Summer Reading '10: Brothers Karamazov

[Scheherazade]

This summer we will be reading Brothers Karamazov by Dostoevsky.

Please post your comments and questions in this thread.

[Dark Muse]

Just what I need another fat book to read. Haha, though I do really want to read this one, right now I am already reading two books that are around 800 pages, though luckily I am almost finished with the other two.

[ktm5124]

Haha, I have already been reading this book for the past month - how fortunate that it turns out to be the LitNet summer reading. Right now I'm on Part III, if I remember correctly.

Looking forward to the discussion here :-)

[_Shannon_]

I gotta read Mountains Beyond Mountains first...and then I'll start. I made this my FB book club book for July to help me to stay motivated until the end.

Oh --What translations are we all reading and how'd you pick?

[Janine]

Cool it won. Thanks for letting me know, Scher. I bought the book awhile ago and have wanted to read it. I haven't read anything in ages; so here is my chance to immerse myself in some reading. I enjoyed "The Idiot", so I am sure I will find this book special too, even if it is a really thick book.

[papayahed]

I guess I can give it a go since the last time it was chosen I didn't finish it.

[Michael T]

I've got my copy and I'm ready to go. Let's hope we have a long summer!:smile5:

[Janine]

For anyone who likes audiobooks, you can get the whole book at Librivox free. I just downloaded the first several chapters in MP3 file. You can also subscribe to the audiobook directly in itunes. I did that, too...saw it after I did the first download. I can wear my headphones around and listen while I do housework or chores.

Will this be a three month read? I was pleased to know the reading is of the Constance Garnet translation - since my book is also. Wowy, it's a long novel but it sounds exciting enough to hold my interest.

[Virgil]

Oh great! For such a long book, would it be possible if we had the discipline to discuss parts of the novel at a time? The novel is divided into four Parts. Why don't we do a Part at a time and then at the end have discussion for the entire novel? It will make our discussions go smoother I think.

By the way, I have the new Pevear and Volokhonsky translation. I don't think there is that much of a difference between translations. The Garnett was translated almost a hundred years ago now, so I suspect the P&V (which has gotten great reviews) is a bit more accurate. I don't think that will make a difference to us.

[_Shannon_]

By the way, I have the new Pevear and Volokhonsky translation. I don't think there is that much of a difference between translations. The Garnett was translated almost a hundred years ago now, so I suspect the P&V (which has gotten great reviews) is a bit more accurate. I don't think that will make a difference to us.That's the one I've got, too. I am hoping it facilitates easier reading the way the newest translation of Count of Monte Cristo did for me. I plowed through that book because the modern language made it much easier to read. It's been an interesting thing to me, to watch my ideas about translations grow and change.

I don't know about the discussing in parts--it seems like that might be difficult in this format, unless there are four different threads. I like the idea of discussing it that way, but I am unsure about the practicality of it <wishes there was a scratching head smilie>

[TurquoiseSunset]

Ah man, I still have to finish The Shadow of the Wind...I'll do it this weekend.

I have the Andrew McAndrew translation, which I've heard is quite easy to read. Obviously the Pevear and Volokhonsky translation is the one you really want, as it's most faithful to the original.

I'm quite excited about starting! :lurk5:

[Virgil]

That's the one I've got, too. I am hoping it facilitates easier reading the way the newest translation of Count of Monte Cristo did for me. I plowed through that book because the modern language made it much easier to read. It's been an interesting thing to me, to watch my ideas about translations grow and change.

I don't know about the discussing in parts--it seems like that might be difficult in this format, unless there are four different threads. I like the idea of discussing it that way, but I am unsure about the practicality of it <wishes there was a scratching head smilie>

We discussed DH Lawrence's Women In Love chapter by chapter. It worked out well. There are too many chapters to do it with TBK, and four parts is acutally quite managable, and if someone goes beyond the part of discussion, no one is going to get their knuckles rapped. :wink5:

[motherhubbard]

I picked mine up two days ago. I was afraid everyone else would be finished.

[ktm5124]

I picked mine up two days ago. I was afraid everyone else would be finished.

With this book?! I suspect it will take me two months to read. But I'm already halfway into it, on Book VIII, having started it a month ago, so I should be able to keep up with all the fast readers here :-)

Oh, and did I say that I love it so far? It starts out great, and it stays that way. I especially love the beginning scene with Fyodor Pavlovich at the elder's. Haha, I laughed so hard :-) I love that man - he's quite a character.

[dfloyd]

I have read Brothers three times, and have enjoyed it more each time. The only novel which comes close to Brothers is Don Quixote. After reading the novel, try to find a VHS recording of the 1950s movie. For some reason it has never been put on dvd. In the movie, Yul Brynner is Dimitri, Richard Basehart is Ivan, and a very young Captain Kirk is Alyosha. I don't remember the actor's name, but the bastard brother was nominated for an academy award. Fyodor Karamazov is superbly played by Lee J. Cobb. Claire Bloomi is Dimitri's intended, with Maria Schell as Grushenka. It's too bad this classic movie seems to have been lost.

[Virgil]

I have read Brothers three times, and have enjoyed it more each time. The only novel which comes close to Brothers is Don Quixote. After reading the novel, try to find a VHS recording of the 1950s movie. For some reason it has never been put on dvd. In the movie, Yul Brynner is Dimitri, Richard Basehart is Ivan, and a very young Captain Kirk is Alyosha. I don't remember the actor's name, but the bastard brother was nominated for an academy award. Fyodor Karamazov is superbly played by Lee J. Cobb. Claire Bloomi is Dimitri's intended, with Maria Schell as Grushenka. It's too bad this classic movie seems to have been lost.

I didn't know that dfloyd. Sounds like it's worth seeing.

[_Shannon_]

I have read Brothers three times, and have enjoyed it more each time. The only novel which comes close to Brothers is Don Quixote. After reading the novel, try to find a VHS recording of the 1950s movie. For some reason it has never been put on dvd. In the movie, Yul Brynner is Dimitri, Richard Basehart is Ivan, and a very young Captain Kirk is Alyosha. I don't remember the actor's name, but the bastard brother was nominated for an academy award. Fyodor Karamazov is superbly played by Lee J. Cobb. Claire Bloomi is Dimitri's intended, with Maria Schell as Grushenka. It's too bad this classic movie seems to have been lost.

Thanks! I'll have to check out the library to see if they have it!

[Dark Muse]

I just finished Book 1 and so far I am already really enjoying it and I find that it actually does read pretty quickly. It is easy to get into and it has nice short chapters and leaves you just wanting to read more. I cannot wait to see what happens next.

[Janine]

I listened to chapter 1 last night. I just downloaded the next four chapters, since they are short and you long to devour more, as Dark Muse has pointed out.

[Dark Muse]

I just started reading Book II and I find the meeting in the monastery to be quite hysterical.

I loved this passage, because I agree, I think that those who have a tendency to take offence as everything, do it because they simply enjoy being offended, it makes them feel self-important.


The man who lies to himself can be more easily offended than anyone else. You know it is sometimes very pleasant to take offense, isn't it? A man may know that nobody has insulted him, but that he has invented the insult for himself, has lied and exaggerated to make it picturesque, has caught at a word and made a mountain out of a molehill--he knows that himself, yet he will be the first to take offense, and will revel in his resentment till he feels great pleasure in it.

[Quark]

I just finished Book 1 and so far I am already really enjoying it and I find that it actually does read pretty quickly. It is easy to get into and it has nice short chapters and leaves you just wanting to read more. I cannot wait to see what happens next.

I listened to chapter 1 last night. I just downloaded the next four chapters, since they are short and you long to devour more, as Dark Muse has pointed out.

Yeah, the prose is pretty straight-forward, so it doesn't take long to turn a page. It's also pretty enjoyable, too. Maybe Alyosha's sub-plot gets a little tiresome in the middle of the novel, but for the most part it's a good, quick read (for a 900 page monster). The story also gets better as the novel goes progresses. Really, the best parts are further on.


After reading the novel, try to find a VHS recording of the 1950s movie. For some reason it has never been put on dvd. In the movie, Yul Brynner is Dimitri, Richard Basehart is Ivan, and a very young Captain Kirk is Alyosha. I don't remember the actor's name, but the bastard brother was nominated for an academy award. Fyodor Karamazov is superbly played by Lee J. Cobb. Claire Bloomi is Dimitri's intended, with Maria Schell as Grushenka. It's too bad this classic movie seems to have been lost.

I saw that a while back ago. Funny, I never even noticed Shatner (talk about a different role for him). The cast was good, though. The actor they got for Dmitri was excellent. I had always imagined Dmitri as a larger, more imposing presence, but I think the movie did a great job capturing his intensity. The movie avoided the usual pitfall for adaptations: trying to show everything the novel showed. So often that makes adaptations impossible to follow, as you rush from one scene and one set of characters to another. The movie cut BK down to pretty much Dmitri and his story, and was at least able to make that work. The other brothers come off more as minor players (which is unfortunate, but necessary), and they mess up the ending (which was both unfortunate and unnecessary). It also emphasizes the love triangle thing a little too much. It becomes almost a soap opera at times (she loves him, but he's in love with someone else! Oh, no!). But, overall, it followed the plot and was very watchable.


I just started reading Book II and I find the meeting in the monastery to be quite hysterical.

I loved this passage, because I agree, I think that those who have a tendency to take offence as everything, do it because they simply enjoy being offended, it makes them feel self-important.

That's a good quotation to start off with. It's a funny piece of Fyodor's buffoonery, but there's also a serious point being made. So much of what the story will hinge upon is the idea of intention, and the father is giving a little insight into how that works. Throughout the novel, characters will claim or act as though there's some one-to-one relationship between cause and effect, intention and action; yet, what the novel portrays time and again is that there is no one single impulse behind an action, but rather a range of possible actions that characters choose among for many reasons. For example, when Dostoevsky compares Smerdyakov with a peasant depicted in a certain painting he gives the reader a range of different possible outcomes for these characters rather than a single fate:


He stands, as it were, lost in thought. Yet he is not thinking; he is "contemplating." If any one touched him he start and look at one as though awakening and bewildered. . . . if he were asked what he had been thing about, he would remember nothing. Yet probably he has hidden with himself, the impression which had dominated him during the period of contemplation, Those impression are dear to him and no doubt he hoards them imperceptibly, and even unconsciously. . . . He may suddenly, after hording impressions for many years, abandon everything and go off to Jerusalem on a pilgrimage for his soul's salvation, or perhaps he will suddenly set fire to his native village, and perhaps do both. There are a good many "contemplatives" among the peasantry. Well, Smerdyakov was most likely one of them, and he most likely was greedily hoarding up his impression, hardly knowing why. (BK, 150)

Again, it's not a one-to-one relationship between "hoarding up his impressions" and an action. Rather, there's a range of possible actions that Dostoevsky relates to us subjunctively with "perhaps" this and "perhaps" that. This character can burn a village or take a pilgrimage. Or, he can do both. There's a range of possibilities here.

Similarly, in the bit of dialogue from the father, Fyodor shows that it isn't simply an offense is given and then an offense is taken, but rather that possibility of taking an offense is opened up and then a person chooses to be offended for a variety of reasons. This distinction becomes key later on in the book. For more on this reading, you could look Gary Morson's book Narrative and Freedom (1994). He spells this out more clearly than I can in a few hundred words.

