Читать книгу A Man from the Future. 1856 - Евгений Платонов - Страница 11

After breaking up with Katya, Dmitry threw himself into his studies. He wrote term papers, prepared for exams, participated in academic conferences. It seemed like the pain was subsiding, like life was going on.

In his fifth year he began work on his thesis: “Chivalric Culture in the Era of the Crusades.” His advisor was Professor Krylov, who highly valued Dmitry’s abilities.

“You have talent, young man,” he would say. “You know how to not just study facts, but feel an era. That’s a rare quality. After you defend your thesis, I’ll recommend you for graduate school.”

Graduate school, Dmitry dreamed back then. Then a doctoral dissertation, teaching, academic work. There it is, my destiny, my calling.

He defended his thesis with honors. The committee praised his work, Professor Krylov was pleased, his parents finally felt proud of their son.

“So, historian,” his father said after the defense, “now you’ll teach at the university?”

“First graduate school, Dad,” Dmitry explained. “And then, if everything works out, I’ll become a lecturer.”

“And how much does it pay?” his mother asked practically.

“Not much for now,” Dmitry admitted. “But it’s a calling, Mom. It’s what makes life worth living.”

A calling, he smirked bitterly in the present. How naive I was.

He was indeed accepted into graduate school. The first year went well – he studied primary sources, wrote articles, presented at conferences. Professor Krylov supported him, gave valuable advice, introduced him to colleagues from other cities.

But in the second year of graduate school, something happened that turned his whole life upside down. Professor Krylov suddenly died of a heart attack – right in the middle of a lecture, collapsed at the blackboard and never got up. For Dmitry it wasn’t just the loss of an academic advisor – it was like losing a father, a mentor, the only person who believed in him.

“What do I do now?” he asked the department chair. “Who will be my advisor?”

“We’ll see,” the chair answered vaguely. “We’ll find someone.”

They found a new advisor – a young associate professor named Petrov, who specialized in twentieth-century Russian history and understood little about the Middle Ages. The very first meeting showed they wouldn’t be able to work together.

“Your topic is too narrow,” Petrov declared. “Chivalric culture isn’t relevant. You’d better switch to something more contemporary. I can offer you a topic on the history of nineteenth-century industry.”

“But I’ve spent three years studying the Middle Ages!” Dmitry objected. “I already have research, sources, a dissertation plan!”

“The sources will stay in the archives,” Petrov replied coldly. “But you need to think about your career. Nobody’s interested in the Middle Ages. But industry – that’s an in-demand topic.”

*An in-demand topic,* Dmitry remembered with disgust. *Everything has to be in-demand, relevant, useful. But beauty, poetry, the human spirit – those aren’t relevant.*

He tried to find another advisor, but everywhere he was turned down. The Middle Ages really was of no interest to anyone – everyone was working on either contemporary topics or “relevant” historical periods.

After six months of struggle, Dmitry realized that graduate school was over for him. He wrote a letter of withdrawal and left the university.

*That’s when something broke inside me,* he thought. *The dream I’d lived with since childhood had collapsed. And I couldn’t find anything to replace it.*

***