Summer Reading '10: Brothers Karamazov

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Originally Posted by Virgil

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?

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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.

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Originally Posted by Virgil

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.

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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.

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Originally Posted by Quark

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.

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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.

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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!

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

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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.

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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.

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Originally Posted by 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.!

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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.

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Originally Posted by Virgil

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.

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*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?

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Originally Posted by Virgil

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.

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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.

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Originally Posted by Virgil

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.

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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.

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Originally Posted by Virgil

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

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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.

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Originally Posted by Virgil

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.

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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.

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Originally Posted by ktm5124

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?

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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.

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Originally Posted by Quark

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.

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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:

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Originally Posted by Virgil

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

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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?

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Originally Posted by Virgil

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.

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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.

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Originally Posted by Virgil

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

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

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Originally Posted by Quark

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.

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(Underline, bold, italics all added)

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!

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Originally Posted by Quark

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.

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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.

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Originally Posted by Quark

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?

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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.

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.

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Originally Posted by Quark

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.

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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.

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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?

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Yes, I was thinking the same thing, so it's not completely clear to me what Zosima's philosophy is.

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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.

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Ok.

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

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I know. I was just teasing. :D

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Originally Posted by ktm5124

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

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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.

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Originally Posted by spookymulder93

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.

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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.

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 :(

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

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Originally Posted by Rores28

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.

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

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.

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Originally Posted by 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?

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

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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.

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That was brilliant!

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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?'

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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.

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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.

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Oh what more brilliance we have lost out by Dosteoevsky's early death. Thank god we got The Brothers Karamazov.

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.

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Originally Posted by Virgil

Well, no one deserves to be murdered.

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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.

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Originally Posted by Dark Muse

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.

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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!

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Originally Posted by Dark Muse

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.

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: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:

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Originally Posted by Mr. Pedantic

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.

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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.

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.