I am a literary giant in Russia

Chapter 213 I like the delicate Plato and the repressed Schopenhauer.

Life is a bundle of desires. When desires are satisfied, we become bored; when desires are not satisfied, we suffer. Life is like a pendulum, swinging back and forth between pain and boredom.

Ordinary people place their hopes for happiness in external things, such as wealth, titles, spouse and children, friends, and social connections, to name a few. Therefore, once they lose these things or find that they have let them down, the foundation of their happiness collapses. In other words, their focus is not on themselves, but rather shifts constantly with each of their expectations and fantasies.

If it's not that I'm unworthy of this era, then it's that this era is unworthy of me.

——Arthur Schopenhauer

When Mikhail learned that Balzac had returned to Paris, he naturally wanted to pay him a visit immediately. After all, Balzac was a well-known writer, and it would be a great pity if he came to Paris and didn't get to see him.

Unfortunately, when Mikhail requested a visit, Balzac replied, "I will only be in Paris for a few days, and I have important guests to entertain, so I really don't have much time. Let's talk about it when I return to Paris in a few days. I will definitely see you then."

Mikhail: “?”

I heard you weren't that busy? And you even met with some of your creditors, so why didn't you want to see me?

Judging from the wording in the letter, Balzac seemed to have no problem with Mikhail, and his statement that he would definitely meet with him in the future was probably sincere. But here's the question: why not now?
While Mikhail was puzzled by this matter, Balzac was in a state of unspeakable suffering.

Although he tried his best to cover something up on the day he returned, the news eventually couldn't be kept secret because there were so many newspapers in Paris reporting on the Russian youth.

Ironically, Mrs. Hanska and her daughter seemed to have heard of the name Mikhail before:

"Hmm? I seem to have heard someone mention this name, saying that a very brilliant young writer came from St. Petersburg, but I haven't read his work yet. Is it the same person? How can French poetry written by a Russian be so beautiful?"

In short, Madame Hanska took a liking to the young Russian man and even asked Balzac if he knew him and could invite him over.

Balzac could only groan inwardly before replying, "He's been sick lately and doesn't want to eat anything. He's currently resting at home, so it's best not to disturb him at this time."

Although Balzac did not want to avoid the sharp edge of a young man, he was completely stunned when he heard some news from his acquaintances.

The thought that this young man was not only skilled in both literature and martial arts, but also handsome, and capable of doing a series of incredible things that attracted the attention of a large number of Parisian noblewomen filled Balzac with envy, jealousy, and resentment. He couldn't help but feel bitter in his heart, so he did his best to prevent his group from meeting this young man.

Fortunately, although Mikhail was a little puzzled, he did not insist on the matter and planned to wait until Balzac returned to Paris in a while before discussing it further.

Not long after, Balzac, who had left Paris again, couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief.
I'll just avoid it for now. It won't be so simple when I come back alone next time!

Unaware of this, Mikhail continued to rehearse the play diligently. To some extent, Mikhail did not rely entirely on what he had in his mind, but rather learned while rehearsing. Whenever he had any questions, in addition to seeking advice from professionals, Mikhail also did not forget the two once-famous playwrights, Alexandre Dumas and Victor Hugo.

Dumas goes without saying, as he championed benevolence and righteousness. As for Hugo, despite his arrogance, Mikhail has now become a very formal guest of Hugo's thanks to his recent performance. Whenever he comes to visit, Hugo will personally receive him, instead of him mingling with a group of young people and having to wait outside for a long time as before.

Of course, even so, Hugo's assessment of Mikhail's love poems, which were already circulating wildly in Parisian high society, was still: "mediocre."

Mikhail: “.”

Hugo, you rascal, if I were to bring out your best poem, I bet you couldn't come up with another one.
Of course, this is just a joke. After all, doing NTR (Netorare) in person too often is a bit too patriarchal.

However, it must be said that although Hugo said it was just so-so, when he heard that a certain poem was supposedly written by Mikhail on the spot, Hugo, who was drinking at the time, almost spat out his wine.

It's one thing to create something on the spot, but what's wrong with the quality of your poem?
However, as one of the most prominent figures in French poetry, Hugo could not afford to appear too shocked, lest he damage his reputation.

However, despite his outward appearance, in Hugo's heart, he truly regarded Mikhail as an important guest who should be treated with utmost respect.

When Mikhail sought his advice on drama, Hugo, seeing that even such a genius had to consult him, and knowing that Mikhail, being from a foreign land, posed no threat to him, did indeed teach Mikhail some of his most valuable secrets, satisfying his vanity.

To his slight surprise, Mikhail not only had a good memory but was also quite perceptive. With a little polishing, such a good talent should have the opportunity to truly enter the hall of drama.

However, despite the uproar in the newspapers about this young man's first drama, Hugo was not optimistic about it. After all, the probability of a drama becoming a hit on its first day was extremely low, not to mention there were other interfering factors.

Seeing that this young man was indeed quite capable, Hugo mentioned to Mikhail a piece of news from his inner circle:
"I heard that the Comédie-Française's new play is scheduled to premiere at the same time as yours, so I suggest that your play be delayed for a while before its premiere. You should also know what kind of status the Comédie-Française holds in France."

Mikhail: “?”

Should I avoid him?
Mikhail smiled slightly upon thinking of this, and then gave his reply: "Thank you for your kindness, but according to our current rehearsal schedule, I think there should be no need to delay the premiere."