[victorianfan]

I saw that a while back ago. Funny, I never even noticed Shatner (talk about a different role for him). The cast was good, though. The actor they got for Dmitri was excellent. I had always imagined Dmitri as a larger, more imposing presence, but I think the movie did a great job capturing his intensity. The movie avoided the usual pitfall for adaptations: trying to show everything the novel showed. So often that makes adaptations impossible to follow, as you rush from one scene and one set of characters to another. The movie cut BK down to pretty much Dmitri and his story, and was at least able to make that work. The other brothers come off more as minor players (which is unfortunate, but necessary), and they mess up the ending (which was both unfortunate and unnecessary). It also emphasizes the love triangle thing a little too much. It becomes almost a soap opera at times (she loves him, but he's in love with someone else! Oh, no!). But, overall, it followed the plot and was very watchable.

Although I like Yul Brynner very much, I don't think he was cut for the role of Dmitri. Yul's posture is too dignified, too proud. It isn't the way I pictured Dmitri at all. For me, Dmitri is an uncontrollable, impulsive and foolish man.

Anyway, as I see it, through 4 brothers Dostoevsky tried to depicture 4 different life paths:

Dmitri - "the way of the animal"; food, sex and violence :biggrin5: which leads to destruction of self or others

Ivan - the way of the mind; rationalizing everything and everyone which leads to madness

Aleksey - the way of faith and human compassion

Smerdyakov - nihilisim

[papayahed]

Ack!!! I think my book is buried in my storage closet. I know I bought it for the last go around but now I can't find it.

[Gilliatt Gurgle]

I wanted to pass on a word on encouragement and a feeling of envy.
Having just completed TBK this past April, I can tell you from experience, you will enjoy it immensely. I posted a small blurb under "Finally Finished".

Beginning with the Constance Garnett translation, I was soon swayed to the Pevear/ Volokhonsky translation by various comments posted in the Forums and from various articles.
At the same time, I likely would have been none the wiser given my rudimentary knowledge of literature and the ability to discern such differences.

http://www.nytimes.com/1990/11/11/books/dostoyevsky-with-all-the-music.html?pagewanted=2

Upon completing the novel, you may celebrate as I did in the appropriate fashion:

http://i963.photobucket.com/albums/ae114/tabuka1/IMG_1470.jpg


Enjoy the read.


Gilliatt

[Dark Muse]

That's a good quotation to start off with. It's a funny piece of Fyodor's buffoonery, but there's also a serious point being made. So much of what the story will hinge upon is the idea of intention, and the father is giving a little insight into how that works. Throughout the novel, characters will claim or act as though there's some one-to-one relationship between cause and effect, intention and action; yet, what the novel portrays time and again is that there is no one single impulse behind an action, but rather a range of possible actions that characters choose among for many reasons. For example, when Dostoevsky compares Smerdyakov with a peasant depicted in a certain painting he gives the reader a range of different possible outcomes for these characters rather than a single fate:


Similarly, in the bit of dialogue from the father, Fyodor shows that it isn't simply an offense is given and then an offense is taken, but rather that possibility of taking an offense is opened up and then a person chooses to be offended for a variety of reasons. This distinction becomes key later on in the book. For more on this reading, you could look Gary Morson's book Narrative and Freedom (1994). He spells this out more clearly than I can in a few hundred words.


This makes me think of the incident in which takes place by Fyodor and his son Dmitri. When Dmitiri finally arrives at the monetary and he begins an argument with his father. Though he claims that he knows his father is just trying to make a scene, and that is the whole purpose for him bringing them all there in the first place, and he claims that he is not going to allow his father to get away with it, he ultimately enables his father to do just that.

In spite of the fact that he says he knows his father just wants to cause trouble he still allows himself to be offended by what his father says, and further more persists to argue back with his father, when if he truly wanted to prevent a scene, he could have just ignored his father, or simply turned around and left.

But he chooses to engage his father in the dispute and thus he himself ends up creating the scene in which he states that his father wants to do, and of which he says he will prevent his father from doing.

[Quark]

Although I like Yul Brynner very much, I don't think he was cut for the role of Dmitri. Yul's posture is too dignified, too proud. It isn't the way I pictured Dmitri at all. For me, Dmitri is an uncontrollable, impulsive and foolish man.

No, Brynner (was it really Yul Brynner? I'm so bad at pointing out actors in movies) doesn't really match the image of Dmitri I had in my head, either. You're right that he's too stiff for the part. After all, it's Dmitri's impulsiveness that his father uses to get the better of him for most of the novel. But, at the same time, I think Brynner does a good job of playing what I called Dmitri's "intensity." Dmitri also has a sense of honor. He gets into duels and takes the most offense at the father's antics. Dmitri's a military man, and is quick to action. That part of his character sometimes gets lost when the narrator keeps shaking his head at Dmitri's foolishness and, as it's phrased in the novel, "debauchery." The film brought that out a little more.


Ack!!! I think my book is buried in my storage closet. I know I bought it for the last go around but now I can't find it.

Check under the sofa cushions.


This makes me think of the incident in which takes place by Fyodor and his son Dmitri. When Dmitiri finally arrives at the monetary and he begins an argument with his father. Though he claims that he knows his father is just trying to make a scene, and that is the whole purpose for him bringing them all there in the first place, and he claims that he is not going to allow his father to get away with it, he ultimately enables his father to do just that.

It's been a while since I've read the novel, but, yeah, I think that's the case in the opening episode with the father. Fyodor isn't the only one responsible for his outbursts. Dmitri helps to get the father an audience, the audience gives Fyodor the attention he wants, and then once that's all in place does Fyodor make an *** of himself. It's not just the actor that's responsible. All the people who make the situation available also have something to do with the action. How much they have to do with it is questionable, but the novel wants to suggest that there's some responsibility people have to the possibilities they open up and not just the actions they commit.

[Dark Muse]

It's been a while since I've read the novel, but, yeah, I think that's the case in the opening episode with the father. Fyodor isn't the only one responsible for his outbursts. Dmitri helps to get the father an audience, the audience gives Fyodor the attention he wants, and then once that's all in place does Fyodor make an *** of himself. It's not just the actor that's responsible. All the people who make the situation available also have something to do with the action. How much they have to do with it is questionable, but the novel wants to suggest that there's some responsibility people have to the possibilities they open up and not just the actions they commit.

I love Fyodor. Probably would not want to hang out with him, but he cracks me up. He is hysterical. Yes I agree that there is a suggestion of shared reasonability within the book. Everyone knows how Fyodor is, and what he is like and no one is surprised by his outbursts and yet they still both getting angry with him when he is just being himself.

Like Miosov when he made that whole scene about how he wasn't going to go to dinner if Fyodor was going, but he knew from the beginning how Fyodor was going to act, and he still went with him just so he could act offended and ashamed by his company.

It is kind of like watching a train wreck. They don't really want to be involved it, but none of them can stop themselves from wanting to watch, but then try to act like they are really ashamed about being there.

[Quark]

It is kind of like watching a train wreck.

If you like train wrecks, you should read Notes from the Underground. That's Dostoevsky's best disaster case, if you ask me. The narrator tries to play the genius, but ends up making an idiot of himself at every turn. It's cringingly funny at times.

[Dark Muse]

If you like train wrecks, you should read Notes from the Underground. That's Dostoevsky's best disaster case, if you ask me. The narrator tries to play the genius, but ends up making an idiot of himself at every turn. It's cringingly funny at times.

I have read it, and I loved and I loved the narrator. It was quite sardonicaly funny.

[victorianfan]

It seems to me that in Fyodor and Dmitri's case we can use the phrase: like father, like son. The only difference is in the fact that Fyodor is cunning and Dmitri is frank.

[victorianfan]

No, Brynner (was it really Yul Brynner? I'm so bad at pointing out actors in movies) doesn't really match the image of Dmitri I had in my head, either. You're right that he's too stiff for the part. After all, it's Dmitri's impulsiveness that his father uses to get the better of him for most of the novel. But, at the same time, I think Brynner does a good job of playing what I called Dmitri's "intensity." Dmitri also has a sense of honor. He gets into duels and takes the most offense at the father's antics. Dmitri's a military man, and is quick to action. That part of his character sometimes gets lost when the narrator keeps shaking his head at Dmitri's foolishness and, as it's phrased in the novel, "debauchery." The film brought that out a little more.

Yes, I agree with you on Dmitri's sense of honour, however, Brynner acts like a king or pharaoh (remember his role as Ramses II) with every move, every gesture being hardly thought of, Dmitri is a way much "simplier soul".

[Quark]

It seems to me that in Fyodor and Dmitri's case we can use the phrase: like father, like son. The only difference is in the fact that Fyodor is cunning and Dmitri is frank.

That's a good way of summing up their personalities. I would caution people, though, from viewing Dmitri as a duplication of Fyodor. To completely understand why I think you have to look at nineteenth century fiction as a whole. The money-grubbing, selfish, ineffectual father is a figure that comes up again and again. You can see him in Stendhal's Red and the Black, Balzac's Lost Illusions, Dickens' Dombey and Son. Or, if the father isn't ineffectual, he's nonexistent. The orphan literature of the nineteenth-century is immense. Part of the reason (and I stress that this is only part) is that by having the father fail to give a place for his children, the child then has to rely on institutions and to some extent his or her own will. This is perfect for novels that want to explore society (as Realist fiction frequently does). It gets the children out of the house. Dmitri is one of those children that has to leave and attach himself to some institution. In this case, it's the army. By necessity, then, he has to live a much different life than the father. Even though Dmitri inherits many traits from his father, I think he ends up becoming a little different through the course of his life which takes him away from his father.


Yes, I agree with you on Dmitri's sense of honour, however, Brynner acts like a king or pharaoh (remember his role as Ramses II) with every move, every gesture being hardly thought of, Dmitri is a way much "simplier soul".

Yeah, definitely. I remember Dmitri laughing frequently in the book, but I don't think Brynner even gives a smile.

[MUMUKSHA]

Well, I just managed to start with it recently. I've liked whatever I've read so far but it's still not enough to comment about or discuss. So I'll get back to this discussion when I have really got something to say about it.

[Virgil]

I am holding off commenting to give people a chance to read. Since I may be flying home early next week, I'll probably jump into the conversation in about a week from today. :)

[Janine]

Oh wow, Quark and Virgil (among other good discussers) are in the discussion this time. I will have to make a real effort here to listen to my podcast of the novel. I also have the novel in print to refer back to. With Walden and Alice in Wonderland going on at the same time I hope I can keep the stories straight. However I have them all on podcasts so I am set. I only listened to one chapter of each book so far....so it might take me awhile to complete all three.

[ktm5124]

Dmitri is especially full of laughter in the interrogation scene (I am in the Third Torment right now). Does Brynner possess the same mirth during this scene in the movie?


