Being the first piece of Russian literature I’ve read, I was extremely excited to delve into the world of Dostoevsky. Initially, his distinct 17th century tone and writing style proved a slightly strenuous introduction. The contrast between previous pieces of literature I had read, such as ‘Pride and Prejudice’ and ‘Man’s search for meaning’ by Victor E. Frankl, was overt. However, as I began to comprehend the meaning and understand the plot, I found myself deeply invested in the protagonist’s life. What had caused him to become so attached to Nastenka, so quickly? Why does he describe himself as a ‘dreamer’? What made him fantasize about his desires instead of truly living? If you were to hold my physical copy of ‘White Nights’, you’d find annotations in the margins and a couple of dozen tabbed pages, representative of the hundreds of thoughts I had whilst reading. 

Whilst slightly unsettling at times, I enjoyed the love story between both characters; ‘I feel positively terrified of the future, because in that future loneliness lurks once more, again that musty, pointless existence and what will there be for me to dream about, when close to you I have already been so happy in the real world.’ The intensity at which it began, and lasted, seemed immense to me. Compared to a modern-day love story, it was borderline psychotic. One could even argue that it is not love; that their feelings stem from manipulation and mental distress. Whilst I think this is truthful, and an important point to recognise, one must take into account the historical context of the time. Written in 19th-century Russia, their love story is a reflection of the time, and the social norms associated with it. 

Surprisingly, most of my curiosity came after I had concluded the book. Being able to reflect upon, and fully fathom the possible meanings of ‘White Nights’ was extremely rewarding. An interesting literary technique I discovered was that the protagonist, who is never once named, uses Nastenka’s name 138 times throughout the short story. Perhaps inferring that Nastenka is so prominent and all-consuming for the character, he has become infatuated with her. She’s held above all else in the protagonist’s world, as if she is his sun – the point at which he orbits around. 

After reading ‘White Nights’, I went on to read ‘The dream of a ridiculous man’, another short story written by Dostoevsky, which I thoroughly enjoyed, perhaps even more so than ‘White Nights’. A favourite quote of mine from ‘The dream of a ridiculous man’ is ‘After all, the reason I stamped my foot at the unfortunate child and brutally shouted at her was because I told myself: ‘not only am I deaf to pity, but even if I commit some inhuman villainy, I can do that now, because in two hours’ time, all will be extinguished.’, in the context that the protagonist plans to commit suicide later that night. Personally, I’m against the idea that he believes he can be immoral and crude simply because ‘It won’t matter’ when he later shoots himself. It matters because you are unjustly hurting another human being.