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)
Despite a brief yet reasonably tenacious effort to march to the death (so to speak), I must abandon. I’m sad because this has been really fun and worthwhile, but even the fact that the days now appear to be longer, they are still a mere 24-hours, and my dance card has become more full than I had expected. Cecil, thanks for turning me onto this book, I will no doubt continue reading it to the end once I’ve crossed a few major things off of my to-do list. And damnit, I wanted that magnet! Oh well, next deathmarch, for sure.
Still, I’d like to make a final comment about what I’ve read so far: for me, the genius of this novel–at least from the 150 or so pages which I enjoyed–is that Fyodor seems to me to be a weird kind of everyman. What I love about him as a character is that he is so unapolagetic about his outlandishness. To me, _despite_ his self-awareness, he comes across as all *id*, to put it in Freudian terms (although I know this was about half a century before Freud published his works on psychodynamics). I can’t decide if he really has ego or not, since he acts and reacts solely knee-jerk from his gut, from what I’m recalling, but I’m not sure it matters. In any case, aside from being facinatingly paradoxical, he’s incredibly raw.
His behavior and personality are driven by his past and present environments, just like anyone on the planet, and he is simply the expression and reflection of an over-the-top tumultuous life and time. To be able to be so boorish and abusive and still be rich and successful…well, not only is that somewhat enviable, I think, in a shadowy and probably clandestine way, but truth be told, I’m afraid it’s also not so rare, which personally, I find pretty frustrating in our own culture, never mind mid-nineteenth century Russia. Even though I do know he comes to some kind of horrible death, still, that his culture enabled him to succeed while being such an asshole suggests that he was not solely to blame for his rancid behavior. After all, what was there to discourage him?
This is why I love this book. I like Dostoevsky’s truth. At least, the way I interpret it!
Again, thanks so much Cecil. As you can see, just these few weeks have stirred me in a good way, so I’m grateful! Sorry I’m falling off the wagon!
Have fun everyone!
Dosvidania!
alex.
In Strain in the Drawing Room (p. 186-195) Katerina Ivanova reveals herself as the definition of a Drama Queen. In fact Alexei accuses her: “You acted on purpose…acted as if you were in a comedy, in a theater…!” A theater in which she has cast herself as the leading character, and everyone who comes into contact with her must be made to revolve around her life, if not for good, then for ill, but won’t be permitted to ignore her.
I guess in an age where there was no TV, movies, internet, or even radio to provide interesting stories, a bored, self-involved, yet creative person just made up his/her own plot lines and manipulated others into acting them out.
I see that I haven’t quite been doing this right –probably because I joined several weeks late. So far, I’m caught up through week 2 (pp. 1-122). I posted at each week’s section after I finished that one, but it occurs to me that hardly anyone would notice. So here are the two posts so far:
For week 1: I wonder if this Doestoevsky guy can be trusted.
For week 2: One of the things I found most interesting about this section was the discussion in the early part of it about the relationship between Church and State. It gave me an insight on how different 19th century Russian thinking was from contemporary American thinking on this topic. And yet, in some ways, the same.
I’ll post other comments as I catch up.
I’m catching up! I’m catching up!
Comments on Week 3: I was so repelled by the sickly sweet caprice of Katerina and so delighted by the sheer devilishness of Grushenka. And wish Lise would hurry up and grow up a little. If she does, I think she has the potential to be an interesting person. If not, then probably not. Time will tell.
More when I’ve read Week 4’s allotment.
I’m catching up – on the comments! Now back to the reading…
I wonder if it would go faster with vodka?
First time my comment was this high on the list, at least!
Hoping to catch up soon, enjoying it but slowly…
It strikes me that, while we 21st century folks can see so well what sort of environment produced these characters, there is still within the book a very 19th century attitude that much behavior is somehow “fated” by inborn characteristics. Several times one or more characters remark that being “a Karamasov” means being sensual — even Aloysha, the sweetly gentle monk.
The funniest scene in the whole book so far seems to me to be the scene where Smerdyakov is sitting with a girl who is hell-bent on flirting with him. Smerdyakov is too busy being sullen to pay attention and is totally oblivious. This seems to be refuting evidence of either: a. the suspicion that Smerdyakov is not Fyodor’s bastard son by Lizaveta; or b. the contention I mentioned above that all Karamazovs are in thrall to sensuality.
This far in, I’m giving up hope that much more than talk is going to happen anytime soon. Which is weird, because when I tally it up, there’s a lot that’s gone down: Fyodor attacked by his son, Alyosha (“Richie C.!”) having his finger bit, Lise getting engaged, Zosima about to die, etc.
Because these events take place so suddenly and unexpectedly though, and their meanings are deferred to make room for the next shocking outburst, they don’t often give the sense of “building” toward a plot. I don’t look forward to what’s going to happen next because I don’t have any confidence that it will stem from what’s come before. Like Henry Ford’s criticism of history, the book’s “just one damn thing after another.”
I can see how that’s part of the point—we’re don’t know what’s going to happen next any more than, say, Captain Snegiryov knows he’s going to refuse Alyosha’s money (“O, he understood that the captain had not known until the very last moment he would crumple the bills and fling them down,” p. 212), or Fyodor Pavlovich knew he was going to burst in on that monastery dinner after vowing to leave. Dostoevsky seems to want to shift attention to the moment, where you’re stuck in an all-consuming, operatic “now.”