That's a good way of summing up their personalities. I would caution people, though, from viewing Dmitri as a duplication of Fyodor. To completely understand why I think you have to look at nineteenth century fiction as a whole. The money-grubbing, selfish, ineffectual father is a figure that comes up again and again. You can see him in Stendhal's Red and the Black, Balzac's Lost Illusions, Dickens' Dombey and Son. Or, if the father isn't ineffectual, he's nonexistent. The orphan literature of the nineteenth-century is immense. Part of the reason (and I stress that this is only part) is that by having the father fail to give a place for his children, the child then has to rely on institutions and to some extent his or her own will. This is perfect for novels that want to explore society (as Realist fiction frequently does). It gets the children out of the house. Dmitri is one of those children that has to leave and attach himself to some institution. In this case, it's the army. By necessity, then, he has to live a much different life than the father. Even though Dmitri inherits many traits from his father, I think he ends up becoming a little different through the course of his life which takes him away from his father.


Very interesting. Indeed, I have read three Dickens novels and all three feature orphans as main characters - Great Expectations, David Copperfield, and Hard Times. And as Dickens is a well-known satirist and critic of society, it would seem that the orphan, as you say, would be an effective vehicle for his criticism.

At the same time, I prefer not to think of Fyodor as an archetypal character, because at least from my own breadth of reading he seems to be quite an original personality - his buffoonery, that is. When I came to the scene in elder Zosima's cell, I thought to myself: this guy's quite a character. And he has continued to amuse me as an original character ever since. The way he loses his wits around Grushenka still has me in fits...

[OrphanPip]

David Copperfield isn't an orphan though, he has a strained relationship with his step-father and attends a boarding school, but isn't an orphan. Although, I think the absentee father, dead in this case, functions in the same way. Though, I think Copperfield is less about society and more about how an individual defines themselves. Remember the opening line of David Copperfield: "Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show."

Anyway, on topic I would be interested in discussing the "Parable of the Grand Inquisitor" told by Ivan to Alyosha when more people have read that far. I think it's one of the more interesting parts of the novel.

[DoCho]

Woah, this is fortunate, I just started reading this book two days ago.

[spookymulder93]

I just started reading it today and I'm only 60 pages in but so far it's a good read. I like the way Dostoevsky tells the story. I though this was going to be like a totally serious book but there is a lot of humor here.

Fyodor is epic. The Man has caused the deaths of 2 women without even physically harming them and even forgot he had kids. Acting like your foolish than you really are can be funny at times so I can see where he's coming from.

[Quark]

I also have the novel in print to refer back to. With Walden and Alice in Wonderland going on at the same time I hope I can keep the stories straight.

You're reading Walden, Janine? I wouldn't have thought you would go in for Thoreau. Good luck with the podcasts. I would assume that the audio would be helpful for dialogue in the novel (of which there is quite a lot).


Dmitri is especially full of laughter in the interrogation scene (I am in the Third Torment right now). Does Brynner possess the same mirth during this scene in the movie?

In a word, no.


At the same time, I prefer not to think of Fyodor as an archetypal character, because at least from my own breadth of reading he seems to be quite an original personality - his buffoonery, that is. When I came to the scene in elder Zosima's cell, I thought to myself: this guy's quite a character. And he has continued to amuse me as an original character ever since. The way he loses his wits around Grushenka still has me in fits...

No, I don't mean to say that Fyodor's is just some stock character without a life of his own. Really, I was trying to talk about Dmitri and why, while sharing some traits with Fyodor, he ends up a different person. Maybe the point is more commonsensical than I was making it. All I was going for is the fact that Fyodor doesn't provide a place in the world for his sons, so they have to forge their own path--often allying themselves with institutions other than the family. Ivan goes off to university and becomes an intellectual. Aloysha join the monestary as a novice. Dmitri--even though being very much like his father--leaves and joins the military. With a set up like this I think we have to take the sons not simply as personalities, but also as people who have lived lives and have certain allegiances. The paths of their lives lead them into connections with other groups and that affects their identity. In this sense, we can't just take Dmitri or any of the sons as just random people. They also represent the groups they've come across. Clearly Ivan is not just a singular creature. Dostoevsky uses his character to cover a whole range of practices that are certainly not just limited to his one fictional intellectual. The idea is that these are things that are widespread. This goes for each of the brothers. In post #21 back on page 1 I quoted a description of Smerdyakov that links him with a wide swath of Russian society: the peasantry: "There are a good many "contemplatives" among the peasantry. Well, Smerdyakov was most likely one of them" (150). Again, I don't mean to suggest that the characters are just types and that they don't have any life of their own. I just think you have to acknowledge that Dostoevsky (or at least his narrator) means these characters to resonate with existing types (or possibile types) of people in Russian society.


Though, I think Copperfield is less about society and more about how an individual defines themselves. Remember the opening line of David Copperfield: "Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show."

Well, David Copperfield is one of those works that you could say is about anything and everything. While certainly having something to do with autobiography, psychology, and just David's personality, it's also about child labor (David in the warehouse), marriage (David evolving notion of it from Dora to Agnes), the carcareal (David's friend and benefactor is placed in a debtor's prison). All of this is pretty topical stuff for the time. It's not just meant to be about the fictional character David, but is supposed to resonate with Dickens' readers' idea of society.


Anyway, on topic I would be interested in discussing the "Parable of the Grand Inquisitor" told by Ivan to Alyosha when more people have read that far. I think it's one of the more interesting parts of the novel.

That might be out of step with Virgil's good suggestion that we discuss the story beginning at the start and moving on toward the conclusion. If you put a spoiler tag on it, though, I'd be willing to entertain conversation about that rather famous part of the story.

[_Shannon_]

Alrighty--just finished my other book and have started reading! I'll probably be a lot slower than most of you, since it seems like the bulk of my reading seems to be done right now in the bathroom, where no kids will be...:D

[Dark Muse]

I find the relationship between Alyosha and Fyodor to be rather interesting, and curious. I would have thought with Fyodor's lifestyle, and religious views that he would have been more scornful of Alyosha's chaste and virtuous life, his faith and his entering into monastery life, it seems that Alyosha is the only person whom Fyodor has any genuine adoration for.

Does Fyodor have such affection for Alyosha because of the fact that he knows Alyosha is not "threat" to him, he knows that Aloysha is not after any of his money, and that Alyosha certainly would not get into any squabbles with him over women. While his other sons have their own agendas, Alyosha does not seem to actually want anything of his father nor try to make any demands of him.

[Quark]

I'll probably be a lot slower than most of you, since it seems like the bulk of my reading seems to be done right now in the bathroom, where no kids will be...:D

Does that mean you're also typing from the bathroom? That kind of weirds me out, Shannon.


I find the relationship between Alyosha and Fyodor to be rather interesting, and curious. I would have thought with Fyodor's lifestyle, and religious views that he would have been more scornful of Alyosha's chaste and virtuous life, his faith and his entering into monastery life, it seems that Alyosha is the only person whom Fyodor has any genuine adoration for.

That's an interesting question. I'll have to go back to the text to find a good answer, but off the top of my head I remember that there's an attraction of opposites that's common in this book. Smerdyakov, the stupid servant (although this comes into question somewhat later on), is attracted to Ivan, the intellectual. Dmitri, while being incredibly dissolute himself, is attracted to high-minded poetry (this comes out later) and high-minded women (Katya, at least initially). Fyodor may be curious about his opposite in Aloysha.

[Dark Muse]

That's an interesting question. I'll have to go back to the text to find a good answer, but off the top of my head I remember that there's an attraction of opposites that's common in this book. Smerdyakov, the stupid servant (although this comes into question somewhat later on), is attracted to Ivan, the intellectual. Dmitri, while being incredibly dissolute himself, is attracted to high-minded poetry (this comes out later) and high-minded women (Katya, at least initially). Fyodor may be curious about his opposite in Aloysha.

I had considered the opposite posibility as well. That is a reoccuring theme which shows itself throughout the book in varrious different ways. In speaking of this attraction of opposites I find Katarina a bit annoying in her devotion to Dimitri.

[Ulyanov]

I started the Brothers K two months ago but left it in the states with one quarter of it read. I recently was able to retrieve it once again and due to the fact that my brain leaks, start over. I am now inspired.

[_Shannon_]

Does that mean you're also typing from the bathroom? That kind of weirds me out, Shannon.
.

:nod::leaving:

(LOL! Not really...I usually post while baby holding.)

Just a few chapters in by I like the whimsical feel to the narration, the "sit down and let me tell you this yarn" feel to it. I also like the juxtaposition of that style to what is being said--I feel like you're being told some things which would, if written in another tone, make you indignant.

[Quark]

I find Katarina a bit annoying in her devotion to Dimitri.

If you don't like her now, get ready to be very annoyed by the end of the novel.


Just a few chapters in by I like the whimsical feel to the narration, the "sit down and let me tell you this yarn" feel to it. I also like the juxtaposition of that style to what is being said--I feel like you're being told some things which would, if written in another tone, make you indignant.

Yeah, the narrator's casualness relaxes the readers somewhat. I also think it clues you into how the story is going to progress. If the narrator is just a townsperson looking on, then we know that this very personal story about this family is going to have to explode out into the public at some point. If this stayed private, this narration would be impossible. Having this kind of person tell us the story is weak foreshadow of the plot's trajectory.

[spookymulder93]

Just finished Part 1. It's a pretty good read. Nothing life changing so far though. Haven't really connected with any of the characters. I hope this book lives up to its reputation. I know since I'm only 215 pages in a 1045 page novel that this is only the beginning.

[ktm5124]

Ah, I just read about the character Kolya! I love him, he's hilarious!

[wessexgirl]

Ooh, I'll be very interested in this discussion, as I bought the book a while back, (I think it might be the P&V translation) and have also downloaded it on audio. As I still haven't finished Our Mutual Friend though :blush5: I'm not going to commit myself to joining in, but I will keep a very interested eye on the chat. I liked the sound of it from the audio sample I had, as the narrator sounded quite sardonic. As a lot of you have said, there seems to be quite a bit of humour, which I don't think is always the first thing that springs to mind when you think of Dostoevsky.

[Dark Muse]

It seems to me that in Fyodor and Dmitri's case we can use the phrase: like father, like son. The only difference is in the fact that Fyodor is cunning and Dmitri is frank.

At this point, the more I read of the novel the more that I am inclined to take that view of things. Dmitri seems to be a mirror image of his father, if anything I think Dmitri might be even more of a lunatic than Fyodor is.

Ha they are even fighting over the same woman!

They are both given to erupting into fits of passion, though with Fyodor he seems to do it with intent for the pure sake of creating a scene, like when he actually arranges the meeting in the monastery and got everyone together and than began to act up, but Dmitri on the other hand seems to lack actual control over himself. He seems to just lash out without even knowing himself why he does it, or without reason.

[Rores28]

but I have to say Dostoevsky is not what I had expected just from whatever nebulous murmurings I had heard about him. I'm pretty surprised at the Soap-Operaishness of the plot as well as the comedy. I also expected it to be written in a more difficult manner and to basically be drowning me in moral philosophy.

[ktm5124]

At this point, the more I read of the novel the more that I am inclined to take that view of things. Dmitri seems to be a mirror image of his father, if anything I think Dmitri might be even more of a lunatic than Fyodor is.

Ha they are even fighting over the same woman!

They are both given to erupting into fits of passion, though with Fyodor he seems to do it with intent for the pure sake of creating a scene, like when he actually arranges the meeting in the monastery and got everyone together and than began to act up, but Dmitri on the other hand seems to lack actual control over himself. He seems to just lash out without even knowing himself why he does it, or without reason.

