Chapter 102: Peter and Paul Fortress

Over two thousand years ago, Aristotle described humans in his Zoology, regarding them as the noblest creatures in nature due to their reason and wisdom, capable of thought, reasoning, creation, and reflection. Humans are the most outstanding of all animals.

Yet at the same time, if humans stray from the right path, they become the most vile of all beasts.

Whether right or wrong may vary by perspective, but humans indeed often exhibit deviations in thought and behavior.

In thought, there are always those who coin phrases or ideas that stir deep emotion in most who hear them.

Fairness, justice, honesty, kindness, freedom, all people are born equal.

But what is fairness? What is justice? What is freedom? What is kindness?

Do they differ when applied to different people?

And sometimes, as in Animal Farm, it is said: “All animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others.”

At the end of the eighteenth century and the beginning of the nineteenth, the great revolution in old France faced this mismatch between ideal and reality.

Those Enlightenment thinkers believed reason would rule the entire world; they turned to reason as the sole judge of all existing things. They held that a rational state and a rational society must be established, and everything contradicting eternal reason must be ruthlessly eradicated.

Yet in the end, the rational state completely collapsed. Rousseau’s social contract was realized in the Reign of Terror, and the bourgeoisie, having lost confidence in their own political abilities, first turned to the corrupt Directory, then sought refuge under Napoleon Bonaparte’s autocratic rule.

The age of revolution had come!

But after the revolution, did peace arrive? Did society improve? Was the plight of the poor and their children alleviated?

Or had it grown even worse?

Through this, one can roughly understand why writers of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries often displayed an anti-revolutionary tendency—after all, writers, as a group, are most prone to doubt and most likely to become moralists and humanitarians.

Dickens is a fairly typical example: on one hand, he tirelessly depicted the miserable lives of Britain’s lower classes; on the other, he showed in his novels how revolution destroyed people and brought ruin.

Nevertheless, the pursuit and impulse toward a so-called utopia seem forever embedded in human nature; some always willingly launch Don Quixote-like charges for an idealized world, even willing to sacrifice their own freedom and rights.

But the outcome is always contrary to intention.

While the feudal era had not yet ended and the bourgeois era had just begun, in 1515, Thomas More, as a member of Parliament, wrote Utopia during a European journey, basing it on sailors’ tales.

In his book, he wrote: the suffering of English peasants stems from sheep devouring men; private ownership is the source of poverty.

Later, with the development of the Industrial Revolution, more and more thinkers discovered that industrialization only enriched a small minority; they saw emaciated children forced to work from an early age, workers drowning in drink to escape their sorrows, and grew ever more convinced that only a completely new society could save humanity.

Thus, like the Enlightenment thinkers, they began seeking a new path to realize their ideal kingdom.

Some merely imagined it; others began trying to practice it. Though all ultimately faced failure, they had indeed sounded a new voice.

This voice gradually echoed across the European continent and naturally reached Russia, long influenced by European thought. In Russia, this idea stirred deep emotion among many intellectuals, and in any case, drew enthusiastic welcome from some.

Among them, Petrashevsky was certainly among the first to try the crab—and among the first to be punched in the face.

After hearing Dmitri’s words, Mikhail’s mind flashed through thought after thought, but in the end, he could only pat Dmitri’s shoulder, slightly excited, and say: “I see. I understand. But I’ve been busy lately—I need to think about some things. We’ll talk later.”

He sat down beside Dmitri.

After a moment of daze, Mikhail gradually came back to himself, looked at the food on the table, and, having been so absorbed in conversation during the gathering he barely ate, finally gave a relieved smile.

Forget it. It’s too late now. Let’s eat first.

So Mikhail began eating, amid the slightly puzzled glances of Dmitri and Old T.

“Does Mikhail not enjoy gatherings like this?”

The young Dostoevsky whispered to Dmitri: “But he really is busy—aside from playing cards, Mikhail seems to spend all his time working and studying.”

“I think he’s just plain hungry.”

Watching Mikhail eat, the bear-like man thought a moment, then turned to the table and said: “After talking so long, I’m hungry too. Let’s eat.”

Dostoevsky: “?”

Looking at the relatively fine food on the table, and having eaten little himself while financially strained, Dostoevsky paused, then nodded unconsciously: “Makes sense.”

Thus, the three of them feasted heartily amid the lively atmosphere.

Yet while Mikhail ate, his mind was still thinking.

Strictly speaking, Petrashevsky and his other group members were truly unlucky—they happened to live during a harsh period and happened to cross paths with Nicholas I, the great suppressor, which ultimately led to their exile.

After all, the early activities of the Petrashevsky group were merely intellectual exchanges; they never advocated overthrowing the Tsar’s autocracy through revolution.

But after the 1848 European revolutions, some radical figures in Russia prepared to emulate the European revolutionary wave. Some radical members of the Petrashevsky group then argued that they must mobilize the masses and seize the Tsar’s throne through armed uprising.

As they prepared to establish an underground printing press to spread revolutionary ideas among the people, the Tsar issued an order. Imperial agents descended, infiltrated Petrashevsky’s home disguised as revolutionaries, attended their meetings, recorded the discussions and speeches, and reported everything to the Tsar.

Thus, most of Petrashevsky’s members were caught like dumplings and sent to the infamous Peter and Paul Fortress.

But if Mikhail had gone in, he’d truly be on a pilgrimage to the holy land—damn it!

After eating his fill, Mikhail realized the situation wasn’t quite as dire as he’d first feared. But then again, he really ought to think about what to do—otherwise, when the time came, he might accidentally end up digging mines in Siberia with Dmitri and Old T.

(End of chapter)