Surviving as a Writer in the British Empire

Vincent Villiers (2)

squeak, squeak—

“Look at you.”

Kiyiyiik – Kwajik -!

“Please let me live just once.”

well dressed. No, the word ‘worn’ would be appropriate. The clothes themselves were London’s finest, but now they are torn and soiled and rags.

Anyway, the gentleman lowered his head and said so.

Hearing that, the handyman… to be precise, the servants disguised as such hesitated for a moment, but that was all.

They resumed what they were doing.

squeak, squeak—

Seeing them continue their work, the gentleman raised his head and shouted.

“Please! John, Harold! Didn’t I serve you a drink several times? At this rate, I will die!”

“Vincent, why are people who everyone knows like this?”

“I want that, Mr. Lawyer.”

At the cold words of John and Harold, Vincent, the lawyer, gritted his teeth and asked.

“Is it 1 Gongja?”

“…”

That’s right.

Vincent was clear even now. The words of the first Prince, Gregory Villiers, as he tapped him on the shoulder.

—I don’t trust my wife, but Vincent, I do. You’re the only one who can take care of that money.

─Please. you know? If you take it and hide in a corner of any Asian colony, you can live as an aristocrat for the rest of your life. But to entrust this to you without hesitation means that I trust you that much.

-Don’t worry, Scotland Yard will never know. I decided to end it with the missing funds. Queen… No, you can’t even find that old hag’s guard dogs.

Of course you can’t find it

When John and Harold’s work is done, and he gets into that boat with a hole in it… he will forever sink to the bottom of the dark blue Caribbean Sea and become fish food.

It can never be. Vincent gritted his teeth.

“It’s 60,000 pounds (about 14 billion won)! 60,000 pounds. I don’t need my share, share it among you guys!”

“…”

“It’s money that will rot even if your grandchildren are staggering and the toilet is covered with gold! Do you really not need it?”

“Mr. Vincent.”

John, who had been listening silently, sighed.

“Then why didn’t you run away?”

“…”

Vincent couldn’t open his mouth.

It was not wrong. If he really wanted to run away, he could have run away.

But it didn’t. Why?

“My, do I need to say more?”

The answer was obvious. Because he was afraid of Villiers.

Those who are not afraid of even the queen of the empire where the sun never sets. A British aristocratic family that has been in power for 200 years.

There was no way they couldn’t find a lawyer from the East End just because they were hiding. It was easy enough to understand even for servants who had not studied so much and did rougher jobs.

“It’s time.”

“Burn it.”

“Wait a minute! Please, please save me!”

“Stop it. Mr. Lawyer.”

John said coldly.

“This is enough to pay for a drink.”

“Hey, you son of a b*tch!!”

“You don’t have parents, wife and children anyway, do you? Just go easy on yourself.”

does that make sense?! Vincent wanted to say that, but Harold was quicker.

With his mouth gagged and several broken ribs, he could no longer speak.

It was as John said.

Perhaps being killed quietly and in a way that is less painful might be the least mercy they can do.

So, feel at ease…

‘Don’t be funny.’

thought Vincent.

‘Do you think I will die like this? Don’t be funny! If that’s the case, I wouldn’t even crawl up from the bottom of the East End!!’

‘Villiers, cursed villiers! never go alone no matter what! Even if you sell your soul to the devil!’

‘I will avenge you guys!’

The thought was over there.

The water has risen.

I was short of breath.

and.

and.

“Huh!!”

“Oh my God, Vinny!! Are you okay?!”

“Doctor, call the doctor! Damn it, they are like these incompetent bastards!!”

Vincent blinked blankly.

The anger of Mibu, who embraced him, stung his nose. The shrill, cracked voice of a middle-aged man I didn’t want to hear hit my ears.

“Do you know who this kid is?! He is the precious youngest member of the Villiers family! If there are even the slightest aftereffects, I will kill them all!!”

From noble mtl dot com

“No, of course. Of course, Gongja-nim!!”

and.

Vincent saw the face of the author who laughed at Mibu and the middle aged, that is, among the parents.

It must have been. Vincent, who had served him for half his life, did not recognize him, even if he was slightly younger.

Gregory Villiers.

The eldest son of the Duke of Buckingham.

and his enemies.

‘You poor bastard. It’s ridiculous. A guy like you is my youngest brother.’

Seeing him say that without being heard with his lips, Vincent wanted to laugh in reverse.

Aww, that’s really ridiculous.

I never thought I would be reborn into the family of an enemy.

Whether it was God or the devil that caused this mysterious harmony, Vincent did not know.

But one thing was certain.

‘Things you cherish.’

property. glory. authority.

take it all away Vincent Villiers made such a quiet promise.

***

＜Peter Perry＞ is a popular children’s novel in London.

However, that doesn’t mean everyone likes ＜Peter Perry＞.

There were many people who disliked the children’s novel itself because it was childish, and there were many people who fundamentally displeased ＜Peter Perry＞ itself.

It was also an unavoidable part.

There is no perfect work in the world, and there is no such thing as a ‘masterpiece idea’ that can be loved by everyone, at least in this world.

The reasons why people hate Peter Perry are varied.

Some have pointed out that Peter Perry was far from the beauty of prosody and highly refined sentences favored in conventional English literature.