I think one of the key differences between them is their views on God. Dmitri solemnly believes in God, whereas Fyodor, whether or not he is a believer, approaches the matter with much levity.

Dmitri also values nobility almost above all else, whereas Fyodor couldn't care less about it.

They are both scoundrels, but they are very different types of scoundrels :-) I think Ivan actually more closely resembles his father than Dmitri.

[Dark Muse]

I think one of the key differences between them is their views on God. Dmitri solemnly believes in God, whereas Fyodor, whether or not he is a believer, approaches the matter with much levity.

Dmitri also values nobility almost above all else, whereas Fyodor couldn't care less about it.

They are both scoundrels, but they are very different types of scoundrels :-) I think Ivan actually more closely resembles his father than Dmitri.

Ivan maybe be more like Fyodor in his view points, but it seems to me that behavior wise Ivan is by far more rational than Fyodor or Dmitri, and he seems to be the sanest member of his family.

While Aloysha is certainly more virtuous than the others, he is something of a zealot, and has found what may seem to be a more worthy outlet for his eccentric energy, than chasing women, causing scenes and getting into fights.

[ktm5124]

Ivan maybe be more like Fyodor in his view points, but it seems to me that behavior wise Ivan is by far more rational than Fyodor or Dmitri, and he seems to be the sanest member of his family.

While Aloysha is certainly more virtuous than the others, he is something of a zealot, and has found what may seem to be a more worthy outlet for his eccentric energy, than chasing women, causing scenes and getting into fights.

I am not sure whether you are saying that Alyosha is over-religious, over-zealous. Dostoevsky happened to be very religious himself - Catholic, I believe - so I'm sure his sympathies would lie more with the zealous Alyosha than the atheist Ivan. The problem with Ivan is that he is too rational; his reason obscures his feelings. I think perhaps a point of the novel is that there is more truth in feelings than in reason.

[Virgil]

I am not sure whether you are saying that Alyosha is over-religious, over-zealous. Dostoevsky happened to be very religious himself - Catholic, I believe - so I'm sure his sympathies would lie more with the zealous Alyosha than the atheist Ivan.
Dostevesky was Russian Orthodox, not Catholic.



The problem with Ivan is that he is too rational; his reason obscures his feelings. I think perhaps a point of the novel is that there is more truth in feelings than in reason.
I take Ivan to be an agnostic, not an atheists and frankly by the end of the novel I think he's more of a believer than not.

I'm almost ready to start joing the discussion. Sorry it's taking me so long.

[Dark Muse]

I am not sure whether you are saying that Alyosha is over-religious, over-zealous. Dostoevsky happened to be very religious himself - Catholic, I believe - so I'm sure his sympathies would lie more with the zealous Alyosha than the atheist Ivan. The problem with Ivan is that he is too rational; his reason obscures his feelings. I think perhaps a point of the novel is that there is more truth in feelings than in reason.

I would not call Aloysha over religious per sae, but he is a bit zealous. For one thing I think he is way too concerned with the love lives of his brothers, which in itself is a bit amusing considering he is a monk and yet he wants to play match-maker, and decide who should be with who and get involved in thier amorous affairs.

I do like Aloysha but he seems to be the exact opposite of Ivan, where you criticize Ivan's rationality obscuring his feelings, Aloysha is too much dependent purely upon his feeling.

He also seems to have the "Sins of the father" mentality. He believes that there is some burden or wickedness in his own soul simply because he is a Karamazov. It seems almost as if he locked himself in the monastery to protect himself because he believes that he was born with some natural instinct to wickedness so he cut himself off from the world to save himself.

He questions his own beleif in God purely based upon his family name.

[spookymulder93]

Just read the Grand Inquisitor.


Do you think he had a point? Did Jesus give man too much credit?

[ktm5124]

I would not call Aloysha over religious per sae, but he is a bit zealous. For one thing I think he is way too concerned with the love lives of his brothers, which in itself is a bit amusing considering he is a monk and yet he wants to play match-maker, and decide who should be with who and get involved in thier amorous affairs.

I do like Aloysha but he seems to be the exact opposite of Ivan, where you criticize Ivan's rationality obscuring his feelings, Aloysha is too much dependent purely upon his feeling.

He also seems to have the "Sins of the father" mentality. He believes that there is some burden or wickedness in his own soul simply because he is a Karamazov. It seems almost as if he locked himself in the monastery to protect himself because he believes that he was born with some natural instinct to wickedness so he cut himself off from the world to save himself.

He questions his own beleif in God purely based upon his family name.

I wasn't a fan of Alyosha at the start, and happened to feel the same way, but then he grew on me later on in the novel. I think it was when I started to see the way he affects others, and how others respect him, that he grew on me. In particular, the way the children respect him made a large impression on me.


Dostevesky was Russian Orthodox, not Catholic.



I take Ivan to be an agnostic, not an atheists and frankly by the end of the novel I think he's more of a believer than not.

I'm almost ready to start joing the discussion. Sorry it's taking me so long.

Oh, thanks for the correction, that's good to know. I see what you mean about Ivan, now that I'm nearing the end of the novel.


Just read the Grand Inquisitor.


Do you think he had a point? Did Jesus give man too much credit?

One thing I did not understand about that chapter is when Ivan says "it's not that I do not believe in God, it's that I don't accept the world he gave us" or something like that. (I'm sure I've butchered the sentiment quite much here...) What do you think it means to not accept the world?

[spookymulder93]

I think what Ivan is saying is that he doesn't like the way that God decided for us to live. Like instead of free will God could have just told us what to do and made us all happy. If we never knew pain, suffering, loss, etc then how could we ever miss it.

[Dark Muse]

I wasn't a fan of Alyosha at the start, and happened to feel the same way, but then he grew on me later on in the novel. I think it was when I started to see the way he affects others, and how others respect him, that he grew on me. In particular, the way the children respect him made a large impression on me.

Oh I don't dislike Aloysha, I was not saying what I said as way of criticizing him. In spite of, or because of his flaws, or eccentricities, or whatever you may like to call them, I have always liked them, even if I do think he should spend less time worrying about his brothers love relations.


He struck me as being a bit naive about children, particularly in that whole rock throwing incident, and when he was gushing over how he thinks school boys are like the best thing in the world..

[Dark Muse]

I take Ivan to be an agnostic, not an atheists and frankly by the end of the novel I think he's more of a believer than not

Yes I would agree that Ivan strikes me as being more agnostic as I am reading his conversation with Aloysha within the tavern.

He does not deny the existence of God but simply rejects the idea of contemplating upon weather or not God does in fact exist. He recognizes the inadequacy of the human mind to contemplating or understand the concept of God and thus he sees no good in attempting to do so. He simply accepts it for what it is and it is irrelevant to him if as he put it "Man created God or God created Man"

Or at the very least he sees no purpose or point in trying to prove which side is correct.

[ktm5124]

I find it very enlightening how Dostoevsky debates the question of God. The Russia that he shows us seems to be on the cusp of a religious crisis - several characters in the novel question the existence of God, and flip-flop on the issue (for instance, Madame Khoklakov changes her mind quite a few times). There is the "everything is permitted contingent" - Ivan, Smerdyakov - the intellectual atheist - Rakitin - and the zealous few such as Alyosha, Zosima, and the monks. But the author's sympathies seem to lie with the believers. After all, elder Zosima's prophecy comes true, Alyosha is the hero of the novel, Ivan is plagued by his reason, etc etc. Those who are godless (Rakitin, Smerdyakov) are all besmirched. One could take from the novel a sophisticated defense of religion, as well as an attempt by Dostoevsky to halt an atheistic trend in Russia.

I have my reservations, though, since I have not yet even finished the novel, and I know very little about Russia in those times.

[Virgil]

I find it very enlightening how Dostoevsky debates the question of God. The Russia that he shows us seems to be on the cusp of a religious crisis - several characters in the novel question the existence of God, and flip-flop on the issue (for instance, Madame Khoklakov changes her mind quite a few times). There is the "everything is permitted contingent" - Ivan, Smerdyakov - the intellectual atheist - Rakitin - and the zealous few such as Alyosha, Zosima, and the monks. But the author's sympathies seem to lie with the believers. After all, elder Zosima's prophecy comes true, Alyosha is the hero of the novel, Ivan is plagued by his reason, etc etc. Those who are godless (Rakitin, Smerdyakov) are all besmirched. One could take from the novel a sophisticated defense of religion, as well as an attempt by Dostoevsky to halt an atheistic trend in Russia.

I have my reservations, though, since I have not yet even finished the novel, and I know very little about Russia in those times.

No question Dostevesky's sympathies are with Alyosha and the believers. Rakitin and Smerdyakov come across as detestable at best and of course worse. The question I have is whether Dostevesky's theology is the same as Zosima's. Or is it more complex?

[Dark Muse]

Dostoyevsky's sympathies might lie with Aloysha, and while I do not dislike Aloysha, as the story progresses up to the point I am at, I am starting to like Ivan more and more. Probably because he is so cynical.

I do agree that the way the question of Religion is presented within the book and seeing the various different characters struggle with their own beliefs and view of religion is quite interesting, and I do most enjoy Ivan's arguments on the issue.

The only thing I want to know, is why are most the women in the story so obnoxious and why do they all run around acting like a bunch of children.

Does it have to do with the Patriarchal mind set of the time period and the religion?

[Quark]

I have my reservations, though, since I have not yet even finished the novel, and I know very little about Russia in those times.

Maybe not, but what you wrote was pretty accurate. Much of the Ivan-Zossima conflict is a reproduction of then contemporary differences of opinion. Even parts of the story that seem like they must be creations of only Dostoevsky (like Ivan's brush with the supernatural) actually come from discussions going on during the time the novel was being written. You can uncover a lot of this by reading Dostoevsky's A Writers Diary which was written around the time he was composing this novel.


Dostoyevsky's sympathies might lie with Aloysha, and while I do not dislike Aloysha, as the story progresses up to the point I am at, I am starting to like Ivan more and more. Probably because he is so cynical.

Yeah, Aloysha is supposed to be the hero, but he's a little difficult to relate to as he doesn't seem to have much of an inner life. For much of the novel, his opinions come across more as verdicts than anything else, and that closes down the scenes he's in considerably. Alyosha has an occasional brush with doubt or a moment of contemplation, but most of the time it seems like he already knows what to believe instinctively and that makes him somewhat uninteresting compared to Ivan. The other brothers have ideas and feelings that come across as partial and evolving which makes them more dynamic and interesting.


The only thing I want to know, is why are most the women in the story so obnoxious and why do they all run around acting like a bunch of children.

Does it have to do with the Patriarchal mind set of the time period and the religion?

That's a big question. Time period is probably the best single answer, but, even for 19th century Russia, Dostoevsky isn't particularly flattering to women. Not much later, Chekhov starts writing and his women are far more respectable.


No question Dostevesky's sympathies are with Alyosha and the believers. Rakitin and Smerdyakov come across as detestable at best and of course worse. The question I have is whether Dostevesky's theology is the same as Zosima's. Or is it more complex?

