Chapter 6 first lecture

Sometime before the war, I was going to write a "Life of Dostoevsky" for the "Handbook of Charles Béguet", modeled on Romain Rolland's wonderful monographs "Life of Beethoven" and "Life of Michelangelo". pass".The war came, and I had to put aside my notes on the subject.For a long time I cared and looked at other things, and almost abandoned my original plans, until recently, for the centenary of Dostoevsky's birth, Jacques Copper asked me to hold a show at the Old Dovecote Theater I spoke at the commemorative meeting, and I just found out a book of notes.After re-reading after such a long time, it seems that the recorded thoughts are worth remembering.But in terms of narration, the chronological order required by the biography may not be the best.Dostoyevsky weaves these ideas together like thick braids in every important book, often agonizing over the constant pruning, but from book to book we find them afresh. get.It is these thoughts throughout that are important to me, and I regard them as my own.If I narrate book after book, I will inevitably repeat and repeat, and it is better to use other methods; if I follow the map, I will have to do everything possible to extract these ideas from each book, understand them first, and then I will tell you. Narrative, clearing up obvious ambiguities as much as possible.The mind of a psychologist, the mind of a sociologist, the mind of a moralist, Dostoevsky is both, but first and foremost he is a novelist.It is these thoughts that will be the subject of our conversation.In Dostoevsky, however, ideas are never expressed nakedly, but are always expressed through a variety of characters, thus justifying their hybridity and relativity.Furthermore, since I also want to avoid abstraction and make Dostoyevsky's thoughts stand out as much as possible, I plan to introduce Dostoevsky to you first, and talk about several events in his life that reveal his personality. You can see his style.

I planned to add an introduction to the biography of Tuoshi I prepared before the war. I wanted to discuss the common people's views on great men.In order to clarify the point, I wanted to compare Dostoevsky with Rousseau. This comparison will not be arbitrary, because there are indeed great similarities in their natures. Evsky had a special influence.But I think Rousseau was poisoned by Plutarch from an early age.Rousseau was influenced by it, thinking that great men are a bit exaggerated and pushy.So he erected before himself the statue of the imaginary hero, and imitated it all his life.He strives to be what he looks like.I agree that the image he creates for himself is sincere, but he is also arrogant considering his form.La Bruyère said it well:

"False greatness is aggressive, unattainable, because of a guilty conscience, it is hidden, at least not in public, only when it is necessary to make people respect, but never reveal its truth, I want to say, The truth is that it's downright small." If I am not alluding to Rousseau when I quote this passage, I am thinking of Dostoevsky when I read the following passage: "True greatness is informal, kind, and easy to understand. It is easy to touch and move. It is not afraid of others to look closely. The more familiar you are, the more you like it. Bowing to your subordinates, and then recovering naturally The original state, sometimes let it go, unkempt, don't care about your own strengths, but you can use your strengths at any time..."

Indeed, Dostoevsky never put on airs, never put on a show.He never thought of himself as a superman; there is no human being more in keeping with humility.I don't even think that a proud person can understand him. The word "humility" keeps appearing in his "Letter Collection" and even in his works: Why would he reject me?What's more, I didn't force it, but asked humbly. (See letter dated November 23, 1869) I don't force it, I just ask humbly. (See letter of December 7, 1869) I make the most humble request. (See letter dated February 12, 1870) "I've often been amazed by a certain humility in him," the protagonist of "The Boy" says of his father, who, as he tries to understand the possible relationship between father and mother, and the nature of their love, remembers a line from his father Words: "She married me out of humility." ("Youth" page 3)

Recently, I read Henri Bordeaux's answer to a reporter's question, and I was quite surprised by a sentence in it. He said: "First of all, you should try to know yourself." This interview is simply inexplicable.It is true that the literary man in search of himself runs great risks.He took the risk of finding himself, and from then on he wrote only cold writing, unswervingly in line with himself.He imitates himself.The reason why he is familiar with his own outline and his own boundaries is because he dare not take a step beyond the threshold.He no longer fears insincerity, but fears inconsistency.But a real artist is always half awake and half confused about his own consciousness when he creates.Such an artist does not quite know who he is, and knows himself only through his work, using his work to complete his work... Dostoevsky never found himself, he devoted himself desperately to each character in the book, So he can be found in every character.We will find in a moment that he is very clumsy when speaking in his own name; on the contrary, when his thoughts are expressed through his characters, they are very eloquent.He is at his best when he breathes his own life into the characters in the book.Every character has his existence, and this kind of selfless devotion to various characters first has the effect of protecting him from contradictions.

