Chapter 2 On Dostoevsky from Dostoyev's Letters

We long to discover a god, but instead we find a man: sick, poor, toiling, and curiously devoid of that false virtue with which he so forcefully reproaches the French: eloquence.Regarding such a raw book, I will try to exclude all notions of dishonesty.If anyone hopes to find artistic, literary, or something interesting in it, then I immediately advise him to give up reading this collection of letters. The writing of the letters is often messy, clumsy, and incomprehensible.We are grateful to Mr. Pijenstock for not taking the trouble to conceal and correct this characteristic clumsiness.Therefore, all our quotations are based on Pijenstock’s translation, and the clumsy and grammatically incomprehensible parts are all trying to imitate the Russian original, although sometimes it feels awkward.

Indeed, it was disappointing on first reading.Hoffmann, the German biographer of Dostoevsky, suggests that a better selection of Dostoevsky's letters could have been made available by Russian publishers.According to Hoffmann, we can see from a look at Dostoyevsky's private correspondence that Dostoevsky's widow, Anna Grigoryevna, and Dostoyevsky's brother, Andrei Dostoevsky, were in the There was a bad idea in choosing Dolce's letters for publication, and they could have dropped several of the money-only letters and replaced them with a few more secretive ones.There are no less than 464 letters written by Toshi to his second wife, Anna Grigorievna, and one of them has not been published.But I don't believe the tone will be any different.

Look at this collection, thick, suffocatingly thick, not because there are so many letters, but because each letter is so shapeless.The collection can be as thick as possible, no matter how thick it is.We regret that Mr. Pijenstock did not take the trouble to compile and publish Dossier's letters, which have already appeared in various journals.Why, for example, did he take only the first of three letters published in the magazine "Field" (April 1898?)?Why not take the letter to Frangel, dated December 1, 1856?In the published fragments, at least, Dostoevsky recounts his marriage, apparently hoping that this happy mutation in his life will cure his neurasthenia.Especially why not take that wonderful letter of February 22, 1854?This is the most important of Dolce's letters published in "Russian Obstacles", and a translation by Halperina and Morris appeared in the July 12, 1886 issue of "Popular".Pijenstock appended to the collection of letters the "Indictment", three prefaces to "Time", a rambling "Foreign Voyage" (but there are a few passages which are of particular interest to the French), and a very The striking "On the Bourgeoisie," which we appreciate, but why didn't he add that touching defense: "My Defense" (written during the Petrashevsky affair, 8 published in Russia years ago, French translation [Rosenberger's translation] in the "Paris Magazine"), at the end, either a few notes from time to time will help to read, or a slight classification according to different periods will help to explain the intervals of silence , isn't it better?

There is perhaps no precedent for a letter of letters written so badly, I mean so crudely.He is skillful in "talking about others", but when he talks about himself, he is confused and confused, as if the thoughts that appear on the pen are not continuous, but thousands of them come together; or, as Renan said, "multiple branches and fruits" Having to tell the whole story freely makes me burnt out before I can publish my many thoughts to the public.Once these rich and complicated clues are controlled, it is conducive to the complex and vigorous plot layout in the process of creating novels.When Dostoyevsky was writing, he painstakingly and painstakingly changed each story page by page, destroyed and rewritten, tirelessly, until it was deeply pertinent and original, while the letters were written casually. Presumably no deletions were made, but the words were constantly changed. The so-called sloppy writing is done in one go, which means endlessly rushing for time.inspiration!The one used to measure the distance between the work and the author is none other than inspiration.what!A fascinating invention of the romantic school!The quick-witted poet!Where are you?Let's paraphrase Buffon's humble words: "Genius comes from diligence", which can't be more appropriate here.

"So, my friend, what's your theory?" he wrote to his brother as a fledgling, "Should a painting be done at once? . . . When did you become convinced? Listen, labor is everywhere , arduous labor. Believe me, a poem by Pushkin is light and elegant, only a few lines, and it seems to be completed in one go, but it turns out that Pushkin has been brewing for a long time, and it is easy to come by hand... Things written in letter pen are not mature. It is said that, Shakespeare's manuscripts don't have scribbles, and that's why his writing is grotesque and lacking in flavor. Shakespeare could have written better..."

