Paris, September 1, 1880.
The thin morning fog had not yet dispersed, but the crisp cries of newsboys already echoed through the streets and alleys.
""Le Petit Parisien"! Lionel Sorel's new work, 'A Study in Scarlet,' begins today! Only 5 centimes!"
""La Vie Moderne"! Latest issue! The mysterious detective Sherlock Holmes makes his debut!"
And in front of Parisian newsstands and bookstores, more people than usual had gathered.
Whether it was the 15-sou magazine "La Vie Moderne", or the "Le Petit Parisien", which cost only 5 centimes, both captured the readers' attention!
"Here it is! Lionel's new story!"
A young man pushed his way to the newsstand, impatiently slapped a few coins on the counter, and snatched a copy of "La Vie Moderne".
A worker came up:
"Give me a copy of "Le Petit Parisien" too!"
The people behind him crowded forward:
"Give me one too, I want to see what kind of story can drive the Englishmen mad!"
Similar scenes were simultaneously playing out in countless corners of Paris.
Despite being nearly two months later than in Britain, after joint promotion by the two media outlets, both newspapers, with their vastly different positioning and pricing, sold out.
Public reading rooms were packed, with latecomers having to stand to read;
In cafes, the usual chatter was replaced by the rustling of newspapers and occasional exclamations;
Even in some government offices, clerks could be seen secretly hiding newspapers under official documents, engrossed in reading.
…
All Parisian readers wanted to see for themselves: had Lionel Sorel really bowed down for pounds?
However, this scrutiny and doubt quickly vanished once readers became immersed in the story.
Unlike "Good Words", which was a bi-weekly, both newspapers adjusted their serialization pace, so each single issue contained less content than "Good Words".
But even so, it plunged all of Paris into the charm of "deduction."
["First, I notice your hands…"]
["…In London, what kind of young gentleman would possess both of these characteristics simultaneously?…"]
["…On your clothes, especially the cuffs and lapels… that's the smell of laudanum…"]
The clear, calm, and detail-rich narration immediately captured the readers' attention.
When Holmes, through a pair of "housewife's hands," a few subtle knife marks, and the faint scent of laudanum, precisely deduced Watson's situation…
Parisian readers, just like their British counterparts, felt an unprecedented shock.
In a café near the Panthéon Square, a middle-aged man couldn't help but raise his hand to examine it closely:
"Incredible!"
He then unconsciously sniffed his own cuff.
A lady at the next table was amused by his actions; she didn't know why this respectable gentleman would suddenly do this.
Soon, just like in London, Paris also saw a craze for observing palms and pocket watches, which became a new fashion in social circles.
Gentlemen would playfully tease each other, trying to deduce the day's itinerary from details of each other's clothing;
Ladies were more subtle, but in salon gatherings, they quietly observed their companions' accessories and manners, fantasizing about discovering hidden clues.
But unlike British readers who revered Holmes's "deductive method" as the "ultimate expression of human reason," the emotional French tasted a different flavor from it.
In a literary salon by the Quai Voltaire, a young poet waved his copy of "La Vie Moderne":
"This is an alternative kind of romance!"
He excitedly elaborated on his view:
"Holmes's charm lies not in cold logic, but in how he transcends everyday life!
You see, he unearths thrilling stories from the most ordinary, most trivial things.
This is not just reason; it's a magical gift, and it's the most extreme kind of romance!"
Another writer nodded in agreement:
"Exactly! This is a 'heroic individualism.'
Holmes, alone, uses his meticulousness to combat the carelessness of the entire world.
With his unique vision, he establishes a set of order and truth that belongs only to him.
He does not rely on authority, does not blindly follow the masses, and only trusts his own observation and deduction.
Would the Englishmen truly understand this extraordinary, maverick stance?"
A lady added:
"Don't you think that this almost obsessive, extreme focus inherently carries a mysterious aesthetic?
He is like an artist, except his canvas is a crime scene, and his pigments are those details ignored by ordinary people.
This process of finding order and exploring truth through deduction is inherently poetic!"
This interpretation quickly spread within Parisian cultural circles.
French readers consciously or unconsciously avoided the rigid rationality in Holmes that was seen as "British."
They spoke more about his aloofness, the mystical aura of his deductive method, and his ethereal "artistic temperament."
They regarded Holmes as a romantic solitary genius, a poet who performed romantic creation with rational thinking.
Ordinary citizen readers, on the other hand, more directly felt the magic of the story.
They might not understand "romantic individualism," but they were equally impressed by Holmes's seemingly "all-seeing" ability.
In cafes, taverns, and on park benches, people could be seen everywhere imitating Holmes.
They carefully observed their companions' palms and clothing details, or pulled out their own pocket watches, trying to discern something interesting.
A game called "Holmesian observation" quietly became popular in Paris.
"Look at your cuffs, stained with chalk dust and paint splatters… I guess you're an art teacher, and you just finished a lesson this morning?"
A young man joked to his friend.
"Oh! Then look at my hat, what can you make of it?"
His friend smiled and handed over his hat.
The serialization of "A Study in Scarlet" in France also achieved extraordinary success.
The circulation of "Le Petit Parisien" reached a new high within a week after the serialization began, and the editorial department received piles of reader letters.
Paul Pigott was beaming; he had once again proven that betting on Lionel was correct, greatly enhancing his prestige as editor-in-chief.
Subscribers to "La Vie Moderne" also increased significantly, with many middle-class families choosing it as a new option for family reading after dinner.
After all, not everyone liked sentimental love stories, but few could resist the detective "Sherlock Holmes."
This time, George Charpentier, without needing a reminder from Lionel, had Renoir prepare 4 illustrations early, made into colored cards, with one randomly included with each copy.
He had even started discussing the publication of the single volume of "A Study in Scarlet" with Lionel.
Everything seemed to be developing in a good direction, and the critics had changed their tune.
They believed Lionel had successfully navigated two different cultural contexts, conquering the staid British readers and winning over his romantic French compatriots.
However, in mid-September, the literary review section of "Le Figaro" published a review article with an unusually striking title—
"Lionel, Please Give "Sherlock Holmes" Back to France!"
(End of Chapter)