I don't know any writer who is more contradictory and inconsistent than Dostoyevsky. In Nietzsche's words, this is called the "opposition" of front and back.If he had been a philosopher instead of a novelist, he would have tried to put his thoughts in order, but the essence would have been lost. The events of Dostoevsky's life, no matter how tragic, are superficial events.The passion that overwhelmed him seemed to disturb him deeply, but there was a region deeper still that was not touched by events or even by passion.On this point, there is a short passage that will enlighten us, if we compare it with another text.In Notes from the House of the Dead, he wrote:

"There is no one who does not have some purpose in life and does not strive towards it. Anxiety often turns a man into a ghost, when purpose and hope are gone..." At that time, he didn't seem to know much about this purpose, because he immediately added: "The purpose of all of us is to be free and to get out of the prison." ("Dead House Notes" page 303) Written in 1861, this statement is his understanding of the meaning of purpose at that time.It is true that he was in prison and suffered a lot. He spent four years in Siberia and six years in hard labour.Once free, however, he realizes that the real purpose, the freedom he really wants, is something deeper than being released from prison.I am happy to compare the quips he wrote in 1877 with those just quoted:

"You should not waste your life for any purpose." (Letters, p. 449) Thus, according to Dostoyevsky, we have a sublime and secret basis for living, often also hidden from ourselves, quite different from the apparent purpose most of us set for our lives. Let us first imagine the man F. M. Dostoevsky.His friend Liessen Kampf described his appearance at the age of twenty in 1841 as follows: "The face is round and full, with a slightly turned-up nose, hazel hair, cropped short. A large forehead, with small gray eyes set deep under sparse eyebrows. Pale, freckled cheeks. Complexion Sick, almost dusty, with high lips."

From time to time, it was heard that he suffered from epilepsy in Siberia, but he was already ill before he was sentenced, and it was only worse there. "The complexion is sickly," yes, Dostoevsky was always in poor health.But he, sick and feeble, was sent for military service, while his brother, who was as strong as a bull, was exempted from it. In 1841, at the age of twenty, he was commissioned as a non-commissioned officer, preparing to pass the examination and receive the rank of corporal in 1843.We know that his salary is three thousand rubles.Although he received an inheritance after his father died, he lived a very permissive life, and he had to support his younger brother, so he was constantly in debt.The question of money recurs on every page of the epistle, much more urgently than Balzac encountered, and always plays an extremely important role until his later years.Only in his last years did he really come out of the woods.

Dostoevsky was a spendthrift at first, often going to theaters, concerts, and ballet halls, living a carefree life.He would rush to rent an apartment just because the landlord looked like he liked it.Employing someone to steal him, but he thinks it's fun, let it go.According to good luck or bad luck, his temper will change suddenly and capriciously.Because he couldn't take care of himself, his family and friends hoped that he would live with his good friend Liessen Kampf, and said to him: "Learn from Liessen Kampf, a good example of the Germans who are orderly." Riesenkampf, who was a few years older than Fyodor Mikhailovich, was a doctor.In 1843, he came to settle in Petersburg.At that time, Dostoevsky was penniless, and he even paid for milk and bread on credit.We read in a letter from Riesenkampf: "Fyodor belongs to a class of people with whom life is easy, but they are always in poverty." So they moved to lived together, but Dostoevsky was an unbearable companion.Liessenkampf made patients wait in the waiting room, but he went to see them.Whenever he feels sorry for a patient, he helps out with Riesenkampf's money, or his own money if he has money.One day, Dostoevsky received a thousand rubles from Moscow, which he immediately used to pay off his debts, and then gambled the rest that night (I heard he played billiards).The next morning he had to borrow five rubles from a friend.I forgot to mention that Dostoevsky, on the spur of the moment, led Riesenkampf's patient into his room, who stole his last remaining fifty rubles.Liessenkampf and Fyodor Mikhailovich parted in March 1884, and the latter did not seem to get much better.

