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The Making of the Christian Imagination
Dostoevsky: Language, Faith, and Fiction
Rowan Williams explores the intricacies of speech, fiction, metaphor, and iconography in the works of one of literature's most complex, and most complexly misunderstood, authors. Williams' investigation focuses on the four major novels of Dostoevsky's maturity (Crime and Punishment, The Idiot, Devils, and The Brothers Karamozov). He argues that understanding Dostoevsky's style and goals as a writer of fiction is inseparable from understanding his religious commitments. Any reader who enters the rich and insightful world of Williams' Dostoevsky will emerge a more thoughtful and appreciative reader for it.
285 pages, Hardcover
First published July 14, 2008
40 people are currently reading
939 people want to read
About the author
Rowan Williams
251 books333 followersRowan Douglas Williams, Baron Williams of Oystermouth, is an Anglican bishop, poet, and theologian. He was Archbishop of Canterbury from December 2002-2012, and is now Master of Magdalene College, Cambridge and Chancellor of the University of South Wales.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 30 reviews
January 31, 2009
Very heavy lifting. However, if you like George Steiner (and I do), then you should like this. Rowan Williams (who is also the Archbishop of Canterbury), is a first-class literary critic. The only reason I didn't give this five stars, was that I found my interest wavering in the last third of the book. I've read most of Dostoevsky's works, but it's been many years, and Williams spends some considerable time discussing second tier characters and incidents that I just can't recall all that clearly anymore. Still, if you're looking for stimulating discussions of the major novels, or moments (like the Grand Inquisitor portion of the Brothers K), you should find this a rewarding read. The Dostoevsky that emerges from this book is a great and innovative thinker, both as a novelist and as a Christian. There was nothing static about Dostoevsky's faith, it was dynamic and immediate. And it is this immediacy, often displayed in the dialogue between characters, that jumps off the pages of his great books. In fact, dialogue in Dostoevsky, Williams notes, is key. It reveals the continually unfolding self to others, and in this lies the potential for love and the hope for salvation.
May 18, 2015
I am a huge fan of Dostoyevsky and I have appreciated the work of Rowan Williams in the past, so when i discovered this book, reading it was a no-brainer. But the other reviews I read here on Goodreads were correct - this is a difficult book. I was hoping for some insights on Dostoyevsky's work, which I got, but the book is really graduate-level literary criticism. Reading this demands a recollection of plot details from Dostoyevsky's four major works, so if you have not read them recently you may be hard-pressed to remember the scenes he is discussing. Honestly, early on I thought about giving up. But if you stick with it, even if you do not recall all the plot points Williams discusses, you do get some great insight into Dostoyevsky. I found most thought-provoking how Williams shows that Dostoyevsky does not tie off everything in great detail but instead leaves things open, demanding the reader to think. This is in contrast with the diabolical in his stories which seeks to control and bring an end to freedom. While the diabolical would shut down all conversation, the narrative drives us to keep it going, to give space to the other in their freedom and have continuing dialogue.
So should you read it? If you are a fan of Dostoyevsky and have read his four major works, then sure, give it a shot. I gave it four stars because on merit it is worth four, maybe five stars. But I do wish there was a more accessible book for casual readers who want to see these themes in Dostoyevsky without reading a graduate level work of literary criticism. I assume there are such books, so i can't fault Williams for not writing one, I just am not familiar with them.
So should you read it? If you are a fan of Dostoyevsky and have read his four major works, then sure, give it a shot. I gave it four stars because on merit it is worth four, maybe five stars. But I do wish there was a more accessible book for casual readers who want to see these themes in Dostoyevsky without reading a graduate level work of literary criticism. I assume there are such books, so i can't fault Williams for not writing one, I just am not familiar with them.
April 20, 2021
Dithered between 4 and 5 stars. This is a genuinely really good book on Dostoevsky and Christianity, and my only complaints with it can be reduced to the unavoidable fact that I am not Christian, and both the author and subject of this book are. I would, however, pose a pretty serious question to Williams about Dostoevsky’s racism and nationalism, and how he characterises them. They are not, as Williams tends to suggest, ‘obstacles’ to understanding Dostoevsky’s worthwhile image of Christianity: they are a serious and fundamental feature of his Christianity. It is impossible to separate Dostoevsky’s dislike for those who allow the mundane and material to take precedent over the transcendent/holy from his belief that Jewish people were fundamentally trapped in ‘mundane’ matters like material wealth. It is likewise wrong to see his repeated usage of ‘connection with the earth’ as *solely* a moment where a human brings themselves into contact with the world around them and acknowledges their place in communion with others: it is also deeply representative of his belief that Russia, and the Russian nation as a political entity, held a power and truth that was inherently greater than the power and truth of other nations, so much so that it had the right to dominate them through force. In Williams’ defence, this is an understanding that a reader is well-equipped to come to anyway, and it’s in the spirit of Dostoevsky (and Bakhtin, who Williams uses seriously and thoughtfully) that any understanding of this book is one that has to be come to in dialogue with it, not just by taking in its content at face value.