This is the tone of the entire collection of letters.Dostoevsky used the best time and best emotions for creation, and no letter was written for entertainment. He repeatedly emphasized that "the aversion to letter writing is extremely strong, insurmountable, and unimaginable." of".He declared: "Letters are absurd things, and there is no way to express your heart and soul." What's more: "I wrote you everything, but found that my spiritual life and state of mind are not involved at all, not even a general idea." Not mentioned. No matter how long our correspondence lasts, it will be like this. I am not good at writing letters, and I am not good at writing myself, writing about myself properly.” In addition, he also wrote, “In the letter, nothing is written. I don’t know. For this reason, I have never tolerated Madame Sevigny: her briefs are too good.” He even declared humorously: “One day I will go to hell, and in order to punish my sins, I must be punished for writing a dozen letters a day.” I I think this is the only joke that can be transcribed in this melancholy book.

Therefore, he only wrote letters when absolutely necessary.Every letter of his life (except the last ten years, which is of a different tone, to which I shall speak), is a cry, he is penniless; he is cornered; he begs.What I mean by a cry is a desperate moan, endless and invariable.His request had no skill, no self-respect, and no irony.He begged, and he was not good at asking.He begged without delay; he pleaded over and over again to detail his needs... He reminded me of the angel told by St. Francis in the "Little Flower" who came disguised as a vagabond to the Valley of Spolet The new society knocked on the door so quickly, so long, and so hard that the monks got so angry that the master (we may allude to M. de Vaugueil) finally came out and said to him: "Who are you? Why don’t you know the rules of knocking?” The angel asked, “How should I knock?” The brother in charge replied, “Knock once, then knock three times, and then wait. The one who comes out to open the door should finish reading the Our Father. Etc. After this time, if no one comes out, knock on the door again..." The angel snapped: "But I'm as anxious as a spark..."

“I am in so many embarrassments that I am ready to hang myself,” Dostoevsky wrote, “I cannot pay my debts, nor can I go out to avoid them for lack of money.” “How will I live between now and the end of the year? I don't know. My head is about to crack, and there is no one to borrow money." (One of his heroes once said: "Being desperate, do you know what it means?") "I wrote to a relative, to him Borrow six hundred rubles. If he doesn’t send it, I’m finished.” Complaints of this kind and similar ones abound in the epistles, and I’ve picked them up without any trouble... Sometimes, every six months, he naively Emphasize it once: "Kong Ji needs money only once in his life."

In his last years, like his characters, he was groveling and bewildered. This strange Russian humility could well be Christian at the same time, but Hoffmann asserts that this humility exists in every Russian. Deep in the soul, even in the soul of non-Christian Russians.He also said that Westerners can never fully understand this kind of humility, because Westerners regard self-esteem as a virtue and cannot understand such words, "Why are they rejecting me? I don't force it, but humbly ask wow." We may have the illusion that the author of this collection of letters, who only writes letters as a last resort, always seems hopeless... No, no mistake: every time a large remittance arrives, there is nothing wrong with it. He was about to be swallowed up by debt, so that he wrote on his fifty-year-old: "I have worked hard for money all my life, and I have been poor all my life; now it is more than ever." Generosity and unrestrained giving caused his companion Liessen Kampf at the age of twenty to comment: "Dostoevsky is such a person, he makes all those around him live well. , but he himself has been hard-pressed all his life."

Dostoyevsky wrote at the age of fifty: "This future novel (referring to "The Brothers Karamazov", which was not written until nine years later) has made me restless for more than three years, but I have not yet written it. Because I really want to write this novel in a leisurely way, like Tolstoy, Turgenev, Goncharov. I want at least one book to be written in a leisurely manner, without time constraints." But it was in vain for him to say, "I don't understand that you can rush things for money."The problem of money has always interfered with his writing, and he is always afraid that he will not be able to deliver the manuscript on time: "I am afraid that I will not be ready, and I will be delayed. I don't want to mess things up because of haste. Indeed, the creative plan is very thoughtful and carefully studied. , but you can't mess everything up because of too hasty."