Dostoevsky published The Poor in 1846.The book was an instant success and a sensation.The way he talks about this success is instructive.We read from one of his letters at the time: "I was completely dizzy, I didn't know why, and I didn't have time to think. I have created a reputation that may not be good for me. I don't know how long this torture will last." ("Collected Letters" page 94) I mention only the most important events, skipping the publication of several minor works. In 1849 he was arrested by the police along with a group of suspicious elements, the so-called Petrashevsky conspiracy. It is difficult to say exactly what political and social views Dostoevsky held at the time.From his frequent association with suspicious elements, we should presumably see from it a strong intellectual curiosity and a certain kindness that prompted him to take reckless risks, but there is nothing to convince us that Dostoevsky was ever the so-called innocent. Governmentalists, the so-called dangerous elements that threaten national security. Many passages in the Letters and the Writer's Diary show us the exact opposite, and the whole book presents itself to us as an indictment of anarchism.In any case, he was arrested along with the suspicious elements gathered around Petrashevsky.He was imprisoned, tried and heard the death sentence pronounced.The sentence was commuted only at the last moment and exiled to Siberia.You all know all this.I want to cover only things in the Lecture Series that you won't find anywhere else, but for those of you who don't know, I'll also read a few passages from his letter about convictions and prison life, which I find very telling question.Through his portrayal of his anxieties, we shall find the constant reappearance of the optimism that underpinned him throughout his life.Here is what he wrote from the fortress prison on July 18, 1849, while he was awaiting trial: "Huge endurance and vitality are stored in people. Really, I didn't expect it to be so huge before. Now I have experienced it personally." Then in August, despite his illness, he wrote: "Discouragement is a sin... Working hard, CON AMOUR, is true happiness." In September 1849 he also wrote: "I expected it to be much worse, but now it is clear that there is a great deal of vitality in me, which is hard to exhaust." ("Letter Collection" p. 101) On December 22nd he wrote a note, which I may as well read almost in full: "Today, December 22, the jailer brought us to Samionovsky Square, where the death sentence was read to us all, we were made to kiss the cross, and the sword was broken over our heads, Do the final dressing for us: put on the white prayer robes. Then tie us in groups of three to the execution posts. I'm in the sixth and they call three at a time, so I'm in the second batch and only have a few minutes to go Alive. I suddenly thought of you, brother, and your whole family. In the last moments, you were the only thing I could think of! I realized how much I love you, dear brother! I still had time to kiss Pu Lecheev and Durov, and bid them farewell. At last the bugle of return to camp was sounded, the men tied to the execution posts were withdrawn, and the edict of His Majesty the Emperor pardoning our deaths was read to us." We will find many times that Dostoevsky's novels allude directly or indirectly to the death penalty and the final moments of the condemned.In this regard, I won't say much, and I will stop here. Before setting off for Semipalatinsk, he was given half an hour to say goodbye to his brother.According to a friend, he was the calmest of the two brothers. He said to his younger brother: "My friend, the people in prison are not beasts, they are people, maybe better than me, maybe better than me... Yes, we will meet again, I hope so, no doubt. Just write to me Letter, send me books, I will write to you soon to tell you which books, there must be people to read." ("Collected Letters" page 101) The reporter interjected that this was a well-intentioned lie to comfort the brother. "As soon as I come out, I will start writing. I have seen a lot of the world in the past few months. From now on, I will see such a big world and experience such a storm! There will be plenty of materials for writing in the future! " During the first four years in Siberia, Dostoevsky was unable to write to his family, at least we have no Letters from that period, and Ores Müller's 1883 The Documentation does not mention any of the letters at all, yet many of Dostoevsky's letters have been published since the publication of the Documentation, and presumably others will eventually appear. According to Müller, Dostoevsky was released from prison on March 2, 1854, but according to official documents, it was January 23. The archives mention that F. M. Dostoevsky wrote nineteen letters to brothers, relatives and friends from March 16, 1854 to September 11, 1856 , that was the years when he overcame his military service in Semipalatins after serving his sentence.Mr. Pijenstock translated only twelve letters, and I do not see why the excellent letter of February 22, 1854, serialized in The Current, 1886, was not adopted. Issues 12 and 13 are now out of print, but were reprinted in the New France Review on February 1 of this year.Just because this letter has not been accepted in the "Letter Collection", please allow me to read a few