Lionel sat in his study at 117 Saint-Germain Boulevard, his brow slightly furrowed.
His interactions with the American side, whether in political or cultural circles, were extremely rare, and direct communication was almost non-existent.
Although some American publishers, such as Harper Brothers, had previously sent him invitations to contribute through letters, he almost always forwarded them to Delaruac for cold processing.
He didn't lack newspapers or magazines willing to publish his works, and the royalties offered by Americans would not be higher than those from the British.
In Lionel's view, the current America was a new world full of opportunities and chaos, and culturally, its handling of foreign authors' copyrights was even worse than Russia's.
Russia at least respected everyone's copyrights in theatre, paying high royalties for new play productions—of course, the main reason was the frequent exchanges between European theatre companies, with major theatres conducting continent-wide tours every few years.
Tours not only brought generous box office returns but also required the support of local theatres to succeed, so the theatre world formed stronger alliances of interest earlier than the literary world.
This was also a major reason why Lionel had recently been "addicted" to playwriting and couldn't extricate himself.
Both "The Chorus" and "Thunderstorm" continued to generate astonishing income for him, although they still couldn't compare to the royalties from "The Montiel Scrolls," they far exceeded novels.
Especially "The Chorus," he had successively authorized nearly ten large theatre companies in Britain, Italy, Austria, Russia... to perform it, and banknotes of various colors flowed into his pockets like the Seine river after the floodgates opened.
But not a single cent of splash had appeared in this river.
He didn't believe that American readers weren't reading the English translations of his novels, especially "The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes."
The tastes of 19th-century American readers were basically still at the level of "I'll read whatever the British read," and their literary foundation and aesthetic characteristics had not yet fully formed.
So Lionel had little interest in America of this era, and was very indifferent.
However, to be able to alarm the American ambassador himself to personally send a formal invitation, only a handful of people could achieve that.
Several names flashed through Lionel's mind, then he put down the letter and looked out at the grey-blue sky of Paris.
————————
On the night of September 11, 1881, the air in Paris already carried the coolness of early autumn.
The American Embassy was brightly lit, standing out prominently in the night.
A carriage with a "Sorel-Peugeot" nameplate stopped in front of the embassy gate.
Lionel, dressed in a well-tailored black evening suit, got out of the carriage with Sophie on his arm.
Sophie had chosen a dark blue velvet gown for the evening, with delicate pearls adorning the neckline, both dignified and gentle.
She gently held Lionel's arm and whispered,
"I'm a little nervous. I heard Americans are very... enthusiastic and direct."
Lionel patted the back of her hand:
"Relax, just pretend you're watching a play."
Inside the embassy, decorative crystal chandeliers illuminated the hall as brightly as day, and the air still carried the scent of cigars, perfume, and food.
Well-dressed men and women moved through, their conversations, laughter, and the string orchestra's music intertwining.
Ambassador Levi Morton was a smiling, well-mannered diplomat.
He warmly greeted Lionel and Sophie:
"Mr. Sorel, welcome. Your presence truly adds luster to tonight's banquet!"
His French had a slight accent, but was very fluent.
After exchanging pleasantries, Levi Morton led Lionel to a "small group" composed of American artists and writers, and gave Lionel a brief introduction.
Most of these people lived in Paris out of admiration for French culture, but they always lingered on the periphery of Parisian cultural circles, finding it difficult to enter the most important salons.
Lionel's arrival was like a red-hot iron ball thrown into ice water, instantly melting their aloof exteriors.
They surrounded Lionel, complimenting and fawning over him, discussing Lionel's novels and plays, and that comedic trial.
It was as if a single word from this young man could grant them entry into the innermost literary circles of Paris.
If that truly happened, it would be enough to make them famous even in their home country, America—after all, an American writer and an American writer who became famous in France had completely different values.
Lionel naturally understood this.
He maintained a polite smile, discussing innocuous topics with these admirers, cautiously evaluating each person's talent, and not easily making any promises.
Of course, his thoughts were always attentive to that "important guest."
Finally, Ambassador Morton opportunely ended his conversation with another group of guests and turned to Lionel.
He walked over with a smile:
"Mr. Sorel, please allow me to introduce a friend who has come a long way and has long admired you.
Miss Sophie, my wife is very eager to discuss the latest children's bicycles with you. She bought one for each of our children..."
Sophie nodded knowingly and joined Ambassador Morton's wife's small circle.
Ambassador Morton then led Lionel, under the reluctant gazes of the American writers, away from the main hall and into a side room.
As soon as he entered the side room, Lionel saw a short, sturdy, energetic middle-aged man.
Ambassador Morton enthusiastically began the introduction:
"This is Mr. Thomas Edison, the brilliant inventor from Menlo Park, New Jersey.
Mr. Edison, this is Mr. Lionel Sorel, whom you have always wanted to meet."
