Many years later, when Nabokov was teaching Russian literature in the United States, this is exactly how he did it. In a pitch‑black room he first switched on a lamp in the corner and declared, “Pushkin is the first beacon of Russian literature.” He then lit the one in the middle and said, “That’s Gogol.” After that he turned on another lamp and announced, “This is Chekhov.” Then he strode to the window, yanked the curtains wide, let the bright sunlight flood the room, and shouted, “That’s Tolstoy!” After a moment to compose himself, a student raised a hand and asked, “Professor, what about the sky outside?” “You don’t need me to tell you that,” Nabokov replied, opening the window and gazing at the boundless heavens. “The source of the modern world! In both spirit and reality!” The immortal Mikhail Romanovich Raskolnikov!

Brief version: A story that returns to a winter in Russia, 1843, where Mikhail gradually becomes not only a Russian literary giant but the spiritual leader of the entire European continent. Alternate titles: *Those Years I Diagnosed in Russia*, *Can’t Even Diagnose a Symptom? Then You’re Just a Featherweight Literary Giant!*

P.S. I’m an author from another site—feel free to keep reading.