I am finishing a story ("Ward No. 6"), a very dull one, owing to a complete
absence of woman and the element of love. I can't endure such stories. I
write it as it were by accident, thoughtlessly.

Yes, I wrote to you once that you must be unconcerned when you write
pathetic stories. And you did not understand me. You may weep and moan over
your stories, you may suffer together with your heroes, but I consider one
must do this so that the reader does not notice it. The more objective, the
stronger will be the effect.




TO A. S. SUVORIN.

MELIHOVO,
May 15, 1892.


... I have got hold of the peasants and the shopkeepers here. One had a
haemorrhage from the throat, another had his arm crushed by a tree, a third
had his little daughter sick.... It seems they would be in a desperate case
without me. They bow respectfully to me as Germans do to their pastor, I am
friends with them, and all goes well....




May 28, 1892.