Mr. Dune did not have a teaching position, nor did he understand literature.
He only managed to serve as provost at the Sorbonne for many years simply because his name contained a "De".
However, with the aristocracy no longer in favor, he also had to act according to the dean's wishes—especially when Dean Henri Pâtin was very assertive.
After receiving Lionel's novel manuscript, he hurried to the editorial office of the Sorbonne Faculty of Letters journal.
At this time, the Sorbonne University was responsible for the editing and publication of three important academic journals: in addition to the monthly "Bulletin of the Faculty of Letters," there was also the annual "Annals of the Sorbonne Faculty of Letters," and the quarterly "Review of Public Education."
These were crucial strongholds for the Sorbonne to maintain its long-standing academic reputation, and thus were staffed by numerous talents.
Gaston Boissier, a Latin scholar and member of the Académie française, served as editor-in-chief, with review committee members including classical linguist and Greek expert Émile Egger, famous philosopher and ethics professor Paul Janet, and, of course, Hippolyte Taine.
When Dune arrived at the office, the main editorial board members, including Gaston Boissier, were all present.
They were discussing which works should be published in the "Bulletin of the Faculty of Letters" due out in early March.
Among the twelve annual issues of the Sorbonne's "Bulletin of the Faculty of Letters," the March issue was the most anticipated.
Because of the Sorbonne's tradition of holding a "Poetry Gathering" on the last weekend before Easter, the March issue of the "Bulletin of the Faculty of Letters" was purchased not only by scholars, university students, and literary enthusiasts, but also by nobles and wealthy merchants who enjoyed receiving invitations to the "Poetry Gathering" and liked to feign artistic refinement.
Everyone wanted to see the caliber of the young talents from the Sorbonne attending this year's "Poetry Gathering" and also to have topics to discuss at the event.
If they encountered a promising young person, these generous patrons of the arts would not hesitate to spend thousands of francs to publish their poetry collections or donate a considerable sum to the Sorbonne.
Therefore, the March issue of the "Bulletin of the Faculty of Letters" focused not only on the literary quality of the works but also considered readers' tastes, requiring special discussion; it usually needed to be published as a supplement, otherwise it couldn't accommodate everyone's works.
Seeing Dune enter, Gaston Boissier frowned.
He disliked this aristocratic academy bureaucrat, but superficial politeness was necessary:
"Good morning, Mr. Dune, what brings you to the editorial department?"
Dune was the provost, and his scope of work was unrelated to the journals published by the faculty; his appearance here was indeed a first.
Dune dared not display any aristocratic arrogance in front of these professors.
He pulled out Lionel's manuscript and cautiously said,
"This is a novel to be submitted to the journal, and I hope it can be published in the March issue."
Several editorial board members laughed.
Paul Janet said mockingly,
"When did our office mailbox get hung on the provost's office door? I don't recall receiving any notice."
Émile Egger also spoke sarcastically, without reservation:
"Mr. Dune, when did you start teaching students of the Faculty of Letters? I must apply to audit your classes."
Having spent over a decade in the faculty, Dune knew full well the professors' sharp tongues, so his expression remained unchanged, and his tone was still the same:
"I apologize, I didn't make myself clear just now.
It's the dean, the dean hopes this manuscript can appear in the March issue of the 'Bulletin'—of course, if its quality is truly unsatisfactory, please also provide suggestions for revision, and I will urge this student to revise it."
This statement made the editorial board members drop their mocking expressions.
They had initially thought Provost Dune had lost his mind, believing he could interfere with the editing of the university journal, but they hadn't expected it was at the behest of Dean Professor Henri Pâtin.
Gaston Boissier, being more experienced, knew that there must be something peculiar if Henri Pâtin wasn't willing to come forward himself.
So he asked Dune to leave the manuscript, saying he would discuss it with the others after they had read it.
Dune bowed to Gaston Boissier in thanks, left the manuscript, and departed.
As the door to the editorial office closed, Gaston Boissier, under the curious gaze of the others, picked up the manuscript before him and unconsciously read out the title and author's name:
"'The Old Guard,' Lionel Sorel, second year, Faculty of Letters."
Hearing the name, the others didn't immediately react, but Professor Hippolyte Taine slammed his fist on the table:
"It's him? It really is him!"
The loud thud and Professor Taine's agitated reaction startled everyone, wondering why his reaction was so strong.
Professor Hippolyte Taine gnashed his teeth and said,
"Henri specifically asked me about his situation before, and I've already stated my position—Lionel Sorel is a showy, despicable scoundrel who slanders others' reputations to elevate himself!
His work must not be selected for the 'Bulletin'! We must not allow such a person's work to defile the sacred academic halls of the Sorbonne for a small sponsorship!"
Now the other editorial board members were even more baffled.
"Showy," "despicable," "slanders others' reputations to elevate himself," "scoundrel"—were these words appropriate for a student only in his early twenties?
Gaston Boissier quickly appeased his old colleague:
"My dear Hippolyte, we haven't made a decision yet, no need to be so agitated."
Then he thought back carefully, realizing he didn't seem to have heard of any scandal involving a student named Lionel Sorel.
In his impression, apart from being poor, Lionel was just an ordinary Sorbonne student.
Émile Egger asked curiously,
"What exactly did this student named Lionel do?"
Hippolyte Taine haughtily turned his head away, unwilling to offer any further explanation.
It was Paul Janet who pondered for a long time, holding his forehead, then suddenly exclaimed in realization,
"So that's what it is..."
Seeing everyone's gaze fixed on him, Paul Janet gave an embarrassed smile:
"I recalled an anecdote I heard recently at Madame Fresnel's salon, which seems to be related to Lionel..."
Noticing the glint of gossip in everyone's eyes, Paul Janet turned to Hippolyte Taine:
"Hippolyte, may I speak?"
Hippolyte Taine knew that without an explanation, he couldn't convince the others; but it would be too undignified for him, as the person involved, to explain some of the details himself, so he could only nod helplessly.
Paul Janet then felt reassured and began to recount in a tone as calm, objective, and devoid of jest as possible:
"Recently, in the salons of Paris, there's been talk about a student at the Sorbonne named Lionel, who defied a professor who was reprimanding him..."
Gaston Boissier looked at him, then at Taine, a little puzzled:
"Just defied him? That doesn't seem too serious, does it?"
Hippolyte Taine grunted, and Paul Janet sighed, continuing to add some "details":
"...Madame Fresnel said that the professor couldn't endure such humiliation, jumped up, and slapped Lionel twice..."
Others: "...!?"
Unbelievable how short-tempered Taine is, how terrifying!
Paul Janet's "details" weren't finished:
"Lionel then jumped up, flew into the air, and kicked the professor twice..."
Others: "...!!??"
Unbelievable how fit Taine is, how enviable!
Paul Janet continued to add fuel to the fire:
"...The students cheered him on. Later, that old professor even took a week off because of it..."
Hippolyte Taine finally couldn't stand his colleagues' strange looks and roared:
"I took a leave because I had a cold! A cold! A cold! Lionel, that scoundrel, it was clearly he who was late that day!
This is revenge! This is slander! We absolutely cannot let someone like him appear in the 'Bulletin'!"
(End of this chapter)