They were mostly aristocratic.

Others have criticized Peter Perry for being overly off-topic, dazzling people and distracting them from really important social issues.

They were mostly socialists.

And a writer who satisfies both of these, George Bernard Shaw, was once sarcastic.

“A doctor and comfort are the only things an abused mentally ill child needs when he babbles about his dreams.”

Of course, those who knew him didn’t think it was real contempt.

Because it was Bernard Shaw who wrote several novels parodying even Shakespeare while pretending to mock him. Considering what he usually says, this level would be rather close to rave reviews.

In fact, he is a steady reader of ＜Temple Bar＞ as well as ＜Weekly Temple＞, which he began serializing after moving from ＜Peter Perry＞ a few months ago.

However, it was only the way George Bernard Shaw respected his peers as a vitriol, and he certainly hated ＜Peter Perry＞ anyway.

So, my close friend and hometown junior, William Butler Yeats, was very sorry for Bernard Shaw’s opinion and ran to his house as soon as he saw ＜Temple Bar＞ published in the morning.

Since they had been friends for a long time, the housekeeper did not stop him, and Shaw was single.

That is, he was alone.

“Bernard, Mr. Bernard!! Are you there?”

“Ummm… what’s going on, William? Now is the time…”

Realizing that the sun hadn’t risen yet, Bernard Shaw thought about punching Yeats for a moment. But it didn’t. Because that was annoying too.

Either way, William Yates tried to wake up his 9-year-old senior writer.

“It’s time, go to sleep, please look at this!”

“I’m really sorry… but I’m really tired. Yesterday, too, I had a hard discussion with the Labor Party officials…”

“What about the discussion, you must have been drinking alcohol.”

As an Irishman, no one hated alcohol, writers often wrote while drunk, and politicians made a living drinking alcohol.

These three overlapped, so even Bernard Shaw could not dislike drinking.

But that’s why he was suffering from a hangover every day, and he really wanted to kill Yeats who was trying to shake him up even though he knew it.

‘Just try it, it’s not a big deal.’

I will really make you shed a tear.

Shaw thought so and stood up from his seat, clutching his throbbing head.

And when I found out that Yeats was making such a fuss because of ＜Temple Bar＞, I thought that I should have beaten him and continued to sleep.

“William, you son of a b*tch. I can understand that you are sincere about fairy-like things that children watch and that you want to revive Ireland’s unique culture with it, but ＜Peter Perry＞ is really not Irish, no matter how you think about it…”

“Bernard, brother! That’s not it. Isn’t this ＜Weekly Temple＞!?”

“ok?”

Bernard Shaw frowned.

And when I still couldn’t see it, I rubbed my eyes to remove the mucus and found my glasses on the desk and put them on.

Yes, this was definitely ＜Temple Bar＞, not ＜Weekly Temple＞.

then.

“… Is this a new work?”

Title, Vincent Villiers.

Author, Hanslo Jean.

‘No, while one is already serialized.’

It’s also a weekly series that would be burdensome.

Even so, it’s a new work… can a wrist be left?

Or what, does this writer even have four arms like those Indian gods?

Bernard Shaw was dumbfounded but slowly turned the pages. And in a good way, I was shocked.

A gloomy and intense revenge play, completely different from Peter Perry’s, came over him.

furthermore······.

“······water.”

“yes?”

“Go and ask the housekeeper for a glass of water. hurry!”

“Ah, yes!”

After pouring the water Yeats had brought into his mouth, George Bernard Shaw began to read the sentence without stopping, or rather to suck it up.

It was strange. Is this really a novel written by the author of ＜Peter Perry＞? Bernard Shaw questioned himself, but was not sure.

Of course, the ignorance of overly short sentences and rhymes that I felt in ＜Peter Perry＞ was still the same.

but.

‘Vocabulary, vocabulary is correct.’

George Bernard Shaw, no one else, could definitely feel it.

Bondi, British English is the difference between the language used by the lower class and the English used by the upper class.

There is a big difference in vocabulary depending on the class, so-called ‘Pardon English’. Writing a bathroom as ‘toilet’ was a typical example.

So far, Hanslo Jean has used these words randomly in ＜Peter Perry＞.

It is not for nothing that the suspicion that he is an American has spread.

However, in this novel, ＜Vincent Villiers＞, the main character, Vincent, could not hide that he was from the East End, so he used Farden English even after his success.

Even after being reincarnated, there is a scene where the language between these two classes is used freely, and the servants are recruited using it.

Can you express language like this?

this is an amazing article

Free thinking, captivating development, and woven atmosphere instantly captured Bernard Shaw.

So I wasn’t even sure.

Could this be the resurrection of Charles Dickens, the eternal idol of workers, or Wilkie Collins, who is said to be his successor?

For a moment, it was shocking enough to make me think heretical things that I shouldn’t do as a proud socialist and non-religious person.

“How are you, Bernard?”

“… that’s amazing.”

I don’t know how they hid this article.

George Bernard Shaw so lamented. I wanted to read the next episode right now, even though I can’t say that the monthly serial volume is by no means small.

Of course, before that, it would be first to start with true education from Yeats, who is confident as if he had been praised, as if he were saying “Isn’t that right?”