Chapter 88: Turgenev's Literary Prophecy

After finally seeing off another young writer, Mikhail, who had been sitting upright in his chair with a smile, suddenly slumped into his office chair, staring blankly at the spacious ceiling and beginning to doubt life itself.

These past few days have truly exhausted him to the point of collapse.

Originally, in the process of founding the magazine, Mikhail played the role of an investor and encourager: on one hand, he mobilized his loan skills to ensure the magazine had no major financial issues; on the other, he discussed major matters regarding the magazine with Nekrasov and others, while also encouraging everyone to maintain confidence and move forward.

These two tasks were not particularly complex; if one had to say, Nekrasov and Belinsky were the ones who contributed the most. Nekrasov specifically handled the magazine's financial affairs and various other miscellaneous tasks, including the current office premises, which looked quite decent and had been rented at a bargain price by Nekrasov after extensive inquiries.

As for Belinsky, he naturally assembled the editorial team for the magazine "The Contemporary." One must know that in these times, finding editors was not easy; intellectuals willing to work at a magazine were already scarce, and given that "The Contemporary" had a clearly progressive and radical orientation, the pool of eligible candidates was even smaller.

Fortunately, Belinsky's network was quite extensive, and even if he couldn't recruit people immediately, Belinsky would simply work as hard as three or four people himself...

Regarding the selection of editors, although Mikhail had a few candidates in mind, the timing simply didn't align.

Among them, the legendary "King of Exile" Chernyshevsky, who had been exiled for a total of twenty-one years, was not expected to enter the History and Literature Department of Saint Petersburg University until next year.

And the two young critics who were rising around the same period and would profoundly influence Russian thought, Pisarev and Dobrolyubov, were at this very moment experiencing their carefree childhoods.

But to be honest, if these three were to gather in the future and start a battle, the magazine office would surely get punched in the face...

In short, professional matters should be left to professionals. Mikhail originally just wanted to be an ordinary shareholder of the magazine, but whether because he talked too much or because he had an encouraging personality, rumors circulated that Mikhail single-handedly founded "The Contemporary," while Nekrasov and Belinsky were merely his employees. To this, Mikhail could only say it was a complete topsy-turvy situation...

However, Nekrasov and Belinsky did not seem to find any problem with such claims; in fact, they publicly acknowledged them on multiple occasions, expressing their admiration for Mikhail's decisiveness and extraordinary vision.

Mikhail: "……"

Oh no, I've been ruling by doing nothing...

As these rumors spread wider and wider, more and more writers, poets, or publishers from other magazines wanted to meet Mikhail.

After all, seeing "The Contemporary" develop with such momentum, whether for future exchanges, cooperation, or other matters, it was essential to show one's face before the most influential figure of "The Contemporary."

Since things had developed to this point, Mikhail had no choice but to show up.

For the magazine to develop healthily, it inevitably had to deal with writers, poets, critics, and others; in their eyes, if Mikhail continued to refuse to see them, it would undoubtedly be seen as "The Contemporary" looking down on them.

In summary, Mikhail had to quickly buy himself a decent suit of clothes, sit in the office Nekrasov had specially reserved for him, and then begin to receive one by one the writers and other influential figures from the Saint Petersburg Cultural Circle who came to visit him.

Although, having been poor for so long, Mikhail was very unaccustomed to his new role, fortunately, after the series of events that occurred recently, he had already trained himself for it.

Even though he felt a bit nervous and uneasy inside, it was completely invisible on his face; on one hand, he maintained composure before those so-called influential figures, and even followed their lead to discuss the situation of the Saint Petersburg publishing industry, how everyone should interact and cooperate going forward, and reached a certain consensus on some relatively normal industry practices...

It sounded quite impressive, but Mikhail admitted he was just bluffing; he really didn't understand much...

Fortunately, it was just idle chat, and because others had a preconceived impression of him due to his reputation, as they talked, some couldn't help but say: "Mr. Mikhail, your insight is profound!"

It sounded quite ominous...

As for the young poets and writers, largely because in their eyes Mikhail was considered a so-called authority figure and had founded his own magazine, whenever they came before Mikhail, they always behaved somewhat reservedly.