In return for abandoning the pleasures of plot, you get these sharply drawn psychological portraits of remarkable insight. Snegiryov and his son is pure waterworks, and Ivan’s analysis of Katerina Ivanova on p. 192—“You precisely love him as he is, you love him insulting you”—is a spot-on description of the classic co-dependent. Like the Old Man in Kansas, I especially respond to those moments where Dostoevsky’s characters realize they’re “performing” their emotions, like actors on a stage, in part to cover up the pride and ego hiding behind their self-abasement, or the shame at the base of wild their self-assertion.
And now Alyosha’s dropping the Richie C. routine, copping to sex(?) (“…you are more innocent than I am, and I’ve already touched many, many things,” p. 218) and doubt (“And, look, maybe I don’t even believe in God,” p. 230). So maybe things are picking up.
I enjoyed the irony of Smerdyakov’s statement (I’m assuming he’s Pavlovich’s son here): “The Russian people need thrashing, miss, as Fyodor Pavlovich right said yesterday, though he’s a madman, he and all his children, miss.”
I also particularly enjoyed Ivan’s “tirade” at the end and am looking forward to discovering why and how he “does not accept the world”.
Aside from this, as Rodney said above, I’m eager for this “terrible catastrophe” that Alyosha keeps presupposing, ie. a significant plot development rather than continual umming and erring over life’s great questions, but then again this is Dostoevsky…
My favourite theatrical moment of this chunk is when Madame Khokhlakov (who i really like, mainly because of her hysterics, and i don’t think this is a typically gendered characterization, almost all the characters are hysterical here apart from Zosima…) says to Lise:
“Lise, for god’s sake, stop shouting! Oh yes, you’re not shouting, it’s I who am shouting, forgive your mama, but i’m in ecstasy, ecstasy, ecstasy!”
Another favourite Madame Khokhlakov line is when she says ‘It’s terrible, it’s the most fantastic comedy’, and that explains pretty much how i feel about the book so far.
Ok, so I”m chugging along, still behind (by the way, seems like I’ve got company in the rear phalanx of the marchers) but I’m not to the Sisyphus point yet, I still feel like I’m making progress, and I come across the whole “insect sensuality” thing from Mitya on page 107-108. “To insects—sensuality! And all of us Karamazovs are like that, and in you, an angel, the same insect lives and stirs up storms in your blood. Storms, because sensuality is a storm, more than a storm!”
This is not Kafka’s insect, though. D. is channeling another D.! Emily Dickinson. See below, from the Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson:
Part Four: Time and Eternity
XCV
DEATH is like the insect
Menacing the tree,
Competent to kill it,
But decoyed may be.
Bait it with the balsam, 5
Seek it with the knife,
Baffle, if it cost you
Everything in life.
Then, if it have burrowed
Out of reach of skill, 10
Ring the tree and leave it,—
’T is the vermin’s will.
And, even better, Emily’s insect AND a Storm!
Part Four: Time and Eternity
CXXVIII
I HEARD a fly buzz when I died;
The stillness round my form
Was like the stillness in the air
Between the heaves of storm.
The eyes beside had wrung them dry, 5
And breaths were gathering sure
For that last onset, when the king
Be witnessed in his power.
I willed my keepsakes, signed away
What portion of me I 10
Could make assignable,—and then
There interposed a fly,
With blue, uncertain, stumbling buzz,
Between the light and me;
And then the windows failed, and then 15
I could not see to see.
And then, from Mitya again on page 108: “The terrible thing is that beauty is not only fearful but also mysterious. Here the devil is struggling with God, and the battlefield is the human heart.”
Back to Emily again:
Part Five: The Single Hound
XIX
SO gay a flower bereaved the mind
As if it were a woe,
Is Beauty an affliction, then?
Tradition ought to know.
Ok, I’m done with my Emily Dickinson rant now.
–I promise to not
bring it up
again—
Unless—
I have to.
This may not be my official post. But I just past a man in the street that had a beard that looked exactly like a whiskbroom! Up to now, I had pictured the whiskbroom as just a longish goatee – NO – I now know it is possible to have a real whiskbroom beard – narrow at the top and spreading out to a length and width exactly like a whiskbroom! I am happy to report that, with great effort, I was able to resist the temptation to grab it, and throw him to the ground (JK).
i’m feeling like i did watching “my dinner with andre.” wishing i were liking it more. not sure it’s worth the effort, but still sitting in my chair. i am caught up for the first time and there is joy in that.
I am still behind but at least now I have hope that I’ll catch up, or otherwise perhaps I’ll stay behind until such time as I finish. I like the descriptions of the layout of the village, the monastery, F’s house.
I am not so convinced that Dostoevsky intends this book to come across as “one damn thing after another.” It is, after all, a very long book with a cast of complex characters (and I am not talking about their goddamn diminutives) — a cast of lead characters that Dostoevsky painstakingly introduced (only to start some oulipo experiment!!?? over tolstoy’s dead cherries!!!), yet without mincing words as to their distinct characteristics. Their natures are not arbitrarily compared natures, placed side by side in random fashion, their natures add sharpness and crispness to one another — they look like brothers, real brothers with real beef and very real sentiments towards one another — AND with what great care does dosto obviously want us to observe that the source of these three boys is Fyodor, a sewage source that will seep into all three boys’ blood.
