Chapter 43: Piracy Past

With Mikhail's latest two novels published, setting aside for now what impact they have had on the Cultural Circle of St. Petersburg, let us speak only of the tangible things.

At this very moment, in the editorial office of "The Fatherland Notes," the publisher Kraevsky, looking at the subscription numbers for this latest issue just tallied, found the solemnity and seriousness on his face, which he had always maintained to assert his status, clearly beginning to crumble, seemingly about to transform into a brilliant smile that would shock everyone around him.

As mentioned before, Kraevsky was a liberal; his liberalism was reflected in his ability to adapt very quickly to a new idea, provided that the emergence of this new idea was beneficial to the growth of the magazine's subscriptions.

Precisely for this reason, although he had previously been greatly surprised by Belinsky's sudden shift in thought, after seeing the magazine's subscription numbers, he had no further objections.

It was the same now; although to a certain extent, he felt quite uncomfortable with certain elements and tendencies appearing in Mikhail's novels, it did not matter; as long as there were subscription numbers, that was enough.

As for how much it had grown...

The editor Nikitin, who was responsible for bringing these figures to Kraevsky, exclaimed first: "Compared to the last issue, the subscription numbers for this issue have increased by nearly three hundred copies! God, this is almost as much as our entire growth for last year!

It is truly hard to imagine a new writer could bring us such growth; the last time someone did this was our dear Vissarion! But his works indeed deserve such attention; now, every cultured family in St. Petersburg should have heard of his novels."

"You are wrong, Nikitin." As if sensing something dangerous in the editor's words, the publisher coughed lightly, quickly restored his solemnity, and then said:

"The growth in subscriptions is the result of everyone's joint effort; how can it be simply attributed to one or two individuals? To say so would be unfair."

In that case, I haven't seen any change in the remuneration paid to us.

Moreover, not to mention us, even Vissarion, who drove and maintained the magazine's subscriptions, could only get that little bit in hand.

Although the editor Nikitin muttered these two complaints in his heart, facing this publisher who held considerable reputation in the Cultural Circle, he did not say much; yet, out of appreciation for Mikhail and what he had seen earlier, he spoke again:

"Respected Kraevsky, in that case, if this young man has another manuscript, I suggest raising his remuneration again..."

"Doing so will spoil the young man, Nikitin." Before the editor could finish, the solemn Kraevsky flatly refused: "How can a writer's remuneration rise again and again in such a short time? I was already quite surprised by the price you discussed with me last time, but considering the young man's situation, I ultimately agreed.

How little time has passed since then, and how could it possibly be raised again? Moreover, besides our "The Fatherland Notes," who else would be willing to accept his novels with unclear tendencies that do not conform to the current trends?"

Seeing that Kraevsky had spoken to this extent, the editor Nikitin naturally had nothing more to say and could only helplessly go about his own business, leaving Kraevsky there to continue admiring the statistical data.

In a sense, Kraevsky's current attitude was actually spoiled by the Russian writers and young people who possessed such dedication and ideals.

In Russia today, those willing to contribute to the cultural field were either nobles who lacked for nothing in food and clothing but were enthusiastic about cultural undertakings, or some young people harboring certain expectations and ideals.

The nobles enthusiastic about cultural undertakings, since they did not lack money, were often even willing to donate their own works for free, so as to fund those emerging magazines, thereby allowing the Russian Cultural Circle to have new scenes.

This was actually an old tradition in Russia, and it indirectly caused the rampant piracy in Russia later on; one could almost find free resources for everything on Russian websites.

The reason for this was actually closely related to the social responsibility of the writers of this period.

In short, the writers and political essayists of this period believed that their works were not only cultural consumer goods but also a form of education for the people, believing that the people would absorb something beneficial from their works.

Therefore, many of them, some time after their serialized novels were published, would quickly give up their copyright.

Old Turgenev and Old Tolstoy had both done such things; Old Tolstoy was the more extreme type, not only selling the copyright of his works at extremely low prices but also requiring booksellers to sell the works at the lowest possible price.

Later, the revolutionary writers of the Silver Age inherited this tradition, and by the Soviet period, this tradition was even further developed and promoted.

However, speaking of which, although this behavior was noble, for small publishers and authors lacking money, it was simply like the sky falling in.

Setting aside other things, Old Dostoevsky would absolutely be the first to disagree, and he would immediately say:

"Fuck you, you nobles have food and drink, but I have to use this remuneration to pay gambling debts and support a whole family..."

Ahem...

Of course, this behavior was undoubtedly noble; after all, for most people, who would dislike having too much money?

Kraevsky naturally belonged to that majority.

And besides being able to get manuscripts from these noble gentlemen, it was even easier to get them from the young people.

Simple-minded, full of passion, having ideals but lacking experience; at any time, exploiting this group was the easiest, even revolutions were like this.

In this era, countless young people would take to the streets, striving desperately for those ethereal concepts and ideals, but what would remain in the end?

In short, Kraevsky, as an authoritative figure in the Cultural Circle, found it extremely easy to dominate those youths by utilizing his authority and idol status.

Although Kraevsky had not yet formally met Mikhail, he was convinced that Mikhail might be slightly different from many of the youths he had met, but not too different.

And while Kraevsky was thinking this, on the other side, in Panayev's house, Belinsky and other group members had gathered as usual; only today's activity was slightly different, as they were all staring blankly at Mikhail at this very moment, listening to him say:

"I view Kraevsky as one with a label stuck on his head for sale! He is simply Plyushkin!"

(End of Chapter)