Courbet stood next to the painting, his hands in his pockets, expressionless as he accepted the criticism and criticism of the others around him. Like the statue of David placed in the Louvre, it greets visitors without surprise or joy, and no amount of humiliation and irony can stir up inner waves.

Or maybe the heart is like stagnant water.

These innocuous criticisms were already taught at the official salon of 1850, when Masonry and The Funeral of Ornan were exhibited together with six other paintings, and were immediately attacked by academic public opinion, which ridiculed him as a vulgar art with no cultural background to speak of.

The Parisian citizen who visited today was merely putting his old words back on the table, whipping his self-esteem.

To stand firm in the face of the attacks of the fools, who numbered in the millions, mocked each work with impunity.

Courbet's red tie and sad look on his beard looked weak and innocent in the face of the triumphant attacks of the ignorant masses. The last glimmer of hope that emerged in my heart was extinguished with the incomprehension of others.

Like a duck surrounding an ugly duckling, it makes a harsh and ugly sound.

"Oh my God, it's a tarnishing art to actually draw a mining worker."

"Vulgar, have you ever seen a painting in the Louvre that depicts inferior people? Aren't they all Xiangyan's bodies......"

"Shut up, Charles, you're more vulgar."

In the midst of the tumultuous crowd, only one citizen in a leather jacket rubbed his messy hair, and cautiously expressed his unusual opinion, his hands stained with the color of coal, and his face full of traces carved by time.

Only people like him can have a different feeling about this painting.

It's as if what is described in the painting is yourself.

"But I think the painting feels much more real than the Virgin Mary and the angels...... He's describing ordinary people. ”

"Are you a quarryman? Justifying the painting in this way? ”

The citizen's speech drew ridicule from others, and the laughter echoed like a ghost in the painting gallery, as if he had transformed into an abominable devil, wantonly humiliating the poor man with a flushed face. If there was a crack in the ground, he would immediately get into it without saying a word.

But the more vitriolic sarcasm was still behind the scenes, and a magnetic, majestic voice sounded from behind the crowd, with high-minded disdain.

"For God's sake, shut up, you ignorant inferior."

Mérimée was followed by an old gentleman with elegant manners, but with the opposite disgust on his face, and the white gloves patting the dust on his cuffs, the old gentleman said disdainfully, "What famous painter have you ever seen paint these lowly ants?" Is it Jacques-Louis David? Is it Vian? Or Gro? Thank God, you may not have heard of these paintings. ”

The poor coal worker was humiliated by the old gentleman and was so desperate to get out of the exhibition at once.

However, his goal was not the inferior person in front of him, but

"If you've seen Whistler's Lady in White, you'll suspect that someone is learning to paint for the purpose of spoiling art. This salon is simply a large exhibition of negative teaching materials, warning every descendant of the road of painting art not to make stupid mistakes. ”

There was another burst of laughter, mixed with ugly sarcasm. The audience watched the painters' embarrassed expressions as if admiring the posture of the reservoir dogs, and threw a few stones by the way.

"It's you, Astruk."

As if seeing a fly resting on a pastry, a look of disgust appeared on Courbet's face. In the official Salon reviews, Astrück slammed each of Courbet's creations as useless. and publicly humiliate his artwork.

"Your Excellency Courbet, long time no see. I didn't expect your paintings to be the same as they were ten years ago, and they didn't grow at all. ”

Astrük deliberately spread his hands and pretended to be helpless and said to Mérimée beside him, "Your Excellency Mérimée, did you invite me to this party just to witness the fate of the loser?" Those whimsical creatures always hope to challenge the official orthodox authority with some deviant paintings, but unfortunately they are waiting for them not only to fail, but also to fail. ”

As long as Napoleon III remained, their authority remained.

"If you're here to humiliate me, Lord Astrük. Your purpose has been achieved. ”

Courbet's face turned pale, and he remembered the other party's repeated difficulties, and his patience had reached the limit. Regardless of his identity, he roared at Astruk.

"So, now please leave me with dignity, I don't want to see you!"

Sunlight poured down from the glass-adorned dome and shone on the triumphant faces of Astrüc and Mérimée, illuminating the two shameless faces. Half-hidden in the shadows behind the relief columns, Courbet is like a helpless lamb, facing the accusations and ridicule of the crowd.

Courbet even felt that it was a difficult and long ordeal.

"Oh God, let this damn nightmare end sooner! I shouldn't have hoped for this salon! ”

Courbet slowly crouched down, holding his head in his hands, and leaned helplessly against the stone pillar. I don't want to face an ugly sneer anymore.

"Oh, what a pity Mr. Courbet is."

Garion pursed his lips and whispered, "It's hard for anyone to be taunted by a bunch of ignorant fools." ”

He saw that Mérimée, who was dressed in a straight suit, had come to stir up trouble, but he didn't expect that he would provoke trouble in such a low-level and embarrassing way. A far cry from his noble and elegant status as a guest at the Tuileries.

Garion decided to do something.

He went straight to "Masonry" and to the helpless and desperate Courbet.

He wants to fight for the painters who will leave a name for themselves in the history of the future.

"Yes, this Masonry painting is really good. I'm willing to pay a thousand francs for it! ”

As soon as these words came out, the still quiet crowd suddenly exploded, and everyone turned back one after another, looking for the spokesperson for this sentence.

Seeing that Garion was not in a hurry or impatient, he met the questioning, ridiculed and gloating gazes of the crowd, and replied calmly, "I think this painting is worth a thousand francs." ”

"Why do you think this painting is worth this price?"

Astruk frowned dissatisfiedly, very unhappy that the stranger had come out to provoke a prick. But he hesitated, unsure of the identity of the other party.

And Garion, who knows the roots, perfectly shows the poisonous tongue of a literati.

"Not all ugly mallards have a chance to turn into noble black swans, at least Mr. Astrük has no talent."

"But Lord Courbet is the ugly duckling who can only become a black swan."