British writer

Saturday, November 3, 1900.

Sweden, Stockholm.

Swedish Academy.

Permanent Secretary Carl David Af Wilson was sitting looking at a list of invitees,

the scientist,

writer,

doctor,

…

The Nobel Prize dinner is dedicated to "catch all" the people with the highest IQs in the world.

On this, there is a person's name that is very eye-catching——

Lu Shi.

There is no other reason. When his name is written, Lu Shi, it is much shorter than the others.

Wilson felt terribly uncomfortable every time he thought of the Chinese man, as if there were countless ants crawling on his skin, rustling, causing large areas of redness, swelling and allergies.

But he had no choice,

If Lu Shi was not invited, the entire European literary world would not recognize him.

"Huh~"

Wilson took a deep breath and let go of the depression that had accumulated in his heart.

At the same time, the door was opened,

"Karl."

Hans Ludwig Fussell, the first chair of the Faculty of Arts, walked in from outside.

He put down a piece of paper full of words on the table, with occasional illustrations between the words.

"Take a look."

Wilson looked over,

It was a beautiful menu, full of art and creativity in appearance and design.

At the top are some appetizer choices,

Cheese platters, cold cuts, salads...

Wilson:? ? ?

He was a little confused,

"What's wrong? I'm not a food connoisseur, let alone a chef. Why are you showing me this? Besides, is it necessary to make it so grand?"

Fussell explained: “When selling tickets to external parties, of course the food must be worth the price~”

Wilson slapped his forehead,

"Yes, I have completely forgotten about this."

It was the Nobel Committee's intention to sell tickets to the banquet, but both Wilson and Fussell approved of it.

The Nobel Prize now needs traffic so much!

Moreover, being able to add some fancy touches to the dishes is not necessarily a bad thing.

Food is also a part of national culture~

Fussell hesitated for a while, but finally couldn't hold it back.

"Did you know...well...you will never guess where the Nobel Committee's idea came from."

The tone of these words is a bit strange,

Wilson raised his eyebrows,

"Speak up if you have something to say."

Fussell said: "Have you heard about the Mirror putting out a tender for advertising space?"

"..."

"..."

"..."

Silence filled the room.

Wilson felt as sick as if he had swallowed a fly.

"That can't be called a tender," he said.

Fussell spread his hands,

"In short, the Nobel Committee came up with the idea from that luncheon."

"bad idea."

As the announcement of the Nobel Prize is getting closer, the Swedish Academy has reached the point where it has changed its tone when talking about "land".

It’s almost like PTSD!

In fact, the ceremonial Nobel Prize dinner did not exist from the first year.

In 1901, the dinner was just an ordinary buffet, enjoyed by the winners and their families, friends and guests from all walks of life. It was regarded as a social occasion.

Since 1904, the dinner has been held on December 10 every year, which is the anniversary of Nobel's death.

By 1945, the location was fixed——

Stockholm City Hall.

It was also that year that the dinner was no longer just an invitation-only event, but tickets were also released to the public.

At this point, social interaction becomes a ritual;

The dinner has become an integral part of the Nobel Prize.

Lu Shi and the "Mirror" accelerated the entire process for more than 40 years.

"Tsk..."

Wilson glanced at the menu briefly.

"It's pretty good, at least it has Swedish meatballs. It's just the cold herring that would be best left out."

Fussell said "Uh..." and nodded.

"Let me reflect on it."

It must be admitted that even the Swedish herring is a bit intolerable to its own people;

To use a modern metaphor,

That dish smelled as if durian had been heated in a microwave and exploded.

Wilson put down the menu,

"By the way, when we were talking about Lu Shi, did you know that he and Professor Monson met in Gothenburg. Lu Shi even said, 'Why should Monson compare with Tolstoy!?' "

Fussell nodded,

"Of course I know about it."

Wilson curled his lips,

"I said it to my face."

Fussell:? ? ?

Completely confused,

"What did you say? Did Lu Shi say that in front of Professor Mengsen?"

How is this different from a direct slap?

I know that the boy named Lu is fierce,

But I didn't expect it to be so fierce.

