"Few people fell in love with Dostoevsky at first sight because, according to his contemporaries...

Nice pasta

holy mother of autism

these are incredibly righteous

Incel cope.
By the way neither of you is a good writer.

everything is a cope against death

>"I am so debauched I can no longer live a normal life. I am afraid of typhus and fever, and my nerves are weak. The Minushkas, Klarushkas, Mariannas etc. are prettier than ever but they charge crazy money," Dostoevsky wrote to his brother. He was obsessed with paying for sex with women, and on the whole, it appears that there were more vices in his own life than in his works.

>He called himself Quasimodo and was very shy around women. Anyway, this didn't stop him from visiting every brothel in St. Petersburg...

>He was timid. They say he was so timid that he could faint at the sight of female ankles or if a beautiful woman spoke to him. And at the sight of female stockings in a shop window he had to sit down on a bench to calm down.

>And Dostoevsky's sexual preferences went beyond the conventional. In bed, he loved to cause pain and to dominate. For this reason, women whom Dostoevsky had already visited before often refused to sleep with him again.

>Dostoevsky was married twice. The first time at the age of 34, with the marriage subsequently breaking down: His wife left him for a younger lover, provoking in Dostoevsky an acute epileptic seizure and aggravating his inferiority complex.

>The second marriage was a success - stenographer Anna Snitkina (25 years his junior) turned out to be an admirer of the "successful" writer and regarded him as an exceptional character all her life. "I was prepared to be on my knees for him all my life," she recalls in her memoirs.

>But by the time of his second marriage, Dostoevsky was already torn by jealousy because of previous grievances. So he came up with a set of rules for his wife: She should wear only nondescript neutral clothes (no hugging dresses); not smile to men; not laugh in the company of men; not use lipstick or eyeshadow. Searches for lovers and "evidence" of their presence in the house took place regularly and impulsively. Irrational paranoia would sometimes overtake the writer in the middle of the night.

the most /ourguy/ of /ourguy/s

resign yourself to the infinite

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This is fucking BASED.

>Nikolai Nekrasov and Ivan Turgenev, for example, called Dostoevsky an "inflamed pimple."
Russian literary scene of that period was made of the biggest faggots humanity ever witnessed desu. Dostoevsky was like the only decent person among them. No wonder they despised him.

Im a pretty good writer. Sporadic and uneven, with awkward peninsular juts and recourses to circled harbors in no need of greater depth, but certainly capable of a kind of hobbling masonry easily recognizable to the cognizent as imbued with design, and not merely piled up like a haphazard hill of nature's doing.

As far as I can tell, writing is a kind of vomit. Surely you will want to say so in my case. What one eats has rather a large bearing on what one spews. The more often one eats, the more often they may turn their guts about and heave up unpleasant things for other men to mull over.

So, having thought about the act of writing a good deal, I come to you prepared to write about writing. And, these considerations being mine alone, do not merely regurgitate what has been spoon fed. I eat my words, so to speak.

I suspect much of this inward energy called thought, elsewhere libido, might be directed towards some more agreeable effort, like becoming a well decorated body with bells and whistles, a silver watch, a strong handshake and an erect sort of mighty-back presence. But that has always struck me as posturing, which I prefer to do in the relative privacy of written words.

A few are talented enough to be charismatic in person and upon page, but I have to think they would be better at either by becoming worse at the other.

In short, people skills seem to require that one refrain from observations of the various minutia of human interaction, but some of us remain steadfastly hung up on them, so that alterations in the projection of voice cannot be deliberately construed towards calculated affect without our being aware of the broader implications of the character doing the calculation. Which is to say the self observing the self cannot function well as a nonself simply being itself.

What about Dosto and Tolstoy Rush hour?

Tolstoy is the biggest faggot of them all. Peak form prideful hypocrisy.

>Peak form prideful hypocrisy.
Didnt like any of his works?

I like his works very much. It's Tolstoy's philosophy and character that I hate.