There are no plots in life, but there are crotchety brothers with heart-attack-causing crutches against one another (that involve intricate cunning and craftiness) — all a person is, is the way they react to their father — and who, but Alyosha, found a surrogate father, who happens to also be a bloody saint? Cross-contamination of personality requires, at most, a friendly smile or a cold shoulder — what is Alyosha more frightened of, the christian ‘fruits of the spirit’ or the total depravity of being born karamazov? He looks in the mirror for the birthmarks.
Smerdyakov says, “As far as verse goes, miss, essentially it’s nonsense. Consider for yourself: who on earth talks in rhymes? And if we all started talking in rhymes, even by order of the authorities, how much would get said, miss?” Oh Smerdyakov, if I did not think you simply forgot the verse, I would say you are clever — but you just aiming to impress the ladies — why else would you carry a guitar out into the garden — to recite free verse!!!
this book is a glorious cornucopia of color so lurid — so much for russia gray!
life before with a tzar
a better life by far!
I still find the book’s psychological portrayals of the characters remarkably modern: Katerina Ivanovna’s plea to Alexei-Alyosha at the bottom of p. 146 to help her win over Dmitri by reasoning that Dmitri is not over her (my words) but merely in despair so that she “can still save him” smacked of Cosmo and Oprah.
My tendency while reading BK is to feel impatient and listless, particularly during the religious debates, until suddenly a rush of story comes on that makes me think: “OK, this is why this book is great.” An example of such a rush: Alyosha going back to the monastery and reading the love letter from Lise and everything that follows after Part II. There’s a beauty that you reach there, the juxtaposition of the world outside the monastery and the silence within it, the reflection on the necessity of loving humanity however difficult. But, I have no doubt I will reach another lull soon.
More about Week 4 pages soon.
I too am bored when it comes to all the religious talk….except I very much liked Ivan’s last tirade (p.235-6) about his acceptance of God.
Also, am I the only one laughing at Lise’s fascination at Alyosha’s ‘dress’? …..
“Listen Alyosha, what are you going to wear when you leave the monastery, what kind of clothes? Don’t laugh, don’t be angry, it’s very, very important to me.”
Aloyosha and Smerdyakov-both different as night and day, both my favorite characters so far.
mostly, it’s still a joy thru this maze of drama, drama, and more drama; but the ‘strain in the drawing room’ chapter with all its hysterics marked the start of some tedium. i’m struck by my inability to get any clear picture of several of the characters, and that is making me think of how often we’re given a litany of contradictory character traits whenever any character is introduced or further described. also, what’s with the bizarrely precocious girls (lise & varvara nikolaevna)? in short, this week’s section seemed a bit slow-going compared with the first couple, but i’m still happily along for the ride.
We’re far enough into this tome that I’m getting glimpses of a plot. ( Though my glimpses may have been created by some of the postings which I wish they wouldn’t). And no matter how critical I’ve been about the “verbal incontinence”, “blather” [Ch.4], and “purposely starting conversations as stupidly as possible” (all terms Dostoevsky uses to describe the mono/dialogs), I find myself well ahead of the current assignment before realizing it. I’m really glad I was invited to make this deathmarch. The religious discussions intrigue me as insertions into this novel, though they usually tend to get tedious before they’re cut off. They are rarely (if ever) ended — just cut off.
i love the scenes with the finger-biter’s family. i don’t have a sense of the big plot, but i don’t miss it (yet)–the short stories are satisfying in themselves. or perhaps they are part of an edifice. (when snegiryov rejects the money, is that story done?)
Still reaching for the magnet but almost hopelessly behind. However, I would like to thank Rachelj for the web site that gives a list of the characters with analysis of them. It does lessen the confusion.
I am impressed that Other Dan is almost caught up.
Gail
I’m finding the stretches of philosophy tough to slog through, starting with that part way back with the elders religion discussion. Tough, but not impossible. Happy to take a day off tomorrow.
The story of the finger-biter’s family has really been the most moving part of the book for me so far on a gut level–the first time I found myself just carried away by everything, turning pages without realizing it. Hopefully that bodes well for the rest of the book.
These last pages have made me realize that I’ve found it difficult to connect with the very alien world of 19th century Russia. I do enjoy the theological debates, but more as debates and less as novel.
I also love the character of Madame Khokhlakov–she seems like she maybe escaped from a Jane Austen novel.
And my sympathy for Aloysha has really grown over the past week, perhaps because he is as baffled by the behavior of the novel’s characters as I often am!
Using a deathmarch name this time…
I’m pretty much caught up at this point, but I’m still amazed at how it kind of goes in fits and starts. Some parts of the book (such as the scene where Mitya explains his history with Katya) fly along while others (I’m looking at you, most scenes about the conflict between church and government) are a real chore.
Justin mentioned to me how he didn’t feel like he had a great sense of the narrative, but I get the feeling it’s much more representative than that.
Some scenes, it doesn’t feel like two actual people having these conversations but rather two parts of society.
Why is it that the week of spring break was the most difficult to get my reading done? I’m borrowing a hotel computer to post this, so I’ll read, cherish and reflect with you all tomorrow. Happy St. Patty’s Day.
