(4) An unusual proposal by the great writer Dostoevsky! Dostoevsky's big game, in which he confessed his novelistic love to his wife Anna!

(4) An unusual proposal by the great writer Dostoevsky! Dostoevsky's big game, in which he confessed his novelistic love to his wife Anna!

Previous Article(3) The Beginning of the Love Affair between Dostoevsky and Lady Anna: Their Rapid Approaching Through Their Collaboration in Dictating "The Gambler."Now let's see if Dostoevsky and his wife AnnaThe Gambler.I told you how they approached each other rapidly through their writing. Dostoevsky was attracted to the excellent stenographer, Mrs. Anna, and Mrs. Anna also came to feel more than mere admiration for Dostoevsky, the writer she admired.

However, with the completion of the writing of "The Gambler," the days of seeing each other every day come to an end.

There, Dostoevsky was to visit the home of Mrs. Anna. He also met with his mother, finally taking a step beyond a mere working relationship.

However, it seems that Mrs. Anna did not yet have a real feeling about "beyond". Let's hear what she had to say.

The day after Fyodor Mikhailovich's visit, I went to my sister Mariya Swatkovskaya's house and spent the day there. I told my sister and her husband about my work at Dostoevsky's place. During the day I worked at his house, and at night I was busy transcribing his shorthand, so I seldom saw my sister Masha, and our conversations were so hectic. She listened attentively to what I had to say, constantly interrupting me or urging me to speak more fully. When she saw that I was getting very enthusiastic, she said to me on her way home, "I'm sorry, but I don't think I'm going to be able to do this.

No, Natechka (the blog author's nickname for Anna), don't be so attracted to Dostoevsky. Your dreams will never come true. Besides, it would be better for you not to be with such a sickly, involved, debt-burdened person.

I was not "attracted" to Dostoevsky in the slightest, nor did I "dream" of him, but only enjoyed talking with a clever and talented person, and appreciated his constant kindness and hospitality, I explained.

However, I was troubled by my sister's words, and after returning home, I asked myself, "Is she right? Was she right? Was I really "attracted" to Fyodor Mikhailovich? This must be the beginning of a love I had never felt before. What a silly dream of mine! How is this possible? But if this is the beginning of love, what should I do? Shouldn't I make up some excuse, refuse the next job, not see him any more, not even think about him, and gradually forget about him? Shouldn't she devote herself to some other work and regain the calm that she had always cherished so much? But perhaps my sister was misguided, and nothing dangerous was happening to her. Why should I give up my dream of working as a stenographer, and why should I give up the opportunity for the fun and interesting conversations that come from this job?

And what is most depressing is that Fyodor Mikhailovich, who is accustomed to dictation, is thrown out without the aid of a stenographer. I know that none of Mr. Olikhin's students (except the two who stand as stenographers) can match me in speed of dictation and accuracy of transcription.

These thoughts flickered through my mind and I was very restless.

Misuzu Shobo, Anna Dostoevskaya, translated by Hiroshi MatsushitaDostoevsky in Recollection."p61-62

My sister's words of reproof to Mrs. Anna are exactly what I would say too.

Dostoevsky has epilepsy and has major seizures several times a month. And Dostoevsky has many relatives and takes care of them as well. He has a huge debt from the death of his brother...

It is not surprising that his relatives are worried about Mrs. Anna. At this time, Anna was only 20 years old. Her life is just beginning. Why should she dream about a risky middle-aged man named Dostoevsky?

Mrs. Anna refutes her sister's words. This is exactly the reaction of a maiden in love.

At any rate, there is no doubt that Mrs. Anna had a certain fondness for Dostoevsky. However, it was impossible for her to take a step forward from there. It was not an option for the serious 20-year-old Anna to make an appeal to Dostoevsky. After all, if Dostoevsky does not make a move, nothing will happen.

And Dostoevsky actually got in on the action. Three days after his first visit, Dostoevsky visited Mrs. Anna's house again. It was a sudden visit with no prior notice, which seemed to surprise Mrs. Anna, but it is true that it brought the two closer together again.