*Spoilers*

Well, Zosima's theology is rather incomplete and it doesn't fully match Alyosha's. Zosima seems to stress the omnipresence of sin and the final moment of salvation, but his theology doesn't take anything into account between those two points. The fact that he admits sin exists is supposed to be an improvement over Ivan, but we're still not quite where the novel wants us to be. If we took Zosima's views as the final thoughts on religion then we probably wouldn't be able to explain why Alyosha tells Ivan that he isn't responsible for Fyodor's death. After all, Zosima's story is all about how anyone who sets up the conditions for a sin to be committed has also sinned. Alyosha's theology, though, moves beyond Zosima's vision of shared guilt and a distant salvation. Alyosha shows that every moment counts--not just some big moment when the monks will show everyone the image of Christ. Instead, the last speech in the novel argues that simple memories of goodness and love from the past (not some mythical Christ-image in the future) are what matters. That's why Alyosha works with children. He's trying to establish those memories that will keep people virtuous even when they're tempted by circumstances. In Zosima's universe, if you're tempted by circumstances or have contributed to those circumstances you've already sinned. Alyosha, though, recognizes that all the children will get caught up in circumstances like those in the novel. What's important is how they respond. This is why Ivan isn't guilty. He contributed to the death of Fyodor (like so many did), but since he wasn't drawn into actually murdering the man he isn't guilty.

In this sense, Zosima's theology is a stepping stone between Ivan's and Alyosha's.

[Dark Muse]

That's a big question. Time period is probably the best single answer, but, even for 19th century Russia, Dostoevsky isn't particularly flattering to women. Not much later, Chekhov starts writing and his women are far more respectable.

The way the majority of the female characters are portrayed it does seem as if they are being cast in the typical stereotype of women of the 19th century in which women were as a rule viewed as being like children, and not seen to possess much intellect but seen more as creatures of feeling.

But even so there are many works of the 19th century that challenge these ideas in thier portrayal of women, but there is almost that sense that Dostoevsky simply lacks an understanding of women.

[OrphanPip]

I think what Ivan is saying is that he doesn't like the way that God decided for us to live. Like instead of free will God could have just told us what to do and made us all happy. If we never knew pain, suffering, loss, etc then how could we ever miss it.

At it's most basic Dostoyevksy is just being blatantly anti-Catholic.

The parable I think is discussing tensions between institutions that regulate faith and the nature of faith as being fundamentally about free will (according to Dostoyevsky I think). It would be difficult for Dostoyevsky to criticize institutionalized religion in Russia, so the ever hated Catholic church is easier for him to attack even though it's simple enough to level the same kind of criticisms on the Russian Orthodoxy.

The first part of the parable involves the appearance of Christ at the auto de fe in Seville. The crowds recognize him, but the Grand Inquisitor makes it clear that his power over the people is absolute. Here we have an explicit position of the Inquisitor, I think as a representative of organized religion, standing directly in the way of the "truth," or rather the personal faith of the believers.

The second part is the Grand Inquisitors little speech about the relationship between happiness and free will. It seems that Ivan's opinion is that God giving people free will has made life more difficult; that requiring people to have faith without proof was cruelty because they now have to decide for themselves. There's an echo of this in Notes from Underground, but unlike Ivan the Underground Man cherishes the freedom that causes so much trouble: "two and two is five can also be a wonderful thing." (paraphrased)


The way the majority of the female characters are portrayed it does seem as if they are being cast in the typical stereotype of women of the 19th century in which women were as a rule viewed as being like children, and not seen to possess much intellect but seen more as creatures of feeling.

But even so there are many works of the 19th century that challenge these ideas in thier portrayal of women, but there is almost that sense that Dostoevsky simply lacks an understanding of women.

That's probably a fair thing to say, whenever he does give women more prominent roles in his novels they always seem to be prostitutes. Although, to be fair the spread of Liberal ideas about women arrived later in Russia than they did in France and England.

[Virgil]

At it's most basic Dostoyevksy is just being blatantly anti-Catholic.

The parable I think is discussing tensions between institutions that regulate faith and the nature of faith as being fundamentally about free will (according to Dostoyevsky I think). It would be difficult for Dostoyevsky to criticize institutionalized religion in Russia, so the ever hated Catholic church is easier for him to attack even though it's simple enough to level the same kind of criticisms on the Russian Orthodoxy.


I hadn't considered his anti-Catholicism as an indirect way to attack the Russian Church. I assume that's possible, though I don't recall any other Russian Church criticism in the novel.

I took the anti-Catholicism as part of his general xenophobia personality. Dostevesky took pride in his ethnicity and country (which is not a bad thing) to a level where he put down other cultures. He was extremely anti-European. In TBK you will find anti-semitism, anti-French, anti-German (oh he had a strong thing against the Germans) and even anti-Polish, which is a little surprising since they are fellow Slavs.

I do think there is a philosophical point he is making in The Grand Inquisitor parable outside of the xenophobia. Ivan singles out the Jesuits, which are an religious order engaged in intellectual discipline and use of rationality to understand God. Dostevesky's theology embraces the irrationailty, the notion that man's rationality is limited to the full understanding of the spiritual. What is ironic is that Ivan is the "rational" character, the one most like the Jesuits.

[Dark Muse]

Although, to be fair the spread of Liberal ideas about women arrived later in Russia than they did in France and England.

Oh that is interesting!

[Virgil]

I want to highligh a particular early passage where the narrator is giving us Alyosha's character because I think it holds the key to understanding all the characters in the novel.


Some will say, perhaps, that Alyosha was slow, underdeveloped, had not finished his studies, and so on. That he had not finished his studies is true, but to say he was slow or stupid would be a great injustice. I will simply repeat what I have already said above: he set upon this path only because at the time it alone struck him and presented him all at once with the whole ideal way out for his soul struggling from darkness to light. Add this that he was partly a young man of our time—that is, honest by nature, demanding the truth, seeking it and believing in it, and in that belief demanding immediate participation in it with all the strength of his soul; demanding an immediate deed, with an unfailing desire to sacrifice everything for this deed, even life. Although, unfortunately, these young men do not understand that the sacrifice of life is, perhaps, the easiest of all sacrifices in many cases, while to sacrifice, for example five or six years of their ebullient youthful life to hard, difficult studies, to learning, in order to increase tenfold their strength to serve the very truth and the very deed that they loved and set out to accomplish—such sacrifice is quite often almost beyond the strength of many of them. Alyosha simply chose the opposite path from all others, but with the same thirst for an immediate deed. As soon as he reflected seriously and was struck by the conviction of immortality and God exist, he naturally said at once himself: “I want to live for immortality, and I reject any halfway compromise.” [p26, 1.1.5]

I'm using the P&V translation and 1.1.5 refers to Part I, Book, 1, Chapter 5.

The struggle from “darkness to light”—darkness as the metaphor for torturous strain on the psyche that all human flesh must endure as simply a fact of living—shows that Alyosha has broken free from the limitations of human flesh. Each major and even second tier characters in the novel undergo this struggle and other than a few (Father Zossima, for instance) cannot break through the ceiling of human limitation. Alyosha simply sees beyond the limitation, while Demtri and Ivan for instance are caught within their own particular cycle of repetition. The characters who cannot break free are stuck within a labyrinth of their own being.

[spookymulder93]

So everyone got upset due to the fact that a dead body started to decay and smell? That's what happens when you put people on a high pedestal and suddenly find out that they're just human too.

Father Ferapont has got to be the funniest dude in this story.

And Grushenkas going back to the dude who dumped her 5 year previous.

This is like a soap opera!

[Dark Muse]

One thing I did not understand about that chapter is when Ivan says "it's not that I do not believe in God, it's that I don't accept the world he gave us" or something like that. (I'm sure I've butchered the sentiment quite much here...) What do you think it means to not accept the world?

I tend to agree with Spooky about this, particularly after finishing the Grand Inquisitor, it seems that Ivan does not have an argument against the existence of God, but he does not see man as being fit for free will.

He does not like the way the world is and the way in which God did allow man to simply decide for themselves and ceased to really intervene with man's choices, he seems to be making the argument that it is impossible and even unnatural for man to live by the rules in which God laid out for them if man is left complete by their own devices and makes the case that men need to be governed that men are in the end happier when they are ruled over by another and do not have not responsibility of having to make the choices for themselves but have the choices made already for them. That man is incapable of choosing goodness but at the same time is in agony over his sins and suffers for them.

[spookymulder93]

The feds just picked up Dmitry. I wonder did he put the kibosh on the old man? I mean where could he have gotten all that money?

[ktm5124]

Just finished - wow!

[Virgil]

That Book II, Chapter 5, "So Be It! So Be It!" is rather interesting. That's where they discuss whether church and state should be separate over the matters of crime. What is really interesting is Ivan's argument in support of church absorbing secular duties.


“If everything became the Church, then the Church would excommunicate the criminal and the disobedient and not cut off their heads,” Ivan Fyodororich continued. “Where, I ask you, would the excommunicated man go? He would have to go away not only from men, as now, but also from Christ. For by this time he would have rebelled not only against men but also against Christ’s Church. That is now, too, of course, strictly speaking, but it is not avowed, and the criminal of today all too often bargins with his conscience: ‘I stole,’ he says, ‘but I have not gone against the Church, I am not an enemy of Christ.’ Time and again that is what the criminal of today says to himself. Well, but when the Church takes the place of the state, it will be very difficult for him to say that, unless he means to reject the Church all over the earth, to say: ‘All are mistaken, all are in error, all are a false Church, and I alone, a murderer and a thief, am the true Christian Church.’ It is very difficult to say this to oneself; it requires formidable conditions, circumstances that do not often occur. Now, on the other hand, take the Church’s own view of crime: should it not change from the present, almost pagan view, and from the mechanical cutting off of the infected member, as is done now for the preservation of society, and transform, fully now and not falsely, into the idea of the regeneration of man anew, of his restoration and salvation…?” [1.2.5, pp 63-4]

That hardly sounds like an atheist. What is particularly interesting is that Father Zosima agrees with Ivan, and I’m not going to type out the elder’s long speech, but this may be the crux of the social problem in Russia as Dostoevsky sees it. Here are some key parts to Father Zosima’s speech:


“…Thus the modern criminal is capable of acknowledging his guilt before the Church alone, and not before the state. If it were so that the judgment to society as the Church, then it would know whom to bring back from excommunication and reunite with itself. But now the Church, having no active jurisdiction but merely the possibility of moral condemnation alone, withholds from actively punishing the criminal of its own accord. It does not excommunicate him, but simply does not leave him with paternal guidance…What would become of him if the Church, too, punished him with excommunication each time immediately after the law of the state has punished him? Surely there could not be any greater despair, at least for a Russian criminal, for Russian criminals still have faith…What has just been said here is also true, that if, indeed, the judgment of the Church came, and in its full force—that is, if the whole of society turned into the Church alone—then not only would the judgment of the Church influence the reformation of the criminal as it can never influence it now, but perhaps crimes themselves would indeed diminish at an incredible rate…It is true,” the elder smiled, “that now Christian society itself is not yet ready, and stands only on seven righteous men; but as they are never wanting it abides firmly all the same, awaiting its complex transfiguration of society as still an almost pagan organization, into one universal and sovereign Church. And so be it, so be it, if only at the end of time, for this alone is destined to be fulfilled…” [pp 66-7]

Notice the resonances in the discussion with the central situation of the novel, the murder of old Karamazov. This may be the crux of the problem (the disconnect between society and the spiritual) as Dostoevsky sees it, but is he in agreement with Ivan and Father Zosima? Let’s look at the criminal characters. Would Dmitri be reformed if he were excommunicated? Possibly but I think he still would have committed his crimes and he claims to be reformed without it. Would Smerdyakov be reformed? No, absolutely not. I think Father Zosima’s fleshing out of Ivan’s idea is overly idealistic. Even Father Zosima says that society is not ready for this. Ultimately I think Dostoevsky believes humanity is flawed and unless a person can transcend earthly limitations, say like Alyosha, then a person is doomed to live out his character flaws.

