[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-my-life-as-a-literary-giant-in-russia":3,"chapter-my-life-as-a-literary-giant-in-russia-my-life-as-a-literary-giant-in-russia-chapter-84":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","My Life as a Literary Giant in Russia",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2317259,4531,"Chapter 84: Considerations of a Young Man in Choosing a Vocation","my-life-as-a-literary-giant-in-russia-chapter-84",84,"\u003Cp>When Mikhail came to this salon at the invitation of General’s daughter, he had prepared to offer something in return.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Of course, not his backside, but something more normal.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But to his surprise, the young lady Nastya barely mentioned that matter at all—she just chattered like a little bird, talking about ordinary things, yet Mikhail found them quite interesting.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So, as they chatted, Mikhail gradually lowered his guard and ended up enjoying the conversation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>However, after talking for a while, perhaps because he’d spent too long recently with Turgenev and been infected by his aura, Mikhail unconsciously boasted: “I’ve been reading Hegel’s philosophy lately. Some parts are hard to grasp, but I think I’ve mostly understood it.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh? That’s great?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Nastya’s eyes lit up: “I’ve read quite a bit on this too, but there are still some things I don’t quite get—could I ask you for some advice?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Mikhail: “.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I barely ever brag, why does this have to happen to me?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Turgenev has ruined me!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though slightly embarrassed, Mikhail knew he was only vaguely familiar with the subject, so he quickly changed the topic.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The girl didn’t mind at all and followed along with his new subject.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thus, Mikhail silently resolved to study hard for a while.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Playing cards? What even is playing cards?!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I’ll never play again! I must study properly!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Besides, in today’s Russia, many daughters of wealthy families speak fluent French, read German, and have a passing knowledge of history, geography, art, and music.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But to say a Russian lady has “passing knowledge” of music isn’t the same as ordinary passing knowledge—later generations’ piano grade ten merely proves you’ve touched a few piano keys.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Talking to such a girl, Mikhail was awestruck but also under real pressure; fortunately, he remembered enough to bluff about anything, and since one must play to one’s strengths, by the end of their conversation, not only had he made the girl happy, but everyone else also formed a favorable impression of him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But as the salon ended, Mikhail looked at Turgenev, who had clearly enjoyed his own boasting, and at Dostoevsky, who had become subtly excited, and suddenly remembered he’d forgotten to mention the censor to Nastya.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Mikhail regretted this for a while, thinking he’d find a good moment to bring it up again—when, on the third gathering, as soon as he walked in, Nekrasov and Panayev rushed over to him, their faces filled with both delight and shame:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Dear Mikhail, good news—the editorship is confirmed. Although we still need to appoint a censor as a nominal editor, it’ll cost only two thousand five hundred rubles a year, far less than our original estimate.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“But we’ve made you suffer—alas!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Mikhail: “?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To be fair, I haven’t suffered at all.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though Mikhail tried to explain to Nekrasov and the others, the more he explained, the more ashamed they became, so he finally gave up and shifted to discussing the magazine’s future direction.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>About their plan to launch the magazine, rumors were everywhere, and under the deliberate spread by malicious parties, the public sentiment had grown even worse.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Panayev, having tasted the bitter fruit, was also scolded by his noble uncle, Fyodor Ivanovich Panayev, who currently served as Director of the Office of the Ministry of Court Affairs and had once been a writer who praised Arcadian shepherds and shepherdesses.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He believed his nephew’s association with common intellectuals and merchants defiled the honor of his ancient and illustrious lineage.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At the same time, this Fyodor Ivanovich Panayev rejected modern literature entirely; in his view, Gogol must be banned, for he claimed he could smell the odor of Chichikov’s servant emanating from all of Gogol’s works.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The approval of “The Government Inspector” for performance shocked him deeply. After all, he saw it as an obscene satire against the entire Russian administrative apparatus—yet the administration maintained social order and labored for the nation’s welfare, while a mere fourteenth-rank official dared to mock not only subordinates but even high officials.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In short, this high-ranking official believed himself a great man in the bureaucracy, so he carefully cultivated public respect for men like himself.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Of course, his hatred for the new literary trend led by Gogol also stemmed from Belinsky—because Belinsky had mocked in his writings those earlier writers who glorified shepherds and shepherdesses and mistook sentimentality for art.