Maupassant Puns

I am trying to run a Vampire game set in New York and I am trying to figure out where all the Tremere chantries are. However the wiki is extremely vague when it comes to the building actual location.
For example:
"While Barnard College serves as the Tremere's internal center of communications, the Maupassant Room chantry is where the Tremere meet with Kindred from other clans. It is the smallest of all the chantries, having grown from the private quarters of the previous high regent in a 12th-floor office space. It is appointed richly, intended to show the power and value of clan Tremere. While it has only two resident Kindred, Regent Eugenio Estevez and his assistant, it is without a doubt one of the most active chantries in the city. "
This does not tell me where in that the chantry is only who runs it. New York is "fukin yuuge" so finding this place is like searching for a needle in a hay stack. On my map of New York I put it as the same building as the Educational theater of new york in Manhattan.

Do you guys know where it ACTUALLY is supposed to be? Is its location mentioned in any of the books or novels?

EDIT: It is located on Madison Avenue 77th street source: VTM New York by Night.

Thanks for the help

Pretty much what the title says.

I recently read Dahl's short stories (including The Way Up to Heaven, Parson's Pleasure, ...) and they remind me of Guy de Maupassant. They use plot twists to great effect and share a witty, cynical take on the human nature. I'm not familiar with modern literature, but could Dahl have been influenced by Maupassant? Has anyone compared the two authors before?

Please do not spoil me as I have yet to finish the first TGAA game, I am currently near the end of the first day of investigation.
But upon encountering the fellow, I couldn't get out of my mind that it wasn't just a coincidence, knowing all the references to literature, with Sherlock Holmes, and Shakespeare, I wonder if Maupassant's book could have been an inspiration?
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Horla
Not only is Natsume's appearance just as described by the many covers the novel has known, the story itself is about a man feeling haunted by a presence in its daily life, to the point of him becoming paranoid and suspicious of everything, the shaky guy we have in front of us in this prison cell sure seems to cross some boxes.
But maybe this is just a coincidence and nothing of a great deduction? I'll let you be the judges!

I had written this little script about what I think are Guy de Maupassant's influences on this cursed anime: Koi Kaze.

https://shibuyaconfidential.wordpress.com/2021/11/09/maupassant-influenced-koi-kaze/

Salut tout le monde ! J'ai commencé à lire Zola il y a pas mal de temps et j'ai adoré son style, du coup j'ai voulu diversifier mes lectures en ajoutant un autre auteur dans ma pile à lire. Quel d'entre les deux dans le titre est le plus "facile" pour débuter dans votre avis ?

Hello All, I was recently talking to a Chinese-speaking friend who showed me an old online post from a few years ago. It is attributed to Boule de Suif, by Maupassant. Naturally, this quote was in Chinese as thus:

" 生活不可能如你想像的那麼美好，但也不會如你想像的那麼糟。我覺得人的脆弱和堅強都超乎自己的想像。有時，我們可能脆弱得一句話就淚流滿面，有時，也發現自己不知不覺咬著牙走了很長的路。——莫泊桑《羊脂球》 "

Machine Translation Life can't be as good as you think, but it won't be as bad as you think. I feel that human fragility and strength are beyond my imagination. Sometimes, we may be so fragile that we burst into tears in a word, and sometimes we find ourselves clenching our teeth and walking a long way. — Maupassant "Boule de Suif"

I was particularly struck by the last sentence - even in broken and mechanical english I could see that something powerful was under it.

With only this to go off of, naturally I began attempting to find an English translation of this quote. This turned out to be quite a task. I found a webpage containing all of Maupassant's works in english, but plugging in random english keywords in the hope to find this didn't result in much. I think the translations are too detached from eachother, since presumably the Chinese interpretation of the quote came from a translation from the original French, similarly with the English. Anyway, this exercise didn't bloom flowers in discovering a good english interpretation.

I then began searching online with the Chinese quotes, to see what I could find. I eventually began searching on Baidu with parts of the given quote, and I saw some people citing "Life" rather than "Boule de Suif". At the time, I took this to be a machine translating error - weird shit can happen when translating languages, especially if you're translating a webpage rather than plain text. What I didn't know was that this is would be the key to helping me track down the quote.

I was getting agitated at this point, so in desperation I began trying to find original French versions of the text so I could compare the text found on this webpage. This didn't do much either. At this point I reached out to another friend, mostly to vent, but also to ask for advice. And with some digging we found that the quote was attributed to the wrong book, which is annoying in hindsight for me as I could have saved a lot of time, but I blame whatever shitty quote website user pasted it online without back

IN THE WINTER of 1916 I found myself in Petersburg with forged papers and without a kopeck to my name. Aleksei Kazantsev, a teacher of Russian philology, gave me shelter.

He lived on a frozen, reeking, yellow street in Peski. To increase his meager income, he did Spanish translations—in those days the fame of Blasco Ibáñez was on the rise.

Kazantsev had never been to Spain, not even once, but his whole being was flooded with love for the country—he knew every Spanish castle, park, and river. Besides myself, a large number of men and women who had fallen through the cracks of life flocked to him. We lived in dire poverty. From time to time our pieces on current events appeared in small print in the popular press.

In the mornings I lounged about in morgues and police stations.

But the happiest of us all was Kazantsev. He had a motherland—Spain.

In November I was offered the position of clerk at the Obukhovsky Factory, not a bad job, bringing with it an exemption from conscription.

I refused to become a clerk.

Even in those days, at the age of twenty, I said to myself: Better to suffer hunger, prison, and homelessness than to sit at a clerk’s desk ten hours a day. There is no particular daring in making such a pledge, but I haven’t broken it to this day, nor will I. The wisdom of my forefathers was ingrained in me: we have been born to delight in labor, fighting, and love. That is what we have been born for, and nothing else.

Kazantsev patted the short yellow down on his head as he listened to my sermon. The horror in his eyes was mixed with rapture.

At Christmas, fortune smiled upon us. Bendersky, a lawyer who owned the Halcyon Publishing House, had decided to bring out a new edition of Maupassant’s works. His wife, Raisa, was going to do the translation. But nothing had yet come of the grand enterprise.

Kazantsev, as a Spanish translator, was asked if he knew anyone who might be able to help Raisa Mikhailovna. Kazantsev suggested me.

The following day, donning another man’s jacket, I set out to the Benderskys’. They lived at the corner of the Nevsky Prospekt by the Moika River, in a house built of Finnish granite trimmed with pink columns, embrasures, and stone coats of arms. Before the war, bankers without family or breeding—Jewish converts to Christianity who grew rich through trade—had built a large number of such spuriously majestic, vulgar castles in Petersburg.

A red carpet ran up the stairs. Stuffed bears on their hind legs stood on the l