more paragraphs for you: "I can finally have a long talk with you and feel safer. First, let me ask you in the name of God why you didn't write me a line? I can't believe it. How many times, in prison, in solitude , I am really despairing, thinking that you may be dead, thinking all night about the fate of your children, cursing my own fate for not being able to help them." In this way, what he feels most painful may not be that he feels abandoned, but that he feels that he cannot help others. "How can I explain to you what's going on in my head? It's impossible for you to understand my life, the beliefs I've established, and what I've been doing all this time. I don't like doing things halfway. : Telling half of the truth is equivalent to saying nothing. Now at least choose the main ones. If you are good at understanding, you can understand the whole picture. I owe this article a debt, so let’s start from the beginning. "You must remember how we parted, my dear, my friend, my best friend, and as soon as you left me, they took all three of us, Durov, Yatzzynbsky and me, to Dai It was the middle of the night and it was the climax of Christmas. It was at such a time that I was handcuffed for the first time. It weighed ten pounds and it was very difficult to walk. Then we were pushed onto the open sleigh, each of us by A policeman escorted a total of four sledges, and the deportation leader himself took one alone, and so we left Petersburg. "I was so sad, my thoughts were racing, and I was so sad. I felt like I was sucked into a whirlpool, downcast, and sad. But the fresh air cheered me up. As always, whenever my life turned a corner, the strong The impression itself emboldened me, and in a short time I regained my composure. I raised my head and watched with interest the Petersburg we were passing through. Houses were lit up for the holiday, and I said goodbye to each house . We passed your house. Krolevsky's house was brightly lit. There I was suddenly overwhelmed with grief. You told me there would be a Christmas tree, and Emilia Fyodorovna would take the children there. I felt like I was saying goodbye to them. How I missed them! Years later, I still have tears in my eyes when I think of them. "We headed for Yaroslavl, made three or four stops, arrived at Shuluselberg at dawn, and stopped at a log cabin inn. We rushed to refreshment as if we hadn't eaten in a week. Eight months of prison and The journey of sixty versts whetted our appetites, and I am still glad to think about it, I was in a jovial mood. Durov babbled, but Yatzzynbsky saw the future in a dark cloud. We tried to send Captain.He is a kind old man with a lot of experience.He has delivered couriers across Europe.He has treated us with kindness and kindness beyond imagination.He has been precious to us along the way.His name is Kus Ma Prokoritch. He was kind enough to get us covered sledges, and we were moved because the cold was getting bitterer. "The next day was a festival. The Yamschechki had already put on their amiyaks of gray Germanic wool, and their scarlet sashes. The streets and alleys of the village were deserted. It was a cold winter day, and the weather was fine. They led Let us pass through the deserted areas under the jurisdiction of Petersburg, such as Novgorod, Yaroslavl, etc. We passed only small towns, sparse and silent, but because of the festival, wherever we went, we ate and drank No worries. Even though we were dressed warmly, we still felt cold and unbearable. "You can hardly imagine how unbearable it must have been to be in a sleigh motionless for ten hours, passing five or six stations a day. I was so cold to the core that I could not warm myself even in a warm room. In the Belm district, we encountered minus forty degrees one night. I advise you not to try this kind of experience, it is not a good taste. "There was an accident in the Ural Pass, a heavy snowstorm covered the horses and sledges. We had to get out of the car, it was late at night, and waited for the horses and the car to be rescued. We were surrounded by snow, storms, European borders; ahead It's Siberia and our lost future; behind it is our whole past. Sad. I'm crying. "During the whole trip, people from all over the village often came to see us, even though we were shackled and the posthouse forced us to pay three times more. Fortunately, Kusma Prokorich covered nearly half of the expenses, He asked for it. So it cost us fifteen rubles each. "On January 11, 1850, we arrived in Tobolsk. After we were handed over to the authorities, we were searched and all the money left was taken. We were three, Durov, Yatsin Bouskey and I were locked in a single room, and Spiecchinar and his friends occupied another room, so it can be said that we did not meet each other. "I would like to tell you in detail about the ten days we spent in Tobolsk and the impressions that are still fresh in our memory. But now is not the time. I will only tell you that enthusiasm and sympathy surrounded us so full that we Happy. The old exiles, or rather their wives, took care of us like kinsmen. What a fine crowd, twenty-five years of suffering have not made them bitter! Besides, we can only glimpse They, because the surveillance is very strict. They send us food and clothes. They persuade us and encourage us. I, when I set off, I had nothing, not even the necessary clothes, and I