I fell "in love" with Russian writers when I was a teenager - not really love, so much, but just transported. Dostoyevsky, mostly. My sister Lydia actually did fall in love with Prince Mischkin (sp? the only time I give up on spelling is on proper names, otherwise I either use the dictionary to spell a word right or find another word I can spell). She named a very handsome grey and white male tabby cat "Mischkin." My own nature is much darker, and my favorite book by Dostoyevsky was "The Brothers Karamazov." Chekhov I liked OK, Tolstoy a little more. I can't remember the other writers, but I much preferred short stories, Lermontov? Who wrote the book about buying souls? And the famous short story about a duel? And a short story named after a card? I am sure you will remember, so please forgive my aging memory.
I think it was because the alternataive was to read stuff like Hemingway, whom I never liked, except for his short stories. Macho, chest-beating stuff, or stuff like Faulkner, extraordinarily well-written, but about such disgusting things. Old women keeping their dead lovers in their beds, and nasty men raping women with corn cobs. Yuck. The worst thing that ever happened in a Dostoyevsky novel was the murder of an old woman, which was gruesome, but not dwelled on.
Or J.D. Salinger, who is a good writer, but just so cute, and superficial.
Dostoyevsky wrote from the inside, not from the outside. I much prefer people's insides. |
