Chapter 507

[Vernell Guéret Finally Drives Eugène Lamour Into Retirement]

[Can’t Take the Tyranny of the Art Purists Anymore… Eugène Lamour Retires After Tearful Press Conference]

[Wicked Critic Drives French Master Into Retirement With the Tip of His Pen]

[TheBlack Sea, Originally Purchased for 25,000 Francs, Sells for 120,000 Shortly After Retirement Announcement]

[Eugène Lamour Foundation: “We Were Never Informed of Eugène Lamour’s Retirement Plans”]

Seeing that the newspaper he had been reading was plastered with stories about Eugène Lamour, Mecklenburg folded it in half with razor-sharp precision. He was currently following Eugène Lamour’s carriage in his own, watching it disappear into the distance.

Elias Hohenzollern had suddenly called out to Askanien with a serious expression, saying he would go on ahead, and then disappeared. After staring straight ahead in silence for a while, Mecklenburg spoke to Askanien, who was sitting across from him.

“I still feel resentful.”

“You said you didn’t understand. What exactly are you so upset about?”

They had talked a little on the way here, so Askanien already knew that Mecklenburg hadn’t understood much of what had happened.

“It’s only natural that I can’t fully understand it. I can’t become Eugène Lamour himself, after all. But I do know what went wrong and who was hurt. My understanding of it is just superficial.”

“Hmm…”

Askanien nodded as though telling him to continue, though he seemed to be thinking about something. Encouraged, Mecklenburg let out a sigh and continued.

“Public opinion is turning around. The press is trying to bury Sir Vernell Guéret. Meanwhile, they’re practically deifying Sir Eugène Lamour. In the end, no matter what the critics think, Sir Lamour’s sincerity has succeeded in completely turning public opinion against them. But…”

Mecklenburg continued, quietly moving the newspaper lying beside his seat out of sight.

“Just as Sir Vernell Guéret failed to treat Sir Eugène Lamour like a person, Sir Eugène Lamour should have treated Sir Vernell Guéret the same way.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because that’s reality. It hurts to admit it, but no matter how idealistic ethics and theory may be, people’s hearts don’t work that way. If someone tries to kill me, then for it to be worth it—and to make sure I’m never hurt like that again—I have to be prepared to dig their grave myself.”

“Then what are you planning to do?”

Mecklenburg said nothing. Askanien surely knew that no one would answer a question like that. Askanien soon nodded.

“I see. Whatever it is, it probably wouldn’t be legal.”

Think what you want. Mecklenburg ignored Askanien’s remark and continued.

“As I said earlier, whether I understand it or not, I’ve realized that something fundamentally wrong is running rampant. And if we want to see justice done, I don’t think things can stay like this.”

“Heh…”

Askanien leaned back against the seat with his arms crossed and gave an irritating little laugh. He quickly stopped laughing and looked out the window. Watching him carefully, Mecklenburg hesitated before speaking.

“I… don’t fully understand his principles as an artist, or what he’s been going through as a famous person, but after going over it all in my head, I think I’ve come to understand something.”

“You say you went over it all in your head. You sound like you were studying Sir Eugène Lamour’s press conference.”

“It’s a subject I can’t understand, so I wanted to keep thinking about it until I could. I couldn’t understand why Sir Eugène Lamour got so angry, and I wanted to figure out why I felt so frustrated and wronged when I didn’t even understand him or the reason for it. So now, at least intellectually, I’ve come to understand something.”

“What is it?”

“I do think it would be better if Sir Eugène Lamour received psychological treatment, and I don’t think he has a particularly good personality either. But that’s a separate matter from the suffering he’s endured all this time. He’s been suffering in ways I don’t really understand, but it’s still suffering. And yet he called them his fellow citizens? Yes, I was frustrated by that even though I didn’t understand it or know why. It doesn’t even make sense. They aren’t his fellow citizens. Every single one of them is a murderer of Sir Eugène Lamour, aren’t they? Is it right to accept murderers as your fellow citizens? I must have had those thoughts buried somewhere in my unconscious without even realizing it. That’s why I felt wronged by his kindness.”

Askanien began to stare at Mecklenburg as though seeing right through him. For some reason, Mecklenburg felt as if he were revealing even things he himself didn’t know. He fell silent, wondering if the understanding he had arrived at was somehow wrong. When no response came, he spoke again.

“Those aren’t the only things that constitute insults. What was so innocent about the curiosity that led to that press conference? Cheap jokes like, ‘Is Eugène Lamour secretly an alcoholic?’ or ‘Did Eugène Lamour remarry because he’s obsessed with women?’—those are insults. I once read a theory that because Eugène Lamour was so obsessed with women that he remarried, his paintings had become irresponsible toward art. At the time, I dismissed it as nonsense. But thinking about it now, there must have been people who didn’t. Some probably believed it seriously, while others probably spread such theories around as jokes. He could ignore things strangers said about him once or twice, but perhaps it gradually became too much to bear, until it finally led to an emotional press conference like the one we saw today. The rude things I’ve seen must be only a tiny fraction of what Eugène Lamour has been exposed to. When you think of it that way, it’s only natural that Eugène Lamour decided to retire.”

