I am a literary giant in Russia

Chapter 90 The New Literary Prize (Two Chapters Combined)

Although this time, Mikhail's separation from his mother and sister would not be as long as before, the three of them still hugged tightly when the day of parting actually arrived. After Purhelia and Dunya boarded the carriage, the three of them continued to gaze at each other from afar until they could no longer see each other's figures before turning their gaze away.

In this era that is still half-awake, both reunions and partings are so long. If one is a little unlucky, it is not uncommon for them to never see each other again for three to five years, seven or eight years, or even forever.

From this perspective, it seems reasonable to say that literature is "regressing" in a certain sense. After all, it is probably difficult for modern people to deeply appreciate the genuine and heartfelt experiences such as "a cup of wine in the spring breeze and peach blossoms, ten years of lamplight in the night rain of the rivers and lakes" and "the face is gone, but the peach blossoms still smile in the spring breeze".

As times change and evolve, many complex emotional experiences inevitably become mundane, simplified into a few fancy sentences, a few pieces of music, and some fragmented pieces.

Of course, this is not necessarily a bad thing. At least people have a certain right to make choices, and modern people also have their own experiences.

And just like the immortal opening that Dickens hadn't yet written in *A Tale of Two Cities* in this day and age:
"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, we had everything, we had nothing, we were all going to Heaven, we were all going to Hell."

After seeing his mother and sister off, Mikhail quickly sent a sum of money home through the post office. He must have given them money when he left, but carrying too much money when traveling is certainly not a good thing.

After that, Mikhail continued to meet with all sorts of people in his office, chatting and drinking tea. Several more days passed before Mikhail finally had some free time.

Now that he had some free time, Mikhail sat on his sofa for a while, thought for a bit, and then happily put on his coat before heading straight to Panayev's house.

Because I've been so busy lately, Mikhail has been able to attend fewer parties at Panayev's house, which, upon reflection, is really not a good thing.

Furthermore, although he was not there, I heard others talk about the party, especially about the young Dostoevsky.

In short, with Mikhail absent, the young Dostoevsky has recently gained considerable fame in St. Petersburg's cultural circles. Due to his youth and easily excitable nature, he often finds himself unconsciously trying to refute others in order to demonstrate his own superiority.

Once or twice is fine, but over time it will eventually become unbearable for others.

Fortunately, Turgenev went to the countryside to reflect because of Belinsky's urging; otherwise, with his sharp tongue, the young Dostoevsky would most likely have been driven to despair by his words.

The reason for their first falling out was that Turgenev, in front of Dostoevsky, told everyone that he had met a self-proclaimed genius in the provinces, and then cleverly described the ridiculousness of that person.

The young Dostoevsky turned pale and trembled upon hearing it, leaving before Turgenev finished his description. Dostoevsky was gone, but Turgenev remained engrossed in his own anecdote, even writing a poem to mock Dostoevsky.

On the surface, it seems to be a matter of personality: Dostoevsky was sensitive, excited, and a bit pretentious, while Turgenev loved to boast and had a sharp tongue. But the deeper reason is actually a difference in their ideologies.

Turgenev was a returned student who had studied abroad and was considered a staunch atheist, while Dostoevsky had a strong Christian ideology. When they first met, although Turgenev acknowledged Dostoevsky's talent, he couldn't help but privately mock the Christian ideas in Dostoevsky's works.

Later, the root cause of their conflict was roughly the same: Dostoevsky championed patriotism and Christianity, while Turkestan, having lived abroad for a long time, believed that only Western European ideas and paths could save Russia.

This led to the two meeting in Germany later, and despite having just gone through a honeymoon period, their words and ideas were still quite incompatible.

Dostoevsky kept saying: "Hey! We Russians are the real deal! The Third Rome, the orthodox Christians, this world will need us Russians to save it sooner or later! France and Germany? What a bunch of roadside stray dogs!"
Turgenev was equally blunt: "What nonsense! Look at what Russia has become, and you're still bragging? Open your eyes and look at the world! The wellspring of thought is in Germany, the old revolutionary base is in Paris! Russia? Nothing but bones in a grave!"

As a result, the two naturally engaged in a passionate exchange of insults.

Old Tu says you're a fake foreigner and a Russian traitor! Old Tu says you're a corrupt old conservative!

Then it ended on a sour note.
Of course, even so, when Dostoevsky was gambling away his money in Germany, he still didn't forget to write to the wealthy Turgenev to borrow 100 silver marks.

Old Tu lent the money, but he also wanted to use this as an excuse to annoy Old Tuo, so he only lent him half and made Old Tuo write an IOU.

Although Lao Tu was a gambling addict, he was also thin-skinned and had a bad temper. After angrily writing down the IOU, he also mocked Lao Tu, and so the two of them broke up again.
The differences in ideology can be said to be the root cause of the rift and even mutual attacks among intellectuals these days.

However, in truth, both have their own merits, even in terms of the outcome.

On the one hand, Russia inherited certain ideas from Western Europe, but on the other hand, a strong Messianic complex stemming from religion always lingered around later Russia.

In short, the Messianic complex manifests as a strong sense of national pride and a messianic sentiment, which resonates deeply with the lofty ideal of "liberating all mankind."

However, at the same time, this also naturally arose.
Of course, I won't go into more details for now.