Two days later, the fateful November 8 arrives.

On this day, Dostoevsky had invited Mrs. Anna to his home to discuss his later work.

Here is the uncut version of Dostoevsky's first great victory. We will listen to the words of Mrs. Anna in "Dostoevsky in Recollection," which is 9 pages in the book and quite long as a quote. We hope you will witness his proposal.

November 8, 1866 is a memorable day in my life. It was on that day that Fyodor Mikhailovich told me he loved me and asked me to be his wife. Half a century has passed since then, but I remember that day as clearly as if it had happened a month ago, down to the smallest detail.

It was a beautiful sunny day with a bitter cold chill. I was 30 minutes late for my appointment because I had gone out on foot. He seemed to have been waiting for me and came to the door at the sound of my voice.

He helped me put off my hood and overcoat. We went into the study together. The room was very bright today, and I was a bit uncomfortable to see that he seemed to be somewhat restless. He was excited, his face was full of joy, and he looked very young.

I am so happy that you came," Fyodor Mikhailovich began. I was terribly worried that you would forget your appointment.

What made you think that? I always keep my promises.

I am sorry, but I know you always keep your promises. I am so happy to see you again."

I am happy to see you again, Fyodor Mikhailovich. And I'm in such a good mood. Something good must have happened to you.

Yes, I had it. I had a wonderful dream in the morning.

Is that what this is about? I said, starting to laugh.

I am a very serious person about my dreams. I value dreams very highly. My dreams are always very accurate. When my late brother Misha appears in my dreams, and especially when I dream about my father, bad things are sure to happen.

So, what did you dream about this morning?

Look at this big ebony box. It was a gift from my friend from Siberia, Chokan Walihanov, and I treasure it very much. I use it to store manuscripts, letters, and other important mementos. In my dream, I was sitting in front of this box and putting away my writings. Suddenly, there was something like a shining star between the boxes. As I flipped through more pages, the stars appeared and disappeared. I was so absorbed that I slowly put it away and found a small but sparkling jewel inside.

What did you do with it?

Unfortunately, I don't remember it. I don't know what happened after that, because I moved on to other dreams. But it was a good dream.

I said to him, "Dreams are reverse dreams," and immediately wished I hadn't said it. I wished I had not said it right away, because his face suddenly changed, and it seemed as if a shadow had appeared on it.

He exclaimed sadly, "Do you think that happiness will never come to me? Why do you think," he exclaimed sadly, "that happiness will never come to me? Why should it be but a vain hope?

I can't divine dreams, and I don't believe in them at all," I replied.

I felt sorry for Fyodor Mikhailovich because he had lost his energy, and I wanted to do something to put him back in a good mood. He asked me what kind of dreams I had, and I told him in a playful tone about my own dreams.

The person I see most often is the principal of my old junior high school. She was an imposing woman with the hair at her temples curled up like in the old days, and I used to get a lot of complaints from her. I also dreamed of a brown cat. Once it jumped over the garden wall, which really scared me.

Oh, you are a child, a child! He repeated with a laugh, looking at me with kind eyes. He looked at me with kind eyes and repeated with a laugh: "What a dream you have! Yes, did you enjoy the day of the name of the Mother of God?

Yes, very much so. After dinner, the old people started playing cards, but we young people gathered in the study and chatted all night long. We had two pleasant and funny students.

At these words, his expression turned dark again. This time, his mood changed so quickly that I was surprised. I had never heard of epilepsy, so I was frightened, thinking that this change in mood might be a sign of a seizure.

Since Fyodor Mihailovich had started coming to me for shorthand, he had long been telling me about what he had done or where he had been while I was away. So I hurried to ask him what kind of work he was working on these days.

I had a new novel in mind."

Is it true? Is it interesting?

