European literature is no stranger to 'coming-of-age novels.' Since Goethe's *Wilhelm Meister*, writers have typically depicted the conventional growth process from adolescence to youth, and then to adulthood.
The themes usually express the confusion of youth, the impulses of love, the compromises of growing up, and so on.
Benjamin Button, however, is completely different; he flows against the river of time, growing younger as others grow older.
The former is an inevitable experience for everyone, while the latter is a completely fresh one—even the most obtuse reader would perceive the predicament this 'reverse-growing' infant will face.
Because all social systems and ethical orders worldwide are prepared for children who grow 'forward,' they are not ready to welcome him.
School, employment, retirement, marriage... Benjamin Button is destined to be in a state of 'not being accepted' for most stages of his life.
Furthermore, no matter who he interacts with, he will find it difficult to maintain long-term companionship with peers—when he truly connects with people of a certain age, his appearance or mind will quickly 'drift apart.'
This destines him to 'lose' more easily than anyone else.
Tragedy, it seems, is the destined main theme of his life.
Sensitive French people quickly empathized with this peculiar child, especially after Lionel published his refuting article; sympathy for Benjamin Button quickly became the mainstream thought among readers.
"Hey, how long do you think Benjamin will live? He was born looking eighty, then at 'ten' he looked seventy, and at 'twenty' he looked sixty? So when he's 'eighty,' won't he... become a baby?"
"My God, that question is a headache! Think about it, he lives to be younger and younger! But he experiences more and more things! By the time he looks like a young man, his mind will be filled with decades of vicissitudes! What would that feel like?"
...
Such discussions filled the taverns and cafes; everyone talked about Benjamin Button, not only caring about his fate but also seeing some of themselves in him.
The narration of the two revolutions, separated by 90 years, particularly deeply moved Parisians who had experienced immense systemic changes.
Disabled soldiers saw Benjamin Button as they saw themselves—losing a healthy body in war, and at an old age still having to learn how to walk, use cutlery, and go to the toilet...
Factory workers saw Benjamin Button as they saw themselves—entering the spinning mill at thirteen, their backs hunched like a sixty-year-old at twenty, their beards all white, unable to save for retirement, still dragging their skeletal bodies to the docks to carry sacks.
For them, 'reverse growth' meant their bodies aged first, but life forced them back to the starting point of child labor—relearning the most basic chores, re-accepting the lowest wages.
The middle class, small business owners, the rich, the nobility... all seemed to find a bit of their own resonance in Benjamin Button.
This peculiar 'reverse growth' setting forces readers to ponder, imagine, and connect, ultimately seeing themselves reflected in Benjamin Button.
Even Madame Rothschild, a top Parisian socialite, was deeply touched.
In her mansion in the Saint-Germain district, Viscountess de Noailles gently dabbed the corner of her eye with a handkerchief: "Oh, poor Benjamin Button is destined to lose everything, isn't he?
When he finally looks like a young man, his mind will have already experienced vicissitudes, and those he loves and who understand him will either grow old or leave, just like Delphine...
This is simply fate's cruelest joke!"
Other ladies nodded in agreement, discussing the various 'losses' Benjamin would face in the future and his destined tragic fate, eagerly pouring out their cheapened sympathy from being overly effusive.
Madame Rothschild waited for them to quiet down before speaking with reserved grace: "This is the tragedy of our society—it only defines people, demands things of people, accepts or rejects people based on their appearance—
We demand that 'old men' be calm and wise, that 'youth' be vibrant and impulsive, that 'children' be lively and innocent. Who truly listens, who truly sees the vibrant soul within each person's shell?"
Her words stirred ripples in the hearts of the ladies, who all looked at their young, wealthy, noble, and charming friend.
The Duchess of Polignac, slightly older than her, asked with a hint of confusion and envy: "Éléonore, why have you been so wise and insightful lately?"
Madame Rothschild's self-effacing reply was full of hidden pride: "Perhaps it's because I've read it a few more times... This Lionel, he truly is an extraordinary young man!"
The Duchess of Polignac's eyes lit up: "You think so too? Oh, have you read his 'From Freak to Freak'? That line 'A freak is merely a line of poetry written wrong by fate...'"
"Oh my, my heart just melted when I read that..."
Although Lionel was being praised, Madame Rothschild felt like her own heart was melting.
The ladies' interest clearly shifted to the young man, and they began discussing the various anecdotes and rumors surrounding him, with laughter and joy filling the air.
Madame Rothschild, however, did not participate; she simply stirred her Ceylon black tea with a silver spoon, smiling as she watched them.
And the impact Lionel brought to readers was far from over.
The next two installments of Le Petit Parisien presented Benjamin Button's 'love line' to readers—he finally met Delphine.
Only, at this time, he was still old, while Delphine was a lively ten-year-old girl.
[...She took the precious rye candy, not eating it immediately, but carefully breaking it in half and offering it back to Benjamin: "Let's eat it together! What... what's your name?"
"Ben... Benjamin." He struggled to utter the name.
"Benjamin?" Delphine tilted her head, scrutinizing him. "You look... like Uncle Jean's older brother! But..."
She suddenly leaned closer, her amber eyes flashing as if she had discovered a treasure: "Your eyes... are like a newborn kitten's! Wet and sparkling!"
She reached out, her fingertips cautiously testing, gently touching the cluster of new, soft light brown hair on Benjamin's temple, "Here... it's soft too, like a lamb!"
Benjamin froze. After many years of being misunderstood and discriminated against, for the first time, someone had penetrated his aged, fearsome exterior and touched the soul and vitality that was painstakingly returning to youth.
He looked at the pure curiosity in Delphine's eyes, feeling the minuscule yet warm heat transmitted by her fingertips, a warmth he had never experienced before, which broke down the dam of loneliness he had built in his heart.
"Del...phine," he struggled to remember this warm name, his lips slowly and awkwardly curving upward, eventually forming a clumsy but incredibly genuine arc, "Friend?"
Delphine nodded vigorously, like a cheerful little bird, stuffing half the candy into her mouth, and responded muffled but incredibly clearly: "Mm! Friend!"]
If there was anything that could move the French heart more than the peculiar setting of 'reverse growth,' it would undoubtedly be love.
Readers had speculated countless times about when Benjamin and Delphine would meet, but they never expected it to be in each other's 'childhoods.'
They also realized that such an early meeting meant the subsequent process would inevitably be arduous and unpredictable—thinking of this, people's hearts were breaking!
The sales of Le Petit Parisien also continuously soared with the serialization, but the data curve fluctuated greatly, showing a significant 'M' shape trend:
Issues containing the serialization of the extraordinary adventures of benjamin button sold over 600,000 copies; those without it usually only sold 300,000 copies.
This also made Paul Pigout eagerly urge Lionel to make the serialization daily.