Читать книгу The Autobiographical Works of Fyodor Dostoyevsky - Fyodor Dostoyevsky - Страница 31

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The Writer's Journal had an immense success; nevertheless, my father ceased its publication at the end of the second year, and began to write The Brothers Kara-mazov. Art claimed him, telling him that he was a novelist and not a pubUcist. The Brothers Karamazov, which many critics consider the best of Dostoyevsky's novels, is one of those works which every writer bears in his heart and ponders for years, putting off the actual writing of it till the time when he shall have achieved perfection in his craft. My father did not believe he had reached this goal; he was too severe a judge to have thought so. But something told him that he had not much longer to live. " This will be my last book," he said to his friends when he told them he was going to write The Brothers Karamazov.

Such novels, analysed, meditated upon, caressed, so to say, for years, are generally full of autobiographical details; we find in them the impressions of childhood, youth and maturity. This was the case with The Brothers Karamazov. As I have said above, Ivan Karamazov, according to a family tradition, is a portrait of Dostoyevsky in his youth. There is also a certain likeness between my father and Dmitri Karamazov, who perhaps represents the second period of the author's life, that between his penal servitude and his long sojourn in Europe after his second marriage. Dmitri resembles my father in his Schilleresque, sentimental and romantic characteristics, and his naivete in his relations with women. Just such an one must Dostoyevsky have been when he took such creatures as Maria Dmitrievna and Pauline N for women worthy of respect. But his closest affinity with Dmitri comes out in the arrest, the interrogation, and the sentence of the young man. When he made this trial so important a part of his book, Dostoyevsky evidently wished to record his own sufferings during the Petra-chevsky proceedings.

There is also something of Dostoyevsky in the staretz Zossima. The autobiography of this character was, in fact, my father's biography, at least so far as it relates to his youth. Dostoyevsky placed Zossima in provincial surroundings, in a humbler rank of life than his own, and wrote his autobiography in that curious, somewhat old-fashioned language adopted by our monks and priests. Nevertheless, we recognise in it all the essential facts of Dostoyevsky's childhood: his love for his mother and his elder brother, the impression made upon him by the masses he had listened to as a child; the book. Four Hundred Bible Stories, which was his favourite book; his departure for the Military School in Petersburg, where, according to the staretz Zossima, he was taught to speak French and to behave properly in society, but where at the same time he imbibed so many false ideas that he became " a savage, cruel, stupid creature." This was probably my father's opinion of the education he had received at the Engineers' School.

Although my father gave his own biography to Zossima, he was not content to create an imaginary staretz. He wished to study the type from nature, and before beginning The Brothers Karamazov he made a pilgrimage to the monastery of Optina Pustin, which is not very far from Moscow. This monastery was greatly venerated by my compatriots and looked upon as the centre of Orthodox civilisation; its monks were renowned for their scientific attainments. My father visited it in company with his disciple, the future philosopher, Vladimir Solowiev. Dostoyevsky was much attached to him, and some persons supposed that he had described Solowiev in the person of Aliosha Karamazov.96 The monks of Optina Pustin were informed of Dostoyevsky's proposed visit, and they received him very cordially. They knew that he Intended to describe the monastery in his new novel, and each monk wished to make him the confidant of ideas and hopes for the regeneration of the Church by the re-establishment of the Patriarchate. It is obvious that my father merely gave a literary form to the speeches of Zossima, Father Paissy and Father losef. In such a momentous matter as a religious question he preferred to let the monks speak, since they could speak with authority and knowledge. The personaUty of the staretz Ambrosius, who was the original of Zossima, made a great impression on Dostoyevsky; he spoke of it with emotion after his return from his pilgrimage. The success of The Writer's Journal, the enthusiasm with which the inhabitants of Petersburg received Dostoyevsky at the literary soiries, the prestige he enjoyed among the students attracted the attention of people who felt more interest in the politics than in the literature of their country. These patriots saw no less clearly than Dostoyevsky the abyss between the Russian masses and the intellectuals, which was widening every day. They longed to fill it; they dreamed of establishing patriotic schools, to accustom our young people to devote themselves to the great Orthodox work, our heritage from dying Byzantium, instead of allowing themselves to be carried away by the socialistic Utopias of Europe. A whole society of patriots gathered round my father, foremost among whom were Constantin Pobedonoszev and General Tcherniaev. Pobedonoszev was much liked and appreciated by the Emperor Alexander III, who kept him as his almost omnipotent Minister throughout his reign. Dostoyevsky did not share all the somewhat narrow views of his new friend, but he loved him for his fervid patriotism and his honesty, an uncommon quality in Russia. It was probably this quality which made Dostoyevsky choose him as the guardian of his children in the event of his premature death. Pobedonoszev accepted the responsibilities, and, in spite of his preoccupation with affairs of state, watched over us until my brother's majority, refusing to touch the money due to him as guardian. He had, however, never had any children of his own, and knew little about education, so he had not much influence upon us.

