The Screenwriter

Joseph's life thereafter was indeed as arduous as Armand had estimated, with him relying solely on black bread and cold water to get by each day. This lifestyle persisted for about two months, during which Joseph successfully transformed his physique into something more akin to a bamboo pole.

"Joseph, there is a theater troupe currently preparing a comedy called The Governor of the Island. The story is adapted from Don Quixote. I think your current physique is very well-suited to play the Knight of the Rueful Countenance in this comedy," Armand said to Joseph with a grin.

"To hell with that!" Joseph retorted. "In this play, Don Quixote is certainly not the lead, right? The lead must be Sancho."

Having said this, he looked Armand up and down and added, "I must say, for you to play the lead, you would need to make a great deal of effort."

"Who said I was going to play the lead? How could that be?" Armand replied. "Sancho is a short, fat man, and I—while a tiny bit shorter than you—have absolutely nothing to do with being short or fat. Joseph, is there something wrong with your brain, or is it your eyes? Or perhaps you have already become so immersed in your role that you can mistake windmills for giants?"

Hearing this, Joseph burst into laughter. "Ah, Armand, why is your brain so rigid? Isn't comedy a comedy precisely because of its absurdity? Armand, you must know that the world is absurd and life is painful. My friend, that is the reality of the world."

"Long ago, King Midas searched the forest for a long time for the companion of Dionysus, the wise Silenus, but could not find him. When Silenus finally fell into his hands, the King asked him: 'What is the best and most excellent thing for man?' The god stood there like a wooden statue, saying nothing. When the King forced him, he finally spoke with a resounding laugh: 'Oh, you wretched creatures of a day, children of chance and misery, why do you force me to say what it would be best for you not to hear? The best of all things is something you can never attain—that is, not to be born, not to exist, to be nothing. But the second best for you is still within your reach—that is, to die soon!'"

"What a terrifying story this is. When we lift the mist shrouding the towering Mount Olympus and expose its foundations to our eyes, what do we see? We find ourselves facing the immense terror of nature's violence, the destiny that ruthlessly governs all knowledge, the eagle that torments the great lover of humanity, Prometheus, the terrible fate of the wise Oedipus, and the curse of the House of Atreus that drove Orestes to matricide. We see that behind the sacred and solemn Greek gods, what actually lurks is the terrifying Titan. In order to survive, driven by this urgent necessity, the sensitive Greeks had to create a dream to ward off the terrifying reality. Just as Apollo holds high the head of Medusa to make all manner of terrifying monsters retreat. Comedy, and indeed all art, is this dream."

"Dreams can be absurd, and indeed, they must be absurd. Only the terrifying Medusa can scare away other terrifying ghosts. So, why must you be so hung up on Sancho being a short, fat man?"

"Joseph, you detestable fellow," Armand said. "You are simply using your learning to hoodwink people. My head is spinning from your circular logic. Although what you say seems to have some merit, the audience needs a beautiful dream, not a nightmare that gives them a fright. I don't think they would accept a Sancho as tall and handsome as me."

"Indeed, the contrast between Sancho's image and his wisdom creates an interesting dissonance, and this dissonance brings pleasure to the audience. If you were to go up there directly, that contrast would indeed be missing. But my friend, have you forgotten that there is a kind of art that, while it cannot turn the Graeae—those ugly hags in Greek mythology who share one eye and one tooth—into Helen, it can certainly turn Helen into the Graeae?" Joseph laughed.

"You mean makeup? But makeup can only change a person's appearance at most; how could it possibly turn a tall man into a short one?" Armand asked, puzzled.

"How could there be no way? This world is never short of solutions to problems; it only lacks clever minds capable of thinking of them." As Joseph spoke, he picked up a pencil and a scrap of paper covered in math problems from the table nearby.

"Look, we can use the method of making a corset to construct a..." Joseph said, sketching on the draft paper as he spoke.

"This is..." Armand's eyes widened. "Hey, this actually seems possible, though it would be very tiring for the actor to perform like this."

