I am a literary giant in Russia

Chapter 194 Reunion and Mikhail's New Work
In 1845 Russia, going abroad, especially to Paris, the heart of the revolution, was obviously not an easy task. Fortunately, Mikhail's forces in St. Petersburg were growing stronger—or rather, he was making more and more friends in St. Petersburg—so he managed to obtain a permit to leave the country relatively smoothly.

After arranging and handling affairs in St. Petersburg, Mikhail naturally took his mother, sister, and Turgenev, who had agreed to travel with him, to Paris.

It's worth mentioning that Mikhail's mother, Prikhlya, probably never imagined she would be able to come to a foreign country, so she seemed somewhat apprehensive for a moment. Mikhail's sister, Dunya, on the other hand, was quite calm. After all, this intelligent girl had studied French and was already at a level where she could converse with people.

As for Mikhail, although he was completely unfamiliar with Paris, he was quite happy at the thought of who he would meet next.

On his first day in the city, Mikhail's first priority, besides finding a suitable place to stay, was naturally to withdraw a portion of his royalties.

These days, the mainstream way publishers pay royalties is through bank drafts issued by partner banks. Authors then need to take the drafts to a designated bank for payment. The bank then needs several days to verify the signature and the publisher's credit before the money can actually be withdrawn. This is how yesterday's incident happened.

Meanwhile, while waiting to withdraw the money, Mikhail certainly didn't forget to have a good get-together with his long-lost old friend Belinsky.

At the very beginning, when Mikhail appeared before Belinsky following Turgenev's instructions, the middle-aged man was trembling almost uncontrollably. Once Belinsky was certain that this was not a hallucination, he immediately embraced Mikhail tightly. Perhaps due to his overwhelming excitement, Belinsky couldn't help but kiss Mikhail's cheek during the embrace.

Mikhail was indeed a little taken aback: "."

I feel like I'm a little unclean.
However, after Belinsky calmed down, he seemed to realize that his behavior was somewhat inappropriate. Even so, he still warmly grasped Mikhail's hand and said, "I'm sorry, Mikhail, but only God knows how happy I am to see you again! How long has it been since we last met? More than half a year, hasn't it? It's unbelievable! I've been away from you for so long!"
How are you? How's the magazine? How are my wife and children? How is everyone? I keep thinking about you all while I'm here.

Mikhail, of course, didn't interrupt Belinsky, who seemed to be having an unusually long conversation. He simply looked at Belinsky with equal pleasure, listened attentively to what he had to say, and occasionally offered some responses:
"Of course, I'm doing well, the magazine is doing well, and we have more and more subscribers, almost double the number when you left!"

Your wife and children are doing well. I often visit them, and sometimes I happen to run into Mrs. Panaeva, who also visits often.”

Hearing Mikhail's reply, Belinsky's already quite healthy face flushed with excitement, and after a long while, he continued happily:
“That’s wonderful! Although I’ve seen these things in the letters you sent me, nothing compares to you telling me in person. And my family is best left in your and Mrs. Panaeva’s care! Other gentlemen, they’re not bad people, but they’re always preoccupied with all sorts of things, and it’s terrifying to entrust important matters to them.”

After inquiring about the general situation in Russia, Belinsky naturally couldn't help but discuss Mikhail's creative work. Thinking of this, Belinsky said with a mixture of admiration and satisfaction:
“Mikhail, I’ve seen it in the letters and magazines that others have sent me. You’ve already reached out to those hypocritical and decadent nobles! And your portrayal is by no means one-sided or isolated, but directly targets the spiritual corruption of this group. Our Russia has absolutely no future in the hands of such a group of people!”

I've already written several articles and sent them back; they should arrive soon.

Mikhail: “?”

Although I just finished hedging my risk, oh well, I'm used to it now.
As the two were discussing these matters, Mikhail naturally inquired about Belinsky's condition. Belinsky, with a ruddy complexion, replied with great eagerness, "I almost feel like I'm fully recovered! Mikhail, it's all thanks to the doctor you introduced me to. I feel like I can almost return to Russia immediately."

Since going abroad, I have increasingly felt that I am a true Russian. I had a very difficult time abroad. Whenever I had free time, I would often space out, as if I were a fish out of water. The longer I stayed abroad, the more I realized that I completely belonged there.

Perhaps this is my fate; it's inextricably linked to Russia. So, can I return as soon as possible? I can't wait to begin my work.

"Let me ask your doctor for his opinion."

Hearing Belinsky say this, even though Mikhail knew that was just his personality, Mikhail hesitated for a moment but couldn't help asking, "So Belinsky, if some major events happen in Russia in the future, would you be willing to come and stay abroad for a while?"

“Mikhail, more than one person has talked to me about this issue. I am different from you. You are destined to belong to the whole world. But if I leave my foothold and the work I give my all to, what can I do? I also see very clearly that I cannot bring great benefits to people in Russia as I hope. But doing less is better than doing nothing, isn’t it?”

Mikhail: “.”

I'm genuinely afraid that after all that hard work to cure your illness, you might end up in jail or somewhere else entirely by accident.
After all, when news of the European revolutions of 1848 reached Russia, the social atmosphere was unprecedentedly active. Even in St. Petersburg, leaflets appeared denouncing the Tsar, especially Nicholas I, and praising the insurgents. The leaflets ended with a loud call for revolution.

Even though Belinsky was so ill at that time that he could hardly get out of bed, the Third Department still suspected that Belinsky had drafted the leaflet.

