University of Virginia Library

XVI

I read my story, "The Bull," to him. He laughed much, and praised my knowledge of "the tricks of the language."

"But your treatment of words is not skilful; all your peasants speak cleverly. In actual life what they say is silly and incoherent, and at first you can not make out what a peasant wants to say. That is done deliberately; under the silliness of their words is always concealed a desire to allow the other person to show what is in his mind. A good peasant will never show at once what is in his own mind: it is not profitable. He knows that people approach a stupid man frankly and directly, and that's the very thing he wants. You stand revealed before him, and he at once sees all your weak points. He is suspicious; he is afraid to tell his inmost thoughts even to his wife. But with

your peasants in every story, everything is revealed: it's a universal council of wisdom. And they all speak in aphorisms; that's not true to life either; aphorisms are not natural to the Russian language."

"What about sayings and proverbs?"

"That's a different thing. They are not of to-day's manufacture."

"But you yourself often speak in aphorisms."

"Never. There again you touch everything up, people as well as nature — especially people. So did Lieskov, an affected, finicky writer whom nobody reads now. Don't let any one influence you, fear no one, and then you'll be all right."