regretted it along the way... So I welcome them to give We prepare the quilt. "In the end we left. "Three days later, we reached Omsk. "Already in Tobolsk, I heard who were our immediate superiors. The commander of the major is a gentleman, but the commander of the Kryvshov fortress is a rare villain. He is wild, eccentric, aggressive, drunk, In a word, everything that is base and shameless is concentrated in him. "On the day we arrived, he called Durov and me fools on the grounds of the sentence, and swore to punish us physically if he found us out of bounds. For two years he was the commander of the fortress, and he committed the most injustice in spite of the public eye. Then it ran for two years and finally got judged. God got rid of the beast for me! He always comes drunk (I've never seen him any other way) and fights the prisoners for no reason , on the pretext that he's 'drunk and crazy'. Sometimes he goes on night watch because someone is sleeping on his right side, or because someone is talking in his sleep. Anyway, he beats anyone he wants for any reason he can think of. We can't Don't live with a man like that without getting mad at him! This guy reports us every month to St. Peter. "... "So I spent four years inside the Great Wall, and I was released only for hard labor. Hard labor! Sometimes I was exhausted from work, and the weather was bad, soaked in rain and mud, or it was freezing cold. , It was unbearably cold. Once I worked overtime for four consecutive hours, the mercury was frozen, and it was more than forty degrees below zero. One of my feet was frozen. "We all huddled together and shared a barracks. As you can imagine, an old dilapidated house, wooden construction, no longer usable, long overdue for demolition. It was suffocatingly hot in summer and It's so cold that people freeze into ice. "The floor is rotten and filthy, as high as a Vershock. The small windows are covered with greenish grime, and it is difficult to read, even during the day. In winter, the windows are covered with ice as thick as a Vershock." The ceiling is leaking and the walls are cracked. Although we are packed like herrings in barrels, six logs of wood in the stove won't help, there is no heat at all, and it will melt the ice in the room, but the smoke is unpleasant. Gotta die. Been like this all winter. "The convicts wash their clothes in their own room, so there are puddles of water everywhere, making it difficult to settle down. From dark to dawn, they are forbidden to go out without any excuses, so a small wooden bucket is placed at the door of the room, and what You guessed it, it stinks and suffocates all night. But the prisoners say, 'What's the matter, since we're living things, how can we not excrete filth.' "The bed is just two bare boards; only one pillow is allowed. The short overcoat that doesn't cover the feet is just a quilt, and I shiver all night with the cold. There are so many bedbugs, lice, and cockroaches that I can measure it. Our winter clothes are nothing more than Two fur coats, worn out, not warm at all. Walking in Siberia with boots on, let's go! Just march! "We were given only bread and sauerkraut soup. According to regulations, there is a quarter of a catty of meat in each person's soup, but the meat is minced, so I have never seen any meat. During the holidays, we Eat white bread, but hardly any butter; boiled sauerkraut and nothing else during Lent. My stomach is so weak that I have fallen ill many times. Imagine how I could live without money! If I hadn’t money, what will happen to me? The general convicts do not tolerate this diet any more than we do, but one by one they do a little business in the barracks and earn a few kopecks. It saved me by exchanging the meat for some money. Besides, it was hard not to smoke, otherwise I would be suffocated in such an atmosphere, but I had to do it secretly, so that no one could see me. "I've been in the hospital many times with epileptic seizures, but it's true. I have rheumatism in my feet, but other than that, I'm in good health. I've had a lot of trouble, and I've had to suffer from a shortage of books, which I can hardly find. Occasionally I got a book, and I had to read it secretly: the vengeance between the comrades was getting deeper and deeper, the guards were domineering, there were quarrels, insults and shouts, and the noise continued all day long. Quiet for a while, there is no way! This stay is four years, Four years! No lie! It is not enough to say that we feel uncomfortable! We are constantly in constant fear of breaking the rules and discipline, which makes us poor-minded and trembling. You can imagine my life. "As for my soul, my beliefs, my thoughts, and my state of mind, the changes that have taken place in these four years are a long story, and it is difficult to explain it in one word. Let me avoid it. It is not useless for me to escape the miserable reality through firm and consistent meditation. .Now I have desires and hopes. This is something I didn't expect, but it's just a hypothesis. Don't worry about it. I just hope you don't forget me, give me a hand! I need books and money, give me Send some, for God's sake! "Omsk is a small city, almost treeless, hot and sandy in summer, and bitterly cold in winter. I have never seen a country. The city is filthy, full of soldiers, and degenerate (I mean the inhabitants) to the