I am a literary giant in Russia

Chapter 247 The Englishman Who Loves Making Dumplings and the Road Not Taken (6k words, bonus chapter for monthly votes)

April 29, 1846, was a very important day for the Brontë sisters, as their collection of poems, to which they had put a lot of thought and hope, was published on this day.

During that period, Charlotte had been in contact with the publisher by letter, confirming that there were no printing errors, requesting that the poetry collection be printed as exquisitely as possible, inquiring about which critics to send the collection to, and considering which magazines to send advertisements to.
Even with the help of that supposedly remarkable gentleman, this was ultimately their own collection of poems, and they should still make some effort.

So recently, Charlotte sent her collection of poems to some well-known critics and publications such as The Colburn New Monthly, Bentley Magazine, The Edinburgh Review, and University of Dublin Magazine, and also placed some advertisements in Athenian, Literary Gazette and The Times.

Since they really don't have much money, the advertising section will probably only have a very small space.

After doing everything that could be done, all that's left is to wait.

Because of their poverty, they didn't even have the money to go to London to witness this moment, so they could only wait at home for a letter from the publisher.

In any case, on the day the poetry collection was published, the Brontë sisters still gathered together for a small celebration. What was placed in front of them was no longer a pamphlet they had made out of childhood interest, but a real, printed book.

The book's cover is made of lake-green cloth, and the inside is decorated with geometric patterns, creating an elegant design. This natural lake-green color is exactly what they love.

For those who love creating, how should they describe the feeling of their words being published for the first time?

Although Charlotte was the older and more mature one, she still said happily, "This is our poetry collection! We even earned a small sum of money from it! This is our first step towards making a living by writing!"

"It's actually going to be published!"

Although Emily is introverted and reserved, she became more talkative at this moment: "I thought these words would only live in our room, in our hearts."

"I just don't know how readers will rate it."

The youngest sister, Anne, said somewhat uneasily, "It's said that every book of poetry will attract criticism."

"It would be terrible if there were no criticisms at all."

Charlotte smiled and said, "Have you forgotten Mr. Mikhail? It's said that he has faced a great deal of criticism and controversy at almost every stage since the beginning, whether in Russia, France, or England. But that hasn't stopped him from becoming a well-known figure in the literary world!"

He's only twenty-three years old.

When Mikhail was mentioned, the other two seemed to become more talkative: "People his age should just be starting out in society, yet he's already a very famous figure. Byron also seemed to have become famous around this age, but even Byron didn't travel to just two or three countries."

Some time ago, they had corresponded with the genius who was very friendly to them. The more they learned about him, the more incredible they felt that such a person actually existed and was actually in their lives.

Perhaps because he left such a strong impression on them, they inevitably added a certain color to the characters they created while writing their own novels during this period. However, this influence was so subtle that probably no one would have noticed it.
And so, the three sisters had a lively discussion for a while, but when they calmed down, the thought of the criticism and cold reception their poetry collection might receive made them worry, and they began to anxiously await news about the collection from the publisher.

However, in the literary field, it is almost inevitable that the works of newcomers will be met with indifference, especially for those newcomers who have no background or connections.

In this era, while poetry is highly respected, it has largely become a game for a small circle and elites, and only exceptionally outstanding works have the chance to enter the public eye.

In this situation, it's perfectly normal for a newcomer's poetry collection to attract no attention, and renowned critics won't bother writing reviews for their work.

The Brontë sisters' poetry collection suffered such a fate; in fact, most critics barely glanced at it after receiving it, and some even simply disposed of it as trash.

After all, given their status, countless poets would want their comments, so where would they find the time to pay attention to such an unknown nobody?
Among these people, Maurice was the kind who would treat poetry collections sent by unknown individuals as trash and throw them away.

In this era, there are countless knowledgeable young people who dream of becoming famous overnight with literary aspirations, but most of them are busy seeking out critics for comments before they even have a basic understanding of literature. If everyone had to pay attention to them, wouldn't that be exhausting?
Moreover, Morris has never received a penny or heard a kind word from these people. Does he really think the commentators' opinions are free?

