he tries
to cover her with the shreds of her torn dress, and the double
sensation of the cloth and the nude body are as keen as a sword and
as inconceivable as madness. And now he cries for help, now he
presses the sweet and supple body to his breast. His unconscious
abandonment unchains the savageness of his passion. He whispers in a
low voice, 'I love you, I love you.' And throwing himself violently
upon her lips, he feels his teeth entering her flesh.

"Then, in the sadness and impetuousness of the kiss, the last bit of
his mind gives way. It seems to him that the lips of the young girl
tremble. For an instant, a terrible terror fills his soul and he
sees a horrible gulf yawning at his feet.... And he hurls himself
into the mad throes of his insane passion."

The account of the collegian, which forms the plot of the story "In
the Fog," is even more daring in its realism. It actually oppresses
the reader, not so much by certain details that provoke disgust, as
by the analysis of the sufferings of an unfortunate young man, whose
mind is pure, but who has let himself be dragged into excesses which
are followed by a sickness of ill name. Severely reprimanded by his
father, the poor young fellow, overcome with sorrow, the victim of
an instinct which he could not conquer, ends his days in a most
horrible way: one evening, he leaves home and goes out into the
streets in an adventuresome spirit. A half-intoxicated prostitute
touches him in passing; he follows her. As they go along, a
conversation starts up, and the young man, although she is repugnant
to him, goes home with her. Once in her room, a violent quarrel
starts up and he kills her, and then commits suicide.

These two stories, especially "The Gulf," caused many lively
discussions on the part of the public, and then in the newspapers.
Mr. Bourenine, the well-known critic of the "Novoye Vremya," says
that he received from several correspondents a series of letters
which blamed Andreyev vehemently and requested that this "skunk" of
literature be called to order according to his deserts. These
protestations were reenforced by an ardent letter from Countess
Tolstoy, the wife of the great author, who reproached Andreyev for
having so complacently painted such sombre pictures, with such low
and violent scenes, all of which tended to pervert youth. The
writers were not the only ones to take offence. Two important
Russian newspapers organized a sort of inquiry, and the