To that end he overworks, terribly, and takes his credit for keeping the hard promises.He would rather wear himself out than hand over a flawed work, and in his later years he could say with peace of mind: "Throughout my whole literary career, I have always kept my word, and I have never failed to count. Besides, I have never written solely for the sake of Earn money and disregard contract." In the same letter earlier he also said: "I never conceived of a theme as being for money, to meet writing obligations by a fixed date. I always waited until the theme was conceived , only after contracting and pre-selling the book manuscript, and this topic is what I really want to write, and I think it is necessary to write." So much so that in a letter he wrote when he was twenty-four years old, he exclaimed: "No matter what How about it, I swear: even if I fall to the wall, I will persist and never write by order. Orders are unbearable, and appointments always get nothing. I ask myself that every work is excellent." We don't have to think carefully It can be said that he has fulfilled his promise after all. All his life Dostoevsky was painfully convinced that he would be able to express his thoughts better if he had had more time and more freedom: "It bothers me very much that if I start writing a year earlier It must be very different to write a novel and then spend two or three months transcribing and revising it. I can guarantee it.” Perhaps fantasy?Who can tell the truth?If you have more free time, can you get what you want?What else is he after?Probably more concise, and the connection of details is more perfect... But taking his best works as an example, almost every part is concise and clear, and it is hard to imagine a higher level. How much effort is required to reach such a level! "Only the inspiration part came all at once, and the rest of the homework was very difficult." His brother probably blamed him for not writing concisely, implying, not fast enough, and not "letting inspiration run wild." Dostoevsky at the time Still young, but retorted: "Obviously, you confuse inspiration with labor. Inspiration is the first moment of creation or mental activity (which often happens). For example, when a scene appears in my mind, I immediately record it, I am very happy. Afterwards, it will take months, a year of fine work, and the result will be better and better, obviously. I hope that inspiration will come. Of course, without inspiration, nothing can be done." I quoted so many words , should I apologize, or should I be grateful that I prefer to let Dostoevsky speak as much as possible? "At first, that is to say, at the end of last year (this letter was written in October 1870), I thought this manuscript (referring to) was well thought out and well laid out, and I was very pleased to see it. Later, the real inspiration came Suddenly, I really liked this work, devoted myself wholeheartedly, and immediately crossed out what I had written." He also wrote at that time: "I kept tearing and changing all year round...my plan was changed at least ten times. Once, the first part was completely rewritten. For two or three months, I was angry and desperate. But in the end, all rivers returned to the sea, perfected, and could not be changed.” This pursuit of perfection haunted him from beginning to end: “If I Having the time to write at your leisure, without deadlines, can produce good things." This kind of anxiety, this kind of self-blame, he has experienced every time he writes a book: "The novel () was very long, in six parts. At the end of November, a large section was written and everything was ready, but I burned it all. Now I admit that I was very dissatisfied at the time, because a new form, a new plan oiled Then I started again. I worked day and night, but progress was slow." Elsewhere, he wrote: "I wrote, but I kept tearing it up, and nothing was written. I was so discouraged." Elsewhere: " I'm overworked, I'm stupid, I feel dizzy." Elsewhere, he writes: "Here (Staria Rosa) I toil like a convict, even in fine weather They gave up their enjoyment and wrote at their desks day and night.” Sometimes even a simple article takes as much effort as writing a book, because his meticulousness is equally intact in dealing with small matters as well as large ones: "I've put off this article (reminiscences of Belinsky, I can't find it anymore) until now, and it was done through gritting teeth... A ten-page novel is much easier to write than a two-page article! Count it , I wrote this damn thing at least five times, then crossed it all out, changed my mind and rewrote it. Finally got it done, but it was so crappy it made me sick." If he was convinced of the value of his ideas Undoubtedly, he is always demanding and dissatisfied with his best works: "I have seldom had anything fresher, more complete, more original than it (The Brothers Karamazov). I say this without fear of being accused of pride, for I am speaking of themes, ideas that have taken root in my head , rather than implementation, which depends on God; when I put my ideas into practice, I may screw up, which often happens to me. . . ” "No matter how bad or bad what I write," he wrote elsewhere, "the idea of ​​a novel, and the labor I have put into it, are the most precious things in the world to me, a puny writer." "I'm so dissatisfied with my novel that I'm disgusted," he wrote when he wrote The Idiot. "I'm trying to force myself to work, but I can't do it. I don't have the guts. For now, the third part is the last one." Work hard. If the novel can be arranged well, the vitality