Friday, July 16, 2010

Fyodor Dostoevsky | The Brothers Karamazov | 1880

Dear Alyosha Karamazov,

Or should I call you Alexey? Well it isn't any matter, whichever you prefer.

You see my friend I have come into a bit of trouble. I am not sure how to live without your company. It is true your story was intended to go on, that you were to be a great hero. But alas! I saw you last rejoicing on a hill amongst a crowd of children and then suddenly you were gone. You walked along and over the hill and vanished from my life. You are perhaps the most beautiful person I have ever met and will ever meet. I have come into to trouble as I have lived feeling that you were real, far more real than any person I have encountered thus far.

The trouble is this, where you were real I have begun to feel less than real. Although you exist in a finite sense within pages, you were depicted fully, as if from outside of yourself as well as from within. I cannot see myself from the outside, and therefore feel far less real, far less whole, especially in your absence. It is true that neither of us is at present aware of our fate, or will ever be until we meet it. Still I would have liked to think that we might have met some day within the realm of the real. You have the greatest heart of all men. I would be sure to know you immediately if ever we do meet again.