Chapter 84: Considerations of a Young Man When Choosing a Profession

When Mikhail came to this salon at the invitation of General Yegorov's daughter, he had actually made some preparations to pay a price.

Of course, not his backside, but something else more normal.

But to his surprise, this young Miss Nadia hardly discussed this matter with Mikhail at all; instead, she chattered incessantly like a little bird. The topics were not particularly special, but Mikhail found them quite interesting.

So, as they chatted on, Mikhail tentatively lowered his guard, and they ended up having quite a pleasant conversation.

However, after chatting for a while, largely because he had been spending too much time with Turgenev recently and had been infected by his aura, Mikhail unconsciously bragged: "I have been reading Hegel's philosophy lately. Although some parts are a bit difficult to understand, I feel I have grasped most of it."

"Oh? That's wonderful?"

Nadia's eyes lit up: "I have also read quite a bit in this area, but there are indeed some questions I don't quite understand. May I ask you for advice?"

Mikhail: "..."

I rarely brag, so why did I run into this situation?

Turgenev has misled me!

Although it was slightly awkward, Mikhail did know that his current level was merely "a little knowledgeable," so he could only quickly change the topic.

The young lady didn't mind at all and continued the conversation following Mikhail's lead.

As a result, Mikhail secretly made a firm resolution in his heart to study hard for a while.

Playing cards? What is playing cards?!

Never play again! Must study hard!

Besides, it must be said that in today's Russia, many young ladies from wealthy families often speak fluent French, can read German, and know a little about history, geography, art, music, and so on.

However, to speak of "knowing a little about music" in the Russian sense is not an ordinary "knowing a little." In the future, a Piano Grade Ten certificate can only prove one thing: you have touched a few piano keys.

Talking to such a young lady, Mikhail's eyes were opened, but the pressure was truly a bit heavy. Fortunately, he remembered quite a lot of things and could brag about anything. Plus, one must be good at leveraging strengths and avoiding weaknesses. So, after the conversation, besides making this young lady very happy, Mikhail also left a very good impression on everyone else present.

But until the salon ended, looking at Turgenev, who was bragging to his heart's content, and Dostoevsky, who was unconsciously a bit excited, Mikhail suddenly remembered that he seemed to have forgotten to mention the censor to Nadia.

For this, Mikhail felt regretful for quite a while, just thinking about finding a suitable time to bring up the matter again. Who would have thought that at the gathering on the third day, as soon as he entered the door, Nekrasov and Panaev walked over to him excitedly, then said with both surprise and shame:

"Dear Mikhail, good news. The matter of the editor has been settled. Although we still have to invite a censor to serve as a nominal editor, it will cost only 2,500 rubles a year, which is much better than our initial estimated expenses.

However, you have suffered, alas!"

Mikhail: "?"

To be honest, I don't seem to have suffered much.

Although Mikhail tried to explain to Nekrasov and the others, seeing that the more he explained, the more ashamed they became, Mikhail finally gave up and instead started talking with them about the future direction of the magazine.

Regarding their plan to launch a magazine, rumors were everywhere outside, and under the deliberate spread by some ill-intentioned people, the public sentiment on this matter seemed to have turned even worse.

While Panaev tasted the bitter fruit, he was also reprimanded by his honorable uncle, V. I. Panaev. This gentleman, who currently serves as the Director of the Office of the Court Affairs Department, was originally a writer who had sung praises to the shepherds and shepherdesses of Arcadia.

He believed that his nephew associating with commoner intellectuals and businessmen was tarnishing the glory and ancient lineage of his family.

At the same time, this V. I. Panaev did not acknowledge modern literature. In his view, Gogol must be banned from writing because, in his opinion, one could smell the odor emanating from Chichikov's servant in all of Gogol's works.

Furthermore, the approval of "The Government Inspector" for performance shocked him greatly. After all, he believed this was an unspeakable satire targeting the entire Russian administrative authority. Clearly, the administrative authority maintained social order and toiled for the welfare of the motherland, yet a mere fourteenth-rank official suddenly had the audacity not only to mock lower officials but even to mock high-ranking officials.

In short, this gentleman, who held a key position, considered himself an important figure in the official world, so he paid great attention to ensuring the public maintained the due respect for people like him.

Of course, the reason he disliked the new literary trend led by Gogol so much was also related to Belinsky. Roughly speaking, it was because Belinsky had mocked in his articles those writers of the past who sang praises to shepherds and shepherdesses and mistook sentimentality for fun.