extreme. If I hadn't met a good man, I think I'd be finished. Konstantin Ivonich Ivanor was like a brother to me. He helped me in every possible way. I owe him money. If he went to Petersburg I owe him twenty-five rubles. But how can I repay this sincerity? This kindness to listen to my errands at any time? This care? This care? Brother, there are many noble souls in the world! "I have already told you that your silence makes me restless, but I thank you for sending me the money. Please in the next letter (even through the official mail, because I am not yet sure of giving you another address) , tell me in detail about yourself, Emilia Fyodorovna, children, relatives, friends, our old Moscow acquaintances, who are alive and who are dead. Tell me about your business, now What kind of capital are you running with? Is it going well? Is it profitable? In short, can you finance me? How much can you help me every year? Only send me money by official mail if I can't find another address, no matter what the circumstances Next, all signed Mikhail Petrovich, understand? Fortunately, I have some money, but I have no books. If possible, send me this year's magazine, such as "Fatherland Yearbook". "Above all, I desperately need books by ancient historians (in French translation) and books by new historians, a few books by economists and books by clergy. Find the cheapest and most densely packed Version. Immediately. "... "People would tell me, to cheer me up, those are simple people. But a simple person is far more terrifying than a complicated person. "Besides, people are the same everywhere. When I was with the robbers in the penal labor, I found a man, a real man, a man of character, deep, strong, noble. Gold hidden in the rubbish. Some people Some aspects of temperament are impressive, others are beautiful in all aspects, absolutely. I taught a young Circassian to read, and he was imprisoned for robbery; I even taught him Russian. He Grateful to me. Another convict cried when he said goodbye to me. I gave him money, very little, and he was grateful to me. But my temper became sour, and I was moody with them, or Cold or hot, but they respect my talent and learning, and tolerate me without complaint. How many incredible men I can observe in the convict prison! I have lived their lives once, and I think I understand them. "How many tales of adventurers and robbers have I collected! How many volumes can be written. What extraordinary mortals! I have never studied Russia, but I know its people as well as few others do. Clearly... I guess I'm bragging, but that's understandable, isn't it? "... "Send me the Koran, Kant's, Hegel's works, especially his "History of Philosophy". These books are related to my future. However, the most important thing is to find a way to transfer me to the Caucasus. Ask the well-informed Where can I get my book published, and what should I do. Fortunately, I don’t want to publish anything for two or three years. But in the meantime, please help me survive, I beg you! If I don’t have any money around, I will Died while serving! I'm counting on you! "... "Right now I'm going to write novels and screenplays! But I've got lots and lots of books to read. Don't forget to send me books! "Farewell to you again. Fei Tuo" This letter, like many others, went unanswered.Fyodor Mikhailovich did not hear from his family throughout or nearly the entire period of his captivity.Should it be believed that this was due to his brother's cautiousness, fear of getting involved, or perhaps his cold nature?I can't tell... Mrs. Hoffman, Toshi's biographer, leans towards the latter. Dostoevsky's first letter home after his release and enlistment in the 7th Infantry Battalion of the Siberian Army, as far as we know, dated March 27, 1854, not received in Pijenstock in translation.Let us recall a few paragraphs: "Send me . Linney, Flavius, Plutarch, Theodore. French translations are all required. The Koran and a German dictionary are also required. Of course, all these books do not need to be sent at once, but you should send them as much as possible. , also send Pissaren's "Physics" and a treatise on physiology, whichever French version is better, if it is better than the Russian version. All books must choose the cheapest version. You don't have to send it all at once, slowly , send them one by one. Even if you send a little bit, I will thank you. In short, please understand how much I need these spiritual food..." Later he wrote: "Now you know my chief business. "To tell you the truth, I have nothing to do except to serve in the military and make a living. I don't encounter external events, and my life is calm and trouble-free. However, what happens to the soul, state of mind, thoughts, things that sprout, mature, wither, and discard like weeds I don't say it, I can't say it in a memo. Here, I live alone, as always, in secret. Besides, I was guarded for five years, and sometimes I am the greatest pleasure to be alone. Generally speaking Well, the big wall destroyed a lot of things in me, but it also made a lot of things sprout in me. For example, I once told you about my disease, which is very similar to the strange disease in epileptic seizures. In fact, I have It's not epilepsy, more details later." As for the problem of disease, we will talk about it in the last lecture. Read again the letter of November 6 of the