When RN Morris went to St Petersburg to research his second 19th-century crime novel it felt as if he was revisiting the city he’d imagined so vividly: so much that his guide, a native St Petersburger, said his book had an “authentic atmosphere”. One day – who knows when – he’d like to be able to return and see the city and his guide and friend again.
Once upon a time I wrote four novels set in 19th-century Russia.
My American editor said to me: “So you must be an expert on all things Russian?”
I had to disappoint him.
When I started out on the project, I knew only what I’d picked up from reading a few Russian novels in translation. It’s just that somewhere along the line those books took hold of my imagination. And gave me an idea. When I pitched the idea to my agent, he said: “That could work”. It was all the encouragement I needed.
That idea was to take Porfiry Petrovich, the investigator from Dostoevsky’s great novel Crime and Punishment, and make him the central character in his own detective story.
I had a mountain of research to do if I was going to make it work. I’d never even been to Russia at the time. In fact, I didn’t get to visit St Petersburg until I was working on the second novel.
That’s another thing. I originally intended the first book, A Gentle Axe, to be a stand-alone but my agent put me straight: “You’d better have some other storylines up your sleeve because publishers like it if there’s a series.”
He took the manuscript to Faber and Faber and sure enough they asked for two books, and then two more.
For me writing historical fiction was always something of a confidence trick. It was the research that gave me the confidence to write.
That’s why, in the end, I decided I simply had to go to St Petersburg, even though I wasn’t sure I could justify it in terms of time and cost. I had a young family and was a part time novelist with a demanding day job. It seemed an indulgence to take off on my own and spend days essentially wandering about.
Because that’s all I wanted – and needed – to do. I just wanted to get a feel of the place. To walk the streets that my characters walked. To look up and see the same skyline they did. To feel the same breeze or be warmed by the same sun.
Oh, and visit Dostoevsky’s flat.
Of course, as my wife pointed out, it was impossible for me, or anyone, to visit the St Petersburg of the 1860s–70s. It was a subtle argument against going at all. The St Petersburg I would create was always going to be a St Petersburg of the imagination.
When I did finally get there, I had so thoroughly imagined the place that I experienced the distinctly trippy sensation of walking inside my own head.
While I was there, I met Andrey. We got talking outside the airport in the pelting rain after we landed. The downpour was so heavy, the sky so dark, I couldn’t see where the bus stop was. Andrey kindly guided me to the right place and escorted me all the way into the centre of St Petersburg. Along the way he told me his life story.
We agreed to meet again and spent the whole of the Sunday walking from one end of the city to the other – at least that’s what it felt like. Luckily, the rain had stopped by then.
One of the advantages of having a local to show you round is that you pay the Russian rate at museums and attractions, rather the expensive tourist charge. Another is you get to see the city through the eyes of one of its inhabitants. You hear its stories, as well as seeing its sights.
Andrey was a St Petersburger born and bred. One of the biggest compliments he paid me when I sent him a copy of my book was to say that it had “an authentic St Petersburg atmosphere”.
Over the years I’ve stayed in touch with Andrey and we’ve become friends. We met up a couple of times when he was in London on business. When Putin started his war against Ukraine, I asked him how he was doing.
Like most people in the world, he was shocked by what had happened. He told me it wasn’t easy being against the war in Russia. But however hard it was for Russians, it was nothing compared to what the Ukrainians were going through. Somehow he remained optimistic and positive, predicting that this was the beginning of the end for Putin. I certainly hope he’s right.
Recently, I revisited Russia in my imagination and returned to the world of Porfiry Petrovich, most recently in a short novel called The Crimson Child, in which Porfiry has a cameo role. But I haven’t been back to St Petersburg in real life. Now doesn’t really feel like a good time to go. So I’m still using the store of memories from my last trip there to fuel my imagination.
I hope to finish the next novella in the series soon (and I’m sure my publisher hopes so too!). Even more, I hope to be able to return one day to a peaceful, Putin-less St Petersburg and meet up with Andrey again.
The Crimson Child by RN Morris was published on 5 May, 2023.
It’s the second in his Empire of Shadows series. His previous four Porfiry Petrovich novels have been reissued by Sharpe Books. The second in that series, A Vengeful Longing, was shortlisted for the Duncan Lawrie Dagger Award (now known as the CWA Gold Dagger Award). As those who follow Roger on Twitter will know, he is occasionally assisted in writing by his cat.
See more about this book.
You might enjoy Roger’s previous feature for Historia, Did radicals and reactionaries unite against Tsar Alexander II?
He’s also written Walter Raleigh: stripping away the cloak of myth, in which he asks how a fiction writer tackles the well-known myths attached to historical figures.
Images:
- Illustration for Crime and Punishment by Nikolaj Karasjin, 1893: Store norske leksikon (Public domain)
- The building where Dostoevsky had a flat, now a museum: Monoklon for Wikimedia (CC BY-SA 4.0)
- Dostoevsky’s office in the museum: Davide Mauro for Wikimedia (CC BY-SA 4.0)
