>Lately, I’ve been feeling unwell and I read The House of the Dead. I had forgotten much of it, reread it, and I don’t know a better book in all of modern literature, including Pushkin>If you see Dostoevsky, tell him that I love him.>How I wish I could express everything I feel about Dostoevsky. I never met this man, never had direct dealings with him, and suddenly, when he died, I realized that he was the closest, dearest, most necessary person to me. I was a writer, and writers are all vain, envious - at least, I am that kind of writer. And it never once occurred to me to compete with him - never. Everything he did (the good, the real things he did) was such that the more he did, the better it was for me. Art arouses envy in me, intellect too, but matters of the heart - only joy. I always considered him my friend and thought of it no other way, believed we would meet, that it just hadn’t happened yet, but that it was mine, destined. And suddenly, during lunch - I was dining alone, came late - I read: he died. Some kind of support fell away from me. I was confused, and then it became clear how dear he was to me, and I cried, and I still cry now.
>>25389646Never occurred to compete with dostoevsky
