"So, this time you're writing a play?" Maupassant asked Lionel curiously.
Lionel nodded: "Yes, a five-act play. From the current concept, it's roughly a light comedy."
It was 11 AM, and the two were in a small café on Rue Saint-Dominique in the 6th arrondissement of Paris.
Maupassant's Parisian residence was upstairs, with the Seine River winding nearby and a view of the Dôme des Invalides, making for quite a nice scene.
However, Maupassant's apartment, filled with male hormones and cheap perfume, was a collection of human health disasters and truly unsuitable for outsiders.
Only after Lionel's repeated insistence did he haphazardly pull on his clothes in a hangover and follow Lionel downstairs.
Lionel had two plans for his "cooperation" with the church, and the one he was discussing with Maupassant was the "best option."
Maupassant became excited: "Oh? That's great, Lionel! You're finally going into theater! Can you tell me what the story is about?
I think several of your novels—the old guard, letter from an unknown woman, and father milon, which you told at les soirées de médan last time... all are suitable for adaptation into plays. Ha, I think the old guard and father milon are the most suitable! One is poignant, the other is tragic and heroic!"
For French writers, the pinnacle of creation was nothing more than two things: becoming a poet or becoming a playwright.
Of course, a genius like Hugo could be both.
Poets were the darlings of the court, salons, and noble ladies, while playwrights were an important step on the road to wealth.
Every time a play they wrote was performed in a theater, playwrights could receive a 2% to 10% share of the box office revenue.
Alexandre Dumas, fils and his father both focused on adapting their works into plays after succeeding with novels—Alexandre Dumas, fils later even became a dedicated playwright.
Lionel shook his head: "Neither, this time I want to write a brand new story—but I haven't fully thought it through yet, and I also need some help.
By the way, speaking of father milon... why hasn't our collection, 'Charpentier's Bookshelves,' from les soirées de médan been published yet?
That's not like Mr. Charpentier!"
Maupassant's old face flushed, and he stammered: "My dumpling... I haven't given it to him yet... I swear to God, I've been trying very hard!
But from an oral story to a novel, I found that I had too many things to add... I work during the day, and I rarely have free time at night..."
Lionel was speechless.
Two and a half months had passed since les soirées de médan in early July, and he had sent father milon to Mr. Zola in early August.
Maupassant still hadn't finished his dumpling... Looking at his haggard friend, he sighed: "Guy, this is a good opportunity, you must cherish it. Among the seven stories, yours is the best!"
Faced with encouragement, Maupassant hastily replied: "Okay, okay, I'll do it as soon as possible. At the latest, I'll give the manuscript to Émile early next month.
Let's get back to your play—what do you need me to do for you?"
Lionel took a sip of coffee and smiled: "I hope this play can be performed at the Comédie-Française."
Maupassant's eyes lit up: "Ha, the Comédie-Française? Lionel, your ambition is great! You want your first work to be performed at the Comédie-Française!
Émile Perrin's demands are always strict; almost no 'newcomer' can win his favor!"
Émile Perrin was the director of the Comédie-Française, and also a well-known painter and critic.
Maupassant had once submitted his play to Émile Perrin and received a rejection.
Lionel nodded: "I have to try—if it's rejected, then I'll try a less famous theater.
I don't think I'm that bad; some theater will eventually want my script."
Maupassant then looked confused: "So..."
Lionel waved his hand: "I want to finish this play as soon as possible, and my strength alone is far from enough—
Especially the music part, I need a talented musician who is willing to humble himself and work with me to compose the music in the shortest possible time."
Theater of this era had not yet completely escaped the influence of opera; even pure dramas primarily based on dialogue still contained a large number of musical elements.
For example, incorporating "chorus" performances or background music during the prologue and scene changes; certain characters might need to sing solos when expressing emotions.
And Lionel wanted to write a "light comedy," which would even more require music to set the atmosphere.
Typically, after a playwright finished a script, they would give it to a musician to compose the music.
However, this process was very long—talented musicians often had a large number of play scoring orders, and newcomers might have to wait six months or even a year.
Maupassant asked curiously: "When do you plan to submit the script to Émile Perrin?"
Lionel considered for a moment before answering: "I hope to complete the play by November, then submit it to the Comédie-Française and spend a month and a half rehearsing.
If all goes well, it could be performed during the Christmas holidays."
Maupassant was so shocked he almost jumped out of his chair: "Are you crazy? Or am I hallucinating? Damn it, Lionel, did you get syphilis too?
It's late September, and a new play that hasn't even been written yet wants to be performed at Christmas; that would be difficult even if Mr. Hugo wrote it!"
Lionel shook his head: "I'm not crazy, you didn't mishear—and I certainly don't have syphilis!"
Maupassant smacked his lips, a look of regret on his face: "Lionel, your biggest problem is that you haven't gotten syphilis, which limits your imagination..."
Lionel: "..."
Fortunately, Maupassant didn't dwell on the topic and began counting on his fingers: "Even if you can finish the script by November—
It first needs to be submitted to the Comédie-Française for review, which will take at least 2 weeks; then it also needs to be submitted to the police station's 'Culture Department' for review, which will also take at least 2 weeks.
Then comes actor rehearsals, and a five-act play requires at least 4 to 6 weeks—are you still saying you're not crazy?
You know, the Comédie-Française might have already set its program for Christmas!"
Lionel smiled: "People at the Comédie-Française and the police department will help me sort it out... but I have to ensure the performance quality, so that musician is very important."
Although Maupassant didn't know Lionel's confidence, since he said so, as a friend, he could only support him.
Maupassant still had a question: "Why not ask Émile, and also the teacher? They know more musicians..."
Lionel patiently explained: "Émile and Mr. Flaubert only know famous people; where would they have time to spare a month for me?
What I need is a talented musician who hasn't yet become famous—Guy, you know the most people like that!"
Maupassant: "..."
Lionel continued to add incentives: "You can tell him that I am willing to pay generously for this. For example... 200 francs a month, or even more.
As long as he dedicates himself to me throughout October!"
Hearing 200 francs a month, Maupassant's mouth watered; he wished he could take on the job himself.
He readily agreed: "Money makes things easy! No problem, leave it to me!"
— — — —
Maupassant's efficiency was quick.
The next day, he wrote to Lionel, inviting him to meet at the café downstairs from his home.
When Lionel arrived at the café, he saw Maupassant chatting with a tall, thin young man, and couldn't help but frown.
He wanted a talented, down-on-his-luck musician, not a greenhorn.
But since he was already there, he could only brace himself and walk over to greet the two.
Maupassant pulled the young man in front of Lionel: "This is the person you're looking for, Leon. I found him in the 'Rose Workshop' in the seventh arrondissement..."
Lionel's brows furrowed: "A brothel?"
Before Maupassant could explain, the young man blushed and hurriedly explained: "Mr. Sorel, I was playing the piano there to earn some pocket money..."
Lionel remained skeptical but didn't press further: "Oh... what's your name?"
The young man pursed his lips and clearly stated his name: "Debussy, sir, Achille-Claude Debussy."