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
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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
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.
Does that mean you're also typing from the bathroom? That kind of weirds me out, Shannon.
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 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.
: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.
If you don't like her now, get ready to be very annoyed by the end of the novel.
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.
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.
Ah, I just read about the character Kolya! I love him, he's hilarious!
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.Quote:
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'm almost ready to start joing the discussion. Sorry it's taking me so long.
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.
Just read the Grand Inquisitor.
Do you think he had a point? Did Jesus give man too much credit?
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, 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.
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 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.
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..
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.
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.
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?
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.
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.
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.
*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.
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.
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)
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.
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.
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.
I'm using the P&V translation and 1.1.5 refers to Part I, Book, 1, Chapter 5.Quote:
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]
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.
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!
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.
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?
Just finished - wow!
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.
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:Quote:
“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]
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.Quote:
“…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]
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.