The Shadow of Great Britain

Chapter 1372: Chapter 198: The Vitality of St. Petersburg

The St. Petersburg Royal Bookstore on Nevsky Prospect was radiantly luminous, with soft lights shining on the tall stacks of books, vividly illuminating the blue, red, and gold-edged books, as well as the dusty and forgotten book titles. Despite all being books, the distinction between bestsellers and unsold ones clearly demonstrated the power and weakness of human creativity.

The bookstore was bustling, exceptionally crowded. Outside on the street, carriages came and went, with the road and carriages both thundering, causing the windows to jingle as if everything — the lights, the books, the people — was slightly vibrating, making the bookstore appear even more vibrant.

The shop clerks bustled to and fro, eagerly promoting the most powerful of all authors to the visiting patrons, confidently assuring them that as long as they took another glance at the store’s treasure, they would be reluctant to shift their gaze to any other book.

”What a great book! Sir, have you read ’The Bronze Horseman’? No? Then you really haven’t read any good books.”

The man in the brown coat stared at ’The Bronze Horseman’ on the shelf, glanced at the author’s name, and muttered to the square-faced clerk who was gasping for breath: ”Who is Pushkin? Is he Scott’s Russian disciple? I’m here looking for a historical novel to read.”

”Pushkin? You don’t even know Pushkin? Please, clerk, why don’t you introduce him to a few French novels? I already understand what kind of person he is.”

The novice Dragon Cavalry Lieutenant said this while turning to the person next to him, who was anxiously slicing open the last few pages: ”Yes, not everyone is suited to read Pushkin; some people can only read Dumas. As for poetry, whether it’s Byron, Shelley, or Pushkin, they can’t manage any of it.”

The gentleman in the brown coat retorted: ”You’re underestimating me; I don’t read Dumas.”

The Lieutenant ignored his retort and simply praised ’The Bronze Horseman’ loudly, saying: ”Good heavens! Look at this book, some parts are written incredibly well!”

”Hey, take a look, we’ve finally got ’The Bronze Horseman’!”

A regular customer squeezed through the bustling crowd, bouncing and asking: ”What? ’The Bronze Horseman’ has been published?”

”Tell me, how is ’The Bronze Horseman’? What are your thoughts on this new work?”

”Couldn’t be better! Couldn’t be better! If there were a few more scenes, it would be even better... Oh, Pushkin has made great progress!”

A chubby man with a square epaulet beamed and rambled, pinching his chin as if holding a ripe apple: ”It’s mainly the technique, technique! Look here, and here, how skillfully it’s written!”

”Yes, many advantages, very outstanding!” echoed the lean connoisseur, stuffing half an ounce of tobacco into his Roman-style pipe: ”Of course, some parts require strict criticism... Well, you know, he’s still young... but, almost a first-rate work!”

The bookseller joined the conversation with satisfaction: ”On this point, let me report, ensuring a continuous flow of money...”

An official from the Council of State, on a lunch break, entered the bookstore, removed his hat, and humbly asked: ”Is this work really so moving?”

”Of course, it’s very moving!” replied the bookseller, immediately casting a stern glance at his worn-out coat: ”If it weren’t moving, how could we sell four hundred copies in two hours!”

The gentleman in the brown coat was clearly displeased with everyone ignoring him and shouted: ”Do you have works by Walter Scott here? I just finished his ’Rob Roy’ a few days ago and want to read a sequel now.”

The Cavalry Lieutenant pointed the way with his hand: ”Go right, up the stairs to the third floor, where they sell trendy French novels, Dumas, Balzac, and Hugo all available. If you insist on reading Scott, then go down to the first floor; they have other works by Scott, but no sequel to ’Rob Roy’.”

”Why?” The gentleman in the brown coat asked gruffly, his face full of disappointment: ”Isn’t this place supposed to have the richest collection in all of Russia?”

The Lieutenant looked at him with disdain: ”Ironic for someone who claims to be a loyal reader of Scott, do you not know Scott passed away two years ago? If you’re looking for a sequel to ’Rob Roy’, then you shouldn’t come to a bookstore. You should take a fine prayer candle to the church and find a priest to ask God to do you a favor and bring Scott back to write a sequel for you.”

”Scott is dead? Good heavens! Why didn’t you say so earlier? If I’d known he was dead, I wouldn’t have read his books! Ever since finishing ’Rob Roy’, my head has been full of that ’Scottish Robin Hood’.”

Upon hearing this, the connoisseur shook his head and said: ”You’re mistaken; Scott is the King of historical novels, reading his works is never wrong.”

”Whether he’s a King or not, I don’t care; I just know that this year has only just begun, and I’ve already run out of food! Please, may I ask, doesn’t this King have any heirs? Even if he has no biological sons, doesn’t he have any other blood relatives? Such a grand throne for historical novels, is there no one who wants to come and sit on it?”

”Looking for historical novels and Scott’s successor, okay, I know who this gentleman is looking for. Clerk, lead him downstairs to find Carter’s books.”