[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-my-life-as-a-literary-giant-in-russia":3,"chapter-my-life-as-a-literary-giant-in-russia-my-life-as-a-literary-giant-in-russia-chapter-10":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","My Life as a Literary Giant in Russia",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2317185,4531,"Chapter 10: The Meeting with Belinsky","my-life-as-a-literary-giant-in-russia-chapter-10",10,"\u003Cp>One ordinary afternoon, as Mikhail huddled on his sofa, pondering his next article, the maid Nastasya suddenly knocked on his door.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Mikhail, a gentleman is here to see you—he seems to have urgent business.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hearing the voice of the old maid Nastasya, Mikhail’s face darkened instantly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Although Nastasya claimed her lips were tighter than any widow’s door in any village, news of Mikhail’s writing had spread like wildfire; within days, many in the apartment seemed to know.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And whenever they saw Mikhail, their expressions were deeply telling: the petty merchant Versilov, who ran a small business in St. Petersburg, voiced his opinion at breakfast:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh! The university student! You know, today’s youth love these newfangled things—what they write is utterly incomprehensible! Just the other day, at that little tavern at the end of the street, I stopped to listen as someone read aloud a piece—hey! I understood nothing!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“In the end, I paid attention only to my glass of wine!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The minor landowner Turgenev, visiting St. Petersburg from the provinces, remarked: “Heheh, university student! Better spend that time planting two more acres—seeds sprout in the soil, but ink on paper is often a waste.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Smirnov, a fourteenth-rank clerk in his office, chose to encourage Mikhail:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I know the down-on-his-luck student. I hope his stories are eye-catching—preferably a collection of jokes. He should’ve come read them to me first—I love jokes.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Landlady Pavlovna said: “Instead of wasting time writing, why not find a way to pay your rent? Writing? That’s a game only noble masters can afford. A mere university student—who’s learned a few characters—dares to think he can match the nobles?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>………\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Mikhail, hearing these remarks: “………”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The university student had offended no one………\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though Nastasya insisted repeatedly she had never deliberately mentioned it, it was clear the news couldn’t have sprouted from the ground itself………\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Mikhail could only say he’d learned a lesson.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As for the other residents’ gossip, Mikhail didn’t take it too seriously.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In today’s Russia, literacy rates stood at only a few percent, and literature, as they said, was mostly the pastime of noble masters.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thinking of these things, Mikhail opened the door—and immediately saw Nekrasov, looking weary from travel.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Without preamble, Nekrasov seized Mikhail’s hand and exclaimed excitedly:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Mikhail, Vissarion Grigoryevich wants to meet you—right now. He’s waiting for you at a café. Do you have time?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Belinsky?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Mikhail paused briefly, then, with quiet excitement, nodded firmly: “I’m free. Let me put on my coat—we’ll go now.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Good! Excellent!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To others, Nekrasov seemed far more excited than Mikhail.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And Nekrasov’s excitement stemmed not only from Mikhail, but largely from his desire to introduce Mikhail to Belinsky himself.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In short—he wanted to present his idol.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Mikhail understood. Having a clear grasp of this history, he knew exactly how Russian intellectuals of this era felt about Belinsky.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After all, from another perspective, intellectuals’ status and the public’s reverence for them far surpassed what it would become in later times.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This stemmed from influences like the European Enlightenment and the dominance of idealism—complex factors, too detailed to dwell on now.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In short, intellectuals believed they could change the world through thought—and were already turning their ideas into reality.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This is evident in Belinsky’s own 1847 letter to Gogol:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“As I know, you don’t understand the Russian masses. Our people’s character is shaped by Russian society, which harbors and imprisons certain boiling, desperate forces awaiting eruption.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But these forces are suppressed—crushingly suppressed—unable to breathe, unable to escape, giving rise to depression, bitterness, despair, and apathy. Only in literature, under our Tartar-style censorship, is there life and forward motion. Hence the dignity of the writer’s calling, hence even modest talent can succeed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hence our writers, no matter how poor their gifts, if they express the spirit of freedom, attract the masses’ gaze—for the people see writers as their only leaders, defenders, and saviors who will rescue them from the darkness of autocracy, Orthodoxy, and national tradition.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Of course, Belinsky wrote this letter to satirize Gogol—for betraying his divine talent by serving the Tsar—but it also reveals his understanding of the writer’s role, his affirmation of writers, and his hope that true writers would do what they must.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Incidentally, in 1849, Dostoevsky publicly recited this letter to awaken fellow writers—to make them write fiercely!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And then he was sentenced to death………\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Cough, cough—thankfully he didn’t die; otherwise, Russian literature would have lost one of its peaks.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Meanwhile, this passage reveals Belinsky’s truest belief: as a writer, if you don’t write fiercely, are you even a writer?!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Frankly, from Mikhail’s postmodern perspective, this view of the writer carries a whiff of intellectual arrogance.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They wouldn’t even give you a leather belt—you dare write fiercely? Dare claim you can lead the masses out of Russia’s darkness?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But in this era, noble masters wished their empire unchanged forever; the lower classes couldn’t even read, and merely surviving was hard enough. Unless pushed to rebellion, who dared defy the masters?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And even if they rebelled, without organization, discipline, or ideas, it was just another cycle.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So if neither you nor I write fiercely—what then becomes of this country?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Belinsky believed intellectuals and writers must shoulder their duty—write fiercely!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Of course, reality was far too complex to be solved by mere writing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But it was still a martyr’s effort.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In later times, writing fiercely might get you banned—barely a hiccup.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This led to the rise of keyboard warriors: no matter if you were bull or horse, man or ghost, educated or illiterate, whether you understood society at all—if you were unhappy, if you had nothing better to do, you could just type away, since nothing really happened.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They didn’t need logic, didn’t care how complex reality was—just emotion. They typed however they pleased, as if following their words alone could instantly fix the nation, society, even gender relations.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Of course, keyboard politics in this era differed from later times in some ways.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Back then, writing fiercely meant painstaking, meticulous thought, hard-won reflection before putting pen to paper.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At the same time, many writers, intellectuals, and passionate youths didn’t just write fiercely—they walked the front lines of revolution, many enduring persecution and exile.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But their blood was long buried beneath Siberian winds and snow, leaving no trace.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And the man Mikhail was about to meet was the pioneer of this age of fierce writing:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Vissarion Grigoryevich Belinsky.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The man who turned Russia’s literary circle into a keyboard battleground.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>(End of chapter)\u003C\u002Fp>",1074,"2026-06-20T14:41:53.633Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","7bb72b5703599f111b9207b5a1e595a28d35feb7207071ab6b6bef8ef35dd553","my-life-as-a-literary-giant-in-russia-chapter-11","my-life-as-a-literary-giant-in-russia-chapter-9",105,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fmy-life-as-a-literary-giant-in-russia-cover.jpg"]