Only when the two figures on stage began to converse did the audience's initial shock gradually subside, and their attention focused on the plot unfolding onstage.
The lighting softly illuminated the luxurious drawing-room.
A young maid was picking up a medicine pot and pouring medicine into a cup.
A middle-aged man in a butler's uniform was wiping the furniture in the living room, but his movements were frivolous, clearly just going through the motions.
The maid kept fanning herself and wiping her forehead with a cloth, indicating the room was stiflingly hot.
[GUILLAUME: Fanny, listen to me, I'll say it again. When you see your mother, don't forget to show her the new dress the Madam gave you.
FANNY (impatiently): I heard you.
GUILLAUME (arrogantly): Make her remember whether it was your father who was discerning while working for Master Lavalner, or if she was discerning.
FANNY (with a hint of contempt): Of course, you were discerning!
GUILLAUME: And don't forget to tell your mother that you eat well and drink well here at the Lavalner estate. Serving the Madam and the young master by day, and listening to her at night, returning to our own house to sleep.
FANNY: That doesn't need telling; Mother will ask naturally.
GUILLAUME (chuckling greedily): And also, money! You have a lot of money under your control too!
FANNY (panicked): Money!?
GUILLAUME: Your wages for the past two years, tips, and all the small bits and pieces...
FANNY: Aren't you going to take almost every cent of it? Drinking it! Gambling it away!
GUILLAUME: See, see, you're like that again. Why the rush, the rush, the rush? I'm not asking you for money. Hey, I mean—didn't he also keep giving you money to spend?
FANNY (surprised): Him? Who?
GUILLAUME: The Eldest Young Master, Édouard.
FANNY (blushing): Who says the Eldest Young Master gives me money? Father, don't go crazy from being poor and talking nonsense...
...]
When Guillaume mentioned that "Eldest Young Master Édouard gives Fanny money," his meaningful pause and greedy smile were immediately captured by the audience.
In the France of this era, romantic liaisons between young masters and young maids in aristocratic and bourgeois households were an open secret.
Some even leaned over to whisper to their companions in an ambiguous tone:
"Thunderstorm? Judging by the opening, isn't this going to be a 'racy play'?"
Fanny's blushing and hurried denial only seemed to confirm their speculation in the audience's eyes.
However, as the father and daughter's dialogue deepened, the audience's smiles gradually faded.
This was not a simple romantic anecdote; the lines contained a vast amount of information, rapidly sketching out the complex interpersonal relationships within the family.
"Guillaume's" greed and shamelessness, and his exploitation of his daughter; "Fanny's" innocence, unease, and the pain hidden beneath her playful demeanor...
All of this was clearly conveyed through the actors' performances, which were almost "naturalistic."
There were none of the exaggerated gestures and declamatory tones common in past dramas; their dialogue sounded like everyday conversation actually taking place in a corner of a Parisian mansion.
This "sense of reality" firmly gripped the audience, who had never imagined that drama could be performed this way.
Especially the various light sources subtly arranged on stage—visible and invisible—allowed every detail of the actors' performances to be presented to the audience.
This completely revolutionized the actors' style of performance.
Next, Guillaume began to complain about his wife, Fanny's mother, and mentioned his son "Marcel":
[GUILLAUME (ranting): Hmph! I tell you, marrying your mother, I had to endure terrible humiliation...
FANNY (unwilling to listen): Father.
GUILLAUME (enjoying his rant): Hmph, who knows whose sewer rat's son I was raising.]
The audience frowned.
Guillaume's vulgarity was repulsive, and his verbal abuse of his son "Marcel" deepened the shadow of conflict within this family.
It also made the audience realize that "Marcel" and his mother, who had yet to appear, likely had a complex past.
[FANNY: What has Brother done to deserve you insulting him like that?
GUILLAUME: What has he ever done right by me? Soldiering, hauling freight, working as a machinist in the factory, going to school—which line of work did he ever stick with properly? I finally recommended him to work at Mr. Lavalner's mine, and he started a fight with the foreman there and beat the man up.