will be restored, otherwise I will be finished." Not only did he write the three novels that Mr. de Vaugue called Toshi's masterpiece, but he also published "Underground Wit", "Idiot" and "Eternal Husband". Exclaimed: "It's finally time to write serious stuff." In the year of his death, when he first wrote to Miss N, he still said: "I know that I have many shortcomings as a writer, because I am the first to be dissatisfied with myself. You can imagine me in some moments of self-reflection. , it is often painful to find that I can't express even one-twentieth of what I want to write, maybe not at all. What completes me is my unswerving hope. I hope God will give me strength and inspiration someday , let me express it more perfectly, in short, let me express everything that is hidden in my heart and imagination.” How far this is compared with Balzac's self-confidence and generosity to his own shortcomings! (Even Flaubert,) Was he so vitriolic to himself?Has there ever been such a tough competition?Was there ever such a crazy overwork?I don't think so.His demanding is mainly manifested in literature.If the account of his toils predominates in his letters, it is also because he enjoys them, and is at least proud of them, if not boastfully; , thinking that life is like "a hideous thing, the only way to bear it is to shy away from it", and he compares himself to "a horsewoman who hurt her breast with a bow in order to shoot an arrow".But in real life, he takes everything to heart, he has a wife and children, and he loves them.He did not despise life at all, and when he came out of the convict prison, he wrote: "At least I have experienced it; I have suffered, but I have survived." The selfless spirit of art made him less arrogant, less calculating, less Premeditated, thus more tragic and more beautiful.He is fond of quoting Terrence: "Man has no right to abstain from duty and to ignore what happens in the world, for which there are good moral grounds from ancient times: Hamo Sum, et nihil humanum, etc., etc." He did not hide from himself. pain, but bear it in its entirety.Losing his first wife and then his brother Mikhail just a few months apart, he wrote: "I was suddenly alone and I was terrified. Terrible indeed! My life was broken in two: one half was All the things I have experienced, the other half is the unknown world where no one can replace the two dead. If I pick words, I have lost the basis of life. Establishing new connections? Creating new lives? It is scary to think about it. For the first time I felt that nothing could replace them, that I loved them only in this world. A new kind of love not only would not exist, but should not exist.” But two weeks later he wrote: “I There is something disordered, something vague, something close to despair remaining in the reserve of strength and energy in the soul. For me, being upset and worried is the most abnormal state of mind... Plus I'm alone! . . . and yet I always feel ready to live. Ridiculous, isn't it? Cat's life force!" He was forty-four years old and renewed within a year. When he was sent to the preparatory prison for distribution to Siberia at the age of twenty-four, he couldn't help saying: "I now see that I have a very strong vitality stored in me, and it is difficult to use it up." In 1856, he was released from prison after serving his sentence. , newly married widow Marie Dmitrievna Isaeva, wrote from Siberia: "Now it is not the same as before, I work thoughtfully, with great energy and vitality... I am full of energy and courage I have worked hard for six years and suffered all kinds of hardships, but in the end I can’t earn enough money to support myself and my wife. Is it possible? No! What’s more, no one recognizes my ability, value and talent at all grade, but I have high hopes for my abilities and talents!" Alas, he didn't just struggle with poverty! "When I work I am almost always restless and anxious; Once I had an attack, I couldn't calm down for four days." Dostoevsky never concealed his illness, and the "damn sickness" was so frequent that even several indifferent friends sometimes saw him fall ill.Strakhov, who recounted such episodes in his Memoirs, knew no better than Dostoyevsky that epilepsy can be humiliating and even induce a certain psychic or intellectual "inferiority" which leads to It is extremely difficult to work.Dostoevsky did not even shy away from writing to a stranger for the first time. When he apologized for keeping the other party waiting for a reply, he said innocently and frankly: "I have just suffered from epilepsy three times, and the seizures are so violent. It has never happened so often. I was unable to work, write, or even read for two or three days after the onset, because I was too exhausted to support myself. Now that you know why, please forgive me for taking so long to reply to you. " The disease was acquired before he was exiled to Siberia, and it worsened when he was in a convict prison. At first it eased during his stay abroad, and then it became more serious.Sometimes the interval between attacks is lengthened, but the intensity is increased. "I would feel extremely depressed and lingering melancholy when I had a sudden attack during the infrequent illnesses. Before the onset, this mood lasted for three days, but now it lasts for seven or eight days." This letter was written at the age of fifty. Despite frequent illnesses, he still tried his best to hold on to his work, and was forced to go all out because of his commitment: "The "Russian Bulletin" has already announced that the April issue will publish the