[Dark Muse]

That hardly sounds like an atheist. What is particularly interesting is that Father Zosima agrees with Ivan, and I’m not going to type out the elder’s long speech, but this may be the crux of the social problem in Russia as Dostoevsky sees it.

Though I do not think that Ivan is an atheist, I do believe that it is said that Ivan's speech does not necessarily reflect his own personal belief, but rather he produces such arguments in religion as a form of some amusement to himself.

[Virgil]

Though I do not think that Ivan is an atheist, I do believe that it is said that Ivan's speech does not necessarily reflect his own personal belief, but rather he produces such arguments in religion as a form of some amusement to himself.

Yes, that is true, but it's all that seems to be on Ivan's mind. It's like he can't get away from religion. He's forever contemplating a religious thought.

[Dark Muse]

Yes, that is true, but it's all that seems to be on Ivan's mind. It's like he can't get away from religion. He's forever contemplating a religious thought.

It seems that all the Karamazov's suffer from religion so to speak in their own individual ways, no matter what they claim to believe or not believe, it seems questions of religion plague them and shape them. They all live within the shadow or religion, whether to have positive or negative effects.

[Virgil]

It seems that all the Karamazov's suffer from religion so to speak in their own individual ways, no matter what they claim to believe or not believe, it seems questions of religion plague them and shape them. They all live within the shadow or religion, whether to have positive or negative effects.

Yes, but I would say it's the whole Russian character as Dostoevsky sees it.

[Quark]

This may be the crux of the problem (the disconnect between society and the spiritual) as Dostoevsky sees it, but is he in agreement with Ivan and Father Zosima?

I think you're right to see Zosima and Ivan as two sides of the same coin rather than as complete opposites. They both share a pretty bleak view of society, both have a fatalist's assurance, and both are merely bidding their time until the great change in the future. Zosima waits in the monastery cultivating Christ's image, and Ivan plunges himself in "Karamazoving" (I think we all know what that is). Does the novel agree with these characters? Partly, yes. Their indictments of then contemporary Russia seem to hold up. The novel doesn't appear to correct their observations about the suffering and cruelty going on around them. Yet I don't think the novel supports their conclusions about fate and direction of society. The book ends with neither a great Christian overthrow of society, nor an authoritarian church being set up. It ends with Alyosha's speech which embraces the flawed life that Zosima and Ivan are forever running away from. Alyosha tells the children not be afraid of life, but rather to pursue the community and love and preserve that image (not Christ's directly) in one's mind as a protection against cruelty (that within and that without). I suppose you could recuperate Ivan and Zosima's interpretation by saying that the end of the novel is not really the end of the story, but I think that's a bit of stretch. The real conclusion seems to refute their revolutionary mindset, and instead support Alyosha's attention to life.


I think Father Zosima’s fleshing out of Ivan’s idea is overly idealistic. Even Father Zosima says that society is not ready for this. Ultimately I think Dostoevsky believes humanity is flawed and unless a person can transcend earthly limitations, say like Alyosha, then a person is doomed to live out his character flaws.

I tend to disagree. You propose that last sentence as though it were a counter-argument against Ivan and Zosima, but it sounds more like you're agreeing with them. It's Ivan Grand Inquisitor who builds his entire argument on earthly limitations: "Then we shall give them a quiet, reconciled happiness, the happiness of feeble creatures, such as they were created" (337). I think the point of the novel is get beyond this. Otherwise, we'd be left with a depressing (and not to say banal) outlook on society. There would be an elect few who aren't tainted by society and then everyone else who are doomed to live in either anarchy or authoritarianism. Now that's uplifting! Again, I have to stress that Zosima's and Ivan's philosophy doesn't seem to match the rest of the novel. While it's true that Aloysha is childlike and innocent in many ways, he's also the character that warns people from being afraid of life--he's also the character that tells Ivan he isn't guilty when the Zosima/Ivan philosophy tells us they are (and Ivan and Dmitri get away!). Alyosha's also the character who emphasizes lived acts of kindness and not an abstract Jesus-image like Zosima. The characters who shelter themselves from perceived societal evils are not exactly role models in the novel. Zosima waits in the monestary, and doesn't do terribly much for us in the book. Ivan, Dmitri, and Fyodor hide themselves in "Karamazoving," but that doesn't go particularly well for any of them. That's why I wouldn't necessarily say the message of the book is to ware hairshirt and control our urges. Yes, Alyosha is above his impulses and the others are not, but what's pointed out several times is that characters resort to sensualism because they don't see any way forward with society. It's not that Ivan tells Aloysha that he's "Karamazoving" because he's just not above his impulses. Rather, he's "Karamazoving" because of the views he expounds about society. Ivan's worldview excludes the possibility of productive labor, meaningful kindness, and love. So, why not drown himself in sensualism? That's what he tells Alyosha in Pro and Contra, and that's what's reiterated in the novel.

[Virgil]

I think you're right to see Zosima and Ivan as two sides of the same coin rather than as complete opposites. They both share a pretty bleak view of society, both have a fatalist's assurance, and both are merely bidding their time until the great change in the future. Zosima waits in the monastery cultivating Christ's image, and Ivan plunges himself in "Karamazoving" (I think we all know what that is). Does the novel agree with these characters? Partly, yes. Their indictments of then contemporary Russia seem to hold up. The novel doesn't appear to correct their observations about the suffering and cruelty going on around them. Yet I don't think the novel supports their conclusions about fate and direction of society. The book ends with neither a great Christian overthrow of society, nor an authoritarian church being set up. It ends with Alyosha's speech which embraces the flawed life that Zosima and Ivan are forever running away from. Alyosha tells the children not be afraid of life, but rather to pursue the community and love and preserve that image (not Christ's directly) in one's mind as a protection against cruelty (that within and that without). I suppose you could recuperate Ivan and Zosima's interpretation by saying that the end of the novel is not really the end of the story, but I think that's a bit of stretch. The real conclusion seems to refute their revolutionary mindset, and instead support Alyosha's attention to life.

Actually it was you a few pages back that suggested that Alyosha and Zosima were not exactly on the same page and that got me thinking. I think you are right and I think the difference between them is profound. I've come across a quote recently which goes, "Christ has no hands on earth now but yours," which is to say that a person has to go out and do Christ's work. Father Zosima is in a way a less severe version of Father Ferapont, ascetic and isolated from the problems of humanity. Alyosha in the end goes out into the world to do good, not just wallow in spiritual glory.


I tend to disagree. You propose that last sentence as though it were a counter-argument against Ivan and Zosima, but it sounds more like you're agreeing with them. It's Ivan Grand Inquisitor who builds his entire argument on earthly limitations: "Then we shall give them a quiet, reconciled happiness, the happiness of feeble creatures, such as they were created" (337). I think the point of the novel is get beyond this. Otherwise, we'd be left with a depressing (and not to say banal) outlook on society. There would be an elect few who aren't tainted by society and then everyone else who are doomed to live in either anarchy or authoritarianism. Now that's uplifting!
What's sad is that Russia, a hundred and thirty or so years later is still struggling between anarchy and authoritarianism.



Again, I have to stress that Zosima's and Ivan's philosophy doesn't seem to match the rest of the novel. While it's true that Aloysha is childlike and innocent in many ways, he's also the character that warns people from being afraid of life--he's also the character that tells Ivan he isn't guilty when the Zosima/Ivan philosophy tells us they are (and Ivan and Dmitri get away!). Alyosha's also the character who emphasizes lived acts of kindness and not an abstract Jesus-image like Zosima. The characters who shelter themselves from perceived societal evils are not exactly role models in the novel. Zosima waits in the monestary, and doesn't do terribly much for us in the book. Ivan, Dmitri, and Fyodor hide themselves in "Karamazoving," but that doesn't go particularly well for any of them. That's why I wouldn't necessarily say the message of the book is to ware hairshirt and control our urges. Yes, Alyosha is above his impulses and the others are not, but what's pointed out several times is that characters resort to sensualism because they don't see any way forward with society. It's not that Ivan tells Aloysha that he's "Karamazoving" because he's just not above his impulses. Rather, he's "Karamazoving" because of the views he expounds about society. Ivan's worldview excludes the possibility of productive labor, meaningful kindness, and love. So, why not drown himself in sensualism? That's what he tells Alyosha in Pro and Contra, and that's what's reiterated in the novel.
Yes, I think we see it the same. I think the central core of the novel is the satisfaction of the internal pleasures (which comes in all sorts of different forms) in conflict with societal needs, and Alyosha as the hero who can trascend his internal needs.

[Dark Muse]

So everyone got upset due to the fact that a dead body started to decay and smell? That's what happens when you put people on a high pedestal and suddenly find out that they're just human too.!

That is hysterical, and so very true. I have to say I find the whole thing really quite amusing. It does not matter everything he had done while he was alive, and his deeds upon earth are completely irrelevant, because how dare his dead body start to rot, clearly that is a sign that he really was a disgraceful person.

So does that mean if when Fyodor dies, his body happened to smell like roses he would be instantly turned into a Saint?

The narrator claims that Aloysha does not suffer from little faith, and yet it seems that he cannot have a very strong faith if he suddenly suffers from a crisis of belief because a corpse started to decay and if he is willing to throw everything out and spit in the face of his mentor and all his mentor taught him.

Rakitin is the only one who has an ounce of sense.

[ktm5124]

Actually it was you a few pages back that suggested that Alyosha and Zosima were not exactly on the same page and that got me thinking. I think you are right and I think the difference between them is profound. I've come across a quote recently which goes, "Christ has no hands on earth now but yours," which is to say that a person has to go out and do Christ's work. Father Zosima is in a way a less severe version of Father Ferapont, ascetic and isolated from the problems of humanity. Alyosha in the end goes out into the world to do good, not just wallow in spiritual glory.


*spoilers*

Was Father Zosima really isolated from society all his life? I remember that he decided to go to the monastery after he refused to shoot at the fiance of the girl he loved, in the middle of their duel. One could count this as a trial in which Father Zosima faced depravation and opposed it, in giving up the girl he loved. Similarly, Alyosha is presented with a similar trial, when he goes to Grushenka's, and he too triumphs over the sensual. This incident led Alyosha to regain his faith, although he does not go to the monastery as Zosima did. But where do you think Alyosha will end up? By the end of the novel he has no wife, no family, no woman whom he loves. Are we to suppose that he will meet someone, or that he will remain single all his life. And supposing that he does remain single, he might as well head on to the monastery. If this happens, then the two might prove very similar; in fact, the same side of the coin.

