Garion, who had also been a man of letters in his previous life, was fed up with this damn manipulation of public opinion and censorship. When you sing the praises of revolutionary history, they warn you of political sensitivities, when you praise national heroes and describe national suffering, they warn you that they undermine the unity of people of all nationalities, and when you write about the darkness of human nature and social pathologies, they warn you that it is not in line with healthy and positive content.

The same damned bastards hold the mouthpiece of French public opinion, the mainstream of art, who do not allow paintings that are contrary to academic ideas, such as Courbet, who depicts dirty and lowly workers, are the object of criticism.

But Garion wants to rebel, against this system that stifles ideas, and he stands on the highest platform of the Palace of Industry, like Prometheus tied to the Caucasus Mountains, bringing light to the pioneers who are silent in the dark.

"I agree."

"It's a great painting, and the people who laugh at them are fools. You, yes, Lord Courbet. ”

Ignoring the disdainful gaze of others, Garion pulled up the young painter at the foot of the stairs and explained in front of the crowd, "Citizens of Paris, while they depict the graceful figure of Venus, while the painters of the academic school discuss the lines of the Virgin Mary, can anyone use their paints without hesitation on the ragged quarrymen, on the weavers with rough hands, on the black-faced coal workers?" When someone finally sings the praises of the poor, shouldn't it be a heartfelt gratitude? Be grateful for the presence of a savior. Remember his name, his name is Courbet, the only one who does not hesitate and is willing to spend paint on you! ”

The laughter in the hall gradually fell silent, and they all looked at the crazy men on the high platform. There is no shortage of crazy legends about him among the anecdotal anecdotes of Paris. It is rumored that a courtesan followed him to Great Britain with all her heart, and even became a rising star in the London literary scene in just over half a year, chatting and laughing with Thomas Carlyle, Tennyson, Thackeray, Dickens and others.

"Ridiculous. It is ridiculous that a clown of political literature would want to overthrow more than 200 years of painting in France. ”

Astruck argues with his arguments and tries to find like-minded friends in the halls to stop Garian's dangerous and crazy ideas.

"No one will agree with you, Garion, you're like those damned and abominable heretics, and no one will admit your appreciation of art at all. Your Excellency Galion, only the Académie des Arts Française can represent aesthetic standards, you can't, even more so the dirty inferior. ”

Astrük shook his fists and roared wildly. It is as if an enraged lion has erected his mane, he sticks to the bottom line of art and will never take half a step back.

"Your Excellency Astruk, have you forgotten one thing?"

It never occurred to Garian to go it alone with an emeritus professor at the Academy of Arts, and he needed the affirmation of the vast majority. When the people of Paris stood by him, the faint voice of the conservatives was nothing more than a splash in the ocean, which was drowned out.

Astrük is no longer a problem.

Garian's eloquent speech touched the Parisian people present, many of whom were born poor and had a deep understanding of the dark world described by Garian.

"You're not the only one standing in this showroom."

Garion slowly raised his hands, and as soon as he finished speaking, another voice appeared.

"I agree."

The second man raised his hand.

"I agree."

The third.

The fourth.

The people in the exhibition hall slowly raised their hands, and the originally sparse voices gradually gathered a torrent that should not be underestimated.

The social elites of France control public opinion and suppress the voices of the aliens, but they forget one thing, the silent majority is not without ideas, but they do not have their own channels to make a voice.

The vast majority of the people in the exhibition hall raised their hands, which is ridiculous to say that the poor people whom Astrück had disdained were now the backbone of the opposition to the official art of the Empire.

Garion inspires the crowd and gives them this opportunity.

"You bastards...... Do you know what is sketching and what is light and dark? You don't understand anything at all! ”

Mérimée, who was standing next to him, was quick with his eyes, and immediately covered Astrük's mouth, signaling the other party to calm down, and if he continued to scold, he would only tilt public opinion towards Garion.

"Are you crazy? If he continues like this, he will only push the people around him to him, which is his purpose, and if you talk nonsense, I dare not guarantee that His Excellency Astrük will walk out of the exhibition hall door completely. ”

At this point, Mérimée motioned for him to look around, and Garion succeeded in inciting the idea that the people at the bottom had been oppressed by the mainstream of society for a long time.

took advantage of this defeat salon to vent out.

Astrück's face was pale, and he found himself in the middle of the vast majority of his opponents, the countrymen, the poor workers, the slaves who served the capitalists, whom they looked down upon, and at this moment burst out a terrible force, this terrible explosion of public opinion, which he had seen in the February Revolution of 1840, the terrible things of the common people.

Mérimée was also trembling with anger at this time, and the failed salon that originally mocked the heretics became an outlet for the losers.

When Monet came, he took his voice and walked up to the high platform, and said word by word to Astrück and the art critics who had laughed at him, "I would rather die if I give up color." ”

Then there was Whist, who did not stand in a prominent position, but walked straight in front of Astruk, and looked at him with a cold look in his eyes.

"This is the first time I have seen His Excellency Astrük in the art of painting being refuted by a layman without saying anything, although I do not agree with all of Galion's views. But one thing is right. ”

Having lost respect for official authority, Whist didn't care about Astrück's comments.

He saw that God had opened the door to a new world for him.

"What?"

Astruck pretended to be calm and said, "Do you need any qualifications to comment on a piece of shit?" ”

Whist smiled, and he raised his fist and slammed it into the bridge of his nose.

Astrük covered his nose in pain and scolded loudly, "Bastard, what are you doing!" ”

"Didn't do anything."

Whist waved his hand and said calmly, "In order to tell you that my Lady in White is not a piece of shit!" ”

At this time, the noisy crowd did not realize that the seeds of realism, which had been silent in the dark, seemed to feel a ray of Microsoft sunshine.

A small cluster of green shoots broke through the ground.