same year: "... I am almost ten months into my new life. As for the other four years, I regard those years as the period when I was buried alive in a coffin. What a terrible period! I have not even the strength to describe it to you, my dear." My friend. It was indescribable pain, endless pain, because my mind was oppressed every hour and every minute. For four years I felt trapped every moment of the day." But when he changed his pen, the immediate optimism prevailed: "I was so busy in the summer that I didn't even have time to sleep. But now, I'm getting used to it. My health has improved a little bit. So, I haven't lost hope and I'm facing the future with a lot of courage." Three letters from this period were published in the April 1898 issue of The Field.Why did Mr. Pijenstork collect only the first of these and discard the letter of August 21, 1855?In the latter letter Dostoevsky refers to a letter from October of the previous year, which has not been found to this day. "I vented to you the same complaint (about other people's silence) in my letter last October, and you wrote back that it was very sad to read my complaint. Dear Misha! For God's sake Don't be surprised! Considering that I am alone, as solitary as a cast aside stone, and that, besides, my temper has always been melancholy, eccentric, and emotional... I was the first to be convinced that I was wrong." Dostoevsky returned to Petersburg on November 29, 1859.At that time, he was already married in Semipalatinsk, married to the widow of a convict, and had an older child. His temperament did not seem to be very good, but Dostoevsky still adopted him and assumed cost.Toshi has a habit of taking on everything. "He has changed little," said his friend Milyukov, "his eyes are bolder than before, and the forceful expression of his face has not lost at all." In 1861 Dostoevsky published "The Bullied and Insulted"; in 1861-1862 he published "Notes from the House of the Dead"; It was not published until 1986. In 1863, 1864, and 1865 he was active in starting a magazine.He has a letter about the intervening years, which is so eloquent that I can't help but read a few passages to you.I think this is the last reference to his letter today.This letter was written on March 31, 1865 ("Letter Collection", translated by Pijenstock, published in "French Mercury"): "... I will tell you about my troubles during this time. It is too long to tell you. It seems that writing letters always miss the point, and some things cannot be fully explained. So I will limit myself to giving you an overview of the recent past. a period of time. "You probably know that my brother started a magazine four years ago. I wrote for the magazine. It started off well. My Notes from the House of the Dead was a huge success and my literary reputation was renewed. When my brother started the publishing house Borrowed many debts. Just when the debt was about to be paid, the May 1863 magazine was suddenly banned for a fiercely patriotic article. Due to a misunderstanding, it was condemned as an anti-government law and anti-public opinion. He was attacked by Fatal blow, deep in debt, failing health. And I was not with him; I was in Moscow, watching over my dying wife. Yes, Alexander Yegorovich, yes, dear friend! You give me Write, sympathize with my great loss, indeed, the death of my brother my angel Mikhail is a great loss to me, but you don't know that the weight of fate weighs on me more than that. Another man who loves me , who I am infinitely attached to, my wife died of consumption in Moscow. She had only settled in Moscow for a year, and I never left her bedside during the whole winter of 1864. "... "Ah, my friend! She loves me very much, and I love her very much; but we are not happy together. We will talk about all this when we meet, and in short, remember that although we are unhappy together , because she was eccentric, worrying, and morbidly capricious, and yet we were always in love, and even, the more unfortunate we were, the more dependent we were on each other. It seemed strange, but it was. She was the sweetest thing I ever met in my life Kindest, noblest and most heart-warming woman. In spite of the pain I felt for a whole year watching her die, and though I cherished and felt that something was buried with her when she died, I still can't imagine my life So empty and sore. It's been a year and it's been the same... "After burying my wife, I went to see my brother in Petersburg. He was alone! Three months later, he too died. He was only sick for a month, and it didn't seem serious, but suddenly the disease relapsed, and he died in three days. He took it, which was a bit unexpected. "So all of a sudden I was alone and scared. It was terrible! My life was broken in two. The past took away the life I fought for, and the future was an unknown kingdom, and no one would replace two The dead. Ordinarily, I lost the basis for living. Establishing new connections? Creating new lives? I don’t even want to think about it. So for the first time, I felt that they were irreplaceable to me, in this world I only love them two, new love will not exist, nor should it arise." The letter was dragged on until April, and on April 14, two weeks after the above-mentioned cry of despair, he went on to write: "In my soul, despite the abundance of reserves of strength and perseverance, there remained