That’s right, today is Fyodor Dostoyevsky’s birthday and I made a cake. Devil’s food because his eyes look ravenous and he wrote so much about the nature of evil. I went through a heavy Dostoyevsky phrase in my teenage years, even going so far as to read multiple translations of the same book within months of each other (translations from Russian apparently give a lot of leeway and it’s important to find one that doesn’t drone with his style–go with Pevear and Volokhonsky). I’m not so enamored of Fyodor now (primarily because I found that the more I disliked humanity en masse the more I loved this guy, and that just seems like a crooked relationship) but I still dip into The Brothers Karamazov from time to time. Happy birthday!
“Talking nonsense is the sole privilege mankind possesses over the other organisms. It’s by talking nonsense that one gets to the truth! I talk nonsense, therefore I’m human”
― Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Notes from Underground