I found it quite interesting, but I couldn't get to the end. It's all about the psychology of the young girl. If I were in Moscow, I would ask my niece, Sonechka. That is why I wanted to ask for your help.

When I was told this, I was filled with pride in "helping" a great writer.

So, what kind of hero are you?"

I'm a painter. I'm not young anymore, well, I'm about my age."

Please talk to me, please talk to me," I urged, my curiosity piqued.

In response, a wonderful impromptu tale burst forth from his mouth. Never before or since had I heard him speak with such a sense of being gripped by something. As the story progressed, it became clearer and clearer that he was talking about himself, although the characters and circumstances had been changed. The story contained everything he had told me in the past, in passing and in passing. Listening to the detailed and sequential story, I began to understand many things about his relationship with his late wife and other relatives.

The story also describes his painful childhood, the early loss of his beloved father, and his inescapable fate (a serious illness) that pulled him away from life and his beloved art for ten years. The story also includes his painful childhood when his father, whom he loved, died early, and his inescapable fate (a serious illness) that pulled him out of his life for a decade and away from the art he loved.

The protagonist's mental state, his loneliness, his disappointment in those around him, his longing for a new life, his desire to love, and his fervent desire to find happiness once again were visibly and skillfully depicted in the book. It was as if it were the author's own suffering, and never the product of mere fantasy.

He was not afraid to describe the protagonist in a dark tone. According to him, he was a gloomy and doubtful man who was depressed for his age and suffering from an incurable disease (paralysis of one hand). In fact, he was a gentle man who could not express his feelings well. Although he was supposed to be a very talented painter, he was in fact a failure. He has never been able to materialize his ideas in the way he dreamed of in this world, and he is always suffering from this.

I couldn't help but to interrupt Ro because I thought the protagonist was himself.

But, Fyodor Mikhailovich, why are you so hard on your protagonist?

You wouldn't be able to relate to someone like this."

No, I disagree. He is very friendly. He has a wonderful heart. No matter how many misfortunes have befallen you, you endure them without grumbling. If you had to suffer so much misfortune, you would be a mean person, but your hero still loves people and tries to help them. You are certainly not being fair to your protagonist.

Yes, I agree. He is a good and kind-hearted person. I am so glad that he understands that.

Then he continued. 'Thus, at this decisive time in his life, the painter makes the acquaintance of a young girl about your age, or two or three years older. Let's not just call her the heroine, let's call her Anya, because it's a nice name. It's a nice name. ......"

When I heard this, I assumed that he was talking about Anna Korvin-Kulkovskaya, my goddaughter. At that moment, I had completely forgotten that my name was also Anna. I had no idea that this novel had such a connection with myself. He had told me a couple of days before that she had recently sent him a letter from abroad, and I thought that the theme of this novel must have been born from the impression of that letter.

The female protagonist was portrayed in a different tone than the main character. According to the author's description, Anya was a gentle person, smart, kind, vivacious, and able to get along with others. At the time, I valued the beauty of women, so I couldn't help but ask: "Anya was a gentle person, smart, kind, vivacious, and able to get along with others.

Is the female protagonist a pretty person?"

I like her face," he said. I like her face.

I thought he had slipped up, and my heart shrunk. I felt hostility toward Korvin-Kulkovskaya.

But, Fyodor Mikhailovich, I think you idealize your 'Anya' too much. Do you really think she is such a person?

She is indeed that kind of person. I studied her very carefully. The painter is ......," he said, continuing his story. I met Anya in an artists' circle, and the more I met her, the more I liked her. The more I met Anya, the more I fell in love with her, and the more strongly I believed that I could find happiness with her. But it seems to him that he will never be able to fulfill this hope. In fact, what can an old, sickly man, who is saddled with debts, give to his young, healthy, and vivacious daughter? Wouldn't love for the painter be a terrible sacrifice from the young girl's point of view? Wouldn't she later come to regret her decision to tie her fate to him? How is it possible for a young girl of such a different character and age to fall in love with a man like this painter of mine? Wouldn't that be psychologically wrong? Anna Grigorievna, this is the point on which I would like to open my opinion.

