I am a literary giant in Russia

Chapter 29 The Essence of the Party

Mikhail thought about it and agreed to Belinsky's suggestion, even though the novel he was going to read might not be friendly to the gentlemen at the gathering. But to be honest, the previous two novels were already somewhat unfriendly to them, but not as intense.

This novel didn't seem that intense to Mikhail, but to these gentlemen, it might be a bit like a horror story.

Putting this aside for now, under the leadership of Belinsky and others, Mikhail and his party soon arrived at a villa in Pavlovsk near St. Petersburg. This beautiful villa was twenty or thirty times larger than Mikhail's pitiful little room.

As soon as they arrived, two young servants came to greet them. Before they went in, Mikhail heard bursts of discussion and noise from afar, as if some heated debate was taking place, but occasionally there was the sound of music.

When Mikhail and others entered, the first thing they saw were several beautiful oil paintings on the wall. The thick oil paint outlined the beautiful natural scenery and the dignified ladies. At this moment, someone was standing in front of the oil painting, thinking about something.

The next thing that came into view was a large leather sofa with copper nails and several armchairs of the same style. A young man who looked very happy was talking to the fat, ruddy-faced old man next to him.

Next to them, a large carved and inlaid copper-clad card table was already crowded with people. On the table were a deck of cards, some documents, and an antique yellow English grand piano, the keys of which were being played by a very pretty woman.

As the sound of the door opening rang out, everyone on the scene gradually put down what they were doing, and then everyone turned their attention to the four people, or to be more precise, to Mikhail.

They were basically familiar with the other three people present, but they had never seen this strange young man before. In addition, they had heard the news from Belinsky a few days ago, so even before Mikhail introduced himself, someone came to greet him.

"Vissarion, you brought a handsome young man with you." The middle-aged man who came forward was a little short, dressed in leather, with a rather thick beard. He looked at Mikhail and smiled friendly.

"You are Mikhail, right? I have read both of your works. Although they are not in line with the current literary trends in Russia, I do see something new in your novels. By the way, I am Ivan Ivanovich Panaev."

"Dear Ivan Ivanovich, I am..."

When Mikhail began to introduce himself and greet everyone present one by one, he couldn't help but glance at Nekrasov. This guy with thick eyebrows and big eyes was indeed staring at the woman not far away at this moment.

It is also worth mentioning that when Dostoevsky later visited Panaev's home, he was deeply infatuated with Panaev's wife Adoveka for several months and even wrote about it in a letter.

This brother Panaev is truly the legendary King of Green...

When Nekrasov withdrew his gaze from a certain place with a guilty conscience, he quickly observed Mikhail's condition.

Although Nekrasov was a good young man from an aristocratic family, because of his extremely miserable life in the past few years, Nekrasov behaved very indecently when he first came to Panaev's house. According to people who saw him at the time, he lacked an elegant attitude and interest in life.

After all, the attendees of salons and gatherings these days are generally of aristocratic origin, and in order to show their uniqueness and elegance, they often try too hard, which makes them seem pretentious and frivolous. But many times, some people tend to enjoy it.

In Nekrasov's opinion, although Mikhail's clothes were not very decent, his attitude was quite remarkable.

Even when facing these authoritative figures in various fields, Mikhail still did not show any flattery or nervousness. He just greeted them normally and occasionally asked them a question.

Most young people inevitably feel fanatical and envious when facing so-called authorities. Not to mention Nekrasov, even Turgenev next to him is the same. However, there is indeed no such sign in Mikhail.

In particular, Mikhail seemed to be quite aware of the status and influence of everyone present in the cultural circle of St. Petersburg.

Because of this seemingly detached attitude, after Mikhail greeted everyone, he was not pulled into the conversation by anyone present for a while. However, Mikhail did not seem to care about it. When Nekrasov came back to his senses from his thoughts, Mikhail had already flashed to the area where the samovar and snacks were placed.

Nekrasov: “?”

You want to take my place, right?
Seeing Mikhail calmly stuffing various things into his mouth, Nekrasov did not dare to delay at all. He stood up and hurried over there.

According to past experience, the snacks in Panaev's house are mostly fixed. Once you finish eating them, they are really gone, and you can only wait for the next main meal.

To be honest, Nekrasov had thought that Mikhail, having just arrived, would be quite reserved and nervous like he was before, but who knew that Mikhail would immediately grasp the essence of this kind of gathering for poor people like them.

It must be said that what he is eating now is really the most delicious thing Mikhail has eaten recently. After all, Mikhail's money is either kept for investment or given away inexplicably to others, so naturally he can only eat at the dining table in the apartment.

Mikhail was quietly replenishing his energy here, while Belinsky on the other side was doing his best to introduce Mikhail, a genius who emerged out of nowhere.

It can only be said that as long as Belinsky felt that any young person's writing level was acceptable and worth looking forward to their further development, then Belinsky would work hard for them without hesitation, but he was unwilling to get any benefits from it.

Just when Belinsky was so engrossed in his introduction, he finally remembered Mikhail, who seemed not to be beside him, and the new work he mentioned, so he immediately turned around to look for Mikhail.

When he saw the two figures standing in that familiar place, Belinsky felt his stomach cramp slightly, as if conveying some opinion.

Belinsky, who had been hungry all morning, said: "."

Why do you think I deliberately gave my breakfast to my wife this morning?
Young people nowadays are really
(End of this chapter)