Ornaments
Letter to Alexei Pleshcheyev, Sumy, July 5,1888 I am glad for [Vladimir] Gilyarovsky. He is a good man and not without talent, though uncultivated when it comes to literature. He has a dreadful weakness for commonplaces, for bathetic words and bombastic descriptions, and thinks that without them one simply cannot write. He does have a good nose for beauty in the works of others; he knows that the first and chief excellence of a story lies in its simplicity and sincerity; but he himself is incapable of being either sincere or simple in his stories: he lacks the courage to do so. He reminds me of those believers who do not have the nerve to pray to God in their native Russian rather than in Old Church Slavonic, even though they realize that Russian lies much closer to their truth and to their hearts.
Jargon
Letter to Alexei Suvorin, Melikhovo, August 24,1893
"Nevertheless" and "insofar as" are both bureaucratic expressions. I read them and I spit. The new generation writes in an especially shabby language. Unclear, cold, and inelegant; those sons of bitches write as though they are already dead and lying in the grave.
Don't Be Afraid to Write Nonsense
Letter to Alexander Chekhov, Moscow, April 11, 1889 My advice: try to be original and as clever as possible in your play, but do not be afraid of appearing stupid. Freethinking is essential, but to be a freethinker one must not be afraid to write nonsense.
Avoid Exposйs
Letter to Ivan Leontyev (Shcheglov), Yalta, February 2, 1900 Dear Jean, you are not the type to go in for exposйs, spite, anger, so-called "independence," i.e., criticism aimed at liberals and the new generation. God gave you a kind, gentle heart, so use it and write with a gentle pen and a carefree heart and do not give a thought to the wrongs that have
been done to you Be objective, look on everything
through the eyes of a good man, through your own eyes, that is, and sit down to write a tale or a play based on Russian life, not a critique of Russian life, but a joyous hymn, the song of a goldfinch,17 about Russian life, and indeed life in general, which is given us only once and should not be squandered on exposйs of vicious wives and the Committee. Dear Jean, be fair to yourself and to your gift. Steer your ship into the open seas; do not moor it in the Fontanka.18 Forgive everyone who has offended you, forget about them, and, I repeat, sit down and write.
the company of writers
A Life of Seclusion
Letter to Vukol Lavrov,19 Moscow, April 10, 1890
Criticism does not usually require a rebuttal, but in this in- stance,20 it might be more accurate to speak not of criticism, but libel, pure and simple. Ordinarily I would not bother replying to libel, but in just a few days, I will be leaving Russia for a long time, perhaps never to return, and I lack the strength to keep from responding.
I have never been an unprincipled writer or, what amounts to the same thing, a scoundrel.
True, my entire literary career has been characterized by an unbroken string of mistakes, some of them egregious, but this can be explained by the dimensions of my talent rather than by my goodness or wickedness as a human being. I have never blackmailed anyone. I have never lampooned or libeled anyone. I have never flattered, lied, or insulted anyone. In short, though I have written many stories and editorials that I would gladly throw out as worthless, I cannot find a single line of which I should now be ashamed..
Thus far, I have led a life of seclusion, shut up within these four walls. You and I run into each other perhaps once or twice a year. I have never in my life, for instance, met Mr. Machtet.21 You can judge from this alone how often I get out of the house. I have always steadfastly avoided literary soirйes, parties, meetings, and so forth; never made an appearance in even a single editorial office without an express invitation. I have always tried to present myself to my acquaintances as a physician rather than as a man of letters: in short, I have been a modest writer, and the letter I am now writing you represents the first instance of immodesty in a career that has spanned a decade. I am on excellent terms with my colleagues. I have never taken it upon myself to judge either them or the journals and newspapers in which they publish, because I consider myself lacking the competence to do so, and because I realize that, given the present dependent position of the press, every word against a journal or a writer is not only cruel and tactless, but downright criminal. Until now I have turned down only those journals and newspapers whose inferior quality is both obvious and well proven; on those occasions when I was compelled to choose among them, I always gave priority to those that stood in the greatest need of my services either because of material or other considerations. For this reason I worked neither for your publication nor for the European Messenger, but for the Northern Herald, and as a result I have earned half as much as I would have were I to hold different views on my obligations.
Literary Entourage
Letter to Lydia Avilova, Melikhovo, July 23,1898 Suddenly I am finding writing repellent, and I do not know what to do about it. I would be glad to take up medicine and get a position somewhere, but I lack the physical agility to do this. These days, whenever I start to write or think about having to write, I feel as repelled as if I were eating cabbage soup with a cockroach floating in it—forgive the comparison. What repels me is not the writing itself, but the entire literary entourage from which you cannot hide and which you carry around yourself everywhere you go, the way the Earth carries around its atmosphere.
Academy of Sciences
Letter to the Academy of Sciences, 190222 Your Imperial Highness!
In December of last year, I received notification that A. M. Peshkov23 was elected to the position of Honorary Member of the Academy of Sciences. I wasted no time in seeing A. M. Peshkov, who was at that time sojourning in the Crimea: I was the first to bring him news of his election, and I was the first to offer him my congratulations. Shortly thereafter, the press reported that in view of the charges brought against Peshkov under Paragraph 1035, the election results were pronounced null and void. Moreover, it was clearly indicated that this pronouncement proceeded from the Academy of Sciences, and inasmuch as I am myself an Honorary Member of the Academy, it follows that this pronouncement proceeded from me as well. I offered my heartfelt congratulations and at the same time, I declared the election results to be null and void: it was impossible for me to resolve this contradiction in my own mind or to reconcile it with my conscience. Acquainting myself with the provisions of Paragraph 1035, I failed to arrive at any clarification. And after having given the matter much serious and deep deliberation, I was able to arrive at the decision, a very difficult and painful decision, that I must most respectfully beg Your Imperial Highness to divest me of my honorary membership in the Academy.