This gentleman felt his self-esteem as a writer was greatly insulted. After all, a commoner intellectual who had dropped out of school in the middle of his studies actually dared to mock his literary achievements?!

So whenever Belinsky was mentioned, he would always get so angry that his spittle flew: "Such writers should be muzzled and chained up, yet they are still allowed to publish articles. What a mess literature has become! Commoner intellectuals and petty bourgeois have appeared in the literary world!

Writers of the past all came from the privileged class, so that kind of literature was trustworthy, and the subjects chosen by the authors conformed to moral requirements. Now, however, they only depict despicable and filthy schemes. This is permissiveness, terrible permissiveness! The vulgar writers of today must be punished! Even figures like Zhukovsky let a bumpkin sit in his carriage because—you know? —that fellow could scribble a few rustic, distorted poems.

This is simply shameful!"

Currently, those who express such opinions and believe that literature is too permissive are certainly not limited to V. I. Panaev alone.

And when Panaev spoke of this matter, he deliberately omitted his uncle's view on Mikhail's own works:

"The poetry is not bad; one can barely read it. But as for his novels, I simply don't want to say much. Just as you said, another Gogol! Perhaps even worse! Let him give up novels and write poetry quickly, otherwise sooner or later he will be arrested by others on some flimsy pretext because of his own works!"

After all, Mikhail probably wouldn't give up writing such novels, so in that case, it was better not to add to his troubles.

After discussing the difficulties encountered in launching the magazine, and after saying a few words to boost everyone's confidence, Belinsky, who had been listening on the side, asked with considerable concern: "Mikhail, how is your novel preparation going? The leap from short stories to a novel is very large. Even for you, I am actually not sure if you can complete it well."

"Basically, it's almost done."

While nodding, he glanced at Old Dostoevsky, who was talking to someone nearby. A problem that made Mikhail feel a severe headache floated up in his mind again.

Regarding Dostoevsky, if things develop normally, he will join the Petrashevsky Circle in the next two years or so. While believing in Utopian Socialism, he will also participate in many activities, which will lead to the subsequent suffering.

This suffering destroyed him, but perhaps it also made him. So, for himself, does he want to become a carefree gambler, or be a great writer?

Of course, Old Dostoevsky might want both...

But if experience is truly crucial to a writer's life, then if Mikhail stops Old Dostoevsky from participating in the Petrashevsky Circle's activities next, is he helping him or harming him?

Or even, even if Mikhail stops him, will the young Dostoevsky really not be attracted by those noble ideals?

After all, the current Dostoevsky is certainly a normal young man who has his own set of views on things.

Others might influence him, but is it that easy to change things at the level of thought?

Admittedly, after the young Dostoevsky went to Siberia, his thoughts on many things underwent profound changes. But before that, according to those letters and other documents, his faith in those noble ideals during this period did not contain too many impurities.

So should Mikhail interfere next? And if he does interfere, will it be useful?

At the same time, Mikhail was also facing a similar problem. To put it bluntly, one could now say to Mikhail: "Misha, stop! Outside are all the Tsar's gendarmes!"

If Mikhail proceeds to run the magazine normally, ensuring his own safety while producing some articles or even writing less, and nurturing new literary talents, then even in today's Russia, his life would probably not be bad.

But can one do this? Is it possible?

And if one were to gain enough influence, or even just have a bit more in royalties, could one do more things? And what things could one do?

Ultimately, this is not a stable era. Everything is undergoing violent changes. Countless people are blazing a path amidst confusion. Even though the path ahead is vast and obscure, they are ultimately forging forward bravely for those seemingly ethereal ideals.

So, what should Mikhail, who seems to know a possibly correct answer in the short term, do?

I have an 8 AM class!

Why does a college student have to consider these problems?

Sometimes, when he thought a little too much about these questions, Mikhail would feel somewhat short of breath, but feeling that martyr-like spirit emanating from Belinsky and the others, Mikhail would, more or less, come back to life a little.

But even now, Mikhail still did not dare say he had a definite answer.

But things had already come to this point — first, let him do well what was before his eyes!

After a somewhat silent contemplation for quite a while, seeing that everyone around him was looking at him with concern, Mikhail pulled himself together once more, put on that smile which many present had seen and had already begun to trust, and said: "If winter has already come, can spring be far behind?"

(End of this chapter)