Chapter 57: The Three Imaginative Classmates

When Mikhail and Belinsky set out for Krayevsky, the publisher of The Fatherland Notes, Nekrasov followed after them.

He didn’t need to collect his manuscript fee, but he still wanted to discuss further with Mikhail and Belinsky about the Petersburg Anthology.

Among the great writers of his time, Nekrasov was truly the only one with business acumen; the others were either nobles, gamblers, or classic paupers.

Besides working tirelessly these past few years, Nekrasov had already published several small anthologies and earned considerable side income; after tasting success, he planned to go big—and had mentioned this to Belinsky more than once.

Upon learning of Nekrasov’s idea, Belinsky immediately threw himself enthusiastically into the publishing project.

Leveraging his own influence, he began writing letters to renowned writers, poets, and other artists he knew, requesting manuscripts or other works.

In this process, Belinsky fully upheld the Russian literary circle’s tradition of robbing the rich to aid the poor: he believed writers with assets should not accept Nekrasov’s money, and in his promotion he declared that helping a destitute colleague escape hardship so he could breathe freely and pursue his beloved work was every writer’s duty.

It sounded overly idealistic, yet many responded earnestly that year; among them, Turgenev contributed his poetry and short stories, while Herzen—who would later be called the “Father of Russian Socialism”—submitted his political essays and novels under the pseudonym Iskander.

At present, this fiery man was in Moscow; Mikhail would need to wait some time before meeting him, and his story was certainly epic—but for now, it would be set aside for later.

Then the great translator Kroonenberg submitted an article on translation methodology, Count Sollogub delivered a play and a novel, Duke Odoevsky contributed a novella and a philosophical essay, and many other poets and writers freely gave their manuscripts.

If poets and writers had done so, Russian artists certainly couldn’t fall behind; thus, the great painter Akin designed all the illustrations for the journal for free, and the master engraver carved the plates for them without charge…

So after all this effort, exhausting so much social capital, and cheerfully writing the preface for the anthology, what did Belinsky get?

Hey! I, Belinsky, didn’t take a single kopeck!

If Belinsky had such connections and influence, why not start his own anthology and get rich?

In his own words: “Do I have the ability to pull this off? It takes skill—you can’t run up debts, without printing and paper, nothing gets started, and you must deal with all kinds of people, negotiate deals—”

“My fate is probably to spend my whole life as a literary servant, working for masters who grow rich and mock me—look at this fool, he roasts the chestnuts, and we take them from him, leaving him only the shells!”

It was self-mockery, but Belinsky truly acted this way.

Moreover, Belinsky genuinely lacked the ability to interact with all kinds of people—a common flaw among many artists.

Nekrasov, by contrast, had spent years hustling in St. Petersburg; he dared to think and act, feared no debt; for the publication of the Petersburg Anthology, besides his own modest savings, most expenses were either borrowed or on credit.

The key was, he pulled it off—no one could help but admire him.

Belinsky, a thirty-something bachelor who had only just married, naturally dared not take such a risk.

But now, for some reason, Belinsky had unconsciously taken Mikhail’s seemingly joking remark as a vague yet subtly hopeful wish.

That remark was about buying the publishing rights to a magazine and offering him an extremely high salary.

Returning to the present, after the three reunited, they first seriously discussed the progress of the Petersburg Anthology; spurred and encouraged by Mikhail’s involvement and strong confidence, Nekrasov accelerated his work, the manuscripts Belinsky had solicited gradually arrived, and Mikhail, besides submitting his own work and boosting morale, planned to borrow some rubles to expedite the project.

After talking seriously with the two, Mikhail mentally calculated: if things continued at this pace, the Petersburg Anthology would be published several months earlier than in history—then the question arose: could Dostoevsky deliver his Poor Folk sooner?

Appear, Poor Folk, my proudest Dostoevsky!

As Mikhail pondered this, the three had nearly finished discussing progress, and Belinsky couldn’t help sighing: “It feels like the anthology’s publication isn’t far off—I hope it sells well, so Nikolai can escape his debts and focus on poetry. Mikhail, your life might even improve a bit.”

“Don’t worry, dear Vissarion,” Mikhail, snapping back to reality, said firmly: “It will sell out completely! Rather, let’s think about what we’ll do after we earn enough from this anthology. First, we’ll try launching a magazine…”

“Look at you, Mikhail, you’re joking again!” At these words, Belinsky burst out laughing, and Nekrasov smiled and shook his head.

Though they didn’t truly believe it would go so smoothly, these two impoverished men couldn’t help but begin to fantasize…

Belinsky fantasized:

“I’ll become a wealthy man!… Ah, then I could live a year of plenty, no longer tolerating others’ abuse—I’d set my terms: unwilling? Fine!—Good heavens, could such a happy moment truly come to me, freeing me from the chains of servitude?!”

Nekrasov fantasized:

“Good heavens! If this really happened, wouldn’t I finally stand tall before her? Why would I need to avoid her? I’d have my own career! I could stand calmly at the center of the crowd like Mikhail! Not just that—then even Mikhail would come to me for his manuscript fee!”

Watching these two men lost in fantasy, Mikhail couldn’t help but fantasize too:

“God, surely now I can finally pay off my debt to landlady Pavlovna? Then she can’t use it as an excuse to demand I meet her daughter! I could send a large sum to Mother and my sister—my sister’s dowry might finally be possible! In today’s Russia, how can a respectable marriage happen without a good dowry?

With this money, even if I’m forced to flee abroad, I’ll have enough to survive!”

The three men, suddenly lost in fantasy, walked forward, still dreaming…

(End of Chapter)