I am a literary giant in Russia

Chapter 153 Two-stage reversal and £20,000

There is no doubt that Alexandre Dumas is a controversial figure in Paris, but no matter how people criticize his lineage, morality, character, or many other things, at least in the realm of popular fiction, there is hardly a more authoritative writer than him.

In particular, his novel "The Count of Monte Cristo" was being serialized in Paris at the time, which sparked a frenzy throughout the city. Newspaper sales soared, and some readers even bribed printing press workers to get the latest updates as soon as possible.

The profits generated by this novel were undoubtedly astonishing. Even without considering the additional advertising revenue and income from subsequent volumes and other adaptations, the serialization alone, barring any unforeseen circumstances, would have brought Alexandre Dumas at least 200,000 francs in revenue.

So what did 200,000 francs mean in France at that time?

During this period, a male worker's daily wage was only two francs, while that for women was halved. As for child labor, it was even more unheard of.

In short, few people would question Alexandre Dumas's business acumen in this regard, but it is precisely because of this that the Parisian writers and editors gathered at Dumas's house found it all the more incredible.

Ten francs per line? Does Mr. Dumas really think that the Russian writer's novel is superior to his own?
Even if he was exaggerating as usual, and halved the number he mentioned, it was still not a small amount. This price undoubtedly illustrates another point: Dumas believed that this novel had a very high commercial value and would most likely become popular in Paris.

Is it really that amazing? A newcomer's first full-length popular novel, and written by a foreigner at that! Can it really reach this level?
Frankly speaking, if this newcomer hadn't been a Russian writer who had never appeared before, many people present would have thought it was a farce deliberately staged by Dumas in collaboration with someone else.

When Alexandre Dumas uttered those words, the audience erupted in uproar. After a moment, some of the writers who had made sarcastic remarks recently suddenly turned red in the eyes. In the brutal Parisian literary market, how could someone achieve success without even showing their face?
Meanwhile, the eyes of many editors present lit up immediately. In Paris, novels were plentiful and easy to find. Even writers like Dumas and Balzac were constantly recommending their new novels to major newspapers in order to earn more money. But the problem was that excellent novels like "The Three Musketeers" and "The Count of Monte Cristo," which could directly change the survival of newspapers, were extremely rare.

Since this work has received such high praise from Dumas, it is absolutely worth paying attention to.

For a moment, they couldn't help but turn their attention to the agent from Russia.

When he felt the gazes of the crowd, Turgenev, who had been feeling incredibly repressed in recent days, was overjoyed, and the smile on his face became increasingly exaggerated.

Is this just a glimpse of the experience revealed from Mikhail's powerful hand?

Facing such constant attention, Mikhail's ability to suppress his laughter truly makes him akin to a saint.
But despite the laughter, Turgenev naturally didn't forget to answer the question from the Parisian writer he didn't actually know.

In fact, Dumas's praise was not limited to just one sentence. After saying that sentence, Dumas went on to express his praise and thoughts for a long time.

For Alexandre Dumas, who is currently at the height of his popularity in the world of popular fiction, it is indeed very difficult to make him jealous of others. After all, who else can be as successful as him?

Of course, more importantly, this novel, full of fantastical elements, inspired many of Dumas's ideas. Its unique storytelling techniques and methods undoubtedly gave Dumas a lot of inspiration, and it is likely that he would have used them in his own novels with great success.

In addition, he had long admired the works of that Russian writer, and under the influence of all these factors, Dumas was happy to help that talented writer open the door to the Parisian popular fiction market.

While discussing this novel, whose first half was remarkably novel and captivating, with Turgenev, Dumas also asked curiously:

"Actually, I'm very curious about how the author of this novel defines it. Simply calling it a fantasy novel seems a bit inappropriate, since after carefully considering some of the content, I found it to be very feasible. So, is there a more suitable term?"

Mikhail calls such novels science fiction.

When asked this question, Turgenev replied: "He said that with the advancement of science and technology, many things that we originally thought were unbelievable are becoming reality, and writers can certainly make certain predictions and depictions of the future based on such progress. Of course, they can also write very exciting stories."

"Science fiction."

After pondering the somewhat unfamiliar term for a while, Dumas finally came to his senses and exclaimed, "This sounds like almost a completely new genre of novel! Did he come up with this idea after he had already finished writing it?"

"No, Mikhail had already come up with this brand-new concept before he even started writing it."

"He must have put in a lot of effort and gone through a lot of difficult thinking, right?"

"It seems like it just came to mind suddenly while attending a banquet."

Alexandre Dumas: "?"

Banquets can actually have this kind of positive effect?

Thus, Dumas inquired about the young writer with great curiosity for quite some time. The more he heard from Turgenev, the more curious he became, to the point that he even wanted to meet the young man.

There's likely a chance for this in the future. After all, judging from his desire to serialize his novel in Paris, he probably intends to develop his career there. We'll have to keep a close eye on that young man then.
With this in mind, Dumas didn't waste any more of Turgenev's time. After all, for Turgenev, the priority was to find a few suitable magazines to discuss the exact amount of payment per line of writing.

There will definitely be too much; one can only take a quick look and that will be enough to discover the brilliance of the novel. As for how many francs he will receive, Dumas thinks it won't be too high, after all, this is truly a brand-new novelist.

Soon after, Dumas suspended his conversation with Turgenev, and many people around him immediately gathered around.

In response to this situation, Turgenev naturally put on a show when necessary, shaking off the depression and unpleasantness of the previous days. At the same time, he still needed to discuss the necessary matters and see what kind of price these Parisian magazines could offer.