March 8, 2023
Whoa! Surprisingly richer and more insightful than I imagined anything written about Dostoevsky's major works could be. The first half of the book is as good as it gets. Unfortunately, I couldn't fully connect with (in terms of insights) the second part. But, definitely 5 stars (the first half balances out the second half.)
October 15, 2012
Great book. Much to think over. Anyone meaning to read this needs to have a decent handle on the major and even secondary characters of the four primary novels. I've jotted down a few notes on each chapter in an effort to keep the ideas fresh. What I most appreciate about the book is the focus on the form of Dostoevsky's fiction as it is connected to his overall faith and view of the world. It isn't just the what of the novels that matter, but the how he puts it all together that makes them such profound works of art.
In chapter 1, Williams begins with Dostoevsky's famous quote that in a debate between Christ and truth, he would choose Christ. Williams then traces the ideas and form of Dostoevsky's work, beginning with the Underground Man and culminating with an extensive discussion of The Brothers Karamazov, in an effort to make clear that through their distinctive form, the novels open a way for faith in the violent and ideologically driven modern world. For the Underground Man, freedom is essential, even if that means having the freedom to choose what is not good for us. Ivan Karamazov's Inquisitor offers one answer to the problems that come with such a choice: bowing down before a Christ driven by a desire to provide security for his people. Thus Christ becomes synonymous with the truth (a set of propositions), and in turn does violence to human freedom. However, with Christ's kiss of the Inquisitor, and its being modeled by Alyosha later in the novel, Ivan's parable fails. The free gesture of compassion flies in the face of the dominating power offered to Christ. Later, Ivan's encounter with the Devil reveals the presence of the irrational in humanity, and as such is able to call into question our allegiance to propositions, bringing us back into the narrative of our lives. And this is why Dostoevsky's fiction opens the way for faith--in its refusal to close of the narrative with simple resolutions, Dostoevsky calls the reader to engage with the narrative, a process that is possible only because of his refusal to tie off the story. We can find a way forward in fiction for both truth and Christ only when we consider neither over and passe, but ongoing and present.
Chapter 2 focuses on the essence of the diabolical in Dostoevsky, bringing the bulk of its insight from his novel, Devils. In this chapter, Williams argues that the diabolical is the antithesis of freedom and choice. The "devils" in this novel seek to control others, to make them a part of a political or social movement, to bring them to a place where they give up their choice and go only with the diabolical. In this loss of choice, people fall into not just the antithesis of freedom, but also the antithesis of true Christian faith.
Chapter 3 covers the way that dialogue functions in Dostoevsky's narratives to illustrate the freedom of the characters. These are people who enter into encounters with others. No one has the last word on the way things are, including, famously, the narrators, who in the last two novels are local personages who would in some cases have no way of knowing about an event through their own personal witness. In this fact though there is freedom, for if one does not have the last word, one cannot shut down the conversation. One must always seek the other, must always seek the truth. There is grace in the ongoing-ness of these "limited" characters.
The connection between conversation and taking responsibility for the other marks the subject of chapter 4. Williams illustrates the different ways encounters play out by contrasting two exchanges of crosses in two different novels. Essentially, to take responsibility for another does not suggest that we take responsibility from someone else. Instead, taking responsibility for someone involves giving voice to them, speaking out in their behalf for what are truly their concerns while giving the other person space and time to truly be themselves. This is seen in contrast to the diabolical narrative which seeks to shut out freedom and ends in silence. The ongoing conversation with someone truly other opens the way for self-renewal for it opens a path out of ourselves.
Chapter 5 concludes the book with a discussion of the way that holy images, or icons, function within Dostoevsky's fiction. Williams draws on a couple of primary examples of icons being blasphemed, leading to a recognition that the holy makes itself manifest in and through the material world. And since this is so, the author becomes an image-maker himself, crafting a narrative--just as true icons are rooted in historical narratives to tie them to the material world. Such image-making by the author leaves an open world, prepared for dialogue. If the author attempts to be too definitive, it steps outside the reality of the fictional world and fails to ring true as an icon.