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This man felt his dignity as a writer had been deeply insulted—how dare a common intellectual who dropped out of school dare to ridicule his literary achievements?!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So whenever he spoke of Belinsky, he would foam at the mouth: “Such writers should be gagged and chained up, yet they’re still allowed to publish! What has literature become! The literary world is overrun by common intellectuals and petty bourgeois!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Former writers all came from privileged classes, so their literature was trustworthy—their subjects met moral standards. Now they only depict vile, sordid deeds. This is indulgence, terrible indulgence! Such base writers must be punished! Even Zhukovsky let a country bumpkin ride in his carriage, because—you know?—that fellow could scribble a few rustic, clumsy verses.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“It’s shameful!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Of course, Fyodor Ivanovich Panayev was not the only one holding such views about excessive leniency toward literature.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When Panayev spoke of this, he deliberately omitted his uncle’s opinion of Mikhail’s own work:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“His poems are decent—barely readable. But his novels—I don’t even want to say more. Just like you said, another Gogol! Maybe even worse! He should abandon novels and write poetry instead, or one day he’ll be arrested on some pretext for his writings!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After all, Mikhail probably won’t give up writing such novels, so it’s better not to add to his troubles.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After discussing the difficulties in launching the magazine, Mikhail said a few words that strengthened everyone’s confidence. Meanwhile, Belinsky, who had been listening quietly, asked with genuine concern: “Mikhail, how is your novel coming along? Moving from short stories to a full-length novel is a huge leap—even for you, I’m not sure you can pull it off well.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Almost ready.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As he nodded, he glanced at Dostoevsky, who was chatting with someone nearby—a problem that had long tormented Mikhail resurfaced in his mind.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Regarding Dostoevsky, if things proceeded normally, he would join the Petrashevsky Circle in the next two years, embrace utopian socialism, participate in many activities, and thus suffer the hardships that followed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Those hardships destroyed him, yet perhaps also forged him—so for himself, which did he truly want: to be a carefree gambler, or a great writer?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Of course, old Dostoevsky might want both.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But if experience is truly vital to a writer’s life, then if Mikhail now prevents Dostoevsky from joining the Petrashevsky Circle, is he helping him—or harming him?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even if Mikhail stops him, will the young Dostoevsky truly not be drawn to those noble ideals?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After all, the young Dostoevsky is still a normal youth, with his own views on things.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Others may influence him, but can such ideological convictions be changed so easily?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>True, after Dostoevsky’s journey to Siberia, his views on many things changed profoundly—but before that, according to his letters and other documents, his faith in those noble ideals at this stage contained little contamination.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So should Mikhail intervene now? And if he does, will it even matter?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Meanwhile, Mikhail himself faced a similar dilemma. By now, one could truly say to him: “Mikhail, stop! The Tsar’s gendarmes are everywhere!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If Mikhail proceeds normally with the magazine, writes articles within safe limits—or even barely writes at all, and supports young writers—he might live quite comfortably even in today’s Russia.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But can he do that? Should he do that?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And if he gained enough influence—even just a bit more in royalties—could he do more? What could he do?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ultimately, this is not an era of peace; everything is undergoing violent change. Countless people wander in confusion, forging paths ahead—though the road ahead is uncertain, they press forward bravely for ideals that seem ethereal.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So what should Mikhail, who perhaps knows a short-term correct answer, do?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I have an 8 a.m. class!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Why should a college student even consider these questions?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Sometimes, when Mikhail thought too much about these things, he felt like he couldn’t breathe—but feeling the martyr-like spirit radiating from Belinsky and others, he revived a little.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But even now, Mikhail still dared not claim he had a definite answer.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But since things have come to this, focus on what’s right in front of you!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After a moment of quiet reflection, seeing everyone around him watching with concern, Mikhail rallied his spirits and smiled—the same smile many had seen before and now trusted: “Winter has come—can spring be far behind?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>(End of chapter)\u003C\u002Fp>",1442,"2026-06-20T14:41:53.633Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","514da6298f01b121f8b50e4183956311f5a5a4d68ae72fc947147403fa1699f6","my-life-as-a-literary-giant-in-russia-chapter-85","my-life-as-a-literary-giant-in-russia-chapter-83",105,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fmy-life-as-a-literary-giant-in-russia-cover.jpg"]