What did classic Russian writers think about FALL?

Conversations about the weather Of course, first and foremost, they were worried about the weather. Fyodor Dostoevsky, author of ‘Crime and Punishment’, wrote to his brother while in the Peter and Paul Fortress (he spent eight months there as a member of the circle of the Petrashevists): “Now the difficult fall months are approaching and with them my hypochondria. Now, the sky is already frowning and the bright patch of sky visible from my case mate is a guarantee of my health and good mood.

But, still, for now, I am still alive and well. And this is a fact for me. And so please do not think anything particularly bad about me.

For now, everything is fine regarding health. I expected much worse and now I see that I have so much vitality stored up in me that you can’t exhaust it.” Anton Chekhov solved the problem with the weather simply – he went abroad, for example, to Nice.

“It’s warm here; even in the evenings, it doesn’t feel like fall. The sea is gentle, touching. The Promenade des Anglais is all overgrown with greenery and shines in the sun; in the mornings, I sit in the shade and read the newspaper.

I walk a lot,” he wrote to publisher Alexei Suvorin. “What kind of weather do we have! I’ve been walking and riding for three days now. I’ll waste my fall like this and if God doesn’t send us a decent frost, I’ll return to you without having done anything,” Alexander Pushkin wrote to his wife from the Mikhailovskoe Estate.

Ivan Bunin watched as.