Unless some critics want to seize the right to speak and gain fame, they will try to find some new books and construct other discourse systems.

In order to maintain his current status, Maurice will naturally keep a close eye on the latest developments in the literary world and be ready to take action and start debates at any time, commonly known as "tearing each other apart," in order to ensure that he is not forgotten by the literary world and the public.

So when a new day began, Maurice read the latest issues of The Temple of Athena, Blackwood Magazine, and The Literary Gazette.

Journals like these are undoubtedly the top journals in London's critical circles. For most critics, getting their critical articles published in these journals is simply out of the question.

As for what kind of reviews are most popular recently, they are naturally those about "A Study in Scarlet". It can be said that no matter what level of magazine it is, whether they praise or criticize it, they all have to publish their evaluation of this novel!
After all, this novel has already caused quite a stir in London. If it's not published soon, does it mean it doesn't want public attention and subscriptions?

However, some time had passed, and related comments were unlikely to reappear. So, just when Maurice thought he could no longer see the name of the Russian he was gradually becoming familiar with, he suddenly stopped in front of a commentary article that occupied an important page.

This article, titled "A Cry from the Silent Wasteland," appears to be a review of a collection of poems.
"In this small and quiet collection of poems, three authors, identified as Köhler Bell, Ellis Bell, and Acton Bell, present a new spiritual landscape to the reader with a rare introspection and solemn lyricism."

Unlike the delicate lyricism or sentimental narratives common in London's poetry scene, these three poets seem to come from a place far removed from the hustle and bustle of the city—their poems do not seek to please, nor do they employ embellishment, but rather approach life with an almost wild sincerity.

Where did these three nameless people come from? But why do they look so familiar?
Of course, none of that matters. What really matters is the author's name on this article: Mikhail.

Morris: "?"

When did this Russian become a commentator?
Could it be that he also wants to gain a foothold in the commentary field?
That's too greedy!

Moreover, what right does he have to publish his article in the Literary Gazette right away?

Normally, Mikhail wouldn't be qualified, since he was a complete novice in the field of criticism. But when he said he had written a review and wanted to publish it in a magazine, many magazine owners in London suddenly had a bright idea.

Regardless of the quality of his writing, given this Russian's recent reputation, articles bearing his name alone are enough to attract a considerable number of subscribers!
Moreover, some review magazines themselves evaluate recent new books, and this Russian's review was actually quite good, making an otherwise unpopular poetry collection quite engaging.
As a result, after a period of competition, the Literary Gazette finally won the rights to this review.

And this period's sales figures seem to prove that this was a rather wise choice.
As for Maurice, after blankly reading the article, he first couldn't help but vehemently criticize the darkness of the literary world. Then, he suddenly had a flash of inspiration and remembered where he had seen this collection of poems before.

Isn't this the poetry collection I had the maid throw away as trash a few days ago?!

No way, I have to review this collection of poems too! Does a Russian even know anything about English poetry?
Thinking this through, Maurice felt he had seized an opportunity and quickly called the servant over. After briefly mentioning the poetry collection, Maurice hurriedly said, "Go and find this poetry collection again."

The servant, who had long since been forgotten, was left bewildered.

fuck you!

"If you really can't find it, please buy me a new one as soon as possible!"

When Maurice was preparing to use this incident to criticize the darkness of the literary world, question Mikhail's understanding of English poetry, and incidentally gain some fame for himself, many critics in London undoubtedly also took notice of this article. Thus, under some inexplicable tacit understanding, new reviews of this collection of poems, as well as articles refuting and criticizing Mikhail, began to appear one after another.

In doing so, Mikhail had already achieved his goal.
Just as these voices began to spread and take shape, Mikhail was busy with his own career as always. In his spare time, in order to have some entertainment and to learn about the British theater scene at this time, Mikhail would also take the time to visit British theaters. And almost every time he went to a show, Mikhail would walk out of the theater with a tense expression.