On his way to Panayev's house, Mikhail thought about these things and also had a headache for a while because of the young Dostoevsky.

While Mikhail was having a headache, on the other side, at Panayev's house, Belinsky, Nekrasov, and several others were basically present because it was another weekly gathering.

Since that devil Mikhail hadn't been around much lately, Belinsky, who loved playing cards, had a great time playing cards in his spare time, and this gathering was no exception.

At this moment, the publication of the first issue of the new magazine was very close. Belinsky had basically finished his work and even done a lot more. In his excitement, Belinsky went to Panaev's house again to relax and play cards.

As I said before, Belinsky was having a great time playing cards without Mikhail. However, occasionally, when he came to his senses, he would look at Dostoevsky, who was showing off and arguing with others, and he would mutter to Nekrasov with some puzzlement:
"What's wrong with Dostoevsky? He keeps repeating the same things, and he does it so passionately."

“He’s been like this a lot lately, just like many arrogant writers I’ve met.” Nekrasov glanced at the impassioned Dostoevsky, shook his head, and shrugged helplessly. “You know, not every genius is Mikhail. Although I think it’s quite normal, he’s been acting too excited lately.”

"Ugh."

Belinsky couldn't help but sigh. Although he understood the situation, he still said with some worry, "Dostoevsky's talent is beyond doubt, but if he doesn't cultivate it and instead considers himself a genius, he can't progress. Why can't he be like Mikhail?"

“Perhaps it’s just a difference in personality,” Nekrasov said, shrugging. “But if Dostoevsky gets too excited, you can mention Mikhail’s name. He’ll usually calm down after hearing it. But if you mention it too often, he’ll get annoyed and complain that others only talk about Mikhail’s name and don’t dare to talk about their own thoughts.”

“Speaking of which, it’s been a while since Mikhail has come.”

Belinsky shook his head and sighed, "Aside from work, he seems to have been spending all his time with his mother and sister. But considering the timeline, his mother and sister should have passed away by now. So, does he have more time now?"

"What's wrong, dear Vesalion?"

Seeing Belinsky's expectant face, Nekrasov couldn't help but smile and ask, "Do you want him to come over?"

"Of course. No, no! Don't come today! You know, I finally got to relax here, and Mikhail will ruin this beautiful evening!"

Despite Belinsky's repeated shaking of his head, what he feared most came to pass. Just as Nekrasov was about to say something more to Belinsky, a small cheer suddenly came from the doorway:
"It's Mikhail!"

"It's been a while, dear Mikhail! How have you been? I've heard you've been making waves in the publishing world!"

"I've been waiting for you! Only God knows how happy I am to see you!"

Upon hearing this, Belinsky's face immediately lit up with joy, but before he could happily stand up to find Mikhail, he seemed to remember something and sat back down, then hurriedly said to his card-playing friends:

"Let's play another round! God! If he can make Mikhail unable to play cards today, then I really need to reaffirm my faith!"

Because Belinsky's voice was very soft, Mikhail was completely unaware of all this. He simply greeted everyone present one by one, and faced with their praise and jokes, Mikhail was quite humble. He never mentioned those seemingly glorious achievements, but only talked about the interesting things he encountered in the process, and also made a few harmless jokes with the people around him.

The young Dostoevsky witnessed Mikhail's performance.

Although Mikhail had been like this before, upon seeing him again, the young man, who had just been excited, couldn't help but step back, unsure of what to say.

Komikhail clearly hadn't ignored him. After greeting the people around him, he went straight to him and said with a smile, "Dear Fyodor, how have you been lately? Do you have any new writing plans? I'm really looking forward to your new work!"

To be fair, although Dostoevsky rose to fame with "Poor Folk," perhaps his fame and success in the literary world blinded him for a while. As a result, he actually experienced a long period of decline after "Poor Folk," and some of his works were criticized by Belinsky.

The more he tries to prove himself, the less likely he is to produce truly amazing works.

If possible, Mikhail still hopes that Dostoevsky can write a series of works in a timely manner soon.
Faced with these words, the young Dostoevsky blushed, nodded hastily, and after uttering two syllables, he was speechless.

Mikhail didn't seem to care, he just patted him on the shoulder to let him relax, and then walked over to Belinsky under the watchful eyes of the others.

When Belinsky sensed Mikhail's movement, although he was genuinely pleased, his hand holding the cards couldn't help but tremble, and his mind became increasingly agitated.

Finally, when Mikhail approached, Belinsky raised his hands as if in surrender, sighing and saying:

"Sigh! Sigh! It seems I can only remain an atheist. Mikhail, you win! What are you going to do next? Sit down and play cards? Well, I'll quickly give you my seat! Come on! Come on like a storm!"

Mikhail: “???”

Do I really love playing cards that much?!
Slander, all of it is slander!

“My dear Vesalion, look at the kind of person you take me for.”

Mikhail's lips twitched slightly before he spoke, "I'm here today to discuss a major matter concerning the magazine, which may have a significant impact on our publication."

"Oh?"

Upon seeing Mikhail mention the magazine, Belinsky immediately stopped sighing and hurriedly asked, "What is it?"

"A literary prize can be funded by our magazine or by me personally."

After carefully considering his words, Mikhail continued, "In short, let's establish a prize! It will be specifically used to reward writers who have published outstanding works in our magazine!"

(End of this chapter)