Le Petit Parisien's literary supplement published Lionel Sorel's short story hometown in a prominent front-page position, once again stirring up public opinion in Paris.
The first to react strongly were the anonymous provincial immigrants scattered throughout Paris.
hometown was like a key, unlocking the 'nostalgia' deep within their hearts.
These readers may not all have come from mountainous towns like Montiel; some were from Normandy farms, some from Brittany fishing villages, some from Burgundy vineyards, some from towns in the Central Plateau…
But their common identity was that of 'provincials' forced to leave their hometown for survival or dreams, struggling to make a living in the 'City of Light,' Paris.
In a Latin Quarter printing house, there was a typesetter named Pierre, who worked day and night and came from a Limousin village.
When he read Luntou's respectful yet distant 'Master' in hometown, his hands paused, and the lead type blocks fell to the ground…
After work, he, for once, did not go to the bistro but bought a bottle of the cheapest wine.
Returning to his cramped attic, he drank wine by the dim kerosene lamp, silently shedding tears, missing his parents and the land he could never return to.
Marion, a maid working near Madeleine Square, came from a Champagne region village.
She read hometown in a newspaper her mistress discarded, and its descriptions of rural poverty and the difficulties of land inheritance resonated deeply with her.
She was forced to come to Paris to make a living because her family had too little land and too many people.
She secretly cried in the laundry room, not only for Luntou in the story but also for her own fate, with a meager dowry and an uncertain future.
There were also salesclerks working in department stores, small civil servants from Nantes, Corsican men toiling on construction sites…
hometown touched their complex feelings of both love and resentment for their hometown, as well as the hardships and alienation of integrating into the big city.
In cafes, workshop corners, and below rented apartments, people began to whisper about the short story in French with various regional accents…
The Parisian literary circles quickly noticed the short story and keenly perceived Lionel's return to the calm, restrained, and realistic style of the old guard.
In particular, the profound and subtle revelation of the desolate state of rural areas in remote parts of France excited critics.
Jules Janin, the chief literary critic and senior critic for Le Figaro, wrote a lengthy review, praising it enthusiastically:
"…hometown convincingly demonstrates Lionel Sorel's astonishing insight and compassion, painting a heartbreaking picture of the French countryside for us.
His portrayal of human destiny and the changes of the times, his depiction of class divides and human warmth, are enough to remind us of the great Balzac.
This is undoubtedly the most excellent and thought-provoking short story masterpiece of the French countryside we have read since The Human Comedy."
Le Débat's review focused more on its social significance:
"…The value of hometown extends far beyond literature; it reveals the painful struggles occurring in the forgotten corners of France outside our Paris:
The fragmentation of land, heavy taxation, the loss of young people… Lionel uses literature to reflect the shadows beneath the Republic's facade of prosperity.
These issues should receive high attention from the government and the esteemed ministers of the cabinet, rather than being drowned out by grand slogans."
The critic from Le Temps also pointed out:
"…Lionel Sorel makes no empty political shouts or moralistic preaching; he simply narrates calmly, yet he allows every conscientious reader to feel the thunder beneath the calm surface.
This short story should be sent to the desk of every member of parliament."
Unlike the reactions of the literary world and the general public, government officials at the Palais Bourbon and the Hôtel Matignon showed great indifference, even impatience, towards the short story.
The secretary placed the newspaper containing hometown and related commentaries on the desk of Adolphe Lépruve, the Minister of Agriculture and Commerce.
Adolphe Lépruve, busy drafting a new agricultural tax bill, merely glanced at it impatiently before pushing it aside: "More of these writers' groundless groans!
Exaggerated, sensational! To achieve artistic effect, they always piece together the most extreme and tragic examples.
The situation in the French countryside is not that bad at all; most farmers are content with the status quo and live in peace and contentment."
The secretary kindly reminded him: "Minister, there is a lot of discussion about this short story now… in terms of public opinion…"
Adolphe Lépruve showed a disdainful smile, then his tone became solemn: "For the sake of great France, to repay national debt and build railways and fleets, someone always needs to make sacrifices.
Everyone is bearing a heavy burden, not just them!
Do these writers know that I now have to work at least half an hour of overtime every day?
Alas, I am not without sympathy, but… let the farmers suffer a little, and I will bear the blame!"
By the sea in Naples, Italy, hometown also became a hotly discussed topic in Mrs. Rothschild's mansion.
Since when, discussing Lionel's works—whether it was the endlessly evocative letter from an unknown woman or the currently serialized the extraordinary adventures of benjamin button—had become a fixed topic.
Of course, discussing hometown here had a completely different color.
Ladies and gentlemen, dressed in exquisite attire, sipping champagne under glittering crystal chandeliers, discussed the distant world of Montiel, which they had never encountered, with a mixture of curiosity, sympathy, and a touch of exoticism.
The fate of Luntou's family became the object of their pity.
"Oh, my dear, have you read it? That poor farmer, how truly tragic!"
"Yes, it's hard to imagine that in our France, there are still such impoverished places."
"'Hope is neither existent nor non-existent, just like paths on the ground,' my goodness, Lionel always has golden sentences waiting for us!"
"That's because Mr. Lionel Sorel truly has a heart of gold; he can notice and write these things."
Mrs. Rothschild, seated at the head of the table, keenly perceived the sympathetic mood pervading the salon.
She had always regarded Lionel as one of her most insightful 'investments' and 'collections.'
Ever since the oral exam at the Sorbonne's annual examination, when she sent her chief maid Lia to confront the arrogant Sofia, vague speculations about Lionel and her had secretly circulated among the ladies.
Mrs. Rothschild perceived it but did not care—Lionel was not the fat, crude Balzac—the ladies would only be mad with jealousy.
Therefore, each of Lionel's successes further enhanced her reputation among the ladies.
Thinking of this, Mrs. Rothschild gently put down her fan: "Ladies, Lionel's words allow us to touch a scar on France.
Mere sighing is not enough; we, who enjoy the prosperity of Paris, should perhaps do something concrete for those poor people…"
An impromptu charity fundraiser began.
The ladies generously opened their purses, perhaps out of genuine sympathy, perhaps to cater to Mrs. Rothschild, or perhaps just to display their kindness…
Soon, a sum of up to twenty thousand francs was raised.
Mrs. Rothschild immediately announced that this money would be donated to the town of Montiel in the name of "Friends of Paris" to "improve people's livelihoods"…
Lionel did not know that his hometown had once again sparked an extraordinary reaction in Paris; he was now facing a huge challenge, even more difficult than his struggles for survival in Paris…