In that case, the editors would first need some time to review parts of Mikhail's novel before formally discussing the price. After this first round of selection, and following the gathering at the Dumas family's house, Turgenev had already given parts of the novel to several editors, including Girardan, the editor of *Le Soir*.

However, despite getting the manuscript, Dumas's experience was like seeing a ghost. Before this, he hadn't even bothered to read the newcomer's work. Now, he didn't know what had happened, but he was now taking the initiative to ask the author for the manuscript.
Out of professional ethics, he quickly began reviewing the novel. But once he actually started, putting the content aside, the title "Around the World in Eighty Days" alone stunned Jiladan for a while. How long would it take to travel around this vast world? Was it really only eighty days?

It's no exaggeration to say that the name alone is enough to attract many readers.

When it comes to the main text, the author of this novel gets straight to the point and tells the story. The story is not set in the past like those historical romance novels that are popular in Paris, but in a future that is hard to imagine, namely 1872.

This setup seems to be just as Dumas said, truly novel. At the same time, the Englishman Mr. Fogg, introduced at the beginning, also left a very deep impression with just a few concise descriptions.

Another point worth mentioning is that, after careful consideration, Mikhail decided to retain the British nationality as the protagonist's preferred choice.

As for the reasons, they are naturally closely related to the era. To complete the mission of traveling around the world under such technological conditions and global circumstances, it was probably more likely that the British would be able to do so. After all, at this time, Britain had the world's largest colony, and being British would undoubtedly make it easier for the protagonist in some levels.

In addition, this identity is indeed closely related to the origin of this story:
“Alright!” Fogg said, turning to the other card players, “I have twenty thousand pounds with the Baring Brothers, and I’m willing to use it to gamble!”

“Twenty thousand pounds!” John Surivan exclaimed. “If we hadn’t anticipated this and had returned too late, the twenty thousand pounds would have been gone!”

“Nothing is truly unexpected,” Fogg replied simply.

"But, Mr. Fogg, eighty days is the minimum!"

"With minimal time, as long as it is used properly, the problem can be solved."

"To ensure the journey takes no more than eighty days, we must be extremely precise in getting off the train and immediately boarding the ship, and then immediately boarding the train again!"

"I will grasp it accurately."

"This is ridiculous!"

“A respectable Englishman treats betting like a serious business; he never jokes,” Fogg replied. “I can guarantee that I can circle the Earth in eighty days, or even less—that is, in 1,920 hours or 115,200 minutes. Whoever wants to bet on that, I’ll bet 20,000 pounds. Are you in?”

Aside from the British, who were accustomed to gambling during this period, who else would be willing to spend such a huge sum of money on a bet?

Passepartout, the French servant in the article, also commented: "The Englishmen are more crazy about betting than the French are about dating!"

Incidentally, Passepartout's character in the novel does sometimes act as a scapegoat for the British, such as when he criticizes British food as "boiled beef like leather shoes, and pudding like lead balls."

To cater to French tastes and for other reasons, Mikhail planned to add some more depth to the role.
For Girardan, editor of The Century, the suspense of an eighty-day round-the-world trip had already made him eagerly anticipate it, and now a bet of up to 20,000 pounds had appeared! Was Mr. Fogg in the novel really that rich and confident?
Keep in mind that's £20,000! Enough for a person to live a decent life in Paris for decades.

But this is how Mr. Fogg reacted to this enormous bet:

"A betting agreement was written on the spot, and the six parties immediately signed it. Fogg was very calm. He was not betting to win money, of course. The reason he put up this sum of £20,000, which was half of his wealth, was because he had already anticipated that he would be able to use the other party's money to complete the plan."

The plan itself, if not impossible, would certainly be extremely difficult. As for his opponents, they seem somewhat nervous now, not because the stakes are too high, but because the tense atmosphere creates a sense of unease.

Having read this far, Girardan already had a good idea of ​​how much the novel was worth. After excitedly finishing the rest of the book, the editor felt he hadn't had enough and quickly convinced his boss on some issues. He also contacted Turgenev soon afterward, trying to finalize the deal before other magazines could react.

It's no exaggeration to say that this work has the potential to become another The Count of Monte Cristo!

Moreover, this deal is definitely much more cost-effective than "The Count of Monte Cristo," since a newcomer is much cheaper than a renowned author like Alexandre Dumas.

However, in order to secure the win in one fell swoop, it's best not to bid too low at the outset.

So when Girardin met Turgenev, he cautiously and restrainedly quoted a high price of 1.5 francs per line, saying, "You can inquire around; even in all of Paris, not many writers can afford this price, including some truly great writers. We have already shown our utmost sincerity."

Faced with such a price, although Turgenev already felt it was somewhat outrageously high—after all, it was 1.5 francs per line—after considering the precautions Mikhail had given him, Turgenev still managed a somewhat uneasy smile, and then slowly said:

"As far as I know, someone offered a higher price; they seem to be more serious about the offer."

At this point, the experienced Giradan could obviously tell that the other party was intentionally raising the price, but considering the quality of the novel and the inevitable competition, Giradan could only offer the Russian a warm smile: "Perhaps we can discuss this further."

Seeing such an expression on the face of the editor of Le Soir, one of Paris's most influential newspapers, Turgenev couldn't help but think to himself as he continued negotiating:
Indeed, if it's a novel by Mikhail, then one can boldly explore the boundaries of their work.
Okay, now I have something to talk about whether I'm in Paris or St. Petersburg.

In fact, Turgenev was already fantasizing about such a scene.
(End of this chapter)