There was nothing much to say here; treating guests politely was enough. Mikhail himself was young, so he naturally couldn't adopt the mannerisms of some old fogies; he had no real interest in manipulating others, even though there were always some who took pleasure in doing so.

Perhaps because some had encountered many setbacks or been manipulated by other authority figures, seeing Mikhail so gentle and polite, they were instantly moved, almost to the point of grasping Mikhail's hand and choking up with emotion.

Speaking of which, Turgenev's later rise to become the leader of the literary world was largely related to this; probably due to his gentle character, while he frequently treated people to meals, he was also very willing to nurture new talent. When a new literary figure read a manuscript before him, even if he thought the manuscript was utterly ridiculous, he would patiently listen to the entire piece and offer some gentle comments.

Of course, in private, he would still complain about the issue to others.

However, in the strict sense, Turgenev's prophecies regarding the literary futures of his contemporaries almost never came true.

For instance, he once prophesied that a law student named Apukhtin would, thanks to his poetic talent, achieve a reputation no less than that of Pushkin and Lermontov.

Facts proved this was indeed nonsense.

Furthermore, Old Turgenev was sometimes indeed a bit unreliable; for example, once he ran excitedly to Nekrasov, saying he had heard a young man recite his debut work, a piece so magnificent that he felt compelled to put down his pen to avoid showing his inadequacy before such a talent.

He also urged Nekrasov to obtain the manuscript immediately, claiming it would add five hundred subscribers to the magazine.

However, when Nekrasov finally managed to get it, he found the novel filled with duchesses and countesses, full of flowery language, and containing many obscure philosophical arguments.

And by now, Turgenev had already publicly made prophecies before the crowd more than once:

"Everyone! Just watch! Mikhail, dear Mikhail! He will be one of the most outstanding writers of our era! Perhaps even the only one! In the field of poetry, he will also achieve a reputation no less than that of Pushkin and Lermontov!"

Mikhail: "."

Seriously, don't actually jinx me to death.

Or are you trying to salvage your reputation as a literary prophet with this, you guy Turgenev?

By the way, after finishing That piece of mine under Belinsky's pressure, Old Turgenev rushed off to the countryside to settle down.

They called it settling down, but it was most likely just him avoiding Belinsky's pursuit.

Back to the main topic, although Mikhail was polite, whether something could be published in the magazine definitely depended on the quality of the work.

Regarding this, Mikhail had some of his own aesthetic sense and judgment; after all, his reading volume was not small, and with his recent efforts in learning, a simple glance was sufficient.

Among the manuscripts handed to him, some were unbearably dull, as if dug up from the last century; some were quite mediocre, neither good nor bad; and others were so aggressive that Mikhail's eyelids kept twitching as he read them.

However, strong aggression does not mean strong literary skill; literary works are ultimately not propaganda slogans. When the element of slogans is too dominant, it generally cannot be considered good literature.

Additionally, the meeting with this highly aggressive young man left a deep impression on Mikhail.

The other party was not only unafraid of the situation but immediately declared: "I emerged from your works! But perhaps that damn censorship restricted you, preventing you from speaking freely. Therefore, I am willing to write out everything I felt from your works."

Mikhail: "."

Good, very spirited.

But if you write like this, it will definitely not pass the censorship.

Regardless, Mikhail still accepted the manuscript, preparing to send it to Belinsky for his review to see if there was any possibility of publication.

It was still the same saying: professional matters should be left to more professionals. Therefore, Mikhail never readily concluded on any manuscript; he only discussed with others, listening to their discussions and opinions. However, in the end, many would still turn their gaze toward him and let him make the final decision.

Although Mikhail basically determined whether a manuscript could be published during the discussion and consultation process, when it came time to actually make the decision, he still felt a bit insecure.

Ultimately, he still had to continue adapting to his current identity.

Leaning back in this rather comfortable office chair for quite a while, Mikhail finally regained his spirits. Next, he would probably have to receive two more literary youths. Thinking that after meeting them he could go out to eat with his mother and sister, Mikhail smiled, and his eyes instantly became resolute.

Soon, the sound of knocking on the door rang out again.

(End of this chapter)