russian-style
russian-style:

Vsevolod Garshin (14 February 1855 – 5 April 1888) was a Russian writer. His short stories are often concerned to the reflection of the evil’s nature and struggle against it . “The red flower” is considered to be his best work. The main character is a mad man  put in a psychiatric hospital. There in the garden he notices three red flowers and decides that there are the essence of the world’s evil. He intendes to destroy it picking them up. He believes himself to be the only man to understand it and possible to commit. He is ready to sacrifice his life to eliminate the evil. 
Since childhood he had inclinations to mental illness. The impressions of war and execution of terrorist Mlodetsky who tried to assassinate count Loris-Melikov worsened his condition. He tried to save Mlodetsky’s life in order to stop the terror and future deaths. At night he woke the count up and tried to persuade him to mercy upon Mlodetsky. He cried kneeling. But the next day Mlodetsky was executed. 
Garshin’s relatives put him in psychiatric hospital because he constantly cried, drunk, stopped sleeping. He told rambling creepy stories. After two years of recovering he married and wrote “The red flower”. It has biographic features - because it was Garshin who in seizures dreamed about complete destroy of the evil. 
His illness and desperation developed until he committed a suicide by throwing himself down a stairwell in 1888. He was just 33.
@lhommerevoltee photo, jacquemard text.

russian-style:

Vsevolod Garshin (14 February 1855 – 5 April 1888) was a Russian writer. His short stories are often concerned to the reflection of the evil’s nature and struggle against it . “The red flower” is considered to be his best work. The main character is a mad man  put in a psychiatric hospital. There in the garden he notices three red flowers and decides that there are the essence of the world’s evil. He intendes to destroy it picking them up. He believes himself to be the only man to understand it and possible to commit. He is ready to sacrifice his life to eliminate the evil. 

Since childhood he had inclinations to mental illness. The impressions of war and execution of terrorist Mlodetsky who tried to assassinate count Loris-Melikov worsened his condition. He tried to save Mlodetsky’s life in order to stop the terror and future deaths. At night he woke the count up and tried to persuade him to mercy upon Mlodetsky. He cried kneeling. But the next day Mlodetsky was executed. 

Garshin’s relatives put him in psychiatric hospital because he constantly cried, drunk, stopped sleeping. He told rambling creepy stories. After two years of recovering he married and wrote “The red flower”. It has biographic features - because it was Garshin who in seizures dreamed about complete destroy of the evil. 

His illness and desperation developed until he committed a suicide by throwing himself down a stairwell in 1888. He was just 33.

@lhommerevoltee photo, jacquemard text.

Ivan Turgenev, by Henry James. 1903.

When the mortal remains of Ivan Turgenev were about to be transported from Paris for interment in his own country, a short commemorative service was held at the Gare du Nord. Ernest Renan and Edmond About, standing beside the train in which his coffin had been placed, bade farewell in the name of the French people to the illustrious stranger who for so many years had been their honoured and grateful guest. M. Renan made a beautiful speech, and M. About a very clever one, and each of them characterised, with ingenuity, the genius and the moral nature of the most touching of writers, the most lovable of men. “Turgenev,” said M. Renan, “received by the mysterious decree which marks out human vocations the gift which is noble beyond all others: he was born essentially impersonal.” The passage is so eloquent that one must repeat the whole of it. “His conscience was not that of an individual to whom nature had been more or less generous: it was in some sort the conscience of a people. Before he was born he had lived for thousands of years; infinite successions of reveries had amassed themselves in the depths of his heart. No man has been as much as he the incarnation of a whole race: generations of ancestors, lost in the sleep of centuries, speechless, came through him to life and utterance.”

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fyodors
The Roman orator spoke out
‘midst civil war and strife:
‘Too long I slumbered, and Rome’s night
Has overtaken me upon my journey!’
True! But in parting with Rom’s glory
From the Capitoline heights
You watched in all its grandeur
The setting of her bloody sun! …
Blessed are they who sojourned here
In this world’s fateful hours —
For they were summoned by the angels
As guests to a great feast;
They witnessed spectacles majestic,
Were brought into the inner circle,
And, while there, drank immortal life
From heav’n’s own chalice!
Fyodor Tyutchev, 'Cicero' (via fyodors)
fyodors
The wondrous moment of our meeting…
Still I remember you appear
Before me like a vision fleeting,
A beauty’s angel pure and clear.

In hopeless ennui surrounding
The worldly bustle, to my ear
For long your tender voice kept sounding,
For long in dreams came features dear.

Time passed. Unruly storms confounded
Old dreams, and I from year to year
Forgot how tender you had sounded,
Your heavenly features once so dear.

My backwoods days dragged slow and quiet —
Dull fence around, dark vault above —
Devoid of God and uninspired,
Devoid of tears, of fire, of love.

Sleep from my soul began retreating,
And here you once again appear
Before me like a vision fleeting,
A beauty’s angel pure and clear.

In ecstasy my heart is beating,
Old joys for it anew revive;
Inspired and God-filled, it is greeting
The fire, and tears, and love alive.