“…….”

“At the very least, I think I can vaguely understand why Sir Lamour said it would be better to die today and appear in the obituaries tomorrow. When I thought of it as someone else’s problem, I couldn’t understand it. But if anyone were put in his position, they wouldn’t be able to endure this situation. Those who seriously criticize him, or throw out jokes disguised as humor or simple curiosity, might think of themselves as potential customers of Eugène Lamour and therefore consider themselves close to him. But to Eugène Lamour, they’re strangers. A group of strangers armed with education and pens. And, as if that weren’t enough, Lamour has to be talked about by tens of millions of French citizens whose faces he doesn’t even know.”

Strangely, no answer came. Mecklenburg found the night strange, with nothing but the rumble of the carriage wheels, the sound of the wind, and his own voice reaching his ears, and continued.

“That must be why Eugène Lamour had no choice but to retire. He must have felt that showing his paintings to people who spouted nonsense about them only damaged him as a person. For example, if someone had to keep going to work while hearing bizarre rumors about himself instead of anything about the work he actually did, I don’t think anyone would want to stay in that job.”

Having come to accept Lamour’s retirement, Mecklenburg felt a little bitter about it. He rested his chin on his hand and turned his head.

“Really… I did want to buy one at least once.”

“Even now, I still wouldn’t have guessed you liked paintings, Senior.”

“A noble without an appreciation for art is no true noble.”

Askanien laughed. Mecklenburg glared at him, and Askanien raised an eyebrow. Mecklenburg turned away and said, “I don’t understand. Understanding too much isn’t good for you, either. It seems Sir Eugène Lamour needs to understand less, if only so he can live properly.”

“That judgment itself is probably something Sir Lamour never wanted. You’re trying to understand Sir Lamour now just to ease your own frustration, aren’t you?”

“…I was too hasty.”

Mecklenburg frowned.

“Even if we say there was nothing he could do about that, while I can’t say much about his personality, he certainly seems to be a good person at heart. Put bluntly, Sir Eugène Lamour didn’t know Sir Vernell Guéret at all. Sir Vernell Guéret knew Sir Eugène Lamour through his work, but the reverse wasn’t true. And yet, even after being insulted by strangers, Sir Eugène Lamour still acknowledged them as his fellow citizens. What kind of people are these fellow citizens of his? No matter how much of the anger he’s built up over more than a decade Sir Eugène Lamour expresses in a press conference like today’s, some of his fellow citizens will still misunderstand what he meant. Some will think he held the press conference to show off his wealth. Some will think he did it to get a little sympathy. Others will think, ‘If he hadn’t said things like that just because they didn’t suit my tastes, I could have supported him more. He was too hasty.’ I suppose I can’t fault Sir Eugène Lamour for choosing to embrace even that, but it’s still frustrating to watch. If what Sir Eugène Lamour wanted was recognition of his wealth, sympathy for his situation, and support… it would be the complete opposite of what he actually wanted. He warned us that he wanted to disappear because he couldn’t take it anymore. He wanted everyone to forget him, just as he said.”

Askanien had been sitting with his eyes closed, his fingers resting against his temple and brow bone. Slowly, he opened his eyes. His pink irises were unsettling. Mecklenburg held his breath, wondering if he had said something wrong. Beneath the light and shadows reflected by the dim carriage lamps, Askanien fixed his pupils on Mecklenburg and moved his lips.

“‘Warned us,’ did you say?”

“Ah, well…”

Mecklenburg hesitated before speaking.

“Was that a strange way to put it? It was only my analysis.”

“Go on. I’m curious.”

“Sir Eugène Lamour said that whether he was alive or dead, strangers would continue to make him the subject of their conversations, and that he could never escape that burden. In short, I don’t think Sir Eugène Lamour intends to stay alive for much longer.”

“Why?”

“As you could tell from the way he spoke at the press conference and from his retirement announcement, Sir Eugène Lamour was already exhausted. And by declaring his retirement, he has lost the only thing that was keeping him from completely leaving this world. Even if that brush was what gave Sir Eugène Lamour his fame and drove him to this point, it was also his last barrier and his last responsibility. If continuing to paint despite his suffering was the last courtesy he could show to those waiting to see his exhibitions, then now that he has broken his brush, he no longer has any professional obligation left to fulfill. He may be happy right now because he can finally escape the public, but when I think about it in the long run, I can’t help but wonder whether this is really what’s best for Sir Eugène Lamour.”

Askanien quietly looked at Mecklenburg. Mecklenburg continued, “…I feel rather guilty talking about my own conclusions after hearing about Sir Lamour’s suffering, but I put aside my personal opinions and tried to piece together everything I’ve read from his official interviews and press conferences. Since I couldn’t understand him, I felt I had to approach it that way. I’m not a psychological expert, but… I’m not an idiot, either. The fact that his words were moving toward death is rather obvious when he said it himself. And that’s why I have a feeling that Sir Lamour might be in a grave a year from now.”

The carriage continued on in silence. After a long while, Askanien spoke.

“You’re not the representative of the 98th Unit for nothing, Senior.”