From "Seven Years of Hard Labour" by Simon Tokarzewski:
>In January 1850 two new political prisoners were brought to our prison: Sergei Fyodorovich Durov and Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky. Both had been sentenced to four years of hard labor, and then to being drafted into the army. Both were extraordinarily weak, nervous, and overmedicated with iodine and mercury.
[...]
>The other man, Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky, was the acclaimed novelist and author of Poor Folk [1845]. But we felt that this “ornament of the northern capital”(5) did not measure up to his fame. Certainly, he was talented. But it was not his talent but his personality that we encountered. How on earth could this man have ever entered any conspiracy? How could he have participated in any democratic movement? He was the vainest of the vain, and his vanity had to do with belonging to the privileged caste. How could he possibly desire freedom for the people if he accepted only one caste-the nobility, and regarded it as the only class that could lead the nation forward?

>“Nobility,” “nobleman,” “I am a nobleman,” “we noblemen” were constantly on his lips. Whenever he addressed us Poles and said “we noblemen,” I interrupted him: “Excuse me, but I think that here in prison there are no noblemen, but only people deprived of rights, prisoners in a hard labor camp.”

>He foamed with anger:

>“You are of course pleased that you are a prisoner in a labor camp,” he shouted with malice and irony.

>“I am glad that I am who I am,” I answered trying not to show my emotions.

[1/4]

>So how did Dostoevsky become a conspirator? Probably he allowed himself to be carried away by a momentary impulse, just as sometimes, and also on impulse, he showed his deep regret that the waves of conspiracy carried him to the prison in Omsk. He hated us Poles, perhaps because his features and name betrayed a Polish ancestry. He used to say that if he learned that in his veins there flowed even one drop of Polish blood, he would immediately order it to be let out. It was painful to hear this conspirator and sufferer for liberty and progress exclaim that he would be happy only when all countries surrender to the Russian tsar. He did not seem to understand that Ukraine, Volhynia, Podolia, Lithuania, and Poland were forcibly annexed by the Russian empire; on the contrary, he maintained that all these lands belonged to Russia from time immemorial, and God’s justice handed them to the Russian tsar because they could not possibly exist on their own, or rise from their backwardness, barbarism, and destitution without Russia’s help. According to Dostoevsky, the Baltic countries were also Russia, and so were Siberia and the Caucasus. While listening to these ravings we concluded that Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky was mentally challenged concerning Russia’s properties. But he repeated his absurdities with great pleasure. He also maintained that Constantinople should belong to Russia, not to speak of the European part of Turkey which, in his opinion, would soon become a jewel of the Russian empire. On one occasion, he read to us his ode commemorating the eventual conquest of Constantinople by the Russian army! The ode was indeed beautiful, but none of us was in a hurry to congratulate the author. Instead, I asked him:

>“A na vozvratnyi put’ u vas ody net?” [Have you written an ode to commemorate the return of the Russian army back to Russia?]

>This made him mad. He sprang up and called me an ignoramus and a barbarian. He shouted so loudly that ordinary criminals began to murmur that “the politicals are fighting.” We all left the building and went to the courtyard to end this scandalous scene. Dostoevsky kept saying that there exists only one great nation in the world, namely, the Russian nation, and that it is destined for a great mission. According to him, the French were barely acceptable, while the English, Germans, Spaniards were simply human caricatures. By comparison to Russian literature, all world literatures were trivial.