sequel to "Idiot". Beyond one chapter, there is nothing ready-made. What should I send? My mind is full! The day before yesterday, I fell ill and became violent, but yesterday I was still writing, in a state of almost madness." The mere discomfort and pain caused by this is enough, and what is worse: "Oh, what a pity! I find to my chagrin that I can no longer work as fast as I used to or recently." He regretted many times his memory and The imagination was waning, and at the age of fifty-eight, two years before his death, he said: "I have long found that the older I get, the more difficult the work is. So some thoughts, namely, depression, are always difficult to relieve." Yet he writes "The Brothers Karamazov". When Baudelaire's letter was published last year, Mr. Mendès made a fuss, expressed indignation, not without exaggeration, at the "moral shame" of the artist, and so on.When I was reading Dostoyevsky's letters, I thought of a quote from Christ recently discovered, which is wonderful: "When you go again naked and not ashamed of it, then you will enter the heaven of God." There will probably always be some picky literati, in order to maintain their superficial decency, they would rather only see the busts of great men standing tall, and suppress private letters and secret papers.They seem to have nothing but admiration for such writing, as mediocrity delights in discovering that heroes have the same flaws as themselves.What they say is inappropriate, when they use the romantic tone, they say that "digging graves" is at least "unhealthy curiosity".They said: "Leave the author alone, only the work is the most important!" Yes!But in my opinion, the great thing is that despite this, the work was written, which after all has inexhaustible lessons. Since I do not write a biography of Dostoevsky, but only outline the character, and only use the material provided by his letter collection, I only talk about his physical handicap, and I think I can add the constant poverty, This poverty that accompanied him seemed to be what his nature secretly prayed for... Everything was against him: when he was a fledgling, he was considered fit for military service despite his childhood illness, while his brother Mikhail Strong and strong, but retired.He was arrested for joining a group of suspicious elements by mistake, was sentenced to death at first, then was pardoned, and was exiled to Siberia to serve his sentence.He stayed there for ten years: four years in a convict prison, six years as a soldier in Semipalatinsk.Possibly no serious love has been found there, in the ordinary sense of the word, "Ah! my friend! She loves me very much, and I love her. But we are not happy together. We will talk about it when we meet." Let me tell you. In short, we were together, but unhappy. She was eccentric, worried, and eccentric. But we continued to love each other. Even, the more unhappy we were, the more we depended on each other. It seems Bizarre, yet so it is." (Quoted from a posthumous letter to Franzier) But, out of passionate kindness, out of pity, out of tenderness (a need for faithful effort), out of bearing Everything and the natural tendency not to evade when things happen, he married the widow of the convict Isaev, and together with a big idle child, he has been in charge of it ever since. "If you ask me about myself, what can I say? I have taken on the family's troubles and dragged the whole family down. But I think my life is not over, and I don't want to die yet." His brother Mikhail After death, his family is also borne by him.It also bears the burden of the newspapers and magazines he founded, supported, and led, "in order to defend the ideas he thought were his own" (de Voguey).Besides, once you have some spare money, you spend it for fun. "Strong measures had to be taken. I began to publish in three print formats at the same time, no money, no health, no effort, all by myself. I read through the proofs; I contacted the authors and got through the censors; I corrected the article; I raised funds ; I stood until six in the morning and slept only five hours. By the time I got the magazines in order, it was too late." It is true that the magazines did not escape bankruptcy.He added: "The worst part is that, despite all my hard work, I was not able to write articles for the magazine myself, without a single line of mine being published. My name was invisible to the general public, not only in the provinces, but also in Petersburg. Didn't know I was leading the magazine." Irrelevant in general!Dostoevsky pulled himself together, worked hard, regrouped, never discouraged, never depressed.Until the last year of his life, he continued to forge ahead, even if he would offend public opinion if he didn't count, although he had conquered it absolutely, he would at least resist the criticism of the press: "For what I said in Moscow ("Talking about Pushkin"), You see how our press treats me, almost everywhere likens me to stealing or defrauding a bank, and not even Ukhantsev (a well-known fraudster at that time) received so much abuse as I did." He did so not for reward, nor out of writer's pride or vanity.Nothing is more significant than his initial attitude towards blockbuster achievement."People have created a dubious reputation for me and I don't know how long this will last," he wrote. He is so convinced of the value of his own thoughts that he confuses his own value and pours himself into it.He wrote to his friend, the Viscount Frangeer: "What have I done for you to make you love me so much?" When he wrote back to a strange woman in his