A wee bit of a confessional here folks. I was more moved by C&P than BK. There, I've said it. Hardly the most intimate of feelings, yet I do feel as if I've been stranded on a bit of an island for the aforementioned opinion. Perhaps defining 'moved' would be apropos. C&P is hardly uplifting, yet I'd be remiss to not extol its visceral virtues. I've never felt such sheer intensely for the written word as I have than when I'd been tugged inside the tormented mind of Raskolnikov. His narrowed world was such a dizzying, unrelenting one, and one of the least pleasurable ones to boot. While literature at its finest can be provocative and pleasurable, the frenetic tone & depth to this story blew through any normative criteria I may have used to judge a wor & I'm left w/ nothing but Dostoevsky's guts...cloaked in an everlasting, surrendering tide, bound by an intimate connection to darkness.
That said, my bias may lay in my lack of fascination w/ theology- which is one of the firmest of legs that BK stands on. The Grand Inquisitor chapter was the most powerful moment during the work, yet I couldn't ride its wave long enough to transcend my ultimate synopsis of 'pretty damn good, but those expectations I'd had really may have damned this for me.' Perhaps that is the story, one of a sky high ceiling which was impossible to reach...but in actuality, the strength of the book, lying in Alyosha's intangibles, may have simply been too tough for me to swallow. Not to say Ivan's argument was a more compelling one (albeit a more unique vision, intellectually divorced from the soul), his presence just left me wanting...I missed the deep seeded feeling that Dostoevsky jack-hammered me w/ in C&P. There were moments in BK, particularly Ivan's downward spiraling dance w/ the devil, along w/ some of the bits of the raw, familial life that the Russian Proletariats of the time were shelled with...but those moments, for me, didn't smack w/ that prevailing, indomitable wind that C&P did.
Who knows if this is a criticism on BK, an homage to C&P, or simply my unveiling of subjective drivers that get my literary goat...but for now, I'll call it a confessional. For these few reasons and several more, C&P moved me, for better or for worse, more than BK. Am I the only one?