The Cultural Environment in Russia…

The cultural environment in Russia in the mid-19th century seems fantastic. Not only because of the vigor, the effervescence of the debates, the practical consequences of the ideas in circulation, the active censorship, the controversies, the political events… but it is astonishing, first of all, the calibre of the authors who were publishing in the press—a press that was still home to much, much literature, and boasted a plethora that Russia had never produced and will never produce;—then, the relevance of what was being discussed, the historical importance of the discussions. The enthusiasm with which all this took place proved to be entirely justified, and words fail to describe the contrast with what is happening in the press today. It is didactic, however, to note the explosive results that followed such vigor.

It Is Characteristic of Many Authors…

It is characteristic of many authors that they express themselves with restraint, more by suggesting than by actually expressing what they want. In some cases, the suggestion certainly works, and perhaps says more than direct expression could. But this technique, if always employed, results in a vice that harms the author even more than the work. It is a vice that, whenever the verb is born inflamed in the mind, rejects its inflamed expression on paper. And so it is as if the author were forbidden certain ways of speaking. It is not just an obvious limitation, but the deprivation of extremely important artistic experiences: once the writer breaks all ties and forces his spirit to express what he wants with maximum intensity, he will realize that there, in the act of creation, something different has happened; but, above all, he will realize that, by concentrating entirely and sincerely on this, something different always happens.

The Critic’s Judgment of a Literary Work…

Regardless of the line adopted, the critic’s judgment of a literary work will always be conditioned by the strength with which it has penetrated and imprinted itself on his mind. Therefore, the elements he identifies, such as the cohesiveness of the plot, the truthfulness of the characters, the beauty of the expression, the relevance of the themes addressed, all of this is as if they prove to be as effective as they make the work memorable, and consequently change or enrich the critic’s own understanding of reality. Valuing novelty, then, is justified because novelty shines a new light on the mind. As long as the critic continues to judge along these lines, he will be making a criticism that may be subjective, perhaps unfair, but always authentic. On the other hand, taking the opposite route will always be a waste and a deviation from his function.

When We Overcome Our Fear of Death…

When we overcome our fear of death and look at it with benevolence, the lines we write are filled with new value. If we ignore it, we can be deluded and adopt a false purpose for writing; we can forget the true value of letters. But if we face it, if we accept it and even come to appreciate it, the act of writing takes on something transcendent, and we see the work as the noblest thing we can do.