the russians


One day I gave birth to Prince Myshkin. Dostoyevski looked at me in horror and abasement. This won’t stand he said and went on, yelling this is a breach of copyright. When he took me to court Myshkin was called as my defence claiming Dosty was cruel and abusive, having created the noble Prince as an epileptic quite needlessly. I won my case. Both Russians were found dead soon after.


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