[2/4]

>I remember I told him that in 1844 in Poland a subscription was issued for The Wandering Jew.(6) First he did not believe me, and then said that I was lying. Finally Durov interrupted him and confirmed my statement. Even then he did not quite believe me. He was always poised to belittle any nation, not just the Poles whom he hated with all his heart, but also everyone else but the Russians. He tried to deny that anyone produced anything beautiful, great, or noble, as if wishing to destroy, wipe out, cover up all human achievement in order to prove that Russians were superior to everybody in the world. The style of his disputations was hard to bear. He was conceited and brutal, and he finally made us avoid not only the disputes with him but also ordinary conversations. Thus we had to “conceal our joys and sorrows/And become impenetrable like an abyss.”(7)

>It is very likely that this inability to control his temper was a sign of mental illness; as mentioned above, both Durov and Dostoevsky were nervous and sickly types. So how was it possible that a graduate of the Russian military school became a Russian political prisoner? Judging by what he told us, he was an avid reader. It is possible that images of the French Revolution inflamed his imagination. Or perhaps he found lofty ideas in the works of the great thinkers, and these ideas overpowered his mind and heart and led him onto the road which he soon wished to exit at any price. When Dostoevsky and Durov came to Omsk to live in the same barrack with me, it seemed at first that they were two glittering lights on the dark northern sky. But it was a momentary impression that soon passed, and both I and my companions stopped conversing with Dostoevsky because of his temper.

>After serving his term, Dostoevsky was drafted to the battalion billeted on the town of Semipalyatinsk. While serving there as a private and on the occasion of the Crimean War, he wrote a poem about Tsar Nicholas I in which he presented the Tsar as residing above all the Olympian gods. He wanted to publish the poem, perhaps hoping that flattery would lead to the shortening of his sentence or maybe even to a monetary reward. On this basis and on the basis of our conversations with him, we concluded that Dostoevsky was a man of weak and unattractive character. One could forgive him his hatred of Poles-we bore greater hatreds and succeeded in forgiving them. But it appears that the reason he got to jail was not worthy of respect. I say that even though I was already in prison, in fact on my way to a hard labor camp (and thus outside the realm of the civilized world, where an informed opinion could have been acquired) at the time when [the Petrashevsky affair] was playing out in Petersburg.

[3/4]

>I know nothing about other members of the Petrashevsky Circle, but I do know this: among the few honest and educated Russians whom I met in Siberia, the Petrashevsky affair did not generate either sympathy or interest-quite unlike the Decembrist uprising.(8)
- S. Tokarzewski, "Seven Years of Hard Labour"

[4/4]

>It's Tolstoy's philosophy and character that I hate.
Which part of his? Moralization?

Did Dostoevsky ever change his opinions or it remained the same since labour camp?

The general biographical narrative is that he changed from liberal to reactionary while in the camp, although Tokarzewski's memoirs seem to imply he was like that from the beginning. It's amusing though, to see someone's impression of Dostoevsky as a vain loon during the period he describes in his House of the Dead, which is quite a nuanced and beautiful and humane book.

Literally the most based thing I've ever read, where is this from?

came here to post this

Im intrigued whenever dosto was really that nationalistic (about other countries being russian territory).

why are most great russian authors descended from tatars?

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No that's the Irish

They aren't. Dosto was Polish, Gogol was Ukrainain, and most of the others were just Russian.

Dosto hated the t*rks

Dostoevsky's literary career is half self flagellation for his narcissism and half using his narcissism as a bludgeon. There is no reason to expect the man to be pleasant

This is a clever post, but it is also very annoying

Do you think this is true of many great writers? I mean both in literature and in art (van Gogh) etc?

>be a terrorist because you ar ugly
>write against feminism because nobody want sex with you
That explains quite a lot.

>How can a literally genius-tier writer be so socially retarded?

It seems more like he had an anxiety disorder and similar emotional problems instead of being an autist. He was perfectly self-aware, as evidenced by his characters, just didn't have the temperament to handle people.

So he was keyboard warrior?

For some reason I thought he wasn't socially retarded person and was just able to get into the mind of one. Kinda depressing.

You mean insipring?

This reads as one of the butthurt memes

>ywn read his ode to retaking Constantinople

>They say he was so timid that he could faint at the sight of female ankles
Oh he was also a foot fetishist.

DROPPED.

Based
and redpilled!