Why also do you suppose that Father Zosima is isolated from society? Is it simply because he lives in a monastery - is it his celibacy? He has contact wtih society every day when he receives people seeking help and proceeds to help them. Or is there something superficial about this, in that he is not developing personal relationships. Is that what separates Alyosha and Zosima, their relations with others? If this is true, then I think it would be a criticism of monks, priests, and the monastery as an institution.

I suppose the most pressing question is this: why does Father Zosima's corpse stink, and is it a sign that the way he lived his life was wrong?

[Quark]

Actually it was you a few pages back that suggested that Alyosha and Zosima were not exactly on the same page and that got me thinking.

Yeah, and I stand by that. The point I was making in my last post was about Ivan and Zosima. Those two share many of the same assumptions: that mankind is doomed to cruelty or suffering until some revolutionary moment in the future, that escape (either in "Karamazoving" or a monastery) is the best course of action until that future revolution, and that freedom is a problem.


I think you are right and I think the difference between them is profound. I've come across a quote recently which goes, "Christ has no hands on earth now but yours," which is to say that a person has to go out and do Christ's work. Father Zosima is in a way a less severe version of Father Ferapont, ascetic and isolated from the problems of humanity. Alyosha in the end goes out into the world to do good, not just wallow in spiritual glory.

That's true. Unlike Ivan and Zosima, Alyosha finds something productive to do with the "freedom" that Ivan says Christ gave his followers. Ivan and Zosima find that "freedom" problematic, but Alyosha shows that one can cultivate a world that minimizes cruelty and suffering by showing (and remembering) love and kindness. Alyosha doesn't wait until some utopian future takes hold, but rather acts now. Whether you find that heroic or just overly idealistic is up to the reader, I guess.


What's sad is that Russia, a hundred and thirty or so years later is still struggling between anarchy and authoritarianism.

Poverty, too, but I think the social upheavals that gave rise to The Brothers Karamazov occured in more than just Russia. The movement from feudalism to capitalism, state bureaucracy, and bourgeois culture happened all over Europe. It's that change which gives all of this talk about "freedom" its heft.


Yes, I think we see it the same. I think the central core of the novel is the satisfaction of the internal pleasures (which comes in all sorts of different forms) in conflict with societal needs, and Alyosha as the hero who can trascend his internal needs.

Sure, but I think all of the stuff about "freedom" (as I've been writing about above) is also very important. What that freedom is and what people do with it are critical questions the novel wants us to answer. Does freedom lead to the cruelty in Ivan's anecdotes during "Mutiny" and "The Grand Inquisitor"? After all, we could read the entire novel as just one big anecdote for Ivan, as there's plenty of cruelty and suffering to go around. Or, should we view freedom and the novel as leading toward something like Alyosha's community of children? The other characters would have their own take on this issue, too. I think this is one of the central issues in the novel, and it's not one that can easily been boiled down into a individual/society conflict or a Freudian tension between id and superego.

[Virgil]

Was Father Zosima really isolated from society all his life? I remember that he decided to go to the monastery after he refused to shoot at the fiance of the girl he loved, in the middle of their duel. One could count this as a trial in which Father Zosima faced depravation and opposed it, in giving up the girl he loved. Similarly, Alyosha is presented with a similar trial, when he goes to Grushenka's, and he too triumphs over the sensual. This incident led Alyosha to regain his faith, although he does not go to the monastery as Zosima did. But where do you think Alyosha will end up? By the end of the novel he has no wife, no family, no woman whom he loves. Are we to suppose that he will meet someone, or that he will remain single all his life. And supposing that he does remain single, he might as well head on to the monastery. If this happens, then the two might prove very similar; in fact, the same side of the coin.

Why also do you suppose that Father Zosima is isolated from society? Is it simply because he lives in a monastery - is it his celibacy? He has contact wtih society every day when he receives people seeking help and proceeds to help them. Or is there something superficial about this, in that he is not developing personal relationships. Is that what separates Alyosha and Zosima, their relations with others? If this is true, then I think it would be a criticism of monks, priests, and the monastery as an institution.

I suppose the most pressing question is this: why does Father Zosima's corpse stink, and is it a sign that the way he lived his life was wrong?
You make good points ktm. No his celibacy has nothing to do with anything. I do think he has closed himself up to some degree, but perhaps that's an overstatement. What seems to separate Alyosha and Zosima is that Alyosha goes out into the world and tries to influence those kids for the better. I don't see any such activity on Zosima's part, though he does seem to preach the right message. Perhaps he's just old at this point. Perhaps Alyosha is just a younger version of him who will eventually become Zosima. But I still think there is a distinction between the two.


Sure, but I think all of the stuff about "freedom" (as I've been writing about above) is also very important. What that freedom is and what people do with it are critical questions the novel wants us to answer. Does freedom lead to the cruelty in Ivan's anecdotes during "Mutiny" and "The Grand Inquisitor"? After all, we could read the entire novel as just one big anecdote for Ivan, as there's plenty of cruelty and suffering to go around. Or, should we view freedom and the novel as leading toward something like Alyosha's community of children? The other characters would have their own take on this issue, too. I think this is one of the central issues in the novel, and it's not one that can easily been boiled down into a individual/society conflict or a Freudian tension between id and superego.

No question freedom is an issue in the novel, though I haven't formulated yet how it fits in. I will have to relook at some of the key passages. Unfortunately I can't re-read the whole thing.

Oh please drop this Freudian nonsense. You know my feelings on Freud: the most over rated supposed intellectual in history. :wink5:

[Quark]

What seems to separate Alyosha and Zosima is that Alyosha goes out into the world and tries to influence those kids for the better. Perhaps he's just old at this point. Perhaps Alyosha is just a younger version of him who will eventually become Zosima. But I still think there is a distinction between the two

I don't think it's age that keeping Zosima in the monastery. Remember that it's his tragic vision of the world that motivates him to enter the monastery in the first place. In his youth (or perhaps middle age) he begins to believe that the only way Christianity can survive is if it's cultivated by a small, sheltered group of monks. The world is far to corrupt and disordered to see truth, Zosima believes.

But, I also think we should remember that it's Zosima who sends Alyosha out of the monastery. I forget that section of the book, though. Does anyone recall what the motivation for that was?


No question freedom is an issue in the novel, though I haven't formulated yet how it fits in. I will have to relook at some of the key passages. Unfortunately I can't re-read the whole thing.

If you're looking back over the book, check the "Mutiny" and "Grand Inquisitor" chapters for Ivan's take on the issue, maybe the last chapter for Alyosha's view, and the section on Zosima's past for the monk's explanation.


Oh please drop this Freudian nonsense. You know my feelings on Freud: the most over rated supposed intellectual in history. :wink5:

huh? I was closing down a Freudian reading not opening one up:


I think this [freedom] is one of the central issues in the novel, and it's not one that can easily been boiled down into a individual/society conflict or a Freudian tension between id and superego.

(Underline, bold, italics all added)

[TurquoiseSunset]

This last month has been hectic! I have FINALLY started reading TBK...this is now possible because I stay awake longer than ten minutes after I pick up a book, hehe. So far it's looking great, so after tonight I can start reading everyone's posts on the first Book and give my opinion. Yay!

[ktm5124]

I don't think it's age that keeping Zosima in the monastery. Remember that it's his tragic vision of the world that motivates him to enter the monastery in the first place. In his youth (or perhaps middle age) he begins to believe that the only way Christianity can survive is if it's cultivated by a small, sheltered group of monks. The world is far to corrupt and disordered to see truth, Zosima believes.


I don't recall this tragic vision of his. In what chapter can I hear him profess this?

I think I remember that he agreed with Ivan's play-argument about the necessity of having the Church administrate justice, for it is only the Church that can deter the criminal. But that is more a product of a priori reasoning than beliefs.

I also remember that he joined the monastery immediately after his duel, in which he courageously refused to shoot the other man. This was the beginning of a long life of being admired, when his comrades thought him holy (perhaps a "holy fool") for the act. But his departure for the monastery did not arise out of a tragic vision of the world, that is to say, an escape from corruption, but rather from a revelation occurring at the time of the duel.



But, I also think we should remember that it's Zosima who sends Alyosha out of the monastery. I forget that section of the book, though. Does anyone recall what the motivation for that was?


Yes, this seems to be a paradox, given that Zosima has a tragic view of the world. (And I am inclined to believe you since I fairly forget his personal views, and ashamedly so, since I have just finished it!) It is possible that Zosima wanted Alyosha to arrive at his own tragic perception through experience in the world, but why send him off into the world for what can be inculcated in the monastery? It seems to me that, given his tragic view of the world, he is also open-minded, and admits that Alyosha may not come to see the world in the same way, and perhaps does not even desire Alyosha to see the world in the same way. If Zosima despairs about the world, he at least wants Alyosha to form his own opinions. He at least is open-minded.

And I am curious, why does Zosima's corpse stink in the funeral rites? Is this a divine repudiation of his philosophy? What are we to think of that? It is so strange and out-of-place; it only makes one doubt Zosima. And yet Dostoevsky must conceive it as very important to the novel, since it led to Alyosha's reawakening of faith.

[spookymulder93]

So I just finished the book.

SPOILERS AHEAD






I thought Dmitry was going to get Acquitted even though the evidence pointing against him was as large as a mountain. I thought the Defender did a good job at swaying the jury, but I guess in the end fancy words can't compete with facts.

The last chapter was pretty sad. I wonder how Snegirev will go on?

All in All I wouldn't say that this entire book is a must read because the actual story is kind of unbelievable to me. The only chapters that are must reads are The Grand Inquisitor and Ivans Nightmare and The devil. The rest of the book reads like a soap opera and soap operas are pretty silly to me.

Smerdyakov and Ivan are the 2 best characters in my opinion. Dmitry was like an idiot teenager and Alyosha was too much of a goody goody for my taste.

Edit: I can't believe I forgot about Kolya. He's definitely the best character in this story.

[Virgil]

I don't think it's age that keeping Zosima in the monastery. Remember that it's his tragic vision of the world that motivates him to enter the monastery in the first place. In his youth (or perhaps middle age) he begins to believe that the only way Christianity can survive is if it's cultivated by a small, sheltered group of monks. The world is far to corrupt and disordered to see truth, Zosima believes.

Oh I don't remember that. Thanks. You've got the novel on your fingertips way better than I do. This definitely deserves another reading, possibly early next year.


But, I also think we should remember that it's Zosima who sends Alyosha out of the monastery. I forget that section of the book, though. Does anyone recall what the motivation for that was?
Yes, I was thinking the same thing, so it's not completely clear to me what Zosima's philosophy is.


If you're looking back over the book, check the "Mutiny" and "Grand Inquisitor" chapters for Ivan's take on the issue, maybe the last chapter for Alyosha's view, and the section on Zosima's past for the monk's explanation.
Ok.



huh? I was closing down a Freudian reading not opening one up:
I know. I was just teasing. :D

[Quark]

I don't recall this tragic vision of his. In what chapter can I hear him profess this?