“So you think the same way I do?”

Mecklenburg had been wondering whether he had somehow failed to understand what Eugène Lamour had been asking for despite hearing the entire press conference, so he answered immediately. Feeling himself sink into a strange gloom, he looked out the window and continued.

“I’m glad to have Sir Nikolaus’s recognition.”

No one said anything. Mecklenburg opened the window and looked out at Eugène Lamour’s carriage and the night scenery as he muttered, “I’m glad we came to guard him. Sir Lamour wouldn’t have brought a gun into the country, would he? If he did, we need to take it away from him. Right now is the perfect time for suicide.”

“You seem to like Sir Eugène Lamour quite a lot.”

“Not personally… No, I don’t even know him well enough to say that. Never mind. But it’s certainly true that I respect him as a painter. That doesn’t matter right now, though. We can’t just let an innocent civilian die.”

“That’s a new side of you, Senior. More importantly, are you saying you intend to stop him from putting himself in a coffin?”

“Of course.”

“Would Sir Eugène Lamour want that?”

“You’re insane… Of course we have to stop him. What kind of crazy thing are you saying? Have you truly lost your mind?!”

“No.”

Askanien paused before speaking.

“I have not lost my mind.”

Wait. At some point, Askanien’s attitude had changed. While his somewhat relaxed expression was still the same, Mecklenburg’s instincts were telling him something was wrong. When had it started? He had been doing most of the talking himself, so it was hard to pinpoint when the change had taken place.

Askanien suddenly changed the subject.

“Sir Eugène Lamour’s patron’s godmother is a member of the French Imperial Family. Having someone from the French Imperial Family two connections removed from him may be an unnecessary cause for concern, but… ah, there’s something about this that bothers me. And there’s another issue that could become a problem. I wonder if you know what it is.”

“…Go on.”

“You already know well enough, so why ask me?”

“Are you teasing me?”

“Would you persuade me now?”

Askanien’s tone was strange enough that Mecklenburg swallowed hard. What was he supposed to convince him of? Askanien either disagreed with Mecklenburg, didn’t understand him, was trying to understand him, or was trying to prove that he was right.

“If the French Imperial Family had nothing to do with him, I wouldn’t stop Sir Eugène Lamour.”

Mecklenburg felt as though he had just been struck. It took him a moment to process what Askanien was saying.

“What?”

“Why do you think we have to stop Sir Eugène Lamour from making his own decision?”

Why did they have to stop Sir Eugène Lamour’s decision? He wanted Mecklenburg to convince him of that? Why? It was something anyone should understand without having to be convinced. Mecklenburg felt confusion taking over his mind. Askanien looked out the carriage window.

“Sir Eugène Lamour must have been very happy when he first made his debut. Before his wife died, when people focused on his work rather than the painter himself, he probably managed to live as a professional, more or less. But after his wife died and his style changed, some viewers became uncomfortable and began criticizing Eugène Lamour himself rather than his work.”

“…That’s what happened. So?”

“There are still countless people who support what he does. The people who continue to encourage him to keep act… painting, they must still be grateful to Eugène Lamour. But Eugène Lamour must be overwhelmed. Experiencing all kinds of vile insults from people whose faces you don’t even know is, in truth, no different from being attacked by a stranger while walking down the street. You were right when you said that even an academic approach without empathy can surprisingly arrive at the right answer. But if there is one thing you got wrong, it is that the revenge and victory you want are impossible. Eventually, because there is nothing I can do, I find myself hoping that someday I might escape that shameless abyss. Until the moment I realize that it is something impossible on a broader scale, I live while holding on to hope. But once I realize that it is a wish that cannot be fulfilled no matter how much disgrace I endure, all those years of hope become overwhelming. Then it becomes frightening to see not only the faces of those who insult me, but even the faces of those who support me. Seeing my full name written on a screen becomes the most terrifying thing in the world. And that leaves behind an unbearable sense of guilt. There is only one way I can use to escape that guilt while seeing nothing, but it is not a way to be forgotten. I will still live among people who don’t know me even after that day. The moment I instinctively realize that I may never be able to escape, not even after countless generations have passed, I find myself wishing I could turn the Earth’s timeline back to before they knew my name. Why did I ever step into the world of art without knowing anything? What am I showing myself to people for?”

For some reason, Mecklenburg felt his heart beginning to beat faster. He didn’t know why, because it wasn’t as though he understood what Askanien was saying. A vast, empty feeling seemed to swallow them, as though nothing existed in the world beyond this carriage. The voice he was hearing now felt strangely hollow.

“Countless acts of love are overshadowed by just a fraction of hatred and the slightest insults, no matter how powerful or destructive they may be. And there is no longer any sense of professional duty holding him back. Eugène Lamour has reached a point where he cannot be forgotten, whether he lives or dies. But if he wants to put an end to all the rudeness, insults, and exhaustion, the better choice is obvious. Then why should he choose to cling to life, even after being given the freedom of having no more responsibilities?”

The expressionless Askanien, his face impossible to read, did not turn toward Mecklenburg. He spoke to the carriage window instead.

“If you still think he should, could you explain why to me?”