The Flaubert family's living room was filled with the smoke of cigars, the rich aroma of coffee, and the scent of cologne, but even more so, with everyone's anxiety.
Lionel felt the pressure of everyone's attention, but he was not in a hurry to speak—he was also weighing the pros and cons.
For him, the scoundrel named Édouard-Benoît de Villeneuve certainly deserved to die.
However, he also did not want the Church to take advantage of this to expand its power.
Moreover, Villeneuve was essentially enduring this absurd ritual on his behalf.
Maupassant couldn't help but urge Lionel, "Leon, what are you thinking? Sign, or not sign?"
Lionel put down the coffee cup, from which he had only taken a small sip, and looked up, his gaze calm, his voice not loud, but it cut through the stagnant air like a paper knife: "Gentlemen, we seem to have fallen into an either/or trap."
Flaubert and the others were stunned: "How is it another trap?"
Lionel patiently explained, "Signing a joint petition to prevent the exorcism would stigmatize us as harboring a demon; but not preventing it would tacitly acknowledge the Church's privilege to conduct theological trials on literary creations."
Maupassant was impatient: "We all know that, so what do you think we should do?"
Lionel smiled and patted his shoulder, calming his agitation: "The real core of this issue is the Church's opportunistic abuse of the vague and dangerous label of 'demonic possession' to explain everything they cannot understand or are unwilling to understand—
Whether it's Villeneuve's criminal acts, or his… well, his special 'creations,' isn't that right?"
Lionel paused slightly to give his words more weight, and then paced to the center of the living room.
His tone grew increasingly calm: "The exorcism ritual itself, no matter how absurd, we may be powerless to stop, and there's no need to forcefully stop it.
That is the Church's self-amusement within its belief system. The key lies in the 'verdict' after the ritual—
The Church will inevitably declare the exorcism successful, the 'demon' expelled, and Villeneuve 'restored to sanity.'
Then what will happen?"
This question made the writers look at each other, as they truly hadn't understood.
Lionel laughed: "According to Inspector Claude, who arrested him, based on past experience, after the exorcism, Villeneuve will be sent to the Salpêtrière Psychiatric Hospital, chained up, and confined with real lunatics!
Everyone knows what a hellhole that place is.
In fact, this is their true purpose—to erect a living warning sign with a living body."
The living room was silent, only Lionel's voice echoed: "So, the key to stopping the Church is not whether to jointly oppose the exorcism, but to provide a scientific, undeniable diagnosis of Villeneuve's condition based on science!"
"Diagnosis?" Maupassant blurted out, confused.
Lionel nodded: "Yes, a diagnosis. We can ask the Ministry of Interior or the Ministry of Justice, after the exorcism ritual—note, *after*—
To appoint authoritative, reputable psychiatric experts to conduct a strict, independent mental status evaluation of Villeneuve!"
Flaubert was the first to realize: "Good idea. Regardless of whether the diagnosis shows he has a mental illness, then, even if the Church declares him possessed by a demon, there will be a huge controversy between the two.
The public will see that for the same symptoms, the Church attributes them to a demon, while medicine attributes them to brain lesions or trauma.
As long as there is controversy, we can use it to educate the public about mental illness and the absurdity of exorcism rituals!"
Lionel nodded: "Yes, so what the French Writers' Association needs to do is submit a carefully worded petition to the Ministry of Interior, or even higher levels.
The focus is not on opposing the exorcism, but on emphasizing how necessary and urgent it is to introduce scientific medical evaluations at critical moments involving citizens' mental health and judicial handling.
Our goal is to prevent misjudgments based on superstition, and to uphold the fairness of the law and the dignity of the scientific spirit!"
As his words fell, the living room plunged into a few seconds of absolute silence.
Zola suddenly slammed the table, making the ashtray jump: "My God! That's it! Lionel, genius! Absolutely a genius idea! Bypassing unnecessary frontal conflict and striking at the heart of the matter!
Using the spear of science to pierce through the intimidating facade of theology! This is more effective than us arguing a hundred times about whether to sign a joint petition! I fully support it!"
Flaubert smiled and nodded: "I will push for it with the French Writers' Association!"
Maupassant excitedly grabbed the wine bottle and refilled his glass, raising it high: "To Lionel! To the spear of science! To hell with those charlatans! Cheers!"
He tilted his head and drank it all, not caring that the wine ran down his chin.
— — — —
The writers were not the only ones who wanted to stop the exorcism ritual.
Just as Flaubert was drafting an open letter to the Ministry of Interior, a luxurious four-wheeled carriage adorned with intricate gold trim and a double-headed eagle emblem hastily rolled over the wet cobblestones in front of the annex residence of the French Ministry of Interior building in the 8th arrondissement, splashing mud.
After the carriage arrived downstairs, the door burst open, and Sofia Ivanovna Durova-Sherbatova, like a cold storm, swept into this building, the heart symbolizing the administrative power of the Third French Republic.
She didn't even wait for her secretary to announce her, but walked with crisp, hurried steps, carrying a resolute anger, and directly knocked on the heavy oak door of Minister Ernest Constans's residence.
"Uncle Kangstan, it's me, Sofia!"
Ernest Constans was meeting a senior official in the living room, and hearing Sofia's voice, he could only helplessly ask the other party to step aside for a moment.
He then met the noble daughter from Russia in his more private sitting room.
"Uncle Kangstan!" Sofia's voice was not cold as it was to outsiders, but sweet like a girl next door.
She looked as if she had suffered a great injustice: "I hope you, with the power of the Minister of Interior of the French Republic, cancel that utterly absurd exorcism farce against Édouard-Benoît de Villeneuve, which is about to take place at Notre Dame Cathedral!"
Minister Kangstan crossed his hands over his abdomen, a soothing smile on his face: "Sofia, I can understand your and your mother's concerns. Villeneuve's actions are indeed outrageous.
However, this exorcism ritual… it involves the internal affairs of the Church, and it is also a practice of faith, falling within the scope of religious freedom.
The government, frankly, finds it inconvenient to directly interfere with the clergy's…"
Sofia couldn't help but sneer: "Religious freedom? Uncle Kangstan, are you talking to me about the freedom of prayer for those common farmers in country churches?
No! This meticulously planned 'holy show,' aimed at all of Paris and even all of Europe, no matter what its initial purpose, will ultimately point its spear directly at my mother!"
Minister Kangstan was a bit surprised: "What, do you not want the scoundrel to be punished? After Villeneuve undergoes exorcism, he will be locked up in the Salpêtrière Psychiatric Hospital.
Believe me, he will suffer ten times more in there than in prison…"
While saying this, Minister Kangstan secretly thought of a possibility—could Baroness Alekseyevna still have feelings for this exceptionally talented scoundrel?