chapter - 28

 The expression "like a movie" was somewhat inadequate to describe the magical enchantment.

It felt... like a dream. Before my eyes, the actors performed, but the surrounding environment changed moment by moment, as if this world existed solely for the actors, harmonizing with them.

Thus, it was a peculiar occurrence.

[Hamlet: To be or not to be, that is the question]

This performance was purely theatrical.

When Hamlet soliloquized, he seemed to be praying alone despite standing among the actors. As if there was an invisible wall between him and the others, he soliloquized alone.

Even the magical world could not fully envelop the actor into itself.

[Hamlet: Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune]

This was the difference between theater and film.

In a film, every character belongs to the world, but a stage actor belongs solely to the play.

The world does not exist.

Only the actor and the play exist, and thus, any place can become a stage. Without the play, theater is nothing, no matter how splendid the magic.

Realizing this, I recalled the disappointment I felt while watching the play "Alice in Wonderland." Just as Hamlet finished his soliloquy and shouted at Ophelia,

“─Lady, in thy orisons, be all my sins remembered.”

I was engrossed in this "theater."

When I came to, the audience was on their feet, applauding the actors.

I, too, stood up and clapped along.

.

.

.

"Hamlet" was performed in most theaters across the Empire.

Unlike novels, no matter how many theaters staged it, only a few could actually watch it due to limited tickets.

As a result, the play "Hamlet" became a symbol of high culture. Nobles, merchants, and the wealthy spared no expense to see it.

"Oh, how tragic it is... I've been captivated by it and have seen it three times already. Every viewing reveals something new... Homer truly is a genius!"

"Hehe, I've seen it five times. Did you know? There are actually two versions of the 'Hamlet' script."

"What?"

Seeing "Hamlet" multiple times became a symbol of wealth.

In the process, it was revealed that there were two different editions of "Hamlet," which further increased the number of repeat viewers.

"It seems the playwright wrote it with two disciples! The editions are named after them, the Camel edition and the Plummer edition."

"Camel? The disciple who co-wrote 'Alice in Wonderland'?"

To quell the fervor, Kindersley Publishing officially published the script of "Hamlet," but it had little effect.

Instead, it only amplified the readers' desire to see the play.

And of course,

there were always those who turned people’s desires into money.

"Tickets! I need tickets! How much?"

"Well, I got this one with some difficulty... How much are you willing to pay?"

Scalpers began to run rampant.

.

.

.

"Ha ha! Look at the overwhelming audience reviews, you stuttering fool!"

"It's not overwhelming, not really... Just a 3% difference... Besides, the script reviews favored mine..."

"Critics are just petty people who bash even Homer's work. Their opinions don't matter."

"But I won..."

"Homer himself said to be judged by the audience, so I win!"

"But look here. The Plummer edition of Hamlet is full of shallow, exaggerated lines... Camel's edition is the pinnacle of Homer's art..."

"Critics don't matter!"

The relationship between Hamlet’s two co-authors, Rolls Camel and Ian Plummer, was like that of cats and dogs.

Ian Plummer, full of aristocratic pride, was more of a populist artist. When revising Hamlet’s lines, he focused on making them as intuitive and easy to listen to as possible, considering the audience's perspective.

Rolls Camel, who stuttered, was a typical artist trapped in his own world. When revising Hamlet’s lines, he immersed himself in his artistic fervor, striving to fill them with the most innovative and beautiful expressions.

Thus, they were bound to clash. They were perfect opposites.

"Homer, isn't it true? I won in the audience reviews, so I am the victor, right?!"

"Isn't my writing better? Homer...?"

"Uh, can't we just call it a draw? Both were excellent. Why the need for a winner...?"

"But Homer, you said─."

"I just suggested publishing both and seeing people's reactions. Isn't it fun to see how they respond?"

I had no intention of judging which was better.

I wasn't qualified to do so, and more importantly, I lacked the ability to evaluate. To me, both were incredibly enjoyable.

If I could enjoy more literature, that was enough for me.

"In audience reviews, Ian Plummer won, and in critics' reviews, Rolls Camel won. Isn't that enough?"

"...I understand."

Ian Plummer seemed less convinced.

"Um, Ian, have you read 'The Count of Monte Cristo'?"

"Of course. The novel that took first place from us, right? I've read it."

"It was fun, right?"

"...Yes."

"Isn't it more entertaining than my novels?"

"That's not true. It has internal inconsistencies and poor historical accuracy."

"But it's fun, right?"

"‥‥‥."

"Many readers say 'The Count of Monte Cristo' is more entertaining than my novels. Does that mean I lost to the author 'Herodotus'?"

"...No."

"Right?"

"...Yes."

In truth, "Herodotus" was another of my pen names, but Ian Plummer didn't know that.

So this analogy should be effective.

"It's good to have a competitive spirit, but don't get too obsessed with results or victories. Literature is too beautiful to be categorized into winning and losing works, right?"

"Yes, it is."

"Still, um, since Ian Plummer scored higher in audience reviews... How about this?"

"‥‥‥."

"When you publish a work alone, I'll write a recommendation for it."

"…!!!"

In reality, it wasn't a significant privilege.

I didn't intend to withhold my recommendations, and I'd already written one for Rolls Camel's novel.

So, in the end, both received the same treatment.

"Th-thank you! I'll work hard!"

But, of course, appearances matter.

Ian Plummer was so touched that he stuttered. It was amusing, considering he usually called Camel a stutterer.

I nodded slightly and continued.

"Now, about this... Have you heard that scalpers are exploiting the play to make exorbitant profits?"

"Ah, yes. Merchants are like that. Ignorant of honor and seeing art merely as a money-making tool. Beastfolk are inherently flawed, but merchants are particularly despicable for exploiting their fellow humans."

Ian Plummer unleashed a torrent of insults against merchants.

As the son of a nobleman in the House of Lords, he seemed particularly resentful of merchants profiting through monopolies.

Personally, I didn't hold such negative views about merchants in general... but scalpers were different.

Scalpers were parasites eating away at the cultural and artistic world.

"It's natural for merchants to seek profit, but using my work to hold the opportunity to see a play hostage and extorting people is unacceptable. Everyone should have a fair chance to enjoy culture."

"Absolutely right!"

It's fine for the wealthy to buy tickets at higher prices; one cannot fault someone for prioritizing money over culture.

However, scalpers hoard tickets, depriving even the less fortunate of any chance to see the play.

The results may not be fair, but opportunities should be.

"There's currently no legal basis to punish scalpers, so I plan to include a foreword in the published script condemning this 'scalping' behavior. Since it's also your work, I wanted your opinion."

So, I intended to sway public opinion, as I had when publishing Don Quixote Part 2.

Hearing this, Ian Plummer suddenly beamed with confidence and raised his voice.

"In that case, leave it to me!"

"Excuse me?"

"My father is 'Earl Plummer,' the head of the Conservative Party in the House of Lords. He can push through a law in no time."

"Oh."

"If you write a statement on 'scalping,' I'll handle public opinion neatly. Ha ha!"

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.

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"Ah, here for Hamlet tickets, I see? How much are you willing to pay? Lately, the prices have been going up, and..."

"Arrest them all."

"Yes, sir!"

"W-what? What's happening?! Let go! Do you know who I am?"

"Well, I'd like to ask you the same. What made you think you could exploit 'his' work for profit...?"

A week.

That was the time it took to completely eradicate the scalpers infesting the Empire's cultural and artistic world.