I was mostly talking about Book VI where Dostoevsky recounts the life and thoughts of the monk. It's up to the reader whether you want to call his views "tragic," of course, but that's a little beside the point. Mostly, my post was just responding to Virgil's suggestion that Zosima joined the monastery because he was old. I was saying that it was more a matter of principle than physical limitations that lead him to the monastery.


All in All I wouldn't say that this entire book is a must read because the actual story is kind of unbelievable to me. The only chapters that are must reads are The Grand Inquisitor and Ivans Nightmare and The devil. The rest of the book reads like a soap opera and soap operas are pretty silly to me.

In the novels defense (am I really saying this about one of the greatest novels of the 19th C?), Ivan's philosophical questions are tied in with the rest of the novel.

Remember, Ivan says "let's take the example of children" in "Mutiny." Funny enough, Alyosha ends up with children, too. One of the children is to die unjustly, just as Ivan's stories depict in "Mutiny."

Ivan's point in "The Grand Inquisitor" is that people don't know what to do with freedom and quickly fall into anarchy or totalitarianism. Similarly, Dmitri finds himself either in lawless revels or in the grips of the state.

Ivan suggests that all things are lawful, even murder. A crime (murder) is committed by Smerdyakov.

Almost everything Ivan brings up has some resonance with the rest of the novel. It's hard to come to a conclusion on what Ivan even means without reading the rest of the novel.

[Rores28]

I finished this about a week and a half ago and was completely blown away. Undoubtedly there is much I misinterpreted and missed, but what I could glean was immensely enjoyable.

D's ability to make you believe one side of an argument and then immediately the other is pretty staggering. This happens throughout the novel but in its closing with the defense and prosecution is where it is most impressive.

The two points that most touched me in the book were, the problem of freedom, and the limits of rationality.

The Grand Inquisitor is of course a crowd favorite not just because of what it says but at the outlandishly entertaining presentation. I think this problem of giving people freedom as if its a gift, when it will in turn only cause internal turmoil, is best illustrated in Dmitri. Has there ever been a character whose base impulses and overt behavior were so at odds with their moral or noble compass? Free will for Dmitri seems to be the most exquisite form of torture and not at all to be regarded as any sort of gift. The irony being that had there been a whole society of Dmitri's I think they would have fervently insisted on the acceptance of this gift and not in fact aligned with the Grand Inquisitor.

I think there is interesting stuff then going on with Fyodor who possess they same wanton impulses but not the conscience, and Alyosha who has the conscience but not the desires (or else the desires are small and easily suppressed or transmuted to something noble). I don't really quite know what to say about that though....

The limit of rationality theme was definitely my favorite. I will start by saying my education background is in science and that I am now agnostic, but was long time atheist and I've been in more existence of God arguments than I care to remember. That being said somewhat recently I have come to some degree to relinquish the dogmatism of rationality.

Anyway, I thought the most piercing moment of this book occurred in Ivan's Nightmare when he asks the devil (who has just been going on about his interactions with God) whether or not he believes in God. A seemingly ridiculous question, but still the devil in some degree side steps, he says something to the effect of "oh I don't know Je pense donc je suis right (I think therefore I am)?"

It took me a minute but then sort of staggered me, because a very common perry/thrust in god arguments is

"Well you can't disprove god." - Speciously a good point until of course you realize

"Well than I believe in a flying spaghetti monster." - this being equally unprovable would seem to break down the previous argument, whereby it spiral into .. "its just a matter of faith etc.. etc.."

but Dostoevsky takes it a step further and says I think therefore I am, merely refocuses the doubt of what our observable experience can tell us. This doesn't prove God, but it shows that the atheist is equally guilty of this leap of faith. Everyone makes some sort of leap of faith in other words in shaping/believing in something even if it is just that grass is green. Its funny because while I was familiar of course with I think therefore I am I never considered this application which I think is an exceptionally interesting one.

There's more I wanna say but I don't have time now. It seems as though I'm a little late to the show though :(

[Virgil]

Excellent post Rores. I enjoyed reading your thoughts. Nicely put on the two core themes: "the problem of freedom, and the limits of rationality."


The limit of rationality theme was definitely my favorite. I will start by saying my education background is in science and that I am now agnostic, but was long time atheist and I've been in more existence of God arguments than I care to remember. That being said somewhat recently I have come to some degree to relinquish the dogmatism of rationality.

That is interesting. You seem to be following in my footsteps. People who really deal with science realize quickly how limited rationality is.

[Mr. Pedantic]

What did everyone think of the actual murder of Fydor Pavlovitch? Did he deserve it? Was Pavel Smerdyakov justified in taking his neglectful and immoral father's life?

I love how Dostoevsky is able to make us wonder whether destroying 'the buffoon' is immoral with the character of Fetyukivitch. "what is a father? a real father? What is the meaning of that great word? What is the idea in that name?" Fetyukivitch is able to articulate what I was thinking the whole with that question.

I believe that Smerdyakov slays Fydor Pavlovitch because he wants to accept Ivan as a surrogate father. He engrosses himself in Ivan's belief of a lawless law, or a world without God. Ivan realizes that the murder was his fault for indoctrinating Smerdyakov with this belief, which causes his mental lapse in the chapter "The Devil". But I keep asking myself 'is his grief justified?'

Also, According to wikipedia "The Brother Karamazov" was supposed to be the inauguration of a four part epic story titled "The Life of a Great Sinner". I'm positively livid that it was never completed, due to Dostoevsky's untimely death.

[Virgil]

What did everyone think of the actual murder of Fydor Pavlovitch? Did he deserve it? Was Pavel Smerdyakov justified in taking his neglectful and immoral father's life?

Well, no one deserves to be murdered. But he was a terrible father. Still I felt some pity for him.


I love how Dostoevsky is able to make us wonder whether destroying 'the buffoon' is immoral with the character of Fetyukivitch. "what is a father? a real father? What is the meaning of that great word? What is the idea in that name?" Fetyukivitch is able to articulate what I was thinking the whole with that question.
That was brilliant!


I believe that Smerdyakov slays Fydor Pavlovitch because he wants to accept Ivan as a surrogate father. He engrosses himself in Ivan's belief of a lawless law, or a world without God. Ivan realizes that the murder was his fault for indoctrinating Smerdyakov with this belief, which causes his mental lapse in the chapter "The Devil". But I keep asking myself 'is his grief justified?'
Not sure I can buy into the "surragte father" part. I think Smerdyakov really beleived in atheism and didn't value Fydor's life. There is a hollowness at the core of Smerdyakov that goes beyond Ivan.


Also, According to wikipedia "The Brother Karamazov" was supposed to be the inauguration of a four part epic story titled "The Life of a Great Sinner". I'm positively livid that it was never completed, due to Dostoevsky's untimely death.
Oh what more brilliance we have lost out by Dosteoevsky's early death. Thank god we got The Brothers Karamazov.

[Dark Muse]

I finally finished the book. It took me longer than I had anticipiated becasue I have to admit that though I did enjoy the book, I felt that towrd the middle of it, it began to get a little slow, and so the reading started to drag a bit at parts for me.

But I have to say that I did find everything following the murder to be quite interesting. I rather enjoyed reading about the trail proceedings in Russia and thought it was a bit humorous the way in which it became so much an event for public entertainment, and the special seats for important people behind the judges, and the reactions of the ladies in the court.

Even though the narrator tells you ahead of time what is going to happen to Dmitri, I still I could not help but root for him to be acquitted and I was so disappointed that the jury found him guilty.


Well, no one deserves to be murdered.

Haha I have to disagree with you there. As for as I am concerned both Smerdyakov and Katerina would have deserved to be murdered.

I think Smerdyakov was in fact a certifiable psychopath and Katerina I never liked her from the start of the book but as the story progressed she grew to be completely loathsome to me, and I wished she would have followed in Smerdyakov's footsteps and took her own life.

Grushenka ended up becoming my favorite character in the whole book.

[Mr. Pedantic]

But I have to say that I did find everything following the murder to be quite interesting. I rather enjoyed reading about the trail proceedings in Russia and thought it was a bit humorous the way in which it became so much an event for public entertainment, and the special seats for important people behind the judges, and the reactions of the ladies in the court.

Yes, the courtroom scene was indeed brilliant. It reminded me of the crucifixion of Christ, or rather a perversion of it because of the spectacle. The men all wanted his head and the woman were weeping for him or in this case fawning over him. Of course, this is because Dimitri is the ever handsome devilish rouge.

I don't necessary agree with your conviction against Katerina. She was wronged by just about ever character in the book, and she truly loves Ivan. I'm quite glad she was able to keep it together. Because it was supposed to be part of an epic, Dostoevsky might need her for later installments.

I'd have to say that, like the narrator, my hero is Alyosha Karamazov. He's smart, forgiving and has perspective. He's the only one of brothers anyone can trust. Although one might have difficulty believing in his overwhelming benignity, he's arguably the only 'good' character in the novel, which only extenuates his divinity. Hurrah for Karamazov!

[Virgil]

Haha I have to disagree with you there. As for as I am concerned both Smerdyakov and Katerina would have deserved to be murdered.

I think Smerdyakov was in fact a certifiable psychopath and Katerina I never liked her from the start of the book but as the story progressed she grew to be completely loathsome to me, and I wished she would have followed in Smerdyakov's footsteps and took her own life.

Grushenka ended up becoming my favorite character in the whole book.

:lol: I'm just seeing this now. I agree with you on Smerdyakov based on his actions, not his personality. He is a scary person. I'm with Mr. Pendantic (above post) on Katarina. While she is not so likable for various reasons, I can't say she deserves to be murdered. :lol: She has her personality issues as do every character in this novel. I think that's what makes this such a fascinating book - the deep flaws within every character. I like Grushenka too. She reminds me of various Russian immigrants in NYC. :wink5:

[Dark Muse]

I don't necessary agree with your conviction against Katerina. She was wronged by just about ever character in the book, and she truly loves Ivan. I'm quite glad she was able to keep it together. Because it was supposed to be part of an epic, Dostoevsky might need her for later installments.

The problem with Katerina for me is that for one thing I find her flaws to be particularly unbearable, and I do not find her to have any redeeming qualities. There is nothing about her throughout the book of which I at any moment liked or felt any sympathy towards. Than the straw that really broke the camel's back was the way in which she turned upon Dmitri in the courtroom.

Even Smerdyakov I think I would have been able to feel some sympathy for if it had not been for the whole torturing animals thing and setting Dmitri up for the murder of Fyodor. As for the killing of Fyodor itself, well while the act of murder is wrong, I think pretty much everyone who knew him had good reason to want to kill him. But I could relate to Smerdyakov's misanthropic nature, and general dislike for pretty much everyone. There were things about his personality that I found sardonically amusing. But in the end I cannot say I really felt the least bit sympathy for him, becasue of what he did to Dmitri and the whole hanging cats when he was a boy, and telling Ilyusha to torture the dog.

[Rores28]

I did want to say that I have never laughed so long or hard at a single sentence in a book as I did in BK., and wanted to know if anyone else found this part hilarious.

I can't quote it but its when the narrator, in recounting some newspaper article, relays the name of the town, and says that's he's been concealing it all this time, the implication being that it is a sort of silly sounding name for a town.

I think it may have had to do with the fact that it was so deep in the book before the town was named, or maybe that the narrator was insecure about such an irrelevant fact, but I could not stop laughing.