The first reader was a young university student.
He practically rushed up to Zola, so excited he could barely speak:
"Monsieur Zola! I... I like you so much! I love all your novels!"
Zola solemnly took Soirées de Médan from his hand, signed his name on the flyleaf, and, uncharacteristically, asked kindly,
"What's your name, young man?"
"Jean... Jean-Pierre, sir!"
"To the brave Jean-Pierre, may the light of literature endure forever. Émile Zola."
Zola wrote the inscription, and the university student took the book, as if it were a treasure, blushing deeply as he bowed and left.
Next was Maupassant's turn.
A plump lady squeezed to the table, excitedly telling Maupassant,
"Monsieur Maupassant! Boule de Suif made me cry my handkerchief wet! Those hypocritical people! The poor girl!"
Maupassant signed elegantly and quipped,
"Madam, your tears are the best praise for my story. I hope it hasn't made you lose faith in all 'decent people'." Laughter erupted around them after he finished speaking.
A long queue also formed in front of Lionel.
Many people came for his reputation as "the Conscience of the Sorbonne" and the impact of Père Milon.
"Père Milon... Heavens, I couldn't sleep well last night; the old man's smile kept appearing before my eyes."
"Sir, are you really as young as the newspapers say?"
Lionel patiently signed each book, exchanged brief words, his manner calm and sincere.
...
The signing event lasted a full eight hours, with only a half-hour break in between.
The writers returned to the second floor of "Charpentier's Bookshop," where coffee and pastries were already prepared, and Charpentier had even opened several bottles of fine wine! Pot after pot of tea was refilled on the long table.
The writers' wrists began to ache, but their enthusiasm showed no signs of diminishing.
They heard countless sincere compliments and answered many peculiar or profound questions.
For the first time, they so clearly felt the impact of their words; this direct feedback was something no newspaper review could provide.
During this time, a small incident occurred.
A young man finally made it to the table.
He placed a copy of Soirées de Médan in front of Zola and, speaking in heavily accented French, excitedly said:
"Monsieur Zola! I've finally met you! I came all the way from Moscow, a journey of three full days! Just to see you in person and get your autograph!"
Not just him, Lionel also encountered readers who had traveled from London, Vienna, and even Berlin.
The impact of this long queue had already extended beyond Paris, spreading throughout Europe.
When the signing event finally drew to a close at 6 PM, everyone was exhausted, but their faces glowed with excitement and satisfaction.
Preliminary estimates showed that over 5,000 copies of Soirées de Médan were signed and sold within eight hours! This figure does not include the copies sold normally within the bookstore.
Georges Charpentier looked at the warehouse, which was almost emptied and constantly being restocked, smiling so widely his mouth wouldn't close.
Zola took the glass of water offered by his assistant and drank a large gulp.
Watching the gradually dispersing but still excitedly chattering crowd, he remarked to Lionel beside him,
"Lion, I think... you were right. This is indeed different from the salon; it's a... completely new kind of power. I've never felt so close to my readers."
His previous indifference had long been replaced by a subtle sense of intoxication.
The feeling of being the center of attention, especially from sincere readers, was enough to move any proud heart.
Maupassant rubbed his aching wrist, leaned over, and said with a grin,
"Though I'm dog-tired, it feels pretty good! Especially the gaze of those beautiful ladies... Lion, your idea was brilliant!"
Lionel looked at the complex expressions on his companions' faces, a mix of fatigue, excitement, and a sense of accomplishment, and knew that the relationship between literature and the public might enter a new phase starting today.
------
Just as Lionel had anticipated, the groundbreaking signing event by the "Médan Seven" immediately became front-page news for all Parisian newspapers, which competed to report on it.
Public opinion quickly diverged, sparking a major debate about the identity of writers, the value of literature, and commercial marketing.
Those who praised it called the event a populist move, even a victory for literary democracy.
Le Figaro reported with a striking headline: "Literature Enters the Crowd: Médan Writers' Groundbreaking Signing Event Shakes Europe":
[Yesterday, "Charpentier's Bookshop" witnessed a deeply moving scene.