In chapter 1, Williams begins with Dostoevsky's famous quote that in a debate between Christ and truth, he would choose Christ. Williams then traces the ideas and form of Dostoevsky's work, beginning with the Underground Man and culminating with an extensive discussion of The Brothers Karamazov, in an effort to make clear that through their distinctive form, the novels open a way for faith in the violent and ideologically driven modern world. For the Underground Man, freedom is essential, even if that means having the freedom to choose what is not good for us. Ivan Karamazov's Inquisitor offers one answer to the problems that come with such a choice: bowing down before a Christ driven by a desire to provide security for his people. Thus Christ becomes synonymous with the truth (a set of propositions), and in turn does violence to human freedom. However, with Christ's kiss of the Inquisitor, and its being modeled by Alyosha later in the novel, Ivan's parable fails. The free gesture of compassion flies in the face of the dominating power offered to Christ. Later, Ivan's encounter with the Devil reveals the presence of the irrational in humanity, and as such is able to call into question our allegiance to propositions, bringing us back into the narrative of our lives. And this is why Dostoevsky's fiction opens the way for faith--in its refusal to close of the narrative with simple resolutions, Dostoevsky calls the reader to engage with the narrative, a process that is possible only because of his refusal to tie off the story. We can find a way forward in fiction for both truth and Christ only when we consider neither over and passe, but ongoing and present.
Chapter 2 focuses on the essence of the diabolical in Dostoevsky, bringing the bulk of its insight from his novel, Devils. In this chapter, Williams argues that the diabolical is the antithesis of freedom and choice. The "devils" in this novel seek to control others, to make them a part of a political or social movement, to bring them to a place where they give up their choice and go only with the diabolical. In this loss of choice, people fall into not just the antithesis of freedom, but also the antithesis of true Christian faith.
Chapter 3 covers the way that dialogue functions in Dostoevsky's narratives to illustrate the freedom of the characters. These are people who enter into encounters with others. No one has the last word on the way things are, including, famously, the narrators, who in the last two novels are local personages who would in some cases have no way of knowing about an event through their own personal witness. In this fact though there is freedom, for if one does not have the last word, one cannot shut down the conversation. One must always seek the other, must always seek the truth. There is grace in the ongoing-ness of these "limited" characters.
The connection between conversation and taking responsibility for the other marks the subject of chapter 4. Williams illustrates the different ways encounters play out by contrasting two exchanges of crosses in two different novels. Essentially, to take responsibility for another does not suggest that we take responsibility from someone else. Instead, taking responsibility for someone involves giving voice to them, speaking out in their behalf for what are truly their concerns while giving the other person space and time to truly be themselves. This is seen in contrast to the diabolical narrative which seeks to shut out freedom and ends in silence. The ongoing conversation with someone truly other opens the way for self-renewal for it opens a path out of ourselves.
Chapter 5 concludes the book with a discussion of the way that holy images, or icons, function within Dostoevsky's fiction. Williams draws on a couple of primary examples of icons being blasphemed, leading to a recognition that the holy makes itself manifest in and through the material world. And since this is so, the author becomes an image-maker himself, crafting a narrative--just as true icons are rooted in historical narratives to tie them to the material world. Such image-making by the author leaves an open world, prepared for dialogue. If the author attempts to be too definitive, it steps outside the reality of the fictional world and fails to ring true as an icon.
June 12, 2016
I wanted to like this book, but I did not. I have read virtually all of Dostoevsky and a good deal of secondary literature. To follow this book, you have to not only have read the 4 big novels (BK, C&P, Demons & Idiot), but also remember them well enough to recall scenes on demand. I found the book too dense and diffuse to appreciate. Reading this book feels like swimming underwater. You have little sense of overview or where you are, and the thoughts keep coming with no let-up or chance to take a breath. The chapters felt more like separate papers, not like a developing process. There is a conclusion-chapter, which helped a bit. But it felt more to me like a post hoc and ad hoc attempt to tie things together. At the end, all I can really say about the content is that D. sees the construction of a novel as somewhat analogous to God's creation of the world, with similar issues of freedom within constraint. I would recommend this only to professional scholars of D. Not for enthusiastic amateurs like myself.
July 10, 2020
The book may be a masterpiece in literary analysis, but it was way beyond my knowledge of or interest in Dostoevsky. I don't have enough training in literary analysis to appreciate this book and my interest in Dostoevsky is very simple. I've never been a great fan of Russian novels, but have found portions of Dostoevsky to be masterful. But I've been puzzled by the professional analysis of his writing. The only course I took in college which had us read something of Dostoevsky listed him as espousing atheism. I have no idea why except that it seems to me many people want writers to be systematic and consistent in all they write. It is possible that Dostoevsky is pointing out that a world in which God is apprehended through faith defies being understood systematically or only by logic. Faith is not necessarily based on the best evidence, or the most evidence or even the most convincing evidence. People believe or disbelieve for many reasons not all of them logical, evidence based or without contradiction. Believers often live with ambivalence and ambiguity as due non-believers. Believers and non-believers are shaped by personal, subjective experiences. Religion is one thing which is not based purely in logic and reason and facts. To insist that all believers must be systematic in their thinking is to deny the experience of faith. Believers can be moved by or even convinced by poetry, beauty, art, music, creation itself all of which may or may not be logical.