Unfortunately, during this period in England, due to the social atmosphere and many other factors, English literature often served as a means of moral education and social reform.

Moreover, the British undoubtedly prefer stories that are wholesome, respectable, and morally sound, rather than those of the French.

The ending is commonly known as making dumplings.

No matter how dramatic the process may be, in the end, everyone will always have a happy time making dumplings together.

Many of Dickens' works have this tendency, such as *Oliver Twist*. In other words, it's about a child who suffers in an orphanage from a young age becoming the heir to a large fortune! However, he is framed by his wicked eldest son, but fortunately receives help from a benefactor—who turns out to be his sister, whom he has never met! Together, they send the villain to prison, ultimately inheriting their father's fortune and living happily ever after in the mansion.
In other words, Oliver is portrayed as a pitiful orphan in the first half of the book, but as the story unfolds, readers discover that he is actually a wealthy young man who has been living among the common people. It can only be said that the critical edge of British literature towards reality only gradually deepened in its later stages; in the early 19th century, it truly enjoyed making light of things.

Of course, this was also a psychological compensation mechanism for the lower classes. Although it was not realistic or literary enough, it was indeed a good book in the hearts of the people during this period.

While Dickens did evolve in his later works and did not remain solely focused on moral preaching, this moralistic content still prevents him from achieving a high status in literary history.

Besides novels, the British theater scene was also constantly producing new works during this period.

Most abstractly, many British people, while outwardly admiring Shakespeare, secretly found him "vulgar and indecent." After all, Shakespeare's original plays were too long, too tragic, and often contained vulgar and crude language, which was too "outrageous" for Victorian moral standards and interests.

Thus, the British began their radical adaptations of Shakespeare very early on.

Firstly, King Lear was adapted into a dumpling-making version by the British in 1681. In the ending, King Lear and his daughter did not die tragically, but were reunited, the villain was punished, and the family lived happily ever after.
This version remained the mainstream until the mid-19th century.

Similarly, Hamlet was also adapted by many theaters to have a happy ending, and all "obscene and vulgar" dialogue was deleted, while Romeo and Juliet was turned into a pure and sentimental love story with a happy ending.

Oh right, there was political correctness in the Victorian era too. For example, Othello in Othello was clearly a Black man, but many actors would portray him as a "very tanned Mediterranean." It's fair to say that years later, white people in Europe were also hit in the head by this boomerang, to the point that Snow White had to be made into a Black Snow White.
Finally, during this period, some British playwrights were trying to promote the revival of the original play, but various versions with different twists and turns remained the mainstream at this time.

For Mikhail, the play was so difficult to pull off that he even began to consider staging a more explosive play in England before leaving the country.
It is worth mentioning that because the British had such a preference for theater, and because they considered works in the Parisian stage style to be too indulgent and morally indecent, Mikhail's hard-won performance of "La Traviata" did not go smoothly into Britain, and was even rejected by British audiences.

If someone later adapts a dumpling-making version, it might actually be possible to test the waters in the UK.

Although the British people didn't really like the play, many in London's cultural circles considered Mikhail a playwright. After all, Mikhail's plays had become a hit in Paris. If that's not what makes a playwright, then what is?

In this way, Mikhail naturally entered Dickens' circle of writers and playwrights.

Dickens was a passionate lover of drama, and in fact, he had the opportunity to become a theatrical actor when he was young, and he was indeed very talented in this area. However, the twists of fate ultimately led him to become a writer.

However, this did not affect Dickens's love for drama. While directing and starring in his own plays, he would sometimes dress up as characters from his own works to perform. He also enjoyed inviting friends over to read manuscripts, drink tea, and act in short plays.

Today, Mikhail has received an invitation from Dickens and is on his way to his home.

During his time in London, Mikhail naturally had many interactions with Dickens, and over time, he was now invited as a guest to attend private gatherings of London's literary figures.

As for Dickens, although he vaguely sensed that this young Russian might threaten his position in England, he really liked the young man's character, especially his indifferent attitude towards criticism, which Dickens genuinely wanted to emulate.
However, today, at his upcoming private party, Dickens discovered some unexpected circumstances.

