Chapter 73 – Gustave Eiffel

Gustave Eiffel.

To be honest, I don't know much about him.

Why would I? In fact, most people don't even realize that the Eiffel Tower is named after a person.

In the future, didn't he say something like, "I suppose I should be envious of that tower. It's more famous than I am"?

So I didn't know. No, I hadn't even considered it.

"People who know nothing about architecture keep saying my tower is an eyesore, that it will collapse soon, and all sorts of nonsense. So I got so fed up that I just moved in here myself."

"Hahaha. I see."

I never would have guessed that Gustave Eiffel actually lived on the top floor of the Eiffel Tower.

Eiffel placed a hand on my shoulder and pointed in one direction. Following his gesture, there was a palace in the distance.

"That direction, that's where the real treasure is. Do you see? From here, you can see the Mars Field and the Palais de Chaillot in a straight line! Stupid fools. This view is something only pioneers like me and Edison know about!!"

"Um, excuse me. Could we talk for a moment?"

I said, glancing at the children.

Even though Monty and Madge had outgrown their teenage years, there was still little Mary, who was only five. We should use kind words!

I had heard that Maupassant had dined here, but I never imagined that Eiffel would have such a storied history as well.

Moreover,

"Edison? Are you talking about Thomas Edison from America?"

"Yes. Didn't you know? He designed the elevator that comes all the way up here."

It did take some time to review thousands of blueprints.

Seeing Eiffel's smiling face, I thought to myself, How would I know that?

I couldn't help but feel stunned. Even Edison, the king of inventions? Isn't he someone I've indirectly connected with through Kid Kevin?

Wasn't it Kevin Bacon who said that, in the world, you can connect with anyone through just six degrees of separation? That's exactly what I felt like now.

"By the way, I didn't catch your name. What is it?"

"Oh, I'm Hanslow Jin, working at the Miller Art Prize. Just call me Hanslow."

I said, pulling out and handing over my business card.

Eiffel took it, examined it closely, and then tilted his head, saying.

"An art prize employee? Not a governess?"

"Well, it's a dual role. I'm quite capable, you see."

"Haha, I like your confidence. But more importantly... it's an unusual name, yet it seems oddly familiar. Isn't there a novelist with that name from England?"

"Oh, that's me."

"Hmm?"

Gustave Eiffel looked at me for a moment. I calmly spoke to him.

"I am that novelist. Hanslow Jin. In my home country, surnames come before given names, so Jin is the surname."

"... Could it be Pierre Perris?"

"Oh, yes. You mean Peter Perry."

No matter how many times I hear it, French pronunciation still sounds strange. Come to think of it, Strauss also called Peter Perry "Péter," didn't he?

Is it something like localization?

"Vincente Villar?"

"I recognize Vincent Villiers..."

The more I heard, the more I didn't understand. It was like discovering that the original name of the character Sakuragi in Slam Dunk was actually Hanamichi.

Let's see, "de l'aube" was morning, right?

"Are you perhaps referring to DawnBringer?"

"Yes, that's it."

"Well, that's correct."

"Haha."

At this point, the most famous architect in France alternated between looking at me and my business card.

"So, you are."

Eiffel then scratched his head. After glancing at me, he asked.

"A prestigious art prize employee who recognizes the artistic value of my tower."

"Yes."

"And a governess who takes such good care of three children."

"Yes."

"And, on top of that, you're an Asian who is the most famous writer in England?"

"Do you think it's a lie?"

"Anyone would think so."

Well, it doesn't matter if he doesn't believe it.

I shrugged my shoulders as I spoke. Eiffel, after contemplating for a moment, headed to the kitchen and shouted.

"Housekeeper! Bring out the most expensive meat and cake today! And wine...!"

"Oh, there are children, so no alcohol."

"Put away the wine! It's a party!!"

Indeed, the French know how to enjoy themselves. I thought with a grin.

"So, the rumoured illness was just a pretense?"

"You're expressing it a bit harshly. It was a period of rest due to 'stress from the agony of creation.'"

"Stress? I don't know what that means, but isn't it just another way of saying you didn't want to work? Hahaha!! It's a masterpiece, truly a masterpiece!!"

Eiffel said, patting me on the shoulder.

Ahem, well, if you go by the common sense of the 19th century, that would make sense. Back then, depression or PTSD were dismissed as mere signs of weak willpower!

Still, his voice was unbearably loud. How can he be so loud without even having had a drink? At least the children were left with the housekeeper.

Fortunately, being someone as wealthy as Gustave Eiffel, the housekeeper spoke English, and the children could manage some French, so we could converse.

"Honestly, I enjoyed your writing, but I have many complaints!!"

"Really?"

"Of course!! Damn, writing that flatters the public. Don't you have anything like that? 'I'm the best in the world! You swine, shut up and admire my phenomenal art!' That kind of thing."

What kind of artist does that make him? He's just a character with a broken personality.

I asked, stunned by Eiffel's claims.

"Did you create such art, Mr. Eiffel?"

"Of course!"

Wow... he's quite confident.

While I was at a loss for words, Gustave Eiffel, perhaps having a lot to say, suddenly stood up and started stomping his feet.

"Just think about it. This steel structure! The world's first 300-meter-high tower! I know it's considered an eyesore aesthetically. But what of it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Being big is what counts."

Gustave Eiffel's eyes sparkled as he looked at me.

It was like the starry eyes of Oscar Wilde or Strauss, but a bit more mischievous, and thus even more innocent.

With those eyes, Eiffel whispered as if revealing a secret.

"It's simply good on its own!!"

"..."

Is he just a fool?

