I am a literary giant in Russia

Chapter 11: Chronicles of the Motherland

If Mikhail had really developed well afterwards, then future historians and literature lovers would probably continue to talk about and commemorate his first meeting with Belinsky as a historic moment, and even deeply yearn for such a moment, wishing they could travel back in time and talk directly with these two people.

But unfortunately, Mikhail's meeting with Belinsky was far from solemn, and could even be described as quite simple.

After all, as mentioned earlier, Belinsky was a poor man.

Coincidentally, Mikhail is also a poor guy.

As for Nekrasov, although he made a lot of money later, he is still a poor man now.

It's easy to imagine what it would be like if three poor guys got together in today's Russia.

Three shabby coats, three unkempt men, cheap taverns and alcohol, laughing and shoving each other
Of course, as a cultured person after all, it was not appropriate to discuss things in a noisy place, so Nekrasov made up his mind and finally decided to hold the meeting in a cafe. Belinsky would go there after finishing his work, and Nekrasov would personally invite Mikhail.

Now, Nekrasov has brought Mikhail to the cafe, and after looking around, Mikhail finally set his eyes on the man sitting in the corner who was in deep thought.

It can be seen that the man seemed to have made some serious preparations before coming, but from some details it can be seen that his financial situation is indeed average.

And that face in deep thought was at least 80% similar to the portrait Mikhail had seen before.

So, is this really seeing Belinsky alive?
After a little excitement, Mikhail quickly relaxed and walked towards the other party under the leadership of Nekrasov.

As if he heard the noise, Belinsky, who was still in deep thought, suddenly woke up and looked towards Mikhail and the others. With just one glance, Belinsky quickly stood up. The heavy thought on his face suddenly turned into a kind of flame.

The flame just walked towards Mikhail.

Mikhail did not stand there in a daze, but took a step forward as well, and then the two of them clasped hands tightly together.

"Mikhail Romanovich Raskolnikov."

"Vissario Grigorievich Belinsky."

Before Mikhail could express his admiration for this contemporary literary leader, Belinsky, his face clearly gleaming with excitement, spoke first:

"Young man, a handsome young man! What you write is truly wonderful! This is the kind of work I want to see in Russian literature, work that is flesh and blood connected to the Russian land and has a certain underlying rhythm!"

"You flatter me."

Before Mikhail could say anything more modest, the other party continued:

"I can't wait to write your review! I have so much to say! 'The Misery' is excellent, and 'Vanka' really touched my heart. No one can help but shed tears for it, even though the reality in Russia today is even heavier than the novel." It was obvious that this outstanding critic had no airs of a literary leader at all. He took Mikhail in his arms and talked non-stop. After a long time, the three of them sat down. After sitting down, Belinsky once again expressed his admiration for Mikhail and his expectations for his future. Then he talked about the arrangements for the two manuscripts:

"How about next month, right next month? I'll do my best to write my review and put it together in the Fatherland Chronicle.

The current censorship system for newspapers and periodicals is very strict, but there should be no problem with your two works, as long as they don’t involve the Tsar, ministers, and those noble lords. What about the Russian people? Ha! They don’t have time to care about this. "

"I'm really looking forward to your review. I've read your articles in magazines before, and I can't think of a better review."

This was not a polite remark. Judging from the memories in his mind, Mikhail had seen a lot of this kind of thing. When he saw something touching, he would discuss it passionately with his companions. Once, because he was too engrossed in talking, he was almost taken to the police station and beaten with a punch as big as a potato.

"But dear Mikhail, there is something I must tell you." After his enthusiasm, Belinsky showed a kind of generosity and said, "What you write is likely to be attacked by conservatives, just like Gogol, who was attacked and slandered simply because he wrote about social reality.

I defended him vigorously throughout, but he was still very affected and confused at times.”

Regarding who Gogol is, Turgenev, Tolstoy, and Dostoevsky all said: "We all came out of Gogol's The Overcoat."

There is no doubt that Gogol inherited the realistic tradition from Pushkin and continued to carry it forward, which deeply influenced Russian writers and also had a profound influence on another great writer a century later.

As for who this great writer is, let’s just say that Gogol has a novel called "Diary of a Madman".

Today, Gogol is at the peak of his career in the Russian literary world. He just published his masterpiece "Dead Souls" last year, which shocked the whole of Russia.

But at the same time, he was bombarded with controversy and criticism, and Gogol's mental state was worrying under such pressure.

The reason for this is, of course, that Gogol profoundly satirized Russia's serfdom, bureaucracy, and many typical landlords who were vulgar, ridiculous, and pathetic in Dead Souls.

How can one get away with satirizing the entire Russian upper class in one fell swoop?
But then again, Mikhail was certainly aware that the two articles he wrote were more about depicting the reality of the grassroots people and were far from reaching the level of keyboard politics.

So in this situation, when you are almost out of food, what is there to be afraid of?
Let there be some criticism, but in this day and age, if a writer is not criticized, can he still be called a writer?!

That's called a lapdog at the Tsar's feet!

Because he knew what was going on, Mikhail remained calm in the face of Belinsky's reminders and concerns. He even smiled carelessly, looking at Belinsky and the young Nekrasov, and said solemnly:
"Don't worry, Vissarion Grigorievich, I don't care about that.

There is no doubt that what we are doing is the future of Russian literature!

Even if we encounter temporary setbacks and criticism, history will still make the most fair judgment for us! "

(End of this chapter)