After a really crappy day at work today, I am thrilled to find my streetcar stopping just as I get to it. I settle down to finish the last few pages of this section, having finished the great scene between Alyosha and the captain on my morning commute. Then a smelly man sits down next to me, says “The Brothers Karamazov, that was a great book,” and much, much more (20 minutes’ worth of his life story). But he did say an interesting thing: Those Russians–all that stuff about communism and equality and then they turn it into something just as bad as the tsar.
So what is the Russian character displayed here? Histrionic, conflicted, self-destructive, sly…?
I’ve dropped a bit back in the pack, but I’m not ready to spit out the bit.
Fyodor reminds me of my ADD son, who gets into a group of people and is so stimulated by it all that he can’t control his quickfire impulses. Dostoevsky couldn’t have diagnosed the varieties of human behavior, but he’s a master at describing them.
Of course, as in “The Idiot,” Dostoevsky balances his awareness of the extremes of human behavior with a character, in that case Prince Myshkin, and in this, Aloysha, who embodies his ideals. I love all these characters.
I’m still quite enjoying the book. Though I was distracted during this last chunk by how often the characters say “I love you” to each other. Like others, I found the section w/the finger-biter’s family the most compelling bit, and really marveled at Dostoevsky’s psychological portrayal of the father–his moment of crumpling up the bills seemed like the most violent and real act in the book so far to me, one based not on theatrics like Fydor or Katerina but on genuine human emotion.
Here’s another vote for Lise as a top character. Her and Zosima, what a team…
The crumpled-up bills took me back to my bit on stage in La Traviata…
I fly back and forth between loving the dialogue and wishing something more would happen. And so I’m reminded of the writing-workshopper I heard of (second hand), who when reading other participants’ work would read everything in quote marks, then skip to the next quote. She simply couldn’t make herself stop and pay attention to anything that wasn’t dialogue. She’d love this book, but she’d miss the point.
I like how, sometimes, the description of characters and even dialogue, appear very contemporary and right on. I had a similar feeling when we read Don Quixote. I wonder if its that these are great authors that had a view of humanity that transcended their time, if people have been much the same over time, if the translations have a way of making the text and language seem more modern, of if I am just wrong about this.
Fyodor describes Grushenka, “we’re like that – we do everything contrary.” We all know people like that (I know, everyone is thinking So-Called Bill).
Ivan notes Katya’s heroic fidelity to Dmitri, but chalks it up to mere pride.
A great few pages when Alyosha talks with Lise about Snegiryov. Lise makes fun of him for using the wrong phrase. Alyosha responds – “You mean I didnt put it right..” I dont know why, I really liked that. It seemed unnecessary, but thats how people talk.
And after Alyosha psychoanalyzes Snegiryov, Lise says, “Isnt there something in all this reasoning of ours, I mean, of yours, isnt there some contempt for him.. that were examining his soul like this, as if we were looking down on him?” Which is exactly how I felt as I read Alyosha doing it.
And the whole thing with about the spying mother and Lise herself. “of course its very bad to eavesdrop, and of course I am wrong and you are right, but I will eavesdrop anyway.”
I like Alyosha, but he does seem to lie on occasion, or at least reveal facts in a less than forthcoming way to suit his needs. And he often seems not to get whats happening. Which all makes him more interesting.
Found myself just now at the top of p. 214, reading the bit about pining for the pine, and wondering what the translators did here. Surely these two words don’t mean the same thing in Russian. If only we had a scholar of Slavic languages on the March who could clear this up for me….
Also, one of these days I’m going to give Mr. Magoo the sound thrashing he so richly deserves and has been begging for all these years. Maybe as soon as this weekend.
I’m enjoying following Alyosha as he follows the elder’s directive to experience the world. To have the victim of bullying bite Alyosha is an intriguing play on my expectations and a shocking introduction to the world beyond the cult in the forest. It’s also interesting how, given the theme of sensuality, Alyosha experiences this blood letting bite.
The sacred and the profane are all mucked up, as they should be, in the world of this novel. I’m curious to see how Alyosha’s love life develops and wonder how “innocent” he will remain.
Meanwhile, shoe her the damned letter, Alexie!
Oops, forgot to post yesterday. I love the scene with Smerdyakov singing away in falsetto to his ladyfriend while Alexei listens from the gazebo. It’s the most technicolor scene in the book so far, I think, a little comic relief.
Alexei/Alyosha is very sweet… notice how he has yet to act in his own interest even once.
Is anyone else made uneasy by Ivan? He is smart but seems treacherous, he definitely has a dark side that threatens to get the upper hand. At least with Dmitri you know what you’re getting.
I really felt for the whiskbroom family. The poor kid, feverish and sick after witnessing his father’s humiliation… the self-destructive father crumpling up the money…
This book is really surprisingly affecting!
I will be officially caught up tomorrow at 10 a.m. PST. Then I will comment like a real deathmarcher…
Despite a brief yet reasonably tenacious effort to march to the death (so to speak), I must abandon. I’m sad because this has been really fun and worthwhile, but even the fact that the days now appear to be longer, they are still a mere 24-hours, and my dance card has become more full than I had expected. Cecil, thanks for turning me onto this book, I will no doubt continue reading it to the end once I’ve crossed a few major things off of my to-do list. And damnit, I wanted that magnet! Oh well, next deathmarch, for sure.
