In Paris, while the fervor of The Thunderstorm's premiere was still at its peak, new visitors arrived at the office of the Director of the Comédie-Française, Émile Perrin.
They brought not only congratulations but also the urgent longing of theater markets outside Paris for this stage revolution.
Louis Guymard, manager of the Lyon Opera, and Paul Leroy, manager of the Bordeaux Opera, sat opposite Émile Perrin.
Both had seen the premiere of The Thunderstorm, and their eyes shone with anxious, urgent expectation.
The solidly built Louis Guymard spoke first:
"Émile, let's skip the pleasantries. The Thunderstorm—I must bring it to Lyon as soon as possible. For the national tour, the first two stops must be Lyon and Bordeaux, or Bordeaux and Lyon."
He glanced at Paul Leroy beside him, who immediately nodded in agreement.
Paul Leroy's tone was even more agitated:
"Émile, this play is not just a Parisian treasure; it is an artistic gem belonging to all of France! It is our duty to art to let the entire French people see it as soon as possible! Every day of delay is a crime against dramatic art!"
Émile Perrin leaned back in his comfortable high-backed chair, his hands crossed over his chest, his face a mix of understanding and regret.
He shook his head gently:
"My dear friends, Louis, Paul, I completely understand your feelings, just as I understand the applause from last night's audience.
But, duty? Precisely because I am responsible for the art I manage, and responsible for The Thunderstorm, this masterpiece, I cannot agree to your request."
The expressions of the two managers instantly changed.
Louis Guymard leaned forward:
"Émile, what do you mean? Is the Comédie-Française planning to monopolize this play?"
Paul Leroy forgot his composure:
"Émile, do you want a higher box office split? As long as we can tour it, the share is negotiable."
Émile Perrin waved his hand:
"Monopolize? No, it's protection!
Protection from being tarnished by clumsy imitation and unsuitable conditions. Do you think The Thunderstorm's success is merely because of Lionel Sorel's genius script and the outstanding performance by Sarah and the others?"
He stood up, walked to the window, and pointed down at the theater:
"You saw it with your own eyes, the realistic, two-story set with a staircase. The actors can truly live, run, and clash on it!
You also felt the blinding shock brought by the arc lamps simulating lightning, didn't you? And the electric light sources that delicately change with the plot—their atmosphere is also indispensable!
Tell me, apart from the Comédie-Française right now, is there any theater in France, or even the whole of Europe, that can meet these performance requirements?"
He turned around, his gaze sweeping over the two men:
"Without these elements, the 'Lavalner Manor' is just a flat painting! The thunder and lightning of fate would just be the ridiculous sound of shaking sheet metal backstage, and the magic of The Thunderstorm would be greatly diminished! I cannot allow that to happen!"
Paul Leroy grew anxious:
"Theater renovation takes time! Huge investment! A lengthy approval process! We can find substitutes—hire the best artists to draw more realistic backdrops, double the number of gas lights in the theater to increase brightness…"
Émile Perrin interrupted his statement:
"Substitutes? Paul, that's like trying to chase a train with a carriage. A painted backdrop will never allow the actors to truly 'hide' behind a door to eavesdrop, or permit 'Madame Madeleine' to descend a real staircase. And gas lights?"
He scoffed before continuing:
"Setting aside their perpetual flicker, noise, and terrible color rendition, consider safety alone… Think of the tragedy in Nice! Gentlemen, the times have changed."
He looked at the two men, who had fallen silent, and softened his tone:
"Gentlemen, take the long view. This renovation isn't just for The Thunderstorm. Think about it: when we have a stable, bright, precisely controllable electric lighting system, and a robust stage capable of supporting realistic sets… what kind of new life will classic plays take on?"
He paced back to his desk and sat down again:
"For instance, Molière's Tartuffe, Corneille's Le Cid, and The Hunchback of Notre-Dame—imagine the scene when Quasimodo rings the bell at the top of a 'real' Notre-Dame tower under bright lights…"
Émile Perrin paused here, leaving them with infinite room for imagination.
Louis Guymard and Paul Leroy were completely silent.
The future Émile Perrin described was indeed tempting, but the thought of the massive renovation budget, complex technical difficulties, and lengthy closure period… They could barely breathe at that moment!
The two exchanged glances, seeing the same hesitation and struggle in each other's eyes.
Just then, Émile Perrin bent down and retrieved a thick, large leather-bound notebook from the bottom drawer of his desk.
Émile Perrin sighed:
"Ah, I know your difficulties."
He handed the notebook to Paul Leroy, who was closer to him:
"This is the complete plan for our Comédie-Française renovation. From the stage structure, electrical wiring, lamp selection, to the construction schedule—almost every detail is in here. You can take a look and see the amount of work and technical barriers involved."
Paul Leroy impatiently opened the notebook, and Louis Guymard immediately leaned over.
Inside were dense yet clearly organized blueprints, data tables, and textual descriptions.
Specifications for the cast iron components of the stage load-bearing structure, detailed diagrams of the arc lamps and control circuits, illuminance calculations for different areas…
It even included summaries of the procurement contract copies with the "Edison Electric Light Company" and the "Yablochkov Factory"!
The professionalism and completeness of this plan were astonishing; it was practically an encyclopedia of theater modernization.
The more they looked, the brighter their eyes became.
It was as if they were holding not a booklet, but the key to the future world.
Just as they were about to study the crucial budget section and construction team information carefully, Émile Perrin gleefully snatched the notebook back.
Émile Perrin, putting the notebook back in the drawer, said:
"Ah, gentlemen, this is the core secret of our Comédie-Française, which we only worked out at great cost.
The preliminary design and testing alone cost us countless hours and money, not to mention our construction team, which is now the most experienced in all of Europe.
—Whether it's the seasoned carpenters or the electricians who can handle complex circuits, they are all top-tier."
He leaned in closer and lowered his voice:
"However, as friends, I can point you towards a solution.
Don't worry about the renovation—we, the Comédie-Française, as pioneers, are willing to share our experience and offer a complete, proven renovation package!
Of course, you would need to cover a small, reasonable design fee.
Furthermore, if you are willing to hire our 'experienced team' to handle the construction, I guarantee it will be completed in a very short time and to the highest standards.
Think about it: perhaps in just over a month, your theaters could be staging The Thunderstorm, just like ours, and lead other theaters for years to come!"
Louis Guymard's and Paul Leroy's breathing instantly grew heavy…
(End of Chapter)