Chapter 90: New Literary Award (Combined Two-in-One)

Although this time Mikhail's separation from his mother and sister would not be as long as before, when the day of parting truly arrived, the three embraced tightly. After Pulkheria and Donya boarded the carriage, the three still gazed at each other from afar, only turning away once they could no longer see each other's figures.

In this era on the verge of awakening, whether reunion or parting, everything feels so prolonged. If luck is slightly worse, a single parting could mean three or five years, seven or eight years, or even never meeting again—none of which would be considered very rare.

From this perspective, it is not without reason to say that literature is, in a sense, increasingly "regressing." After all, for modern people, it is probably difficult to deeply experience such profound and genuine moments as "Peaches and plums in spring breeze, a cup of wine; ten years of night rain on the rivers and lakes," or "The face is gone, no one knows where; the peach blossoms still smile in the spring breeze."

With the development and changes of the era, many complex emotional experiences are inevitably becoming vulgar, simplified into a few flashy sentences, a few passages of music, and some fragmented snippets.

Of course, this is not necessarily a bad thing. At least people have some right to make choices, and modern people also have experiences belonging to modern people.

And just like the immortal opening that Dickens has not yet written in "A Tale of Two Cities" in these days:

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. It was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness. We had everything before us, we had nothing before us. We were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way."

After seeing off his mother and sister, Mikhail soon sent another sum of money home through the post office. He had certainly given some when leaving, but carrying too much money while traveling is certainly not a good thing.

After that, Mikhail continued to meet all kinds of people in his office, bragging a bit and drinking tea. After a few more days passed this way, Mikhail finally found some free time.

Now that he was free, one day Mikhail sat on his sofa, thought for a while, then happily put on his coat and walked straight to the Panayev house.

Because he had been quite busy recently, Mikhail had attended gatherings at the Panayev house far less often. Thinking it over carefully, this really was not right.

Furthermore, although he was not there, he had heard others talk a bit about what happened at the gatherings. Among them, the most frequent and special topic was about the young Dostoevsky.

Simply put, because Mikhail was absent, the young Dostoevsky had recently gained great fame in the cultural circles of St. Petersburg. Due to his youth and impulsive temperament, he always unconsciously wanted to refute others to show off his superiority.

Once or twice was fine, but over time, this inevitably made others somewhat intolerant.

Fortunately, Turgenev had gone to the countryside to settle down due to Belinsky's urging; otherwise, with his sharp tongue, the young Dostoevsky would likely have been driven to the point of intolerance by him.

Later, the reason for their first rift was that Turgenev, in front of Dostoevsky, told everyone about meeting someone who thought he was a genius in the provinces, then cleverly described that person's absurdities.

At that time, the young Dostoevsky's face turned pale and his whole body trembled upon hearing this. He left before Turgenev finished his description. After Dostoevsky left, Turgenev remained immersed in his own story, even writing a poem to mock Dostoevsky.

On the surface, it seemed to be a matter of personality: Old Dostoevsky was sensitive, impulsive, and a bit fond of showing off, while Turgenev loved to brag and had a somewhat sharp tongue. But the deeper reason was actually a difference in ideology.

Turgenev was a returnee from studying abroad, considered a staunch atheist, while Dostoevsky held very strong Christian thoughts. Upon their first meeting, although Turgenev acknowledged Old Dostoevsky's talent, he could not help but privately mock the Christian thoughts in Old Dostoevsky works.

Later, the fundamental reason for the conflict between the two was roughly the same: Old Dostoevsky focused on patriotism and love for Christ, while Old Turgenev, having lived abroad for a long time, believed that only Western European thought and path could save Russia.

This led to their meeting in Germany later on. Even though they had just gone through a honeymoon period, their words and ideals remained quite incompatible.

Dostoevsky kept saying: "Hey! We Russians, so authentic! The Third Rome, the orthodox of Christianity! This world will sooner or later need us Russians to save it! France and Germany? Just stray dogs by the roadside!"

Turgenev was equally unreserved: "You're bragging! What has Russia become, and you're still bragging here? Open your eyes and look at the world! The source of thought is in old Germany, the revolutionary base is in Paris! Russia? Just a dried bone in a grave!"

As a result, the two naturally engaged in a passionate verbal clash.

Old Dostoevsky called him a fake foreigner and a Russian traitor; Old Turgenev called him a corrupt old conservative.

Then they parted in discord.

Of course, even so, when Old Dostoevsky went gambling in Germany and lost his mind, he still did not forget to write a letter asking the wealthy Turgenev for a loan of one hundred silver marks.

Old Turgenev did lend the money, but he also used this as an excuse to make Old Dostoevsky feel bad, so he only lent half and made Old Dostoevsky sign an IOU.

Although Old Dostoevsky was a gambler, he had thin skin and a big temper. After angrily signing the IOU, he mocked Old Turgenev again, so the two had another falling out.

Differences in ideology can be said to be the root cause of rifts and even mutual attacks among intellectuals in these days.

However, if we speak truly, both sides have their own reasons, even in terms of the outcome.

On one hand, Russia inherited certain thoughts from Western Europe; on the other hand, the strong messianic complex originating from religion has always lingered around later Russia.

Simply put, the messianic complex manifests as a strong sense of national pride and a savior complex. When this complex comes into contact with the lofty ideal of "liberating all mankind," it produces a very profound resonance.

However, at the same time, it naturally gave rise to...

Of course, let us not say more about this for now.