How could it not be possible? If Anya is a kind and considerate person, and not a dull coquette, as you say, there is no reason why I should not like her. What is there to love about a person who is sick and poor? How can you love someone just because of their looks or money? For her, it is not a sacrifice. As long as she loves the person, she must be happy with herself. You will never regret it!

I said eagerly. He looked at me excitedly.

So you really believe that she can love him wholeheartedly and for the rest of her life?

He hesitated and closed his lo...

Put yourself in her shoes for a moment," he said in a shaky voice. Suppose I am the painter, and I tell you that I am in love with you and ask you to be my wife. Let me ask you, what would you say?

Fyodor Mikhailovich's face was extremely perplexed, and his mental anguish was clearly evident. I realized that this was not just a story for a novel. How badly would I damage his self-esteem and pride if I gave him an ambiguous reply? I stared at his excited face, which was the closest thing I had ever seen to my own.

If I were you, I would say, "I love you, and I will love you forever. I love you and I will love you forever and ever.

I will not mention the many kind and loving words that Fyodor Mikhailovich said to me at this unforgettable moment, because they mean more to me than anything else. They are of the utmost importance to me.

I was so overcome with boundless happiness that for a long time I could not believe it. I remember that after about an hour, he began to talk about his future plans and asked me what I thought.

I can't think about it now," he said. I am too happy.

I didn't know what my life would be like or when the wedding would take place, so I decided not to tell anyone but my mother for the time being. He promised to come to my house tomorrow and spend the evening with me. He said he was looking forward to seeing me.

He saw me to the door and gently tied the straps of my hood. When I was about to leave, Fyodor Mikhailovich called out to me and said, "Fyodor Mikhailovich, you are a good man, and I am a good man.

Anna Grigorievna, now I finally understand what happened to the jewel.

You are remembering your dream again?"

No, I'm not talking about dreams. But I finally found it, and I'm going to treasure it for the rest of my life. And I will treasure it forever.

Oh, no, Fyodor Mikhailovich. What you found is not a jewel, but just a piece of stone," I said with a laugh.

Not so, this time I am sure."

He had already put on a straight face and said so as we were parting.

Misuzu Shobo, Anna Dostoevskaya, translated by Hiroshi MatsushitaDostoevsky in Recollection."p64-72

What do you think? Dostoevsky proposed to his wife by writing a novel. It is an episode that is very typical of a great writer, isn't it?

Thus, Dostoevsky and Madame Anna were united.

And after this, Dostoevsky tells Mrs. Anna about his love for her and his proposal to her. Since we are here, I would like to share this with you as well. Dostoevsky tells us in his own words why he was attracted to her and why he decided to propose to her in this novelistic way.

When you first came to me, I was struck by your sober manner, your earnest, almost scornful demeanor. I thought to myself, what a charming person this earnest, generous girl is. And I was glad that our society had produced such a type of person. One day, I accidentally said something bad to you. Then you looked at me, and I began to pay attention to my language so as not to hurt you. Then I was surprised and attracted by the sincerity that made me look at you, and by the sympathy that you showed for the misfortune to which I was exposed. My relatives and friends may indeed love me, but they may lose their copyrights. They are sorry that I may lose my copyright. They resent the way Stelofsky did it and wonder why I signed such a contract (as if I could not help it), they are angry and blame me, they advise me and comfort me. But these are all just 'words, words, words'. And there is no one who would kindly take on the task of losing copyright and trying to lose everything. But this stranger, the daughter of a stranger, whom I had just met, was immediately accommodating, not ranting and raving, not indignant, trying to help me not with words but with work, or so I thought. After a few days, when my work was getting back on track, I almost despaired, but hope came to me. I thought, 'Maybe if I keep working like this, I can make it by the deadline. Your assurance that we would meet the deadline (remember how we counted the number of manuscripts you wrote down together? When I was talking to you, I often thought, 'What a wonderful daughter you have. I used to think to myself, 'What a good heart this girl has. She is not just talking, she is really sympathizing with you and trying to help you out of your misfortune. I was very lonely, so it was a great joy to find someone who truly sympathized with me.