96 I think myself that Aliosha represents my father in early manhood.

General Tcherniaev was an ardent Slavophil. Touched by the sufferings of the Slav peoples, he went to Serbia, collected an army of volunteers and fought bravely against the Turks. His chivalrous exploits produced such enthusiasm in Russia that Alexander II was obliged to declare war on the Turks, and deliver the Slavs from the Turkish yoke. This war had just come to an end, and Tcherniaev returned to Russia. Later, he was appointed Governor-General of our provinces in Central Asia; but in 1879 he was living in Petersburg with his family, and came to see Dostoyevsky every day. Whenever I went into my father's study I found the General seated in his usual place on the sofa, discussing the future confederation of the Slav peoples. My father took the deeplest interest in this question. A Slav Benevolent Society had just been founded in Petersburg under the presidency of a great Russian patriot, Prince Alexander Vassiletchikov. My father was offered the vice-presidency, and he accepted it eagerly. He attached so much importance to his functions that he would deprive himself of sleep in order to attend the meetings of the society, which took place in the afternoon. Dostoyevsky had so accustomed himself to going to bed very late, that he was unable to sleep until five o'clock in the morning; but he always insisted on being called at eleven on the days of the meetings.

My father's biographers have often wondered why towards the end of his life he should have been so passionately interested in the Slav question, to which he had given so little thought in his youth. This ardour for the Slav cause awoke in Dostoyevsky after his long sojourn abroad. When Russians go to Europe for a few months they are generally dazzled by European civilisation; but when they remain for several years and study it methodically my compatriots are struck not so much by the culture of Europeans as by their senility. How old, how worn-out all the Germanic tribes of Franks, Anglo-Saxons and Teutons seem to them I The good qualities and the vices of these people are alike those of the aged. Their very children are born old. It is painful to listen to the anaemic reflections of these little old men and women with bare legs. Europeans do not perceive this, because they are always living together; but we, who come from a youthful country, see it very plainly. It is evident that in a few centuries the trembling hands of the Germans will no longer be able to hold aloft the torch of civiUsation handed to them by the dying Romans. The Slav race will pick up the fallen torch and in its turn give light to the world. The new world which all await impatiently will come from this race. True, the Germans themselves realise the urgent need of a new idea, and seek it feverishly, but they are incapable of finding it. We have lately witnessed one of these European attempts to make a new departure at last. For a whole winter we were regaled with talk of the League of Nations, which was to transform our planet into an earthly Paradise, and the result has been the conclusion of the most commonplace military treaty between France and England. The incapacity of the Germans to rejuvenate the world is easily explained; the whole of their culture is based upon the Latin civilisation of the ancient Romans, a civilisation magnificent, no doubt, but essentially pagan. Try as they may, the Germans will never free themselves from their aristocratic, feudal ideas. The Slavs, whose civilisation is more recent, knew nothing of the Latins. Their culture, received from the Orthodox Church of the East, was profoundly Christian from the beginning. We Slavs, a race of humble shepherds and modest husbandmen, have never had a feudal aristocracy. European capitalism is unknown among us. If by chance a Slav makes a great fortune, his children squander it. Their instinct tells them that capitalists are slaves, and they hasten to break the chains forged by unwise fathers. It would be easy for us to introduce into the world the new idea of Christian democracy which alone can calm the fever of socialist and anarchist agitation.

Dostoyevsky, foreseeing the great mission which will some day be entrusted to the Slavs, earnestly desired their union in preparation for this solemn moment. He dreamed of a confederation of all the Slav nations, a pacific confederation, guiltless of any designs of conquest, or any desire to enslave the Germanic races. Each Slav country to keep its independence, its laws, its institutions, its government, but all to unite in ideas, science, literature and art. Whereas the Germanic nations organised Olympic games in order to show each other the strength of their mailed fists, we Slavs would organise more intelligent Olympiads, assembling in turn in our various capitals to admire the pictures and statues of our artists, listen to the music of our composers, and hear readings from our poets and men of letters. Instead of exhausting ourselves in fratricidal wars as the unhappy Germans have done, we would help, encourage, and fraternise with our fellows. Before offering the new law of Christian democracy to the world, we would begin by showing other nations an example of brotherhood and equality. This consimimation seems very remote at present. The Slavs, but newly delivered from the yoke, are busy fixing the frontiers of their little states. They are right; before embarking on vast enterprises, it is well to consoUdate one's own dwelling. But when all these houses—Russian, Serbian, Czech and others—have been solidly built, the masons will lift up their heads and begin to work out the great destiny of their race.

And yet this Slav dream may be realised sooner than we think. The League of Nations, that last refuge of feudal Imperialism, may play a great part in the organisation of the Slav Confederation. The more tactless Europeans exasperate the Slavs, meddhng in their domestic affairs and trying to bend them to their will, the sooner will the Slavs begin to build up their fraternal union. The League of Nations will soon be confronted by a formidable Slav Confederation, which will be followed, logically and inevitably, by a Confederation of all the Germanic nations. The world is entering on a new phase of its civilisation. The ancient alliance between the countries of different races, the work of kings and diplomatists, has had its day. It was an anomaly, for the people in question generally hated each other the while they lavished compliments and marks of respect. The new confederations, based upon the fraternal sympathy of people of the same race, will be more durable. As they will be about equal in strength, these Slav, Germanic, Latin and Anglo-Saxon confederations will suppress war more surely than could a League of Nations, an antiquated expedient which was once adopted in Europe under the name of the Holy Alliance and lasted but a short time. When the Imperialistic countries feel the ground giving way beneath their feet, they league themselves together, hoping to arrest the popular movement by their united strength. Vain hope 1 We can combat men, but not ideas. The peoples of to-day desire above all things to be free and independent. They will suffer no tutelage, no matter under what form it may be proposed.