March<a> 10 <n. st. 1847> Naples.

I have received your letter of January 30* with the enclosure of a bill of exchange (valued at 182 rubles<> silver<om>). Keep the money earned for the "M<ertye> d<ears>" with you and do not send it until I am notified. In my previous letter (dated March 4) I asked you to send my mother two thousand and one hundred rubles in banknotes and Innocent's sermons to my sister Olga. Be kind to me as before, and do not hesitate to send me if the money is available. As for my action with Pogodin, you have probably already received an explanation if you have received my letter of March 4; Pogodin was also introduced into the mystery of this case, so that a letter was sent to him on the same date. In your letter there are few words about my book, but I thank you for a little. You are right in finding traces of a transitional state in my book. I will only tell you as a consolation that the state during which it was written has passed. [729] I myself was frightened for many things in my book when it was being printed, and believe me, by my book I gave myself a much stronger slap in the face than my friends. But there were many reasons for its publication, and by the way[730] that my readers and admirers (alas! and my friends themselves) should finally see that I should not be hurried to print, when I myself feel that I have not yet come to the strength to express myself clearly and simply (one must grow up to simplicity). From my former letters, which I wrote to you, from the painful groan that was heard in them every time I had to respond to the urging to enter the literary field, it seemed that there was no need to hurry me. Oh, if Pogodin had believed me on my word of honor from the very beginning, these mysterious phenomena would not have occurred between us. But what's done is done. Everything is not done without the will of God. Had my book not appeared,[731] reproaches would not have been made to me, which made me look much more sternly at myself. Knowledge of my own state of mind would have escaped me; I would remain in the assumption, perhaps even in the conviction, that I am more perfect than I am, and that I am almost ready for a clever deed. In your other remarks about my book there is a side that is both just and unjust. The latter is not due to your erroneous view, but because my book has been terribly disfigured by the censorship, so that in many places only half of the thought remains. The particle if, although a small particle, but if you throw everything away, if you erase the phrase that determines the said thought, the matter may appear in a completely different way. I will tell you that it was too hard for me to hear of these blotches, that I was very angry with poor Pletnev for hastening to publish the remainder of the book without waiting for what I would say in response to not omitting a whole half of the book. But now I've come to terms with that too. I hear more clearly that from above he disposes of everything better than we think. Perhaps I would not have been attacked so much if many things had been said more wisely and carefully, and because of this there would have been less talk. But this harshness, savagery, arrogance of many things in my book will stir up and touch the hearts of many intelligent people. What is to be done if such is the nature of the Russian man that he cannot be forced to speak until you have driven him out of patience by catching the most living chord. [736] Believe me, without this book I would not know all that I need to know in order for my Dead Souls to come out what it should be. On account of my ignorance of many things, which I pass off with such audacity as knowledge, many will be involuntarily compelled to show their knowledge, which I seek. My friend, do not be angry with me for the obscurity of my words and expressions, if even now something seems unclear or insincere to you. [738] Just remember that I have suffered for too long from the inability to express myself[739]. Simply accept these words of mine on faith: "As long as society does not speak[740] about the subjects spoken of in my book, it is physically impossible for me to advance my work." Forgive me, my good soul, for all the displeasures I have inflicted upon you, for the weight of the troubles with which I have burdened you with regard to my affairs, for my sometimes rude treatment of you, for the insult[742] of that which is close to your tender heart, in a word, forgive me for everything, and, in conclusion of your blessings, do another good deed, which will now be more significant to me than all the previous ones. Collect all the talks, all the remarks, everything that will be said about me and about my book, and especially about the subjects contained in my book, even if some of them are apparently insignificant. It will be up to me to sort it out and weigh it. Pass on the harshest, most scathing words. I tell you truly, that all this is of such benefit to my mind, heart, and soul as you cannot imagine. What should I do if I am destined to reach maturity and reason in this way and not in another! Ask others to write down in simplicity and guilelessly all the words that they hear, just as they are heard. It seems to me that even some of the students who are wiser and more fighting, and who also have occasion to deal more with people, could write down many words and opinions heard from people of all classes, to which they themselves belong, although, let us say, in the form of exercises in literature given to you in terms of acquiring a simple syllable and the art of conveying nature simply, As it is. Indeed, my work is more useful and significant than many people think, and it is worth that my friends, having forgiven me everything, all my injustices, would work with their chests for me. You, Pogodin and Aksakov, as people who should be closer to me than others and who are now more inseparably united with me than ever before (for it is only from this time that direct knowledge of each other must begin), can do much for me. I speak for my sake, when I really ought to say it for good, because, God knows, I am working for good, and I want to make myself better in order to be able to do good. Pogodin, it seems to me, could write down a lot that he would hear from ordinary people and merchants, with whom he very often happens to talk. Read these lines to them. Why should I know? Perhaps God will instruct them to do something for me that will be most useful to me. They will be prompted by this loving[745] and all-forgiving heart, which is resourceful. It would be very necessary for me to have always in my drawer one or two portraits, sketched with a deft hand, albeit cursorily, of a man who could be called a type and representative of his class[746] in his modern, present form. Farewell, my kind soul! I hug you tightly...

Yours G.

For God's sake, write often.

On the reverse: In Moscow. Moscou. Russie. G. Professor of the Imperial<Atory> Moscow University Stepan Petrovich Shevyrev. In Moscow. In Degtyarny Lane, near Tverskaya, in his own<own> house.

Malinovsky D. K., about March 10, 1847*

133. TO D. K. MALINOVSKY.

<About March 10, 1847. Naples>

I read the pages of your confession with attention and curiosity. Much is scattered in them and has not come into the order in which it should be, but good principles wander even in chaos itself. And if only the one who arranges everything helps you to arrange yourself according to your strength, you will come out of a useful person and a person who needs your land. Your idea of describing the people around you today in connection with my "Dead Souls" is very clever, and I am sure that it will be of mutual benefit to both you and me, and perhaps even to the public itself, if it turns out that in your notes there is something decent for others to know, and on this occasion it is worth publishing. Visit as little as possible those public places that you mention in your leaflets, such as b. and taverns (except in the sense of an observer, then at least go to prisons and gangs of thieves). Take care of your health, for there is so little of it given to people of the later generation; Therefore, I would not advise you to study much at night and generally do anything by halting and drinking, even the most useful thing. Observe reasonable equanimity in everything and watch over the purity of your heart, because without it the full and perfect development of our powers is impossible.

Sincerely wishing you success in all goodness.

N. Gogol.

Zhukovsky V. A., March 12, 1847*