It was him, Lionel understood in his heart.
Although he had guessed it earlier, truly facing this "Wizard of Menlo Park" still slightly shook Lionel's heart.
This was the man who had lit up the world with incandescent lamps, established the first central power station, and would wage a brutal "current war" with Tesla in the future.
And just a few months ago, he had poached Tesla and all the electrical engineers from Edison Electric's Paris branch.
But at this moment, Thomas Edison was all smiles, as if this incident had never happened at all.
He extended his hand proactively and shook Lionel's hand firmly:
"Mr. Sorel, I've heard so much about you! Finally, we meet."
His English was fast, and a translator nearby quietly relayed his words.
"Mr. Edison, a pleasure to meet you,"
Lionel responded in English, his tone calm.
Thomas Edison didn't seem surprised.
He waved his hand, and the translator left the side room.
Ambassador Morton, seeing that his objective had been achieved, raised his glass:
"I hope you two have a pleasant chat!"
Then he also left the side room.
For a moment, only Lionel and Thomas Edison remained.
He scrutinized Lionel, his smile still bright:
"First, congratulations, Mr. Sorel. I followed your recent impressive judicial victory in America.
Your counterattack against unjust accusations was so powerful, and you gained widespread public support; that's truly remarkable."
Lionel responded calmly:
"You flatter me, Mr. Edison. I merely had the good fortune of truth being on my side, and thankfully, the citizens of Paris were clear-headed at the time."
Edison laughed heartily, seeming to appreciate Lionel's remark:
"Luck is also part of strength, especially in a complex city like Paris."
He then quickly got to the point:
"Mr. Sorel, I hear your 'Sorel Electric' is developing rapidly and has performed excellently in theatre renovation projects in France.
Are you interested in participating in the Electrical Exposition?"
Lionel's heart stirred.
He knew Edison was referring to the first International Electrical Exposition being held at the Palais de l'Industrie, which ran from August to November.
This was an important event in the history of electrical development, showcasing the rapid advancements in electrical technology since 1878.
Although the exposition started in August, due to the weather, visitor numbers were low, with mostly small, novel gadgets on display.
September and October would be the peak of this exposition, where truly powerful manufacturers or inventors would showcase their achievements to the world.
Lionel nodded subtly:
"Of course, Mr. Edison. 'Sorel Electric' will naturally not miss such a grand event.
We believe this is an excellent platform to showcase our ideas to Europe and even the world."
Lionel knew that Tesla and his team had been preparing for this convention for several months, he himself was deeply involved, all to make a stunning debut at that time.
Thomas Edison leaned forward slightly, looking very interested:
"Oh? What surprises will 'Sorel Electric' bring to the world this time? I'm very curious about that.
After all, a company that can attract so many excellent engineers from my Paris branch must have something unique."
Lionel smiled faintly.
This great inventor still couldn't let go of his previous grievance.
But his response remained impeccable:
"Please allow me to keep it a secret, Mr. Edison. Everyone will naturally find out in a week at the Palais de l'Industrie.
I believe it will not disappoint those interested in the future of electricity."
He paused, then turned the tables:
"So, what kind of 'miracles' has 'Edison Electric' prepared to conquer Paris and Europe this time?"
Edison was quite pleased with Lionel's compliment.
He straightened his back, his face showing the enthusiasm and confidence of a preacher:
"Coincidentally, Mr. Sorel, we have also chosen to display 'an unprecedented miracle of electricity and light' to the public at the Palais de l'Industrie in a week.
We will prove that stable, reliable lighting and power, enough to change urban life, have become a reality."
Lionel naturally knew he was talking about direct current and incandescent lamps, but he couldn't guess how Edison would present this system this time.
Edison, of course, would not reveal details, but instead steered the conversation towards what he cared about.
At this point, the smile on his face became more sincere:
"To return to your 'Sorel Electric,' Mr. Sorel.
I must say, your theatre renovation projects combine electric lighting and dramatic art so perfectly, creating unprecedented stage effects.
Your vision and courage are truly admirable!"
Lionel remained unfazed, not uttering any humble words.
He knew Edison's intentions lay elsewhere.
As expected, the great inventor then lowered his voice and put forth a very tempting proposal:
"Mr. Sorel, have you considered that we could engage in deeper cooperation?
You possess influence and channels in the cultural and artistic fields, while 'Edison Electric' possesses the most mature and reliable lighting systems and patented technology.
If we were to unite and establish a new company, perhaps called 'Edison-Sorel Electric,' to jointly develop the European market...
Imagine what a powerful force that would be! We could more quickly popularize electric lights in every corner that needs illumination."
(End of Chapter)
TL: Big news! In one of the latest chapters (Chapter 887) posted today on p@treon, Lionel's son has just been born! 🎉🎉🎉