Chapter 39: Hunter's Notes

During the period waiting for his novel to pass review, besides daily study and writing, the only outdoor activity Mikhail engaged in was attending gatherings and salons to eat and drink heartily; since Mikhail was not keen on socializing, up to now, his main battlefield remained at the Panayev family's home.

However, as he gradually became more familiar with others, Mikhail slowly gained many opportunities to visit other salons and gatherings, with the first and most prominent being an invitation from me, Turgenev, Brother Turgenev:

"Hey! Mikhail, a young man like you cannot stay at home all the time; you should go out and socialize more, see more things and people, and communicate more with those lovely Young Ladies. With your looks and talent, once they get to know you even slightly, they will surely fall in love with you!

And do you know how many people in the cultural circle of St. Petersburg have been discussing you recently? Now half of St. Petersburg is talking about it! Everyone wants to meet you, hear how you create your novels, and even wants to hear you read them aloud!"

Mikhail: "?"

How did I not know that so many people wanted to meet me?

But thinking from another angle, if I stay at home all day long, others seem to have no chance to invite me.

Mikhail: "!!!"

Damn it!

How many banquets have I missed?!

Thinking about what those rich people eat all day long, and then thinking about what I eat on ordinary days, Mikhail was so regretful that he kept slapping his thigh.

Fortunately, although my Brother Turgenev loves to show off and his mouth is a bit chatty, his character is indeed acceptable; upon learning that Mikhail seemed truly unaware, my Brother Turgenev immediately slapped his thigh as well:

"Mikhail, when there are any gatherings or salons in a couple of days, I will take you directly! Those Mr. s and Young Ladies will be very happy with your arrival, and I recall you have never had love before; this won't do, dear Mikhail, how can a person get by without love?

I know you might still be young, lacking experience, and don't know how to deal with women, but it doesn't matter; next time you go with me, just watch me and learn; if you can learn even two or three tenths of my skill, that will be completely enough for you, Mikhail!"

Mikhail: "."

Still bragging; if you were really that awesome, you wouldn't have been strung along by others for so many years.

But then again, this issue isn't important; the more important issue Mikhail naturally had to ask personally.

So, when once again eating and drinking at the Panayev family's home—pfft! I mean, discussing art and philosophy—Mikhail couldn't help but ask:

"Do those Mr. s provide meals when they host their salons?"

"Provide meals?" Having met several times, Turgenev had grown accustomed to Mikhail's somewhat strange but indeed understandable expressions, so he immediately nodded to indicate:

"Of course, a truly well-bred noble would never let their guests leave on an empty stomach. However, for gatherings like this, the focus has never been on that, but on associating with those respectable Mr. s, hearing certain life experiences and artistic insights from them, and feeling the pulse of thought and wisdom!"

Mikhail: "."

I only saw beef, cod, roasted grouse, mille-feuille, and white bread dancing before my eyes.

But such things certainly cannot be spoken aloud; if these well-fed noble masters thought him lacking in style and stopped inviting Mikhail, that would indeed be a huge loss.

Therefore, while agreeing to Turgenev's invitation, Mikhail also skipped over this topic.

And this gathering, perhaps because Turgenev had become much more familiar with Mikhail, saw the always cheerful young man unusually serious; after pondering for a while, Turgenev looked at Mikhail, who was silently devouring food, and asked:

"Dear Mikhail, may I ask you some questions regarding writing?"

Mikhail: "?"

Huh?

Who are you?

And who are you going to ask questions from?

Me?

Surprised, Mikhail even unconsciously stopped eating; after reacting for quite a while, Mikhail finally closed his slightly open mouth, then nodded and said, "Ask whatever you want to ask; I will tell you whatever I can answer."

"Upon seeing your works, dear Vissarion often tells me about a literary concept and a literary creation technique he affirms; although there are works by the great Alexander (Pushkin) and Gogol as examples, sometimes I still feel some confusion regarding the 'people-ness' and 'realism' he speaks of.

You know, this differs greatly from the artistic trends that have been popular in Russia for a long time.

But when I saw those two of your works, it was as if the Muse had glanced at me; things that were previously confusing and incomprehensible suddenly became clear! I previously had no chance to express my excitement upon seeing your works, but now I can finally tell you everything!"

Mikhail had been listening very carefully, but after listening for a long time and seeing that Turgenev's flattery showed no sign of stopping, Mikhail could only smile and nod repeatedly, and appropriately reminded him, "So what do you want to ask, Ivan? Just say it."

"Then I will say it clearly." After Turgenev calmed down, his face was serious while also unconsciously showing some sorrow:

"After seeing your works, my original intention was to learn your ideas and observe those people in St. Petersburg who have always been ignored by us, but I found I really know so little about them that I cannot even make the most basic descriptions.

I also thought about observing them with my heart, but when I appeared beside them, they often felt very uncomfortable, to the point of being unable to continue their work. But can I really not write anything for them? Many times, I often think of such things."

"Ivan, regarding writing, at the very beginning, one must often start with the people and things one knows best; facing people you know absolutely nothing about, it is very difficult to achieve the effect you want in a short time."

Shaking his head, Mikhail looked at the seemingly somewhat depressed Turgenev and continued:

"But think about it; although you are somewhat distant from some people in today's St. Petersburg, do you really have no familiar people? Those closest to you, the people who walk past and run past you time and again."

"You mean..."

(End of this chapter)