Zola, Maupassant, Sorel, and five other outstanding writers bravely stepped out of their private salons to engage in an eight-hour face-to-face interaction with their loyal readers.
This was not flattery, nor vulgar commercialism, but the most vivid embodiment of the republican spirit in the realm of literature!
It marked the arrival of an era where literature truly belongs to the people!]
La République's commentary was even more impassioned, its headline brimming with fighting spirit:
"Crushing Elitism! The Médan Seven Declare War on the Old Literary Order with Their Signatures!":
[When Monsieur Zola signed for a worker, when Monsieur Maupassant conversed with a shop girl, when Monsieur Sorel received tributes from distant visitors, they were practicing the republican spirit!
This was the loudest slap in the face to those conservatives who still confined literature to aristocratic salons!
The long queue formed outside "Charpentier's Bookshop" was the people's ballot, proclaiming the complete triumph of progressive ideals!]
Where there was praise, there was also criticism.
Many newspapers and commentators attacked the event as vulgar and commercial, deeming it an insult to literary refinement.
The conservative Le Journal des débats's headline was full of sarcasm: "Writer or Salesman?":
[Since when did esteemed writers need to sit on the street hawking their products like department store promoters?
Literary creation is a sacred spiritual activity, requiring distance and mystery to maintain its authority.
Such widespread intimate contact with the public, even catering to their demand for autographs, undoubtedly vulgarizes and commercializes art.
The "Médan Seven" are more like seven clowns in a circus, performing at the publisher's command, using signatures to draw attention.
Of the people in line, how many truly understand the essence of literature?
This is the degradation of literature, clear evidence of the decline of Parisian cultural taste!]
Within just a few days, the debate swept through all Parisian newspapers and salons, causing the reputation of Soirées de Médan and the "Médan Seven" to spread at an explosive rate, far beyond the circle of literary enthusiasts.
Immediately thereafter, the threshold of "Charpentier's Bookshop" was practically worn out by representatives sent by booksellers from across the region.
Orders from Lyon, Marseille, and Bordeaux flew in like snowflakes, demanding an urgent reprinting of Soirées de Médan.
Georges Charpentier had no choice but to instruct the printing press to work tirelessly day and night.
Following this, even more astonishing invitations began to arrive for the writers, especially Zola and Lionel.
Hatchards, London's largest chain bookstore, sent a formal invitation, enthusiastically inviting all or at least the main members of the "Médan Seven" to visit London for a signing event.
They promised to provide first-class train and cabin ship tickets for travel between Paris and London, accommodation in a luxury London hotel, and to pay a considerable "appearance fee."
Hügels & Mann Publishers in Vienna were not to be outdone, inviting them to come, promising to arrange signing events, salon discussions, and even attendance at court concerts.
Several large bookstores in Saint Petersburg and Moscow jointly issued an invitation.
Although the journey was long, the remuneration offered was extremely generous, even exceeding that of the British.
Even bookstores in Berlin sent invitations...
When these invitations were brought to "Charpentier's Tuesday," they caused another sensation.
Maupassant, holding Hatchards' letter, excitedly exclaimed,
"God, London! I've always wanted to see it!"
Huysmans, meanwhile, yearned for Vienna:
"A court concert, tsk..."
Céard patted Lionel's shoulder:
"And Moscow! Lion, has your influence reached Russia already?"
Zola looked at the invitations on the table from Europe's major cultural capitals, his feelings complex.
On one hand, he enjoyed this unprecedented feeling of being sought after; on the other hand, his innate writer's aloofness made him maintain a degree of vigilance toward purely commercial activities.
But he had to admit that Lionel's "signing event" idea had indeed opened a door to a new world, bringing unexpected immense prestige and tangible benefits.
However, Lionel, faced with these invitations that offered both free travel and generous remuneration, showed an embarrassed smile to his friends in the salon:
"If everyone wants to go, could we delay it by a few days? I still have a script I haven't finished writing..."
(End of chapter)
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