Shadow of great britain

Arthur held the manuscript and turned over page after page.

Although he was very familiar with this manuscript, what he read this time was not in print, but in the original handwriting of Charles Dickens.

He read it very slowly, not only to express respect for Dickens, but also to reminisce about the past time and another world.

After an unknown amount of time, Arthur put down the manuscript, leaned on his chair and joked: "Perhaps this manuscript should be displayed in the British Museum rather than on my desk. After all, this is a rare thing in Great Britain." Homemade collectibles.”

Dickens' face turned red and hot: "Arthur, you're here again. You always flatter me like this, but you make me believe it."

Arthur shook his head and said: "How could I be flattering you? Aren't the two short articles "Mr. Mings and His Cousin" and "Scotland Yard" that you published in the "Monthly Magazine" a while ago very good? I told you, Charles, you will become a great writer sooner or later. This novel "The Pickwick Papers" will make you a lot of money, and it will even be better than your previous two novels. Short essays are more successful.”

"Really?"

Dickens was a little excited at first, but then he felt less confident. "Arthur, you better tell me the truth. I sincerely want to hear your opinion. You know, I used to be busy making a living, working to pay off debts, so I never had many friends. And Of the few friends I have, I think you are probably the only one who has literary taste. Seriously, Arthur, come and find fault with me. I just wrote the beginning and a partial synopsis of the story. If you want If we want to change it, it’s still too late.”

Arthur just smiled when he heard his insistence, and then picked up the manuscript and flipped through it: "If there is anything I can't stand, maybe it's just here."

"Where?" Dickens took the manuscript and read it carefully at the location pointed by Arthur: "Are you saying that this place is inappropriate for the liar Ginger to trick Miss Wardle into elopement? Readers don't like this kind of plot? Or are you saying , is this not in line with the moral values ​​of devout believers?”

"No, no, no, you misunderstood me."

Arthur smiled and said: "Readers like to read this. As for moral concepts, there are no moral concepts these days. After all, the best-selling London tabloids are all about love that makes people blush at a glance. Story'. When I say I can't stand it, I mean that after Mr. Wardle found out that his daughter had eloped with the liar, he actually decided to offer 120 pounds to keep the liar away from his daughter. This is a bit surreal."

Dickens was stunned when he heard this: "How is it so surreal?"

Arthur smiled and said: "In the novel, it is all about giving you as much money as you need to leave my daughter. But in reality, it is all about giving me as much money as you want, or you will leave my daughter. But this actually doesn't matter, Charles, after all It’s a novel, maybe there really is a person like Mr. Wardle.”

After hearing this, Dickens bit his lip and thought for a moment. He said in a long voice: "No... Arthur, what you said seems to make sense. How about I change Miss Wardle to Mr. Wardle's sister?" We have been dependent on each other since childhood, so we have a deep relationship, so we can’t bear to let my sister’s fantasy be shattered, so we secretly give the liar Ginger a sum of money to keep him away from Miss Wardle?”

Arthur shrugged his shoulders: "You can handle it however you think, it doesn't matter. Because in my opinion, your novel already has enough success factors."

The hesitation on Dickens's face may be due to the young man's severe lack of self-confidence due to repeated failures over the years.

"Arthur, is it really that good?"

Seeing his appearance, Arthur could only encourage him: "It's not that it's good, it's that you are good. Have you forgotten what I told you? Charles, people like you are destined to be literary giants. If this movie The royalties earned after the publication of "The Pickwick Papers" are less than 1,000 pounds. Charles, you can come to me at any time to make up for it. That's how confident I am.

If you don't believe my vision, you can wait another month. I guarantee you that in one month there will be a novel called "The Count of Monte Cristo" that is popular in the streets of London. That novel is also I helped review it.

Perhaps that novel will even be more popular than your "Pickwick Papers" because from a popular literary point of view, you can hardly find any flaws except that its author is a Frenchman. "

When Dickens heard this, he immediately became interested: "Could the Frenchman you are talking about be the one you rescued from the high seas? Mr. Alexandre Dumas?"

Arthur smiled and nodded: "It seems that the fat man's kidnapping was a blessing in disguise. At least he is quite famous in London now."

Dickens was a little discouraged when he heard this: "Mr. Dumas's fame is partly due to the kidnapping, but also partly due to his "Henry III and His Court", which was a hit in London last year. A while ago. Mr. Dumas is also a well-known playwright. It is natural that he can create great works, and I..."

