Review: White Nights

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White Nights White Nights by Fyodor Dostoevsky
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Not the most engaging of Dostoevsky's works. But it has a certain sobering, melancholic, romanticism about it. As someone who is prone to taking long contemplative walks, especially at the early hours past midnight, this spoke to me.

The way that our female character is written, one is also left to ponder, who exactly was it that hurt Fyodor's heart in such a callous way, that now they have the misfortune of having their legacy living in infamy in the annals of literature.

Our main character is clearly a stand in for the writer himself. Who somehow managed to be the first simp in recorded literature (I assume), to get friend zoned by the object of his affection, with the good ol 'It's not you, it's me', and 'you're like a brother to me; we can still be friends, right?', one two punch to the gut, that most cohorts would empathize with, to this day.

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