Fussell asked curiously: "How do you know such a detailed matter?"

Wilson couldn't help laughing,

"The ship they took started from London, transferred to Calais, and ended in Gothenburg. Just looking at this route, it is not difficult to guess how many professors from various universities were on the ship. You know, scientists are human beings too, and they also like to gossip. "

This is right.

There is no airtight wall in the world.

Fussell showed a sinister expression,

"Professor Mengsen had some disagreements with Lu Shi because of the literature award. Now it's better, the conflict has become public."

He gossiped: "Tell me the specific situation~"

Wilson spread his hands,

"I heard it too."

Even though he said it that way, he still told the story with added detail.

Fussell fell into deep thought after hearing this.

a long time,

"To be honest, the literary giants that Lu Shi compared with Professor Mengsen as examples are indeed... alas..."

Lu Shi mentioned five people in total:

Emile Zola,

Anton Pavlovich Chekhov,

Henrik Ibsen,

Lev Nikolayevich Tolstoy,

Mark Twain.

Not to mention Chekhov and Mark Twain,

Because both of them are famous for their short stories, and the Nobel Prize in Literature focuses more on novels, they were not considered.

As for Zola,

There are too many erotic descriptions in the novel, which are inappropriate.

The mainstream doesn’t recognize it either.

And Ibsen is what the Swedish Academy feels the most pity for.

Because Ibsen is a Norwegian, and the three Scandinavian countries, namely Sweden, Norway, and Finland, have always been relatively united, and even the Nobel Committee was established in Norway.

Giving the Nobel Prize in Literature to Ibsen is considered as giving to one of our own people.

But who would have thought that Ibsen suffered a stroke in 1900, resulting in long-term illness.

Of these five people, only Tolstoy...

I really have nothing to say.

Wilson patted Fussell on the shoulder.

"Didn't we already award the prize to Tolstoy? Besides, the judges are not saints with extraordinary foresight, and some of the most prestigious writers may have missed out on the Nobel Prize due to the influence of prejudice. This is normal."

It's up to me to make excuses for myself.

Fussell said "hmm".

"Then do you think Lu Shi and Professor Mengsen will..."

I haven’t finished what I said next,

Self-explanatory.

Wilson waved his hand noncommittally,

"Who knows this? It's just that the matter has spread, and both parties can't save face. There will inevitably be conflicts. We can help appropriately... No, no, no, no, let's forget it."

Originally, he wanted to use Mengsen to suppress Lu Shi's arrogance.

Because this literature award is basically equivalent to Tolstoy being awarded around the neck by Lu Shi and Bernard Shaw.

His face was swollen.

But Wilson eventually shrank,

He smiled bitterly,

"We are like rats in the gutter, we still have to be self-aware. If Professor Monson can't handle Lu Shi this time, then we should just be honest with him."

Fussell laughed at himself;

"You mean, 'self-knowledge'?"

If Lu Shi can be suppressed, the Swedish Academy will not do so.

Now I can't hold it back anymore, but I have some self-awareness.

"We're pretty hypocritical," Fussell said.

Wilson was stunned for a moment, then laughed loudly and said: "You said you are hypocritical, which is also very hypocritical. If you can't reflect on it, you won't reflect on it~"

Fussell laughed too.

At this time, there was a knock on the door outside,

"gentlemen?"

Wilson stopped laughing,

"come in."

A clerk came in and placed an exquisite wooden box on the table.

On the wooden box are gilded artistic calligraphy——

Patek Philippe.

Between the two words, Patek Philippe’s Calatrava cross star pattern is painted as the brand logo.

Wilson asked, "What is this?"

The clerk replied: "It was sent by the Nobel Committee. It was said to be a pocket watch sponsored by a Swiss watchmaker and given to the winner of this Nobel Prize."

Wilson's lips curled up,

The Nobel Prize has only started to attract traffic in its first year.

This is good news.

He opened the watch box,

An exquisite pocket watch comes into view, and the artistic beauty is full of charming charm.

Open the back cover of the pocket watch, and you can see the movement as the soul beating like a strong and powerful pulse.