June 9, 2023
I am a fan of both Rowan Williams and Dostoevsky and this was a book which highlights the brilliance of the two. Williams writes with such insight that he has I appreciate Dostoevsky even more. My desire is greater to not only read the complete works of Dostoevsky but also to reread everything I have read to date with new eyes. I didn't just value this work for Williams' treatment of Dostoevsky but also because it has both furthered and challenged my theological thinking in general.
April 12, 2021
Incredible book. I've read most of the books RW discusses and still I found it difficult to keep up with his brilliant writing. Essential ancillary reading for Dostoevsky.
December 15, 2014
rather disappointing from an 'intelligent' churchman.
Williams starts by mentioning crucial importance of the famous Fonvizina letter, then quickly forgets it and argues the exact opposite of what it entails (the importance of beauty over truth).
Although he refers to the importance of Bakhtin, he doesn't seem to have the measure of that guy either.
For some reason (not hard to understand in a trendy vicar) he seems to have an animus against "The Idiot" (Myshkin in particular).
I wrote to RW to express my misgivings (in 80pp of foolscap) but (understandably perhaps) never heard back
Williams starts by mentioning crucial importance of the famous Fonvizina letter, then quickly forgets it and argues the exact opposite of what it entails (the importance of beauty over truth).
Although he refers to the importance of Bakhtin, he doesn't seem to have the measure of that guy either.
For some reason (not hard to understand in a trendy vicar) he seems to have an animus against "The Idiot" (Myshkin in particular).
I wrote to RW to express my misgivings (in 80pp of foolscap) but (understandably perhaps) never heard back
Read
December 6, 2021One of my favorite books. Williams' literary and theological intelligence is on full display in this careful and nuanced reading of Dostoevsky. The Archbishop of Canterbury is able to use both his keen literary sensibilities and knowledge of Russian Orthodoxy (Williams wrote his doctoral thesis at Cambridge on the Russian Orthodox theologian Vladimir Lossky) to significant effect. Familiarity with Dostoevsky's major novels is required, and the book is dense at times, but well worth the effort.
October 29, 2015
Dostoevsky isn't the easiest novelist to understand. Rowan Williams certainly isn't the easiest theologian to understand. The combination of the two is daunting to say the least. Williams' study (it isn't a biography) of the great Russian author is certainly no page-turner, but it charts very deep waters as we are taken into the nature of language, forgiveness and identity. It probably needs to be read more than once (for those who have the time!)
July 7, 2017
Difficult read. But excellent, excellent read. What great commentary. Excellent commentary about what it is to be human and what makes us less than human. Great stuff. Reminds us of the greatness of God and what it means to follow Christ versus the destruction of our own madness and self-will.
February 20, 2015
Masterful and perceptive study of Dostoevsky. Especially good of course on the theological connections.
March 28, 2024
Did Dostoevsky write “Christian fiction?” This is perhaps a cheesy question, but it gets to the heart of the matter quickly by opening up the other kinds of questions Rowan Williams explores in this foray into Dostoevsky’s life and fiction: What makes fiction “Christian” (or NOT Christian)? How is faith portrayed in Dostoevsky’s novels? What were some of the circumstances of Dostoevsky’s own life and faith that play into his work, and what do we need to know about the greater culture and history of Russia and the Orthodox Church to understand what is going on on a deeper level? And ultimately, how might Dostoevsky’s approach to fiction (as an author “creating” characters and putting them in narrative) function as a theological-literary analog for how God relates to his creation at large?
These are the kinds of questions Rowan Williams addresses in this book. As an amateur reader of Dostoevsky (I read Crime and Punishment and Brothers Karamazov about a decade ago) I was looking for something to take me a little deeper into Dostoevsky’s fiction at large while rereading Karamazov, but I didn’t want to get lost somewhere in the academic stratosphere. This book occupies an in-between space quite nicely: intelligent, but overall still accessible. It’s still decently academic—you will not enjoy it if you haven’t already read any Dostoevsky novels and have no intention of doing so. But anyone in search of supplemental reading to Dostoevsky is probably already “Nerd” enough to enjoy this thoughtful plunge into the worlds of fiction, theology, language, and a little biography and history.
