"Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed Madame Marcela de Peña—when speaking of the unique and unrestrained young people in Paris, one cannot fail to mention that Sorbonne student, Lionel Sorel!
Lionel Sorel, from the Alps, poor, wearing a coat with worn-out elbows, riding a public coach for only 5 sous a trip each day, living in the odorous Eleventh Arrondissement, yet forever indomitable!"
Maupassant stood in the center of Baroness Peña's mansion living room, waving his arms, narrating with rhythmic emphasis.
Above him was a velvet-covered ceiling, from the center of which hung a giant brass chandelier—though its candles merely added to the ambiance; the true illumination came from the large gas crystal lamps in the four corners of the room.
The gods in the wall murals seemed to whisper with their expressions and faces; within gold Baroque frames of various sizes were the visages of the masters of this household's ancestors; long windows were half-closed, draped with exquisite Chinese red silk curtains adorned with phoenix-tail flower embroidery, the handiwork of top Suzhou embroiderers.
The mistress of the salon—Baroness Marcela de Peña—was dressed in a deep blue velvet evening gown, adorned with silver fringe, seated in a high-backed chair by the fireplace, holding an ivory-handled feather fan in her right hand, its leaves slowly opening and closing.
A subtle curve perpetually graced her lips, neither intimate nor distant, as if waiting for a statement weighty enough to merit her nod.
Four or five young men surrounded Baroness Peña—some looking decadent with vacant eyes; some with ardent gazes full of admiration; others leaning slightly forward, as if ready to listen to her every utterance.
Meanwhile, in another corner of the living room, several accompanying ladies sat around a tea table; some sipped absinthe, others, wearing gloves, perused the newly published Le Figaro.
They occasionally whispered about whose daughter had married into a banking family, or whose footman had recently gotten into a fight at the market...
Maupassant was undoubtedly the center of attention in the room at that moment.
He paced back and forth in the center of the living room, his face flushed, his voice booming:
"...This very Monday, in the early morning, while the idlers of Paris were still curled up in their warm beds, he will stand before the judgment seat of the Sorbonne, subjected to an interrogation as cold and ruthless as a sword!"
"Oh?"
Baroness Peña became intrigued and suddenly asked,
"Last week... no, the week before last, didn't 'Poor Lionel' reconcile with Professor Hippolyte Taine?
Why would the Sorbonne still interrogate him?"
Maupassant paused, startled.
Which version of the 'Legend of Poor Lionel' was this?
He had never heard of it.
However, as the future 'King of the Short Story,' Maupassant quickly steered the narrative:
"It wasn't because of Professor Hippolyte Taine,
But rather...
But rather..."
He tried to recall the scattered fragments he had heard at Mallarmé's salon on Tuesday, but Mallarmé's voice was inherently languid and indistinct, and there was a young man playing the piano at the time, so he only remembered a few keywords.
But even just a few keywords were enough for Maupassant to improvise.
He quickly clarified his thoughts, and his voice regained its confidence:
"It's rather Mr. Victor Hugo, who wants to 'meet' this audacious young man who dares to challenge academic authority!"
The name 'Victor Hugo' appearing at the salon finally made the men who had been solely focused on the Baroness turn their gaze towards Maupassant.
One of them let out a sharp scoff:
"Guy, shouldn't your novels be published in Le Figaro?
How did they end up here?
Mr. Victor Hugo going to the Sorbonne to interrogate an Alpine bumpkin?
You might as well concoct a story about His Majesty Napoleon resurrecting to lead his Imperial Guard to occupy Berlin!'"
Maupassant also grew annoyed.
He retorted with firm conviction:
"No, precisely because he is willing to come to the Sorbonne to witness the rise of a poor young man, that is why he is Victor Hugo! Not a snobbish fool!"
The young man, angered by the retort, sprang from his seat, but was immediately pressed back down by a glance from the Baroness, only able to turn his head away in a huff.
Baroness Peña was clearly very interested in the new story Maupassant brought regarding 'Poor Lionel':
"Continue, Guy."
Encouraged, Maupassant continued to elaborate on the fragmented, secondhand information he had heard from Stéphane Mallarmé, using his bold imagination to weave it into a new legend for Lionel.
In this episode of his short play, Lionel leapt onto a table and, with righteous indignation, furiously denounced the Sorbonne's rigid administrative system, its outdated curriculum, and the pervasive culture of ostentation that permeated the entire university!
Both the rector of the Sorbonne and the professors present were utterly captivated by the young man's audacity and eloquence.
Mr. Victor Hugo, after Lionel's speech, clasped his hands tightly and declared to everyone present:
"Suppressing and humiliating talented young people is a debt owed by the Sorbonne, and by France!
Gentlemen! Remember this debt.
Only by remembering can we deserve a future!'"
Maupassant's final statement was powerful and resonant, striking awe into everyone present at the salon—such a grand, bell-like pronouncement truly resembled Mr. Hugo's oratorical style!
Good heavens, Mr. Hugo actually believed the Sorbonne and France owed Lionel! What incredibly high praise!
Baroness Peña's eyes shimmered with emotion:
"Oh, my goodness, I never imagined that 'Poor Lionel' could move Mr. Hugo so deeply!
It should not happen on the soil of our France that such a talented young man languishes in poverty!
Guy, next time, could you bring 'Poor Lionel' to my salon?"
Only then did Maupassant realize he had perhaps overplayed his hand; Baroness Peña seemed more interested in Lionel than in him.
He quickly added:
"Your kindness brings glory to all of Paris!
However, Lionel is currently working on a masterpiece that will be published in the next issue of the Sorbonne Academy Bulletin, so he has no time for salons; moreover, Lionel has, after all, never attended such a grand event before...'"
Hearing this, Baroness Peña could only nod regretfully: "A masterpiece? I can hardly wait..."
Maupassant wiped a bead of cold sweat from his brow.
Seeing the Baroness in high spirits, he cautiously and earnestly leaned closer to her, saying in a humble tone,
"Dear Marcela, my play, Tales of Old, is set to premiere at the Ballande Theatre on the 19th of this month...
If you would condescend to attend, it would be an honor for me, the theatre, all the actors, and the audience...'"
Hearing this, the Baroness gave him a half-smile, half-frown glance and lazily asked,
"How much more sponsorship do you need?"
---
The story of 'Poor Lionel' and Mr. Hugo quickly spread throughout the noblewomen's salons of Paris, and even reached the gatherings of pure artists.
The masterpiece that 'Poor Lionel' was currently creating also became the focus of these noblewomen's attention—and the March issue of the Sorbonne Academy Bulletin that would feature it was even more highly anticipated.
Professor Gaston Boissier felt his scalp tingle upon seeing the large stack of new subscription lists on his table.
(End of Chapter)
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