"What a good watch..."

Wilson returned the watch, then picked up the gift card next to it.

The above is some commonplace content,

But there are two more lines at the end:

I would like to pay tribute to noble scientists with this series.

Thanks also to Professor Lu Shi, whose advice made Patek Philippe realize the beauty of science.

——

Wilson: "..."

Fussell: "..."

"Why is he everywhere!?"×2

The two said in unison.

…

Click click click——

The wheels of the carriage made a soft sound.

The coachman reminded: "Gentlemen, we will arrive at our destination soon."

Monson in the car did not reply.

He opened the curtains and took a deep breath of the cold air.

Opposite him sat a sturdy German scholar, about forty years old.

Although he wears glasses, the shrewdness in his eyes cannot be concealed.

The scholar's name is Friedrich Melnick, who was Mommsen's student when he was a student at the University of Berlin. He now works for the German National Archives and serves as the editor of the "Historical Magazine".

Melnick lowered his voice,

"teacher?"

Monson glanced at him, still saying nothing.

This attitude certainly rubs people the wrong way.

Melnick thought to himself, he already holds an important position and has achieved academic achievements, why should he be treated like this?

Even if Lu Shi reprimands him, he can't vent on others!

But he hid this dissatisfaction well and communicated with the driver in Swedish: "How long will it take?"

The driver said: "Ten minutes."

He tightened the reins of his horse and continued to talk: "By the way, there have been a lot of people going to the Stockholm Grand Hotel recently, and they are all gentlemen in suits and ties. I don't know what's going on."

Melnik is a second-guessing expert in Swedish.

He could only sum it up simply: "Nobel Prize."

The coachman was confused;

"what is that?"

Melnick replied: "The one who makes dynamite."

This is completely different from the horse's mouth.

Monson rolled his eyes at his disciple and said: "The Nobel Prize is an international award designed to recognize those who have made contributions in physics, chemistry, peace, physiology or medicine, and literature."

His Swedish is quite standard.

The driver said, "This is the first time I've heard of it."

Monson echoed: “Of course, the current Nobel Prizes are not very valuable, especially the Literature Prize.”

Melnick: "..."

I shook my head in my mind.

The coachman probably noticed the resentment in the carriage and said quickly: "Gentlemen, the weather is getting cold now. When you get to the hotel, you must try the traditional Swedish mulled wine and cinnamon buns."

Melnick also cooperated.

"What about the attractions?"

He didn't want Monson to talk about the Nobel Prize or Lu Shi again.

The coachman said: "The buildings in Stockholm are very magnificent, but the most interesting thing is the various winter sports competitions, such as skiing, skating and sledding...ah..."

Bang bang——

The sound of the whip was heard,

"Gentlemen, we have arrived."

The carriage stopped.

Melnick jumped out of the carriage first, then helped Monson down.

This journey has been tiring,

The boat ride took three and a half days, and the train ride from Gothenburg to Stockholm took another seven hours.

Monson could hardly stand.

He was on crutches,

"Come on, let's go in and have a sip of wine to warm up."

Melnick echoed: "It's really cold in Northern Europe."

This season, the streets and alleys of Stockholm are filled with a strong sense of autumn, and from time to time the coldness of winter is revealed.

With the current temperature, it could snow at any time.

The only advantage is that the air is good, much better than Berlin and London.

The two entered the hotel.

Because it was not a meal, the restaurant did not serve meals, but the bar was open.

They handed their luggage to the waiter and entered the bar.

In an instant, all kinds of hustle and bustle came.

too many people!

They were all scientists, gathering together in twos and threes, chatting about the research results in their respective fields, which was very lively.

Munson looked around,

Because he is a historian at heart, he doesn’t know many people here.

He nodded to Melnick,

"A glass of hot wine. Just what the coachman said."

Although Melnick was used to being bossed around, he still felt slightly embarrassed to be surrounded by so many academic figures.

He said helplessly: "Teacher, please sit down first."

After saying that, he went to order two glasses of hot wine.

Swedish mulled wine is a traditional drink usually drunk in winter.