something chaotic and empty, something bordering on despair. Distraction, bitterness, the most abnormal state of mind for me... What's more, I'm alone and helpless! "I've lost my friend of forty years. Yet I always feel ready to live. Ridiculous, isn't it? The life force of a cat!" he continued, "Yes, what are all the disasters of the past?" When he had the joy of living again, the crime, the sentence, even the exile in Siberia, seemed to him to be something external, something foreign. He added: "I told you everything, but I found that the most important thing, my spiritual life and spiritual life, was not involved at all, and I didn't even say the general idea." I would like to compare it to a wonderful passage I read from.In the novel Dostoevsky tells us the story of Raskolnikov, who committed a crime and was exiled to Siberia.In the final pages of the book, Dostoyevsky describes the hero as being struck by uncanny emotions and feeling like he is living for the first time. "What are all the pains of the past? At this moment, everything, even his crimes, even his sentence and his exile in Siberia, seem to be external things, foreign things, as if they are not his. It's someone else's business... There was a Gospel under his pillow. He took it out mechanically. This Gospel belonged to Sonia. She used it to read to him before, 'The Resurrection of the Nazarene' '. At the beginning of his imprisonment, he expected that she would torture him with religion, talk to him about the Gospel, and wear him out with it. But much to his surprise, she never talked about it, and never The Gospel was not recommended to him. He asked for it himself from Sonia shortly after her illness, and she brought it to him without saying a word. And he never opened it. He has not opened it now, But a thought flashed through his mind like lightning: "Could it be that her belief has become my own at this moment? At least her emotion, her wish..." "... "Raskolnikov himself did not understand what had happened, but suddenly some force seized him and threw him at Sonia's feet. He wept bitterly and hugged Sonia's knees Suddenly, Sonia was so frightened that her face was deathly pale. After being startled suddenly, she continued to look at him tremblingly. But at the same moment, in a flash, all of her I understood. Her eyes were shining with the light of incomparable happiness, and she understood that she no longer doubted: he loves her, loves her very much, such a moment has finally come... "They spoke to each other, but the words fell to their lips. Their eyes were full of tears. Their faces were pale and tired, but their haggard faces shone with the dawn of new life, the return of life. Love revived their life, They have a heart-to-heart relationship, and they have a deep source of life that is inexhaustible for each other." (Pages 514-515) I quote these words only in order to prove what I said at the beginning of my speech: a major event of external life, however grave, is not as important in Dostoevsky's life as a small one.We need to mention such little things. It was in Siberia, and Dostoevsky met a woman who gave him the Gospel with her own hands.Besides, the Gospels were the only officially permitted reading inside the walls.Reading and contemplating the Gospels was crucial to Dostoevsky.Everything he wrote later was steeped in evangelism.So, every time we speak, we have to reiterate the truth of the gospel that he discovered. I find it very interesting to observe and compare the very different responses of the Gospels to two characters, although in a certain way their responses are very similar, I mean the character of Nietzsche and the character of Dostoeves base character. In Nietzsche, the reaction was direct, profound, and it should be said jealousy.I don't think it is possible to understand Nietzsche's work without taking this emotion into account.Nietzsche was jealous of Christ, mad with jealousy.He wrote "Thus Spoke Zarathustra", wishing to oppose the "Gospels".Often in the form of the Beatitudes, he did the opposite, writing The Antichrist and Behold the Man.In the final work, Behold, the Man, Christ's opponents present themselves as victors, claiming that his teaching has superseded that of Christ. In Dostoevsky the reaction was very different.The first time he came into contact with the Gospels, he felt that there was something superior, not only above him, but over all mankind, something sacred... This humility I mentioned at the beginning, but also To mention it many times will naturally make him submit to the excellence he recognizes.He threw himself at Christ.This adoration, this self-abnegation, had, first and foremost, the effect of uncomplicating his nature, which I have already mentioned.Indeed no artist practiced the teachings of the Gospels better than Doshi: "Whoever tries to save his life must lose it, but he who gives his life (the one who lays down his life) must really make life alive." It is this devotion and self-forgetfulness that brings together the contradictory emotions of Dostoevsky's mind and keeps alive the antagonisms that are so rich in him. In our next discussion we will examine whether the many qualities of Dostoevsky's personality are common to Russians, even though they seem to us in the West to be the strangest, so that we can better identify purely Toshiba's personal characteristics.