Hugo: "?" Is this what young people are like?
While Hugo was surprised by Mikhail's choice, he also grew to admire the young man even more.

Yes, whether it's right or wrong is another matter, but if you want to make a name for yourself in the fiercely competitive Parisian literary scene, how can you possibly reach a higher position without a bit of ambition? Wasn't that how Victor Hugo got to where he is today?

Thinking about this, although Hugo still didn't think much of the project, he figured he could lend a hand once the play was actually going to be performed.

Besides rehearsing, studying, and visiting people and circles these days, Mikhail has also been planning his upcoming trip. As mentioned before, in order to meet the two legendary figures Gauss and Riemann, Mikhail will most likely take a trip to the German Confederation.

Since he was going to the German Confederation during this period, Mikhail really wanted to go to Frankfurt and meet another person he was very interested in: Arthur Schopenhauer.

No kidding, when Mikhail was a literary youth, he read one literary book and philosophy book after another. And since we're talking about philosophy, we have to mention a few philosophers that some people love to use to show off.

Nietzsche is definitely a major example of pretentiousness among them, or rather, Nietzsche's philosophical theories are quite pretentious in a certain sense, with concepts like the will to power and the Übermensch, which are very attractive to young people suffering from adolescent delusions.

A relatively niche, but not exactly niche, choice for showing off is Arthur Schopenhauer.

In its most generalized form, his philosophical theory states that the world is suffering, the world is chaotic, the world is meaningless, everything is nothingness, and everything points to emptiness and suffering.

Although this is a pessimistic conclusion, doesn't it sound rather pretentious in a certain sense?

After all, it's so easy being young! Ahhhhh, I'm so lonely, I'm so miserable, I feel like everything is meaningless, only I've discovered this truth.
Of course, there's nothing wrong with that; it's ultimately a personal feeling.

Mikhail was interested in this philosopher's philosophy for a time, and now, after failing to challenge Hegel's position, the philosopher lives in Frankfurt, a city in the Federal Republic of Germany. Just last year, the second edition of his "The World as Will and Representation" was published, but it was still met with indifference from the academic and critical circles.

As for Schopenhauer's personality, to put it somewhat jokingly, perhaps because he was never recognized and his lifelong unmarried status might have caused him some sexual repression, Schopenhauer was eccentric and irritable, and definitely not an easy person to get along with in reality.

It's worth mentioning that, due to his very poor relationship with his mother and several unsuccessful romantic relationships, Schopenhauer was extremely misogynistic; I won't go into the specifics of his outrageous statements. Nietzsche, who was deeply influenced by Schopenhauer and may have also experienced some sexual repression, inherited this tendency, leading to statements like:
"Are you going to the women? Don't forget to take your whip with you."

Of course, this is also a kind of historical limitation. This problem often occurs in the history of philosophy, and if we trace it back, we can go directly back to Plato and Aristotle.

If we were to give an example, it would be the so-called Platonic love. Due to certain ideological issues, Plato believed that the purest love could only occur between two souls, and only this kind of feeling was noble and precious.

In ancient Greece, this practice was quite prevalent and often occurred between older men and younger men, so Plato may have genuinely been fond of young women.
Well, let's leave the rest aside for now. In short, Mikhail is still working on his travel plans. Before returning to Russia, Mikhail really wants to meet all the people he wants to see.

Amidst this busy schedule, the play rehearsals are progressing better and better. It's estimated that after a while, Mikhail will really need to confirm the premiere date.

During this time, there was another matter that Mikhail needed to complete. Simply put, although Mikhail had promised to serialize two more novels, he hadn't actually written any when he made the promise.
As a result, in order to fulfill his obligations, Mikhail has recently had to do what Alexandre Dumas did: seize every spare moment to write down some things.

It is worth mentioning that writers have all sorts of quirks about writing. Dumas' quirk was that when he urgently needed to write to earn money, he would lock himself in his study and dig a trench around it, leaving only a one-way passage to ensure his efficiency.

At the same time, he used blue for novels, yellow for poetry, rose for essays, and light red for miscellaneous writings; the lack of certain colors could even affect his writing.

The reason I'm bringing this up is because once when Mikhail visited Alexandre Dumas, Dumas seemed to be engrossed in a certain story, and he sat down at his desk and started writing furiously.

Mikhail, bored and with a mission to complete, also asked for paper and pen, and sat down somewhere to start writing.

When Dumas came to his senses, he was still looking at the manuscript in front of him with satisfaction, and casually remarking that his speed seemed to be getting faster and faster. But when he looked at Mikhail...
Upon seeing a pile of what appeared to be freshly drawn manuscripts, Alexandre Dumas was left with a bewildered expression: "???"

Are you serious about this word count?

To be honest, with a large group of people helping him collect information and organize materials, Dumas believed that he was the fastest writer in all of France. No one knew better than him how to make money by writing, not even Balzac, who was obsessed with coffee.

What's the story with this young man?

Out of curiosity, Dumas continued to pretend to write, while secretly spying on Mikhail to see what was going on with him. And as he watched...
Mikhail seemed to be serious about what Dumas was really doing: "???"

Is this right?
With such a prolific writing ability, you're sure to make all the money off Parisian publishers!

I absolutely will not allow this to happen!

For a moment, even the usually confident Alexandre Dumas felt a rare sense of crisis, and surprisingly, the absurd thought that "I still need to practice" even popped into his head.
As all these little incidents occurred, time continued to move forward, and it seemed that in the blink of an eye, the day had come for Mikhail to make his decision.

(End of this chapter)