>A prophet
what a weird diss

Now is plain clear to me why so many people here dare to say Dostoievsky is the equal to Tolstoy, or even superior to him.

>"completely incapable of conversing with [the] young ladies" of the city, resorting several times to composing lengthy letters of amorous admiration to women he had never once spoken to. On at least one occasion Fyodor was chased away from the homes of a young lady of good standing, her father having spied Fyodor peeping into the his daughter's window in order to observe her reaction to the anonymous letter over several pages in length."

It shows in his work. His female characters are all caricatures. One gets again and again and again the theme of the noble prostitute that is forced to work on the flesh business yet remains a complete idealized portrait of a woman with snow-broth for blood and the Holy-Ghost dove for fleshy heart (Dostoeivsky lost the opportunity to show how the job of a prostitute is, to describe her feelings during the execution of an activity that was completely repulsive to them). Then one can contrast this with Tolstoy’s view, when he said to Maxim Gorky a young woman in his short story was not realistic, because she was already a woman and is described as not wanting male attention and male caresses, when – Tolstoy says something like this – “Girls with 14-15 are already feeling the desire to be palpated and caressed”.

social retardation is often inextricable from genius. if you must pose the question and its answer isn't self-evident, you're a normie and a midwit at best.

Did you miss the part where he was twice married?

Dostoievsky on War and Peace:

>"After the 'new word' of Pushkin, Tolstoy, with War and Peace, arrives too late [in Russian literature]. And, no matter how high he may go, he cannot change the fact that that new word was uttered before him, and for the first time, by a genius."

haha y-yeah

I wonder if Lermontov intentionally incorporated that into A Hero of Our Time to poke fun at Dosto, doesn't Pechorin do this?

Thank God. We need more artists who are so righteous for the Self.

Not really, it sounds like he never truly escaped the trappings of social retard.

Pushkin is overrated and Dosto is coping

I am the guy who posted and I agree 100% with you.

I was trying to show just how mad most of the Russian writers became when someting like War and Peace - that nobody was expecting - was published.

their competitiveness creates one of the greatest era of literature in history. compare to russian emigre literature with only Nabokov and very smaller mediocre guys after

>The second marriage was a success - stenographer Anna Snitkina (25 years his junior) turned out to be an admirer of the "successful" writer and regarded him as an exceptional character all her life. "I was prepared to be on my knees for him all my life," she recalls in her memoirs.
>But by the time of his second marriage, Dostoevsky was already torn by jealousy because of previous grievances. So he came up with a set of rules for his wife: She should wear only nondescript neutral clothes (no hugging dresses); not smile to men; not laugh in the company of me

Imagine living like that.

social "retardation" just goes hand in hand with genius.

SO iam a genius? R-right user?

Nabokov is a faggot.

>The second marriage was a success - stenographer Anna Snitkina (25 years his junior) turned out to be an admirer of the "successful" writer and regarded him as an exceptional character all her life. "I was prepared to be on my knees for him all my life," she recalls in her memoirs.

So he married his stalker?

you have to be retarded not to be socially retarded. socialization is stupid. it's dogs sniffing each other's butts. there's a degree of animality in all social interaction, completely shut-off from the world of ideas, and even language - most communication is non-verbal, and even in speech people more often than not only express themselves... that is, their body, their own baseness. selfies should be called mepics, the self is the body to the average base monstrosity of a person. also, it's impossible to talk to women, since they're so fucking stupid. they're literally incapable of meaningful speech, they're all schizoid in their language
it's impossible for a man of genius to NOT be socially retarded

hot desu

It's only hot if she was hot.

>you will never be a mentally ill tubercolosis stricken writter with your stalker tsundere gf

Based

Can't tell if troll.

>(25 years his junior)

Gogol surpasses every single one of them and by very, very far.

All the Russians can do is COPE.

>stalker tsundere
??

WOW he's just like me

>selfies should be called mepics
the autism in this thread is glorious

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