All I can say is that this is called word-of-mouth.

But at this moment, faced with Belinsky's words, Mikhail could only nod with a complicated expression.

Admittedly, going against the government and rulers is never an easy thing. In most cases, it is more common to act like a dog or to resist to a limited extent. But there are always some people who are not afraid of such things, for the sake of some kind of conviction in their hearts.

Although Mikhail was overwhelmed with thoughts and ideas, since it was a long-awaited reunion with Belinsky, he spoke with him for quite some time. As they talked, Belinsky's enthusiasm grew, until finally, unable to contain his inner turmoil, he spoke to Mikhail as if he had made up his mind:
“Mikhail, Turgenev, you know I’m incredibly bored here. I don’t know many people, and I have a hard time communicating with Parisians. So please take some time to play cards with me now! I’d be happy to play with Mikhail for a long time these days.”

Mikhail: "?" You're thinking about playing cards, Belinsky, and what do you mean, "even me"?

Discrimination, is it?

However, this time, Mikhail naturally wanted to make Belinsky happy, so at the end, Belinsky looked at his hands in astonishment and said, "Wow! I never thought I could make Mikhail lose so miserably!"

In short, Belinsky was indeed happy for a long time because of Mikhail's arrival. After successfully withdrawing a large sum of francs from the bank, Mikhail was no longer worried about his upcoming trip. So the next morning, Mikhail prepared to visit the publishers and writers in Paris one by one according to the original plan.

Now that he had arrived in a new place, the first thing he had to do was to pay his respects to the powerful figures in the city. Thanks to the solid foundation that Turgenev had laid for Mikhail in Paris, Mikhail was not starting from scratch.

Mikhail's first stop on this trip was the editorial office of Le Soir, to discuss some issues left over from previous collaborations and perhaps explore future collaborations. Of course, not putting all his eggs in one basket, Mikhail would eventually have to visit other publishers in Paris, both to maximize his profits and to truly establish himself in the city.

So Mikhail quickly put on the clothes he had ordered the day before, picked up his cane, and went out. Although he left very early, a city like Paris was already awake before dawn. Countless ordinary people may have escaped the nightmares in their dreams, but the nightmares in reality are far more terrifying than those in their dreams.

While the city certainly had its glamorous side during this period, in many other places it only had narrow, dark streets, with many areas densely packed with winding alleys only one to five meters wide. In addition to lacking light and ventilation, the houses were dilapidated and densely packed, with one household living in every three square meters in some areas.

The slums are often overcrowded. According to records from 1840, a five-square-meter room on Île de la Cité housed a total of twenty-three people, including adults and children.

Meanwhile, garbage and sewage were discharged directly into open ditches and the Bijevl River, a tributary of the Seine, which often became a dumping ground for tanneries' waste. As a result, cholera broke out twice, in 1832 and 1848, killing five percent of the residents in just one street.

It was precisely because of this environment that countless descriptions of uprisings, street battles, and other related scenes can be found in French literature of this period.

Although reality is far crueler than nightmares, people still choose to live on tenaciously, living with a primal passion. And it is only when countless ordinary people begin to walk through the streets and alleys of Paris that the glory and honor of this city are revealed.

But this glory and honor seemed to have nothing to do with most of them. It was only when more and more people felt that injustice was being served that Paris truly revealed its greatness—a greatness forged by the anger and bloodshed of ordinary people.

For the sake of his mother and sister, Mikhail did not live in a bad place, after all, others might not have the same good health as him. But when Mikhail went out with Turgenev, he still unconsciously headed towards the real Paris.

As he walked through these places, the amount of spare change he had specially prepared in his pocket naturally decreased significantly.

Turgenev followed Mikhail's gaze the whole way, observing the surrounding situation and Mikhail's reactions. He thought Mikhail would have a lot to say and would start talking at length about something, but in reality, Mikhail said nothing.

He simply greeted some people with a gentle gaze and a gentle tone, shook hands, occasionally smiled and said something to them, and sometimes remained silent.

Just as the two of them were about to leave this dirty, impoverished street, suddenly, several ragged, young children rushed in carrying something. They had barely left when these children began loudly hawking their wares with practiced ease:

"Breaking news! Breaking news! The latest issue of the Century! Only one sou per copy! The great monster from the seabed has finally revealed its true form!"

"Breaking news! Breaking news! A major plot twist has occurred in the novel serialized in the Century Newspaper! Undersea views you've never seen before!"

"France's most unique novel is currently being serialized in Le Soir! An absolutely incredible story is unfolding!"

When their childish yet clear voices rang out, the street, which had seemed somewhat lifeless, suddenly came alive. Several heads peeked out from their dilapidated doors. Perhaps because the newspaper was indeed very cheap, the newsboys were soon surrounded by people.

Mikhail and Turgenev stood there watching this scene for a long time, and as they looked, Turgenev suddenly recalled a passage from Mikhail's "Letter to Parisian Readers" published in the newspaper:

"Dear readers, regardless of your status or circumstances, please allow me to say something irresponsibly: humanity's pursuit of ideals, beauty, and justice will never end. Imagine freely, act freely."

When Turgenev came to his senses, Mikhail had already looked ahead again. In some places, even the darkness and narrowness of Paris seemed unable to stop the rising sun from shining in. So Turgenev stood there for a while, lost in thought, before following Mikhail.

The sun rises again in Paris today, and Mikhail will begin his official journey in Paris today.

(End of this chapter)