later years, he said: "You really believe that I belong to the freed soul. Man, saver of souls, man of pain! Many people have written to me saying so, but I am sure I am better at enlightening people, evoking disgust in people. I am not good at soothing, although sometimes feel duty-bound." This compassionate heart What deep tenderness is hidden in her soul!From Siberia he wrote to his brother: "I dream of you every night, and my heart beats. I don't want you to die, I want to see you, to embrace you alive again, dear brother. For Christ's sake, don't let me Concern. If you are well, drop all business, forget all troubles, and write to me at once, or I shall go mad." He at least finds some kind of solace in it?During the four years of hard labor, Dostoevsky had no news from his family.On February 22, 1854, ten days before his release, he wrote his first letter from Siberia to his brother. This is what we know. It is a pity that this wonderful letter was not included in Piensto. A collection compiled by Mr. Ke: "I can finally talk to you in more detail, and it's safer, I think... But first, let me ask you, for God's sake, why you haven't sent a single word. To me? Never thought wow! In prison, in solitude, how many times have I thought bitterly that you may not be alive, and sometimes spend nights worrying about your children's situation, and I curse fate that I can't help them ...Have you been forbidden to write to me? No, writing is allowed, all political prisoners receive several letters every year...I think the real reason for your silence is nothing more than your natural indifference..." On March 23, 1856, Dostoevsky wrote from Semipalatinsk to Frangel: "Write to me in detail as soon as possible and tell me what you think of my brother. What does he think of me? He loved me so much before, and wept bitterly when he said goodbye to me. Has he become indifferent to me now? Has his character changed? If so, it would be so sad!  … Has he forgotten everything about it? It’s unbelievable! But how do you explain why he hasn’t heard from him for seven or eight months?…Besides, I know he’s born with a lack of enthusiasm. To convey to him what my brother said when I begged his care, 'It would be better for him to stay in Siberia.'" Dostoevsky did write that, but he only wished to forget.The gracious letter to Mikhail quoted above was written before this one.Shortly thereafter, he wrote again to Frangeer: "Tell my brother, I embrace him tightly, and ask him to forgive me for all the pain I have caused him, and to him I kneel!" August 20, 1858 One day he finally wrote to the brother himself (not collected by Pijenstock): "Dear friend, in my letter last October I made the same complaint about you (about your silence) and you wrote back , read these complaints you feel very embarrassed, very heavy. Oh, Misha! For God's sake, don't blame me, think how lonely I am, like a pile of abandoned stones. My temper has always been blue, Bizarre, irritable, think of it all. Forgive me if my complaints are unjust, if my suspicions are absurd. I am sure I am wrong." Presumably Hoffman is right that Western readers cannot bear such humble confessions.Our literature is too Spanish to teach us how to be noble in not forgetting insults! ... Dostoyevsky wrote before leaving Siberia: “You write that everyone loves the Tsar, yes, I simply adore him.” How do “Western readers” feel about this?Is it sarcasm?no.He repeated in letter after letter: "The emperor is extremely merciful and magnanimous." After ten years of exile, he asked to return to Petersburg for himself, and for his stepson Paul to enter the sports school, referring to the two simultaneous requests At that time, he wrote: "I have considered again and again, if the emperor refuses one of my requests, maybe he will not refuse me another one; if he does not allow me to live in Petersburg, he may agree to admit Paul to school, so as not to completely reject my request." ask." It is indeed perplexing to be so servile.Nihilists, anarchists, and socialists don't even bother to use it.Why is there no sound of resistance?If not against the Tsar: perhaps it is prudent to respect it, at least against society, against the prison that made him old?Listen to what he himself said: "What happened to my soul, my faith, my spirit, and my emotions, it's a long story, please forgive me. Constant meditation makes me escape the miserable reality , it will be beneficial. Now I have pursuits and hopes that I could not foresee before." (Letter to Mikhail, February 22, 1854) In other letters, he also said: "Please Don't think I'm still as sentimental and suspicious as I was in the last years of Petersburg. It's not what it used to be, it's all over. And God guides us." Much later, to S. D. Janovs in 1872 Key's letter reveals the following uncommonly true words: "You loved me, took care of me, and took care of me as a mentally ill person before I went to Siberia, and now I admit it, because I was cured in Siberia ” (The variant characters are in Dostoevsky’s original letter.) In this way, there is no protest, but gratitude to Dade!It was as if the hand of heaven was crushing Job, but there was not a word of blasphemy in his heart... This martyr is really disappointing.What faith does he live for?What beliefs supported him?Examining his views, at least those expressed in this collection of letters, we may perhaps discover the secret, that we have already begun to vaguely understand the reasons for Dostoevsky's unpopularity, Unfavorable love, and the purgatory that remains in it before enjoying the blessings of heaven.