White Nights by Fyodor Dostoevski
"White Nights," a novella by Fyodor Dostoevski, explores themes of longing, love, and the complexities of human relationships against the backdrop of St. Petersburg's enchanting twilight. The story is narrated by a nameless protagonist who has lived in the city for nearly eight years, feeling isolated and disconnected from its vibrant life. One fateful night, he encounters a distressed young woman named Nastenka, who captivates him with her vulnerability and charm. Their relationship unfolds over several nights, during which they share their dreams, fears, and histories, revealing their deep emotional struggles.
As Nastenka grapples with her lingering feelings for a former lodger, the narrator becomes entangled in his own unrequited affection for her. Their bond grows tender yet complicated, culminating in a poignant exploration of love's transient nature. Ultimately, Nastenka chooses to return to her previous love, leaving the narrator to reflect on their brief connection as a moment of genuine happiness amidst his otherwise solitary existence. Through lyrical prose, Dostoevski invites readers to contemplate the bittersweet essence of love and the human condition during the fleeting "white nights" of summer.
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White Nights by Fyodor Dostoevski
First published: "Belye nochi," 1848 (English translation, 1918)
Type of plot: Impressionistic
Time of work: About 1848
Locale: St. Petersburg
Principal Characters:
The unnamed narrator An insolent gentleman Nastenka , a seventeen-year-old girlHer grandmother Fekla , their charwomanTheir lodger Matrena , the narrator's landlady
The Story
This work takes its title from the long twilight periods that, during the warm months of the year, last nearly until midnight in northern lands, including some parts of Russia. The unnamed narrator has lived in St. Petersburg for nearly eight years and knows very few people in the capital city. During bright, clear spring nights, he has habitually walked down major streets and alongside the canals; recently, he has been troubled by vague misgivings he cannot entirely identify. Quite by chance one night, he happens on a fetching young well-dressed girl leaning against an embankment. She is preoccupied; from time to time muffled sobs escape from her. She is set on by an older gentleman in formal evening attire, evidently with dubious intentions. Stricken with fear, the girl takes flight instantly; the narrator quickly interposes himself between them and drives back the assailant by brandishing his thick, knotted walking stick. When the girl returns, her eyes still moist from weeping, the narrator takes her arm and awkwardly asks her indulgence for his shyness. He confides in her at some length and confesses that, although he is twenty-six years old, heretofore he has only dreamed of women; he has not known any of them apart from two or three old landladies. Before they part, he extracts from her a promise to meet again the next night. He declares that he is overwhelmed with happiness. Throughout their conversation, he is moved and fascinated by her small, delicate hands and gentle laughter.
On the second night, the girl receives the narrator warmly; she apologizes for being overly sentimental and asks him to tell her the whole history of his life. To encourage him, she introduces herself as Nastenka and tells him that she lives with her old, blind grandmother, who is perpetually knitting stockings and is invariably solicitous about the young girl's acquaintances and whereabouts. The narrator unabashedly confesses that he is a dreamer. He is happy only during the evening, when his work is done and familiar sights are invested with heightened, highly personal qualities. His life has passed almost entirely in idleness and solitude; the return to his workday pursuits brings numbing and morose sobriety. Nastenka, who has been listening patiently and attentively, recounts her life with her grandmother and Fekla, their deaf charwoman, at their boardinghouse. Once Nastenka had been shown particular attention by a lodger, and her suspicious grandmother insisted on a strict accounting for all of her movements. Several times all three of them went out to the theater and the opera. When their tenant concluded his business in the capital about a year earlier and went on to Moscow, Nastenka was left isolated again. She had understood that he would write to her but doubts that she will ever hear from him again.
As the third night begins, the narrator fears that there will be no meeting, and for a time he waits in agonizing anticipation. When Nastenka appears, their conversation is confused and inconclusive; she is recurrently troubled by fears that her former lodger has vanished for good. The narrator is awkwardly torn between his growing affection for Nastenka and his concern about the other man.
On the fourth night, all is ended. Nastenka, who still has heard nothing from her erstwhile companion, feels abandoned and betrayed. The narrator offers to intercede for her and suggests that she write a letter that he will take to the lodger. She is troubled that her unrequited love for the other man may have compromised her relations with the narrator; he reassures her that his love for her is undiminished. If the lodger may bring her happiness, on her behalf he will be the more pleased for it. As the narrator weeps, Nastenka bursts into tears, and she lays her hand on his shoulder. Then, each comforted by the other's suffering, they discuss the future; they consider houses where they could live together, and the narrator lightheartedly suggests that they could go to the opera. As they talk over such fondly envisioned projects, Nastenka is suddenly transfixed: She has seen the young man from their boardinghouse. He repeats her name; without a word she takes the narrator by the neck with both hands, kisses him warmly and tenderly, and then hastens to join her lover.
The next day, the narrator is awakened by Matrena, his landlady. He has received a letter from Nastenka; in it, she beseeches his forgiveness and affirms that their love, though short-lived, was sincere. She will be married to the lodger in a week, but she will remember the narrator always. The narrator, with no regrets or recriminations, thankfully invokes his recollections of her as the one ray of happiness in his dreary life.