Still, I’d like to make a final comment about what I’ve read so far: for me, the genius of this novel–at least from the 150 or so pages which I enjoyed–is that Fyodor seems to me to be a weird kind of everyman. What I love about him as a character is that he is so unapolagetic about his outlandishness. To me, _despite_ his self-awareness, he comes across as all *id*, to put it in Freudian terms (although I know this was about half a century before Freud published his works on psychodynamics). I can’t decide if he really has ego or not, since he acts and reacts solely knee-jerk from his gut, from what I’m recalling, but I’m not sure it matters. In any case, aside from being facinatingly paradoxical, he’s incredibly raw.
His behavior and personality are driven by his past and present environments, just like anyone on the planet, and he is simply the expression and reflection of an over-the-top tumultuous life and time. To be able to be so boorish and abusive and still be rich and successful…well, not only is that somewhat enviable, I think, in a shadowy and probably clandestine way, but truth be told, I’m afraid it’s also not so rare, which personally, I find pretty frustrating in our own culture, never mind mid-nineteenth century Russia. Even though I do know he comes to some kind of horrible death, still, that his culture enabled him to succeed while being such an asshole suggests that he was not solely to blame for his rancid behavior. After all, what was there to discourage him?
This is why I love this book. I like Dostoevsky’s truth. At least, the way I interpret it!
Again, thanks so much Cecil. As you can see, just these few weeks have stirred me in a good way, so I’m grateful! Sorry I’m falling off the wagon!
Have fun everyone!
Dosvidania!
alex.
In Strain in the Drawing Room (p. 186-195) Katerina Ivanova reveals herself as the definition of a Drama Queen. In fact Alexei accuses her: “You acted on purpose…acted as if you were in a comedy, in a theater…!” A theater in which she has cast herself as the leading character, and everyone who comes into contact with her must be made to revolve around her life, if not for good, then for ill, but won’t be permitted to ignore her.
I guess in an age where there was no TV, movies, internet, or even radio to provide interesting stories, a bored, self-involved, yet creative person just made up his/her own plot lines and manipulated others into acting them out.
I see that I haven’t quite been doing this right –probably because I joined several weeks late. So far, I’m caught up through week 2 (pp. 1-122). I posted at each week’s section after I finished that one, but it occurs to me that hardly anyone would notice. So here are the two posts so far:
For week 1: I wonder if this Doestoevsky guy can be trusted.
For week 2: One of the things I found most interesting about this section was the discussion in the early part of it about the relationship between Church and State. It gave me an insight on how different 19th century Russian thinking was from contemporary American thinking on this topic. And yet, in some ways, the same.
I’ll post other comments as I catch up.
I’m catching up! I’m catching up!
Comments on Week 3: I was so repelled by the sickly sweet caprice of Katerina and so delighted by the sheer devilishness of Grushenka. And wish Lise would hurry up and grow up a little. If she does, I think she has the potential to be an interesting person. If not, then probably not. Time will tell.
More when I’ve read Week 4’s allotment.
I’m catching up – on the comments! Now back to the reading…
I wonder if it would go faster with vodka?
First time my comment was this high on the list, at least!
Hoping to catch up soon, enjoying it but slowly…
It strikes me that, while we 21st century folks can see so well what sort of environment produced these characters, there is still within the book a very 19th century attitude that much behavior is somehow “fated” by inborn characteristics. Several times one or more characters remark that being “a Karamasov” means being sensual — even Aloysha, the sweetly gentle monk.
The funniest scene in the whole book so far seems to me to be the scene where Smerdyakov is sitting with a girl who is hell-bent on flirting with him. Smerdyakov is too busy being sullen to pay attention and is totally oblivious. This seems to be refuting evidence of either: a. the suspicion that Smerdyakov is not Fyodor’s bastard son by Lizaveta; or b. the contention I mentioned above that all Karamazovs are in thrall to sensuality.
This far in, I’m giving up hope that much more than talk is going to happen anytime soon. Which is weird, because when I tally it up, there’s a lot that’s gone down: Fyodor attacked by his son, Alyosha (“Richie C.!”) having his finger bit, Lise getting engaged, Zosima about to die, etc.
Because these events take place so suddenly and unexpectedly though, and their meanings are deferred to make room for the next shocking outburst, they don’t often give the sense of “building” toward a plot. I don’t look forward to what’s going to happen next because I don’t have any confidence that it will stem from what’s come before. Like Henry Ford’s criticism of history, the book’s “just one damn thing after another.”
I can see how that’s part of the point—we’re don’t know what’s going to happen next any more than, say, Captain Snegiryov knows he’s going to refuse Alyosha’s money (“O, he understood that the captain had not known until the very last moment he would crumple the bills and fling them down,” p. 212), or Fyodor Pavlovich knew he was going to burst in on that monastery dinner after vowing to leave. Dostoevsky seems to want to shift attention to the moment, where you’re stuck in an all-consuming, operatic “now.”