I looked at Eiffel with a cold, incredulous gaze. But he didn't seem to notice and continued passionately gesticulating and speaking fervently.

"Just think about it! Doesn't seeing a huge battleship, a big cannon, or even a huge... make you awestruck?"

"What on earth are you saying in front of a young man?!"

"Oh! You're still not married?"

Eiffel looked at me as if I were the most pitiful fool in the world. Why should I be made to look so unfortunate?

Then it occurred to me that this man was, after all, a Frenchman.

"Anyway, think about it. Do you know how much it cost to build this tower? Everyone criticized me, saying I was throwing money away! But I was not wrong! Do you know what happened once I started charging admission for this tower?"

"What happened?"

"In just three years! I recouped all the money in only three years. The foolish government gave me the rights to collect admission fees for 20 years! Hahaha!"

It's not an unknown story. It's quite famous even today.

But hearing it directly, it's definitely a bit envious. It's like money is multiplying without doing anything.

"So, do you understand now?"

"What... are you saying?"

"This tower, which I named with my name, represents the triumph of human civilization and scientific intellect itself!"

At that moment, I understood why the sparkle in Eiffel's eyes was different from those of Strauss or Oscar Wilde.

His eyes were not those of a genius.

They were the eyes of a pioneer. Foreseeing the future with conviction, acting on that conviction, and ultimately achieving victory...

"Human science, industry, and aesthetics! It's proof that it has finally surpassed the ancient Tower of Babel, reaching even the heavens once thought to be the domain of the gods! Oh... I am the first to set foot on that grand, uncharted territory!!"

The eyes of a conqueror.

They are like the sun.

"So, you did it deliberately?"

"Yes! Why else would I make it a massive steel structure like this? This is just the framework! The framework for the great skyscrapers humanity will constantly build! I reached 300 meters in the 19th century, didn't I? So in the 20th and 21st centuries, my successors, their successors, and their successors will finally reach a 1-kilometer-tall skyscraper!!"

It was a statement deeply imbued with the ego of a Frenchman and a conqueror.

However, I couldn't dismiss it as the ramblings of a madman.

The 63 Building is 250 meters.

Lotte World Tower is 550 meters tall.

And the Burj Khalifa is a whopping 800 meters.

Humanity was indeed, as he said, moving closer to a 1-kilometer skyscraper.

In fact, there were many rumours that the Jeddah Tower being built in Saudi Arabia would surpass the 1-kilometer mark when completed. The modern-day Tower of Babel, perhaps?

Whether that is possible or not, I don't know. I'm a web novel writer, not an architect or civil engineer.

But at least.

"Yes. It will surely happen."

"Hahaha! So you understand too!"

"And I understand what you're trying to say."

I said, looking at Eiffel with a bitter smile, facing the fiery gaze of his sun-like eyes.

"After all, you know everything about the path ahead. So, instead of fawning, if you're ahead, the public and money will naturally follow. Isn't that what you want to say?"

"You understand well! But who knows that?"

"Because I do."

In the end, it's the Enlightenment era's idea as commonly referred to by people of this time.

The perspective is that as human civilization accumulates scientific knowledge, the entire history of humanity will progress continuously.

Without that certainty, no one would think of building a 300-meter steel structure out of nowhere.

It's just that...

"That's not my path."

"I just wanted to comfort the people around me."

"Hmmm, comfort, you say..."

"I don't have any grand thoughts about creating art. My motto is just to make it fun."

To be honest, the Enlightenment idea of art was only valid until the 20th century.

What was Enlightenment in art? It was about progressive elites leading the public forward to 'enlighten' them, right?

But I'm not such a noble elite, so why would I have such grand thoughts? Leading and pointing out? That's too arrogant.

So, I'm just selling what the public likes while hoping for my own well-being.

That habit just makes me seem like a pioneer in the 19th century.

In other words.

"I'm just dancing the same dance I did on the shoulders of giants in my hometown. The giants here don't know me, so it naturally looks new."

"Hmph. How boring."

"Well, it doesn't matter."

I scratched my neck awkwardly.

"A person can't always look up at the sky and rise. Eventually, they'll get tired and collapse. Isn't it nice to have 'comforting art' that lets you take a break so that the leather strap doesn't break?"

Even God rested on the seventh day after creating heaven and earth for six days.

At those words, Eiffel pondered for a moment.

"Hmmm, taking a break..."

Then Gustave Eiffel nodded repeatedly and extended his rough hand to me.

"Yes, I suppose there could be something like that. I thought of you as a junior, but it was a ridiculous misunderstanding."

"Well, you don't have to be a junior in terms of ideology."

I shook hands with him.

"Consider me a junior in life."

"Hahaha!! You really don't hold back, do you?"

Eiffel laughed heartily while continuously shaking my hand.

Hmm, he's becoming more and more of an attractive character.

People with firm beliefs are quite fascinating characters, no matter where you put them.

Even if he's not a mad scientist but a mad artist, and a mad architect at that. Definitely unique.

"By the way, 'comforting art.' It's quite a good phrase for a writer, I must say."

"Well, it's just my personal belief."

"No, but it seems plausible to me. And it looks like there are people who need to hear that."

"Wait a moment."

Gustave Eiffel said that and then took out a notebook from the corner and handed it to me.

"Take this to a workshop. If you don't like it, you can just throw it away."

"What's this?"

"There's a workshop down there."

Eiffel pointed to a street in Paris with his finger.

"There's a friend there who's been struggling a lot, and I think hearing your story might help resolve it a bit."

"Hmmm."

I asked whose workshop it was. He answered lightly.

"Alphonse Maria Mucha."

< End of Gustave Eiffel >