A couple of fragments from DeLillo’s short story, Midnight in Dostoevsky in The New Yorker, 30 November 2009.
“Is Ilgauskas a Russian name?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Does he have to be Russian to read Dostoevsky?”
“A Russian is always a Russian. He even speaks with a slight accent… You have to listen. It’s there.”
“Todd said that Russia was too big for the man. He’d get lost in the expanse. “
“This was my crystalline link: the old man to Ilgauskas to Dostoevsky to Russia…I would spend my life in a thought bubble, purifying the link.”
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