In return for abandoning the pleasures of plot, you get these sharply drawn psychological portraits of remarkable insight. Snegiryov and his son is pure waterworks, and Ivan’s analysis of Katerina Ivanova on p. 192—“You precisely love him as he is, you love him insulting you”—is a spot-on description of the classic co-dependent. Like the Old Man in Kansas, I especially respond to those moments where Dostoevsky’s characters realize they’re “performing” their emotions, like actors on a stage, in part to cover up the pride and ego hiding behind their self-abasement, or the shame at the base of wild their self-assertion.
And now Alyosha’s dropping the Richie C. routine, copping to sex(?) (“…you are more innocent than I am, and I’ve already touched many, many things,” p. 218) and doubt (“And, look, maybe I don’t even believe in God,” p. 230). So maybe things are picking up.
I enjoyed the irony of Smerdyakov’s statement (I’m assuming he’s Pavlovich’s son here): “The Russian people need thrashing, miss, as Fyodor Pavlovich right said yesterday, though he’s a madman, he and all his children, miss.”
I also particularly enjoyed Ivan’s “tirade” at the end and am looking forward to discovering why and how he “does not accept the world”.
Aside from this, as Rodney said above, I’m eager for this “terrible catastrophe” that Alyosha keeps presupposing, ie. a significant plot development rather than continual umming and erring over life’s great questions, but then again this is Dostoevsky…
My favourite theatrical moment of this chunk is when Madame Khokhlakov (who i really like, mainly because of her hysterics, and i don’t think this is a typically gendered characterization, almost all the characters are hysterical here apart from Zosima…) says to Lise:
“Lise, for god’s sake, stop shouting! Oh yes, you’re not shouting, it’s I who am shouting, forgive your mama, but i’m in ecstasy, ecstasy, ecstasy!”
Another favourite Madame Khokhlakov line is when she says ‘It’s terrible, it’s the most fantastic comedy’, and that explains pretty much how i feel about the book so far.
Ok, so I”m chugging along, still behind (by the way, seems like I’ve got company in the rear phalanx of the marchers) but I’m not to the Sisyphus point yet, I still feel like I’m making progress, and I come across the whole “insect sensuality” thing from Mitya on page 107-108. “To insects—sensuality! And all of us Karamazovs are like that, and in you, an angel, the same insect lives and stirs up storms in your blood. Storms, because sensuality is a storm, more than a storm!”
This is not Kafka’s insect, though. D. is channeling another D.! Emily Dickinson. See below, from the Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson:
Part Four: Time and Eternity
XCV
DEATH is like the insect
Menacing the tree,
Competent to kill it,
But decoyed may be.
Bait it with the balsam, 5
Seek it with the knife,
Baffle, if it cost you
Everything in life.
Then, if it have burrowed
Out of reach of skill, 10
Ring the tree and leave it,—
’T is the vermin’s will.
And, even better, Emily’s insect AND a Storm!
Part Four: Time and Eternity
CXXVIII
I HEARD a fly buzz when I died;
The stillness round my form
Was like the stillness in the air
Between the heaves of storm.
The eyes beside had wrung them dry, 5
And breaths were gathering sure
For that last onset, when the king
Be witnessed in his power.
I willed my keepsakes, signed away
What portion of me I 10
Could make assignable,—and then
There interposed a fly,
With blue, uncertain, stumbling buzz,
Between the light and me;
And then the windows failed, and then 15
I could not see to see.
And then, from Mitya again on page 108: “The terrible thing is that beauty is not only fearful but also mysterious. Here the devil is struggling with God, and the battlefield is the human heart.”
Back to Emily again:
Part Five: The Single Hound
XIX
SO gay a flower bereaved the mind
As if it were a woe,
Is Beauty an affliction, then?
Tradition ought to know.
Ok, I’m done with my Emily Dickinson rant now.
–I promise to not
bring it up
again—
Unless—
I have to.
This may not be my official post. But I just past a man in the street that had a beard that looked exactly like a whiskbroom! Up to now, I had pictured the whiskbroom as just a longish goatee – NO – I now know it is possible to have a real whiskbroom beard – narrow at the top and spreading out to a length and width exactly like a whiskbroom! I am happy to report that, with great effort, I was able to resist the temptation to grab it, and throw him to the ground (JK).
i’m feeling like i did watching “my dinner with andre.” wishing i were liking it more. not sure it’s worth the effort, but still sitting in my chair. i am caught up for the first time and there is joy in that.
I am still behind but at least now I have hope that I’ll catch up, or otherwise perhaps I’ll stay behind until such time as I finish. I like the descriptions of the layout of the village, the monastery, F’s house.
I am not so convinced that Dostoevsky intends this book to come across as “one damn thing after another.” It is, after all, a very long book with a cast of complex characters (and I am not talking about their goddamn diminutives) — a cast of lead characters that Dostoevsky painstakingly introduced (only to start some oulipo experiment!!?? over tolstoy’s dead cherries!!!), yet without mincing words as to their distinct characteristics. Their natures are not arbitrarily compared natures, placed side by side in random fashion, their natures add sharpness and crispness to one another — they look like brothers, real brothers with real beef and very real sentiments towards one another — AND with what great care does dosto obviously want us to observe that the source of these three boys is Fyodor, a sewage source that will seep into all three boys’ blood.