This wine is brewed with red wine as the base, plus spices such as cloves, cardamom, cinnamon, lemon peel, etc. It has a rich and aromatic taste and is an essential Christmas drink.

Melnick took two glasses and found Monson at a table in the corner.

He put down his glass,

"Teacher, drink it while it's hot. This wine...Teacher?"

Halfway through his words, he noticed that Monson tilted his head and looked at the table next to him with a slightly embarrassed expression.

Melnick also followed Monson's line of sight and looked over.

It seemed to be a table of writers,

Melnick knew one of them, a Frenchman named Sully Prudhomme.

Just listen to Prudhomme say: "This year's Nobel Prize in Literature must belong to Mr. Tolstoy, it is irrefutable."

The tone of the writer next to him,

"Sully, don't you think...well...I have news that this year it was supposed to be awarded to a poet, and the reason involves literature. Are you really not sorry? I really like your poems, especially that one. "Broken Vase."

Melnick liked that one too,

the reason is simple,

His marriage failed, and the poem vividly describes the sorrow and pain of a person after a stormy marriage.

"

The verbena dies in the vase,

The vase is slightly cracked when it touches the fan.

The fan is just a light touch,

Cracks formed quietly.

"

So well written!

Prudhomme shook his head and said: "If it comes to literature, why should I compare with Tolstoy? Moreover, as I just said, the historian Monson was nominated before this Nobel Prize for Literature. I don't think so. I’m ashamed to talk to him...forget it, let’s not talk about this.”

After saying that, he drank "tons and tons".

Melnick couldn't help but glance at Monson beside him, and finally understood the reason for his ugly expression.

He whispered: "Teacher, please change the place?"

Monson nodded,

"good."

The two changed seats.

Unexpectedly, as soon as I sat down, I heard another discussion about Lu Shi.

At the next table were two old gentlemen dressed in British style.

One of them said: "Speaking of which, the global university rankings compiled by Professor Lu seem unfair."

The other person nodded,

"Of course, but it's understandable. After all, it's hosted by our Great Britain, and it's a project named by His Majesty the King. It can't be... Hehehe... All in all, we at the University of Manchester are quite satisfied with that ranking."

Before, one person nodded repeatedly,

"We in Glasgow are also very satisfied. However, I heard that some schools think there are problems, such as the University of Berlin."

Ranked one hundred, but there are forty or fifty schools that are dissatisfied.

Some feel that the ranking is low and outrageous;

Some people think it’s outrageous that it didn’t make the list.

The man said: "This thing cannot satisfy everyone. But the University of Berlin may be because...forget it, let's talk about Professor Lu's "Mirror". That newspaper is simply amazing."

They changed the subject and stopped talking about rankings.

Melnick looked at Monson,

"teacher……"

Munson didn’t know whether it was because of drinking or some other reason, but his face turned red.

He squeezed the handle of the wine glass tightly,

"This Lu Shi, why is he everywhere!?"

After saying that,

boom--

The wine glass was placed heavily on the table.

The wine overflowed, flowed slowly, and then dropped down the edge of the table.

For a moment, everyone's eyes were focused.

Munson stood up slowly,

"This wine is nothing good."

He walked toward the door.

Melnick's toes were so embarrassed that he quickly lowered his head and followed closely.

The two left through the gate.

For a moment, the bar was covered in a strange atmosphere.

"..."

"..."

"..."

I don't know how long the silence lasted before comments started coming from everywhere.

"The one who left just now was Professor Monson, right?"

"Momson? The same Mommsen who wrote "History of Rome"?"

"Hahaha, now we don't call him 'Momson who wrote "History of Rome"', but "Momson who missed out on the Nobel Prize for Literature." I heard that Professor Lu will also come this time, maybe the two of them will I can fight~"

"You don't need to 'hear', Professor Lu will definitely come. He and Mengsen are on the same boat~ They have already fought for a round."

"Okay! Beat, beat, beat! I want to see the blood flowing like a river."

"You are too shady. But, I like it."

"Ha ha ha ha!"

…

There was a cheerful atmosphere inside and outside the tavern.