"It has its difficulties, but it isn't easy to find a dwarf who can act. However, it is easy to find an actor who can act and endure hardship, isn't it?" Joseph glanced at Armand and said, "Of course, a fellow like you, who loves art but lacks the spirit to sacrifice for it, certainly couldn't endure such suffering. Besides, there is another benefit: when the play ends and the actors come out for their curtain call, the actor playing the dwarf suddenly stands up straight—the effect would surely be hilarious."

"Hehe, hehe..." Armand laughed as he tucked the paper Joseph had drawn on into his pocket. "Joseph, you should go to England to apply for a patent for this design. Though it would be useless, as France does not recognize British patents, and France has no legislation regarding patents."

"That is why England is superior to France in technical invention," Joseph replied.

Two days passed after this conversation. Armand came running to find Joseph again:

"Joseph, that idea of yours last time was excellent. Especially that moment during the curtain call; the audience roared with laughter. The effect was superb. I think you could even become a playwright. You know, while the scripts of the Greeks and Romans are very good, many things are too ancient and not quite suitable for the modern stage. The same goes for those works from the Renaissance, which are even closer to our time. Furthermore, even the works of modern writers often fail to be performed on stage without modification because they blindly imitate the ancients. Thus, many troupes are in need of a playwright."

"These playwrights are mostly former actors; they understand the stage well, but their artistic insight is quite lacking. Therefore, many troupes, in addition to having a playwright who is a former actor, will look for a playwright with sufficient taste in art to have them collaborate. For instance, the 'Dragon and Rose' troupe that performed The Governor of the Island is now hoping to hire such a playwright. Besides, many artists start their careers from such positions."

"Originally, they proposed that I should be their playwright. But, you know, I am very busy, and you are currently in need of money. But Joseph, my friend, do you still have the energy and time to take on this job?"

"Ah, thank you so much, my friend," Joseph said gratefully. "As for energy and time, my friend, these two things are like water in a sponge; as long as you squeeze hard enough, you can always wring some out."

"Joseph, do you know? One of the most interesting things about talking to you is that I can always hear some exceptionally philosophical words. Actually, you are a very interesting person. If you didn't deliberately put on the air of a clergyman, you would certainly be favored by the young ladies. Of course, perhaps a bit worse than me, but certainly better than Lucien. Look, Lucien already has a mistress."

"Lucien has a mistress too?" This news took Joseph by surprise, for although Lucien's family had some money, the funds he could actually access were very limited, and his father would never support him in keeping a mistress.

"Of course," Armand said, beaming. "Just now, near the Church of Saint Genevieve, I encountered Lucien's new coat and new hat, along with his polished new leather shoes, all wrapped around a Lucien who was holding a bouquet of flowers, looking so wooden that he didn't even hear me greeting him. I saw that look of trepidation and anticipation on his face; it was as if he were going to defend his thesis, or as if a general were heading to the battlefield. Ah, I am very familiar with that expression—because I have seen it many times. I have given this state a biological name: 'estrus.' Yes, Lucien has fallen into this state. I am certain he must have a little mistress. There is no doubt about it!"

"Judging by what you're saying, you haven't confirmed it?" Joseph asked. "That doesn't sound like you. Didn't you secretly follow Lucien to see what kind of girl could captivate him so suddenly?"

"Of course I followed him. I thought this fellow would go to the small garden behind the church to rendezvous with his little lover. At the time, I even thought: 'This kid really knows how to pick a spot.' I didn't expect him to get on a public carriage there, and then..."

"And then you lost him, didn't you?" Joseph laughed.

"Exactly. But I will definitely find out what kind of little enchantress could bewitch our Lucien like that. Hahaha..." Armand laughed.

"Oh, by the way, the director of the Dragon and Rose Troupe, Mr. Thenardier, hopes to meet with you sometime to invite you for a cup of coffee. See when you might have time."

"How about Sunday afternoon? I have nothing to do that whole afternoon," Joseph replied.

"That's good. Then I will go and set the time with Mr. Thenardier. Hmm, do you have any requirements for the location?"

"Anywhere is fine," Joseph replied.