There are no plots in life, but there are crotchety brothers with heart-attack-causing crutches against one another (that involve intricate cunning and craftiness) — all a person is, is the way they react to their father — and who, but Alyosha, found a surrogate father, who happens to also be a bloody saint? Cross-contamination of personality requires, at most, a friendly smile or a cold shoulder — what is Alyosha more frightened of, the christian ‘fruits of the spirit’ or the total depravity of being born karamazov? He looks in the mirror for the birthmarks.
Smerdyakov says, “As far as verse goes, miss, essentially it’s nonsense. Consider for yourself: who on earth talks in rhymes? And if we all started talking in rhymes, even by order of the authorities, how much would get said, miss?” Oh Smerdyakov, if I did not think you simply forgot the verse, I would say you are clever — but you just aiming to impress the ladies — why else would you carry a guitar out into the garden — to recite free verse!!!
this book is a glorious cornucopia of color so lurid — so much for russia gray!
life before with a tzar
a better life by far!
I still find the book’s psychological portrayals of the characters remarkably modern: Katerina Ivanovna’s plea to Alexei-Alyosha at the bottom of p. 146 to help her win over Dmitri by reasoning that Dmitri is not over her (my words) but merely in despair so that she “can still save him” smacked of Cosmo and Oprah.
My tendency while reading BK is to feel impatient and listless, particularly during the religious debates, until suddenly a rush of story comes on that makes me think: “OK, this is why this book is great.” An example of such a rush: Alyosha going back to the monastery and reading the love letter from Lise and everything that follows after Part II. There’s a beauty that you reach there, the juxtaposition of the world outside the monastery and the silence within it, the reflection on the necessity of loving humanity however difficult. But, I have no doubt I will reach another lull soon.
More about Week 4 pages soon.
I too am bored when it comes to all the religious talk….except I very much liked Ivan’s last tirade (p.235-6) about his acceptance of God.
Also, am I the only one laughing at Lise’s fascination at Alyosha’s ‘dress’? …..
“Listen Alyosha, what are you going to wear when you leave the monastery, what kind of clothes? Don’t laugh, don’t be angry, it’s very, very important to me.”
Aloyosha and Smerdyakov-both different as night and day, both my favorite characters so far.
mostly, it’s still a joy thru this maze of drama, drama, and more drama; but the ‘strain in the drawing room’ chapter with all its hysterics marked the start of some tedium. i’m struck by my inability to get any clear picture of several of the characters, and that is making me think of how often we’re given a litany of contradictory character traits whenever any character is introduced or further described. also, what’s with the bizarrely precocious girls (lise & varvara nikolaevna)? in short, this week’s section seemed a bit slow-going compared with the first couple, but i’m still happily along for the ride.
We’re far enough into this tome that I’m getting glimpses of a plot. ( Though my glimpses may have been created by some of the postings which I wish they wouldn’t). And no matter how critical I’ve been about the “verbal incontinence”, “blather” [Ch.4], and “purposely starting conversations as stupidly as possible” (all terms Dostoevsky uses to describe the mono/dialogs), I find myself well ahead of the current assignment before realizing it. I’m really glad I was invited to make this deathmarch. The religious discussions intrigue me as insertions into this novel, though they usually tend to get tedious before they’re cut off. They are rarely (if ever) ended — just cut off.
i love the scenes with the finger-biter’s family. i don’t have a sense of the big plot, but i don’t miss it (yet)–the short stories are satisfying in themselves. or perhaps they are part of an edifice. (when snegiryov rejects the money, is that story done?)
Still reaching for the magnet but almost hopelessly behind. However, I would like to thank Rachelj for the web site that gives a list of the characters with analysis of them. It does lessen the confusion.
I am impressed that Other Dan is almost caught up.
Gail
I’m finding the stretches of philosophy tough to slog through, starting with that part way back with the elders religion discussion. Tough, but not impossible. Happy to take a day off tomorrow.
I am very far behind because of a stack of student “essays.” I don’t know if this counts as a post, but I am still reading.
I am very far behind because of a stack of student “essays.” I don’t know if this counts as a post, but I am still reading.
The story of the finger-biter’s family has really been the most moving part of the book for me so far on a gut level–the first time I found myself just carried away by everything, turning pages without realizing it. Hopefully that bodes well for the rest of the book.
These last pages have made me realize that I’ve found it difficult to connect with the very alien world of 19th century Russia. I do enjoy the theological debates, but more as debates and less as novel.
I also love the character of Madame Khokhlakov–she seems like she maybe escaped from a Jane Austen novel.
And my sympathy for Aloysha has really grown over the past week, perhaps because he is as baffled by the behavior of the novel’s characters as I often am!
Using a deathmarch name this time…
I’m pretty much caught up at this point, but I’m still amazed at how it kind of goes in fits and starts. Some parts of the book (such as the scene where Mitya explains his history with Katya) fly along while others (I’m looking at you, most scenes about the conflict between church and government) are a real chore.
Justin mentioned to me how he didn’t feel like he had a great sense of the narrative, but I get the feeling it’s much more representative than that.
Some scenes, it doesn’t feel like two actual people having these conversations but rather two parts of society.
Why is it that the week of spring break was the most difficult to get my reading done? I’m borrowing a hotel computer to post this, so I’ll read, cherish and reflect with you all tomorrow. Happy St. Patty’s Day.