I think it was then," he continued, "that I began to love you and to like your face. I began to love you, and I began to like your face. I couldn't stop thinking about you all the time. But as soon as "The Gambler" was completed, we would no longer see each other every day, and I knew I couldn't live without you. It was at this moment that I made up my mind to ask for your hand in marriage."

But why didn't you just say so, like other people do? But why didn't you just tell it like other people do?

Hey, my dear Anya," he said, his voice shaking with emotion. When I realized how much you meant to me, it was despair that overcame me, and the idea of having you as my wife seemed to me to be sheer madness. When I realized how much you meant to me, despair filled me, and the idea of taking you as my wife seemed to me to be nothing more than madness. Thinking about it for a moment, how far apart we two are. I am an old man, and you are still just a child. I am a sickly, depressed, tantrumming person with no hope of recovery. You are healthy, vivacious, and full of the joy of life. I have lived most of my life and have tasted many pains. You have lived peacefully and have a bright future ahead of you. On top of that, I am poor and in debt. What can we expect from such a mismatch? Either we will be unhappy and suffer for a few years before parting ways, or we will get along and be happy for the rest of our lives.

I could not bear to hear him speak in such a demeaning manner, so I strongly objected and said, "I am not a good person.

Oh, honey! That is really an exaggeration. There is no difference between us, as you think. If we love each other well, we will be like friends and we will be happy forever. My concern is something else. I am worried that a talented, smart, and well-educated person like you chose such a foolish girl to lead your life. I left junior high school with a silver medal (something I was very proud of back then), but I am not as educated as you, and I am not strong enough to keep up with you. I am afraid that you will see right through me, and I will be disgusted and saddened by my inability to understand your thoughts. Such a mismatch would be worse than any misfortune!

He rushed to soothe me by heaping praise on me one after another. We went back to what I had wanted to hear.

For a long time, I wondered how I should put it. It would be very arrogant for an unattractive man, who is not even young anymore, to ask a young girl for her hand in marriage and not be accepted. I didn't want you to think I was arrogant. What if I make you an offer and then you tell me out of the blue that you are in love with someone else? If you refused, things would become awkward between us, and we would not be able to be intimate with each other as before. I would lose the only person who has shown me sincere affection in the past two years, a friend named you. I have thought many times that it would be too hard to be so lonely and not have your friendship and help. So I decided to tell you the plot of my new novel to get to know how you felt. That way, it would be easier to endure your refusal. It's about the characters in the story, not about us.

I, for my part, told them everything I felt as I listened to the literary offerings. I told them about the misunderstandings, envy, and jealousy I felt toward Anna Vasilyevna.

He was very surprised and said, "So I caught you by surprise and forced you to agree to it. So I caught you by surprise and forced you to agree to it. But that novel was better than any of your other novels, wasn't it? It succeeded at once and brought the desired impression.

Misuzu Shobo, Anna Dostoevskaya, translated by Hiroshi MatsushitaDostoevsky in Recollection."p90-94

Dostoevsky's confession is also very Dostoevsky-like. His novelistic proposal was not a "churlish move on the part of a great writer," but rather a desperate, painstakingly thought-out plan. But I love that kind of Dostoevsky. It is an episode typical of the sensitive Dostoevsky.

They were married on February 15, 1867, and began living together.

However, as expected, the newlywed life, which seemed to be full of happiness, was piled with problems.

In the next article, we will look at their primary problem: their economic situation. It was this economic problem that forced the two to later leave for Western Europe.

be unbroken

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Click here for a list of Dostoevsky's recommended books.
List of recommended Dostoevsky biographies."
List of recommended Dostoevsky commentaries.
A list of recommended commentaries on "Dostoevsky and Christianity."

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