FANNY (cautiously): I heard it wasn't until the mine guards fired first that he led the workers to fight back, right?
GUILLAUME: In any case, the boy is a bastard. If you eat other people's money and food, you must listen to them. He ought to have gone on strike properly, and now I have to beg the Master for him!]
FANNY: Did you mishear? Brother said he was meeting the Master himself today, not coming to beg you.
GUILLAUME (smugly): But who else is there to look after him since I'm his father? I can't just ignore it.]
The word "strike" instantly made the French people in the audience look animated.
In the latter half of the 19th century, various workers' movements were burgeoning in France, especially after the Commune; strikes were a very hot topic in society.
Syndicalism, unionism, all sorts of workers' parties... were quite fashionable in Paris.
Some conservative gentlemen showed disapproval, while the audience members sympathetic to the working class sat up straighter, showing keen interest in "Marcel."
"Guillaume," siding with the employer and condemning his son's "bastardly" behavior, immediately made him a "scab" in the eyes of some audience members, increasing their disgust toward him.
Indeed, a short while later, a tall young man in work clothes walked onto the stage—it was "Marcel."
Marcel's appearance immediately brought an atmosphere completely out of place in this luxurious drawing-room.
After a conversation with his "father" and "sister," Marcel's emotions began to erupt—
[MARCEL: I hate them.
FANNY: Ah?! Why?
MARCEL (resentfully): Most people in the Lavalner family are no good. In the two years I spent at the mine, I saw what they did, and I hate them!
FANNY: What did you see?
MARCEL: Fanny, don't look at this luxurious estate; this place is full of death. Every brick here was paid for by the dead workers from the mine!
FANNY: Don't talk nonsense; I heard this house is haunted...
MARCEL: Just now, I saw a young man lying in the garden, pale-faced, eyes closed, looking like he was about to die—I hear that's the Eldest Young Master of the Lavalner family, our boss's son. Ah, he got what he deserved, he got what he deserved.
FANNY: You... he treats people very well, you know that?
MARCEL: His father did all sorts of bad things to get money; of course, he can afford to be charitable.
FANNY: Marcel, two years apart, and you've changed.
MARCEL: I worked in the mine for two years; I haven't changed. I think you have changed.
FANNY: I don't quite understand what you're saying. What you say sounds a bit like Young Master Antoine...
MARCEL: Are you scolding me? Young Master? Hmph, there is no such word in the world!]
Marcel's lines were filled with class hatred and a spirit of resistance.
He bluntly exposed the fact that the wealth of this mansion was built on the blood and tears of the miners, forming a sharp contrast with Guillaume's obsequiousness.
Many in the audience were shaken by this direct confrontation, especially those who deeply felt social injustice.
They held their breath, sensing the power contained within this young worker.
And when Marcel forcefully declared,
"There is no such word in the world (Young Master)!"
Some young audience members even applauded him enthusiastically.
The audience was completely absorbed by the plot.
The initial speculation about a "racy play" at the opening had long vanished, replaced by a completely immersive viewing experience.
They felt as if they were standing in the drawing-room of this Lavalner manor, experiencing the luxurious yet oppressive atmosphere.
Through the dialogue of these few minor characters, the audience glimpsed the entangled contradictions within this major bourgeois family—master-servant, class, kinship, love... and the sense of agitation hanging over everyone's heads.
Thunderstorm had a tight rhythm with almost no filler scenes; the dialogue was concise yet information-dense; and there was no music to interrupt the plot...
Especially the actors' performances, which, thanks to the stage lighting—brighter and more layered than before—allowed for a more restrained style of character portrayal.
All of this felt novel and astonishing to the Parisian audience.
They realized this was absolutely not a traditional comedy, tragedy, historical play, or family drama... but a new kind of drama they had never seen before!
(End of Chapter)