"As expected…" Lionel chuckled, casually tossing Le Figaro's rejection letter onto the table, as if it were just a piece of waste paper blown in from the street.
The words on it were, of course, still polite and courteous, showing no hint of anger: [Does not meet the publication standards and consistent literary criticism stance of this newspaper]
He wasn't surprised in the least; in fact, he found it somewhat amusing.
His submission, a distillation of a century of debate from the era of newspapers to online forums, combined eloquence, sophistry, concept-swapping, theme elevation, emotional resonance, and even the seizing of the moral high ground. It was a complete "dimensional strike" against this era.
The Parisian literary scene of 1879 was accustomed to debates being either humble apologies or shrewish quarrels. This article was indeed too far ahead of its time.
Le Figaro's rejection was not just due to their weakness and arrogance, but also their inability to handle Lionel's almost all-encompassing intellectual dominance.
After all, Le Figaro couldn't just stand by and watch one of its most popular columnists be publicly humiliated.
Lionel picked up his article, his gaze focusing on the title—this title was prepared for Le Figaro, if they were willing to publish it.
Since they refused, it was too polite, too "academic."
Lionel's pen hovered above the manuscript. A moment later, with a hint of cruel satisfaction, he crossed out the original title.
—
The next morning, pedestrians in Paris noticed that the newsboys were exceptionally active today, and what they were hawking was not the cheap Le Petit Parisien or Le Petit Journal, but the slightly more expensive La République.
"Extra, extra! 'The Conscience of Sorbonne' Lionel officially declares war on Le Figaro!"
"Extra, extra! Lionel denounces Claretie as the true freak!"
"Extra, extra! La République accuses Le Figaro of being a media cancer!"
This made many people curious, stopping to spend 2 sous on a copy of the La République.
This newspaper belonged to the Hugo family, founded by Victor Hugo's two sons, Charles Hugo and François-Victor Hugo.
Unlike Le Figaro, which leaned towards conservative, upper-class tastes, the La République was a radical republican mouthpiece, often fiercely criticizing royalists and aristocratic culture, and frequently satirizing the high society gatherings and theatrical tastes promoted by Le Figaro.
Therefore, their differing viewpoints were common, but such direct confrontation was rare.
Immediately after, these hurried people slowed their pace, because they saw the large headline on the front page:
"From a 'Freak' of the Flesh to a 'Freak' of the Spirit—To Mr. Claretie, Columnist of Le Figaro"
Subsequently, this "refutation essay" written by Lionel elevated their understanding of writing to another dimension—it turned out that literary squabbles could have such unique angles!
Especially the frequent "golden phrases" within it, which refreshed people's understanding—
"Literature awakens the numb, humbles the proud, and makes the gentle smile."
"Each of us is a bastard of deformed history, bearing the birthmarks of the old regime and the scars of revolution, yet we must pretend to be reborn in the dawn of the Third Republic."
"Freaks do not create ugliness; they merely expose it."
"A freak is merely a line of poetry written wrong by fate; and love, with clumsy rhymes, sets it right."
…
Usually, it's quite rare for an article to have one or two memorable lines, but Lionel's article was practically a wholesale distribution of them.
His preview of the subsequent plot of the extraordinary adventures of benjamin button—"All Parisians will see that he will be abandoned in the novel, and then picked up again by love"—made all readers who had not yet read the novel involuntarily think:
Am I not a Parisian! Where is the extraordinary adventures of benjamin button?
And in the office of Le Petit Parisien, Paul Pigout was clutching the La République and laughing wildly: "Hahaha! 'From a 'Freak' of the Flesh to a 'Freak' of the Spirit'! Lionel is a devil! I love it!"
He immediately called his assistant and gave instructions: "Contact the La République immediately. We must get them to agree to let us reprint this article tomorrow! And put it alongside the latest serialization of Benjamin Button!"
—
The latest issue of Le Petit Parisien was published, and today, the serialization of the extraordinary adventures of benjamin button received unprecedented attention.
Whether ordinary citizens or the middle class, everyone noticed the feud between Lionel and Le Figaro, and their interest in the novel grew even stronger.
How should a baby "born old" face his life? How long can he live?
Driven by curiosity, people eagerly opened the "Literary Supplement" of Le Petit Parisien and voraciously read the latest serialization:
"While other abandoned infants in the nursery, following the iron law of nature, stretched, rounded, and made joyful cooing sounds like tender shoots sprouting in spring, Benjamin was undergoing a silent and startling transformation.
Old Sister Marcelle, who was in charge of him, her hands made exceptionally rough by prayer and toil, suddenly paused on his shriveled chest while wiping his body one day. Her cloudy eyes trembled slightly with shock—
Beneath the infant's loose, rag-like skin, there seemed to be… a very faint trace of the elasticity of young life?
At the roots of his sparse white hair, which had been tightly pressed against his scalp like withered autumn grass, a circle of soft, almost transparent pale golden down had quietly grown!
The strength with which he held her finger also increased, faintly but firmly.
Was this an illusion?
…
It was not an illusion.
Year after year, under Sister Marcelle's bewildered yet still loving gaze, Benjamin "progressed" in a slow, steady, and even God-defying manner.
When he was marked as "five years old" according to his year of admission, his appearance was that of a seventy-year-old man completely crushed by life, his face deeply etched with the ravages of time.
However, his eyes—those eyes that had once been as muddy as a swamp—began to gleam with a hint of a child's innocent curiosity, utterly out of place with his aged face.
He could lean against the cold wall, taking stumbling but "walking" steps, and the sounds from his throat were no longer death-like gasps, but indistinct yet real babbling.
…
By "ten years old," his figure was still stooped and small, but the deepest furrows on his face had miraculously been smoothed out considerably by time, and most of the stubborn age spots had faded.
His sparse white hair became thicker, interspersed with more and more gray and light brown, making him look like a sixty-year-old down-and-out old man.
He began to articulate simple words clearly and displayed an understanding that even Sister Marcelle secretly found astonishing.
He could quietly listen to lengthy Psalms, though his gaze often drifted past the stained-glass windows of the prayer room, towards the sky outside the high walls, a sky fragmented by the church's high walls and spires."
"So that's it!" Readers who reached this point suddenly realized, and the novel's second "selling point" also leaped off the page:
Benjamin Button was not only "born old," but also "grew in reverse."
This novel setting completely captivated all readers!