Walking on the road to the Panayev house, while thinking of these things, Mikhail also had a headache for a while over the matter of the young Dostoevsky.

And while Mikhail was having a headache, on the other side, in the Panayev house, because it was once again a weekly gathering, Belinsky, Nekrasov, and the others were basically all present.

Because Mikhail, that devil, had not come much these days, Belinsky, who loved to play cards, had played to his heart's content amidst his enthusiastic work. This gathering was no different.

At this moment, the time for the first issue of the new magazine to be published was very close. Belinsky had basically finished the work at hand and even did much more. Amidst excitement and enthusiasm, Belinsky came to the Panayev house again, wanting to play cards and relax for a while.

It was still the same saying: because there was no Mikhail, Belinsky played cards very happily. However, occasionally coming to his senses, Belinsky looked at Dostoevsky, who was showing off and arguing with others nearby, and he said to Nekrasov in a low voice, somewhat puzzled:

"What is wrong with Dostoevsky? He keeps saying the same things, and so passionately."

"He has been like this recently, just like many arrogant writers I have met."

Glancing at the passionate Dostoevsky, Nekrasov shook his head and helplessly shrugged, saying: "You know, not every genius is Mikhail. Although I think this is quite normal, his behavior recently has been too excited."

"Sigh."

Belinsky could not help but sigh. Although he understood this, he still said with some worry: "Dostoevsky's talent is beyond doubt, but if he does not improve it and thinks he is a genius, he cannot progress. Why can't he be like Mikhail?"

"Perhaps it is just a difference in personality," Nekrasov said, spreading his hands. "However, if Dostoevsky gets too excited, we can mention Mikhail's name. After hearing it, he often calms down a lot. But if mentioned too often, he will also get annoyed, shouting that others only use Mikhail's name to talk, but dare not discuss One's own idea."

"Speaking of which, Mikhail hasn't been here for a while."

Belinsky shook his head and sighed: "Besides work, he seems to have been accompanying his mother and sister. But calculating the time, his mother and sister should have already left. So does he have more time now?"

"What's wrong, dear Vissarion?"

Seeing Belinsky's expectant face, Nekrasov could not help but ask with a smile: "Do you want him to come over?"

"Of course... no, no! Don't come today! You know, I finally managed to come here to relax. If Mikhail comes, he will ruin this wonderful night!"

Although Belinsky kept shaking his head, as the saying goes, fear brings what you fear. Just as Nekrasov was about to say something else to Belinsky, a small cheer suddenly came from the doorway:

"It's Mikhail!"

"It's been a while, dear Mikhail! How have you been? I heard you've made quite a splash in the publishing world!"

"Finally waited for you! Only God knows how happy I am to see you!"

Hearing such voices, a look of joy immediately appeared on Belinsky's face. But before he could happily stand up to find Mikhail, he thought of something, sat down again, and hurriedly said to the card players beside him:

"Let's play another round quickly! God! If he can make Mikhail unable to play cards today, then I will truly re-establish my faith!"

Because Belinsky's voice was very low, Mikhail knew nothing of all this. He first greeted everyone present one by one. Facing everyone's praise and jokes, Mikhail behaved quite humbly. He never mentioned those seemingly glorious achievements, only talking about the interesting things he encountered during this process, and sharing a few harmless small jokes with those around him.

And the young Dostoevsky saw all of Mikhail's behavior.

Although Mikhail had been like this before, now seeing him again, this young man who had just been excited involuntarily stepped back a bit, not knowing how to speak for a moment.

But Mikhail clearly did not ignore him; after greeting those around him, he walked straight to his side and said with a smile, "Dear Fyodor, how have you been lately? Do you have any new writing plans? I am very much looking forward to your new work!"

To be honest, although Old Dostoevsky made a sensation with the work "Poor Folk," perhaps blinded for a time by his fame and success in the literary world, he actually went through a long slump after "Poor Folk," and some of his works were criticized by Belinsky.

And the more he wanted to prove himself, the less likely he was to write works stunning enough.

If possible, Mikhail still hoped Old Dostoevsky could settle down and write properly for a while sooner.

Facing his words, the young Dostoevsky's face instantly flushed red; he nodded hurriedly, uttered two syllables, and then found he could say nothing at all.

Mikhail did not mind this; he simply patted his shoulder to signal him to relax, then, under the gaze of others, walked over to Belinsky.

When Belinsky felt Mikhail's approach, although he was indeed quite happy in his heart, the hand holding the cards still trembled involuntarily, and his heart grew more and more unsettled.

Finally, when Mikhail walked over, Belinsky raised both hands as if surrendering and sighed, saying:

"Alas! Alas! It seems I can only remain an atheist. Mikhail, you win! What will you do next? Sit down and play cards? Then I shall quickly give up my seat to you! Come! Come like a storm!"

Mikhail: "???"

Do I love playing cards that much?!

Slander, it's all slander!

"Dear Vissarion, look at what you take me for."

The corner of Mikhail's mouth twitched involuntarily before he spoke: "I came today to discuss a major matter concerning the magazine with you; this might have a significant impact on our magazine."

"Oh?"

Seeing that Mikhail had brought up the magazine, Belinsky immediately emerged from his sighing and asked in haste, "What is it?"

"A literary award, funded either by our magazine or by me personally."

After weighing his words, Mikhail continued: "In short, let us establish a prize fund! Specifically to reward writers who publish excellent works in our magazine!"

(End of this chapter)