Dostoevsky sees France as under the sway of its smug, hypocritical bourgeoisie, while England is massive, industrial, infernal, apocalyptic. Its crowds fascinate him, as in this striking portrayal of binge drinking, Victorian-style: “On Saturday nights working men and women celebrate their sabbath all night long, guzzling and drinking like beasts … The beer houses are decorated like palaces. Everyone is drunk, but drunk joylessly. Everyone is in a hurry to drink himself into insensibility.”
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