!"

Some radical newspapers even published editorials stating: "We suggest that Britannians mind their own business. Aren't your child laborers, slums, and workhouses worth writing about? Unfortunately, among contemporary Britannian writers, only Mr. Hakimi has the courage to confront his own ugliness, and only he can be called a true writer!"

The war of words between the people of the two countries is getting more and more heated, with both sides exchanging barbs at each other's newspapers across the strait, and various commentaries flying back and forth like snowflakes.

In fact, such things are not uncommon for the people of both countries; they happen every now and then for some inexplicable reason.

All I can say is about the century-old friendship.

Just as this war of words was raging, someone noticed a very interesting phenomenon:

In the eyes of the Britannians, Dorian was a spirit pearl, a hero who crushed the arrogance of the Iris, and a rising star in the literary world; Mr. Hakimi was a demon pill, a traitorous lackey who betrayed his country, a traitor who turned against his own and handed knives to outsiders.

In the eyes of the Iris people, Mr. Hakimi is a Spirit Pearl, a realist master who dares to expose the dark truth of Britannia, the only clear stream in Britannia, and possesses a noble critical spirit; Dorian is a Demon Orb, a clumsy writer full of prejudice against the Iris.

They're truly a pair of smiling tigers, two black sharks.

Meanwhile, Dorian, who had caused all this commotion, was sitting in a coffee shop, opposite his old acquaintance, editor-in-chief Clancy.

>