March 2009 Archives

Welcome to Week 6, and let me just say: yikes. I'm talking to you, pages 246-264 in the Pevear and Volokhonsky translation. There are brains made to absorb an endless prose description of a religious poem about faith and free will (and aftermath chit-chat) like the one we experienced this past week. Some of those brains are among us, as evidenced by this week's excellent comments section. But I'll confess, I have that other kind of brain. To me it all sounded like the same three sentences over and over and over again. And I say: here's to all the 'marchers! Because I'm sure I would have been left by the wayside had it not be for the lure of the trail and the shame of constructing magnets for others whilst having no BKDM magnet to call my own.

Fortunately, Smerdyakov was waiting on the far side of this maddening section. Good old broth-making, scurrilous, creepy, super-dooper compelling Smerdyakov. Fyodor's beard-behavioral analysis lay just beyond that. And the Brothers Karamazov Cannonball Run was on again....

Next Wednesday: Let's meet up at the end of Part III, Book Seven, Chapter 2, "because it's very opportune for us."

(which is to say: please use this Week 4 thread for comments on pages 0-343; aim to finish reading that section and shout out here by end o' day Tuesday)

Subway ride through a newspaper, flutter
express stop and cooked air at the sports section
with the concrete pressed straight cold against your feet
like there's no shoe there at all. No shoe to separate
the ligatures that spell out
the times of the day, the subway times you're zipping through. The
business, life, nation, op ed, crowded, closing metal metro doors
and gossip too. And there's you, subracing through in
flip-flops made of newsprint and cold-pressed shoe.

Happy Week 5! I'm about 8 pages behind, but trucking along. Did I fall asleep today in a public place with the book on my lap? And did they almost take an embarrassing picture of me, but then I woke up just in time? Counsel has advised me to neither confirm nor deny.

This one has been feeling to me a little more like a "Cannonball Run" or a "Gumball Rally" than a "Deathmarch" for some reason. Not that it's easy or even zany. Just something about the rhythm -- the book is racing along. And then I get stopped by the cops and Sammy Davis Junior has to dress up like a monk. Something like that. It's not a bad thing though -- "The Brothers Karamazov Gumball Rally" has a pleasant ring to it.

I've been especially enjoying the conversations characters keep having with themselves while other people watch, letting their thoughts tumble out like grapefruits from a busted shopping bag: "I don't want an ice cream cone. Oh, you can see I want an ice cream cone, can't you? It's written on my face! Yes! I do want an ice cream cone! But I won't have one. Unless you give me one. Will you give me an ice cream cone? I'm such a lowly creature! And yet, an ice cream would be fantastic right about now!" he said.

I'm guessing this may in part be because people interrupted each other a lot less back in 19th century Russia. Also, they were mostly insane.

This coming week let's go for a slightly more slenderized serving, to give those marchers-just-a-wee-bit-behind a chance to catch up, so we can march toward page 300 with a mighty trailwind at our backs.

Next Wednesday: I'll see ya at the optimistic juncture at the end of Book V, where "never had his heart bathed in sweeter hopes..."

(which is to say: please use this Week 4 thread for comments on pages 0-282; aim to finish reading that section and shout out here by end o' day Tuesday)

The Novocaine wearing off
felt suspiciously like morning fog as it burns away.

Made him wonder if Novocaine is in fact
constructed from morning fog.

Or perhaps that was just
the Novocaine talking?

Puffs of cool fog.

Welcome to Week 4! I'm racing along, slightly behind the crowd, 8 pages shy of the mark my own self. Having a good time by and large, tho I agree with "SBL" that the soap opera component is much more engaging so far than the theological back and forth. Although Smerdyakov's theological games were a kick. Speaking of which, thanks to Colin for finding the Smerdyakov-related picture tucked in here, referenced at the end of Chapter 6, Book III.

Based on the comments in last week's thread (and on the introduction), I may be the rare exception who likes Aloysha. In contrast to all the mayhem, I've found his Richie C.-like innocence charming and a little bit of a relief. I'm also charmed and pleasantly stupefied by the size of the group -- great to see so many folks sticking with it. And now that we're heading toward page 200, no point turning back, right? I mean, math aside, it's almost farther back now than it is just to push forward, right? Trailward ho!
-Cecil

Next Wednesday: Let's meet up at the end of Part II, Book Five, Chapter 3, where somebody's smiling, "just like a meek little boy."

(which is to say: please use this Week 4 thread for comments on pages 0-236; aim to finish reading that section and shout out here by end o' day Tuesday)

I don't have all the details worked out, but I've got my high-concept pitch ready for "Speed IV: Fear the Egg!"

Keanu's back and the Dennis Hopper role is played by a soft-boiled egg. The egg's planted a bomb on the bus. Keanu has to cook the egg and eat it before the bomb goes off! Or maybe the Dennis Hopper role is played by Jack Nicholson, and he's made a soft-boiled egg, and he's challenging Keanu to eat it, real fast, or the bus gets it! Honestly, I think they're both winners.

Can you hear the timer, tick, tick, ticking? Close up on the bus! -- the egg-cooker! -- the bus! -- a really small spoon! -- Keanu's mouth!

I know that strictly speaking it's illegal to print money, so I can't come out and say that this will be like printing money. But I bet it'll be just like that thing I just mentioned a second ago. (The money thing.) Woohoo!

A red-cabbed rig
flying just above the spires of Golden Gate Bridge.
What the hell -- right? A truck, aloft? Sort of lovely

though for the moment, looking around. There's
a nice stereo and tapes and a bed tucked in
behind the driver's seat.

The problem's his trajectory.

He'd hoped he might line up
with the road below, touch down, head on over to
Sausalito for a movie. But there's too much

sideways momentum and the truck flew west.
Flew past. Drifted.
Over. Out.

Welcome to Week 3! Things swung wildly last week from entertaining and amusing to, as noted in the thread, oft-horrifying/horrible. Whether you were looking for philosophical treatises, high drama, passion, children of unknown origin, or three different forms of confession, it was all there. As I mentioned in the W2 thread, several characters and motivations have turned out to not be what I'd glimpsed on first glance (is Fyodor a clown or a monster, or a monster-clown?), all of which has left me engaged and pleasantly unsure who or what to root for.

In the thread, a few people were reading on the road, most seemed close-to-caught-up, and at least one birthday was celebrated. Church v. state was debated, as well as whether this modern world was made for such as the K's. Many felt (and I agree) that there was something Dickensian about the flow and feel of things, particularly when Dmitri started racing us through his confessional anecdotes.

Elsethread, Sanbu offered up adam's apple-themed verse. Off-thread, I briefly considered swapping out magnets for "I Survived the Brothers Karamazov"-themed gudgeons (though a little research revealed that magnets are much more cost-effective and easier to ship).

All in all, a rewarding and thought-provoking seven days. Thanks for joining the trek. The thread has been a real treat and a great companion along the way. And now: trailward ho!
-Cecil

Next Wednesday: Let's lurch forward to Part II, Book Four, Chapter 3, "far ahead, without slowing down, without turning around..."

(which is to say: please use this Week 3 thread for comments on pages 0-180; aim to finish reading that section and shout out here by end o' day Tuesday)