Arthur shook his finger: "No, Charles, don't think so. Maybe your earning power is worse than him, but what the fat man writes usually doesn't have far-reaching connotations and cultural significance. In terms of his status in the field of literature and art, Even Victor Hugo of his era could not securely win it.

Although the fat man may not be sad because of this, after all, accepting failure calmly is one of the few good qualities of the French.

And I just learned that perhaps his biggest dream is to be a first-class French cook, and his second dream is to continue doing his job and become a French artilleryman.

But you are different from him. You are completely overwhelming a large group of people in Britain in this era. If you are willing, your words may still have a certain impetus for this era, and in the entire history of British literature, you can completely say that you are sitting on the sidelines. "

Dickens almost didn't listen to Arthur's compliments. He looked at Arthur eagerly, as if hoping to get some substantive evidence from his mouth.

Dickens fell into deep self-doubt: "I have been wanting to ask this question since a long time ago. Arthur, why do you think so highly of me?"

Arthur also fell silent when he heard this. He was thinking about how to answer this question to Dickens.

Suddenly, he raised his gaze and aimed it at Agares, who was cleaning his glasses at the table, as if he was asking the devil's mind with the same question.

Seeing his gaze, the red devil couldn't help but take off his glasses, covered his mouth and smiled.

"Where are there so many reasons? I like you just because you are good. Only the strong are worthy of being with me, and only the weak will fall into self-doubt. So, Arthur, don't hang out with these cowards, it will corrupt you. Bones and Nerves.

Think about why you set up the Provisional Bureau of Survey and Statistics in London. If you can't make the world love you, it's better to make the world fear you. The way you use Jones is very appropriate. Why should we reason with them?

In the past, you had to be reasonable because you had no power. Now that you have power, you must be as unjust as you can. Please forgive me, your useless kindness will only make you suffer more attacks. "

When Arthur heard this, he just smiled and shook his head: "The best way to show a person's character is to see what he is laughing at. You think you are laughing at others, but in fact you are laughing at yourself."

Dickens was stunned when he heard this, and asked: "Arthur, what did you say?"

"Nothing." Arthur took out a few magazines from the desk drawer and placed them on the table.

It was a couple of literary review magazines like the Monthly Review and Blackwood's.

In order to investigate Disraeli's experience, Arthur went to a used bookstore and bought all the issues that attacked him.

I thought that after the investigation, these things would be useless, but I didn't expect that these magazines could be used to show some extra value to Dickens today.

Arthur casually opened one of the magazines, pointed at the words on it and said.

"Don't you know that reading fashion novels has become very popular among London citizens, especially the middle class? Nowadays, accomplished writers who want to make a lot of money usually do not describe the psychological activities of any male protagonist, but focus on him Dress him up as much as possible to make him look like a typical fashion person, and then use his mouth to say a few wisecracks.

When describing the heroine, he will list the addresses of the high-end clothing stores she often goes to, and try to be extravagant in some details of life, such as telling readers that upper-class people eat fish with silver forks.

Perhaps the distance between the middle class and the upper class has become closer, so when they have a little money, they begin to care about the behavior of the upper class and learn from their gestures, eating habits and so on.

All in all, the more detailed and refined you write about this aspect, the more readers will love it. Besides, your "Pickwick Papers" also contains elopements, elections, banquets, jails and a lot of plot twists. I really can't think of a reason for the failure of this book. "

When Dickens heard this, he gradually gained some confidence.

He looked at Arthur, hesitated again and again, and suddenly summoned up the courage to say: "Arthur."

"What's wrong?"

Dickens stared at Arthur and asked seriously: "Since you think so highly of my book, why don't you write me a preface?"

Arthur's expression paused at first, then he raised his eyebrows slightly and said half-jokingly: "Are you sure? I'm a Scotland Yard policeman, not a literary critic."

Dickens blinked, rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment and said with a smile: "If this book is as good as you said, why should I worry about the identity of the person who wrote the preface to me? You wrote the preface to me. , if I make money by then, I can share some with you."

"Oh... Arthur..." the red devil covered his mouth and sneered: "Look, what did I say? Your insignificant kindness will only harm yourself. Maybe this guy was running in the first place This is...a book with a preface written by the Superintendent of Scotland Yard, it must be easy to publish, right?”

Arthur glanced at the red devil. He took out a piece of white paper, and then took out the quill pen from the ink bottle and splashed ink. As he wrote, he muttered: "If this can be regarded as harming me, then I would rather he write every book." You can harm me once. After all, all fools know that this may be more profitable than buying Rothschild stocks."