After a really crappy day at work today, I am thrilled to find my streetcar stopping just as I get to it. I settle down to finish the last few pages of this section, having finished the great scene between Alyosha and the captain on my morning commute. Then a smelly man sits down next to me, says “The Brothers Karamazov, that was a great book,” and much, much more (20 minutes’ worth of his life story). But he did say an interesting thing: Those Russians–all that stuff about communism and equality and then they turn it into something just as bad as the tsar.
So what is the Russian character displayed here? Histrionic, conflicted, self-destructive, sly…?
I’ve dropped a bit back in the pack, but I’m not ready to spit out the bit.
Fyodor reminds me of my ADD son, who gets into a group of people and is so stimulated by it all that he can’t control his quickfire impulses. Dostoevsky couldn’t have diagnosed the varieties of human behavior, but he’s a master at describing them.
Of course, as in “The Idiot,” Dostoevsky balances his awareness of the extremes of human behavior with a character, in that case Prince Myshkin, and in this, Aloysha, who embodies his ideals. I love all these characters.
I’m still quite enjoying the book. Though I was distracted during this last chunk by how often the characters say “I love you” to each other. Like others, I found the section w/the finger-biter’s family the most compelling bit, and really marveled at Dostoevsky’s psychological portrayal of the father–his moment of crumpling up the bills seemed like the most violent and real act in the book so far to me, one based not on theatrics like Fydor or Katerina but on genuine human emotion.
Here’s another vote for Lise as a top character. Her and Zosima, what a team…
The crumpled-up bills took me back to my bit on stage in La Traviata…
I fly back and forth between loving the dialogue and wishing something more would happen. And so I’m reminded of the writing-workshopper I heard of (second hand), who when reading other participants’ work would read everything in quote marks, then skip to the next quote. She simply couldn’t make herself stop and pay attention to anything that wasn’t dialogue. She’d love this book, but she’d miss the point.
I like how, sometimes, the description of characters and even dialogue, appear very contemporary and right on. I had a similar feeling when we read Don Quixote. I wonder if its that these are great authors that had a view of humanity that transcended their time, if people have been much the same over time, if the translations have a way of making the text and language seem more modern, of if I am just wrong about this.
Fyodor describes Grushenka, “we’re like that – we do everything contrary.” We all know people like that (I know, everyone is thinking So-Called Bill).
Ivan notes Katya’s heroic fidelity to Dmitri, but chalks it up to mere pride.
A great few pages when Alyosha talks with Lise about Snegiryov. Lise makes fun of him for using the wrong phrase. Alyosha responds – “You mean I didnt put it right..” I dont know why, I really liked that. It seemed unnecessary, but thats how people talk.
And after Alyosha psychoanalyzes Snegiryov, Lise says, “Isnt there something in all this reasoning of ours, I mean, of yours, isnt there some contempt for him.. that were examining his soul like this, as if we were looking down on him?” Which is exactly how I felt as I read Alyosha doing it.
And the whole thing with about the spying mother and Lise herself. “of course its very bad to eavesdrop, and of course I am wrong and you are right, but I will eavesdrop anyway.”
I like Alyosha, but he does seem to lie on occasion, or at least reveal facts in a less than forthcoming way to suit his needs. And he often seems not to get whats happening. Which all makes him more interesting.
Interesting Fyodor’s views on Ivan. “I refuse to acknowledge Ivan. Where did he come from? He’s not one of our kind at all.” Almost caught up.
Found myself just now at the top of p. 214, reading the bit about pining for the pine, and wondering what the translators did here. Surely these two words don’t mean the same thing in Russian. If only we had a scholar of Slavic languages on the March who could clear this up for me….
Also, one of these days I’m going to give Mr. Magoo the sound thrashing he so richly deserves and has been begging for all these years. Maybe as soon as this weekend.
I’m enjoying following Alyosha as he follows the elder’s directive to experience the world. To have the victim of bullying bite Alyosha is an intriguing play on my expectations and a shocking introduction to the world beyond the cult in the forest. It’s also interesting how, given the theme of sensuality, Alyosha experiences this blood letting bite.
The sacred and the profane are all mucked up, as they should be, in the world of this novel. I’m curious to see how Alyosha’s love life develops and wonder how “innocent” he will remain.
Meanwhile, shoe her the damned letter, Alexie!
weak 4
still reading and still posting late (this counts right?)
Ditto: Still reading and still posting late. Plan to catch up tonight. Why can’t I remember that I’m supposed to post on Tuesday, not Wednesday?
Oops, forgot to post yesterday. I love the scene with Smerdyakov singing away in falsetto to his ladyfriend while Alexei listens from the gazebo. It’s the most technicolor scene in the book so far, I think, a little comic relief.
Alexei/Alyosha is very sweet… notice how he has yet to act in his own interest even once.
Is anyone else made uneasy by Ivan? He is smart but seems treacherous, he definitely has a dark side that threatens to get the upper hand. At least with Dmitri you know what you’re getting.
I really felt for the whiskbroom family. The poor kid, feverish and sick after witnessing his father’s humiliation… the self-destructive father crumpling up the money…
This book is really surprisingly affecting!
Still behind but hopefully not hopelessly. Not behind in reading everybody else’s comments, however.
Gail