In short, some of his friends are discussing the young man's recent activities, and the news seems to be leaning towards the negative:

"I dare say that even the most serious foreign readers find it difficult to fully understand our English poetry, so how could he dare to review a collection of poems and publish his review in the Literary Gazette?"

"To fully appreciate our poetry, one must be familiar with our literary heritage. I think he lacks this kind of knowledge, and his commentary is very mediocre."

"He was too confident in himself. His understanding of poetry might have won over the French, but it might not have worked in England. Otherwise, why would he have praised the poetry of three unknown poets while ignoring other English poets?"

After listening briefly, Dickens understood the whole story, but he was somewhat surprised that the young Russian man had started writing reviews again, especially reviews of poetry.

The most important question is, why would he comment on the work of three unknown newcomers?

This might really upset some poets to some extent, after all, what does it mean to praise newcomers instead of evaluating their own poetry?
Don't we deserve to comment?
As a result, some people will naturally question the poetic aesthetics of this young Russian man.

Seeing that some of his acquaintances were getting more and more excited, Dickens finally spoke up to remind them: "Mr. Mikhail will also be visiting my home today. He doesn't seem to appear much in the literary world. You can have a good chat with him today."

The gossiping crowd: "?"

Why didn't you say so sooner!
Some people were simply surprised, while others hesitated for a moment before awkwardly saying, "Don't take what I just said seriously; I was just joking a bit."

It's fine to talk about it before we meet, but if we actually meet, we should at least have a proper chat with that promising young man.
While everyone was having different reactions, an excessively young figure gradually appeared in Dickens' living room.

When everyone heard the footsteps and looked over, there was no need for Dickens to introduce himself or the young man; many people present guessed his identity almost immediately.

Faced with this Russian who was currently causing a stir in the British literary world, many people present were unsure how to treat him. However, when Mikhail greeted everyone politely and courteously, each guest responded with equal courtesy.

After this segment ended, Dickens noticed the atmosphere was still somewhat awkward, so he quickly arranged some activities to ease the tension:

"Today, several gentlemen will be here to read aloud their new works. While we appreciate their works, we can also offer them some suggestions."

Dickens' suggestion was intended to ease the tension, but a few people exchanged glances, as if asking each other something.

Before long, some of them decided to bring out their latest poems, intending to hear the Russian's evaluation and then use it to refute some points and write some articles.
So, as time went on, when it came to the part about reading the manuscript, before those who were eager to get up could even stand up, Mikhail's voice rang out first:
"Gentlemen, I have a poem in English here. Would you mind reading it to me?"

Become the host?

And although I've heard that he writes quite well in French poetry, does he really also have a high level of skill and talent in English poetry?
If that's the case, then which language is his native tongue?!
While everyone present was lost in their own thoughts, Mikhail greeted everyone and, after receiving their approval, did not hesitate for long and quickly adjusted his state of mind.

Mikhail was certainly aware of the controversies circulating in newspapers and magazines. Although he himself didn't really care, in order not to affect the three sisters' poetry collection, and also to lay the groundwork for something in advance, at this moment, with a somewhat melancholy feeling, Mikhail recited a poem in the most elegant and purest English that might foreshadow something:

The Road Not Taken
Two roads diverged in the yellow woods.
Unfortunately, I cannot get involved in both at the same time.

I stood there at the intersection for a long time.
I gazed into the distance along a road.

Until it disappeared into the depths of the jungle.

But I chose a different path.

It was overgrown with weeds and extremely secluded.

They appear more alluring and beautiful.

Although on this little path,

Very few travelers have left their footprints.

That morning, the ground was covered with fallen leaves.

Neither road was stained with footprints.

Ah, I'll leave a way out for another day!
But I know the path stretches on endlessly.
I'm afraid I won't be able to go back.

Perhaps many years later, somewhere...
I will sigh softly as I recall the past.
Two roads diverged in a wood—

I chose the less crowded one.
This determined the path of my life.

(End of this chapter)