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Updated: June 14, 2025
But Natalya read books too, the existence of which Mlle, Boncourt did not suspect; she knew all Pushkin by heart. Natalya flushed slightly at meeting Rudin. 'Are you going for a walk? he asked her. 'Yes. We are going into the garden. 'May I come with you? Natalya looked at Mlle, Boncourt 'Mais certainement, monsieur; avec plaisir, said the old lady promptly.
A noble by birth! a rich man a favorite of the gods, you may say, as Pushkin has it, and what did he come to? He drank and dissipated and there you are he's murdered." After a couple of hours the examining magistrate drove up.
This illness coloured his whole life, profoundly affected his character, and gave a feverish and hysterical tone to his books. Dostoevski had a tremendous capacity for enthusiasm. As a boy, he was terribly shaken by the death of Pushkin, and he never lost his admiration for the founder of Russian literature.
His first work, Rouslan and Lioudmilla, was a tale of half-mythical times, in which the influence of Byron was clearly visible, but the author had never allowed himself to become a mere copyist. The same may be said of The Prisoner of the Caucasus, in which Pushkin had an opportunity of describing the romantic scenery of that wild country, which was then entirely new ground.
His passion for poetry, however, never died out, and he kept his memory for nothing but verses; a few days before his death he recited a passage from the Rossiad; but Pushkin he feared, as children fear bogies.
It so happened that, next day, both Anna Thedorovna and ourselves were in want of sundry articles; and since my mother was unwell and Anna lazy, the execution of the commissions devolved upon me, and I set forth with Matrena. Luckily, I soon chanced upon a set of Pushkin, handsomely bound, and set myself to bargain for it.
She went on with the same enthusiasm, and only toward the close did her voice again fall, and in it and in her face her previous dejection was again depicted. She made a complete muddle, as the saying is, of the last four lines, the little volume of Púshkin suddenly slipped from her hands, and she beat a hasty retreat.
In the cadets' library were chaste excerpts from Pushkin and Lermontov; all of Ostrovsky, who only made you laugh; and almost all of Turgenev, who was the very one that played a chief and cruel role in Kolya's life.
It is true the once regular and even now rather pleasing features of his face have undergone some change; his cheeks are flabby; there are close wrinkles like rays about his eyes; a few teeth are not, as Saadi, according to Pushkin, used to say; his light brown hair at least, all that is left of it has assumed a purplish hue, thanks to a composition bought at the Romyon horse-fair of a Jew who gave himself out as an Armenian; but Vyatcheslav Ilarionovitch has a smart walk and a ringing laugh, jingles his spurs and curls his moustaches, and finally speaks of himself as an old cavalry man, whereas we all know that really old men never talk of being old.
O my youth! O my fine simplicity!" Gogol spent the last fifteen years of his life writing this book, and he left it unfinished. Pushkin gave him the subject, as he had for "Revizor."
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