Rowan Williams is not himself an expert in Russian literature or on Dostoevsky (he says as much up front), but he is a phenomenal researcher and synthesizer and certainly an authority in regard to issues of theology and church history, being a former Archbishop of Canterbury and all. This book is a terrific jumping off point for anyone who
1) wants an informed yet approachable intro into Dostoevsky’s life and work (Rowan sports an impressive bibliography) and
2) is particularly interested on what Dostoevsky’s fiction can tell us about Christian belief and our faith lives as felt and experienced in real time.
Item 2 is much more the focus. Rowan makes use of references to D’s journals and some life data points and material from D’s serious biographers (e.g. Joseph Frank) but this is not a biography by any means.
Probably the central idea and argument is that Dostoevsky’s (I’ll refer to him as “D” for short) fiction is not meant to be read as an argument either for or against the existence of God. Rather, D is seeking to demonstrate what it’s LIKE to live a life of faith (or to live its alternative). As such, D’s fiction is essentially open-ended—we do not get to see any obvious resolution in the lives of his characters. We see hints and possibilities, but nothing that “proves” the efficacy of faith over and above atheism (or unconscious unbelief, or half-belief). The characters live life much like we do, in that we don’t know for sure how everything is to play out for them.
Rowan argues that D’s use of narrative uncertainty, however, does NOT imply that D is suggesting a larger metaphysical indeterminacy. This is essentially what Rowan explores in each chapter of this book via different lenses and themes throughout D’s fiction: D’s conception of human freedom and responsibility; his representation of the diabolical; his application of language, art, and narrative as “icons” (signs, symbols, embodiments) of the manifest reality of an invisible God.
Rowan’s take on the theology of D’s fiction is that in the absence of the grounding reality of human worth and purpose in God (even if we can’t “prove” that grounding reality) we’re left with little else than the power of our own will to make value for ourselves. Our only recourse (and life’s only meaning) is to generate meaning from our own choices, to muster forth reality and manage it as best we can, for good or for ill (in D’s case, for ill—this is the pathway to closed-off reality, totalitarianism, violence in the name of the “greater good,” solipsistic despair). This is characteristically the struggle of Raskolnikov in Crime and Punishment, but Rowan traces this in detail throughout D’s other novels as well.
Anyway, this review got long. 4 stars instead of 5 because the flow of ideas within the chapters could be, at times, a little hard to follow. (I try to reserve 5 stars for books that I experience as profoundly exceptional in clarity or impact.) But Rowan does a good job of reiterating his key points after wandering through some major bibliographical weeds, so it’s worth it to hang in there—it comes together. I will certainly return to this book for reference down the road.
These are the kinds of questions Rowan Williams addresses in this book. As an amateur reader of Dostoevsky (I read Crime and Punishment and Brothers Karamazov about a decade ago) I was looking for something to take me a little deeper into Dostoevsky’s fiction at large while rereading Karamazov, but I didn’t want to get lost somewhere in the academic stratosphere. This book occupies an in-between space quite nicely: intelligent, but overall still accessible. It’s still decently academic—you will not enjoy it if you haven’t already read any Dostoevsky novels and have no intention of doing so. But anyone in search of supplemental reading to Dostoevsky is probably already “Nerd” enough to enjoy this thoughtful plunge into the worlds of fiction, theology, language, and a little biography and history.
Rowan Williams is not himself an expert in Russian literature or on Dostoevsky (he says as much up front), but he is a phenomenal researcher and synthesizer and certainly an authority in regard to issues of theology and church history, being a former Archbishop of Canterbury and all. This book is a terrific jumping off point for anyone who
1) wants an informed yet approachable intro into Dostoevsky’s life and work (Rowan sports an impressive bibliography) and
2) is particularly interested on what Dostoevsky’s fiction can tell us about Christian belief and our faith lives as felt and experienced in real time.
Item 2 is much more the focus. Rowan makes use of references to D’s journals and some life data points and material from D’s serious biographers (e.g. Joseph Frank) but this is not a biography by any means.
Probably the central idea and argument is that Dostoevsky’s (I’ll refer to him as “D” for short) fiction is not meant to be read as an argument either for or against the existence of God. Rather, D is seeking to demonstrate what it’s LIKE to live a life of faith (or to live its alternative). As such, D’s fiction is essentially open-ended—we do not get to see any obvious resolution in the lives of his characters. We see hints and possibilities, but nothing that “proves” the efficacy of faith over and above atheism (or unconscious unbelief, or half-belief). The characters live life much like we do, in that we don’t know for sure how everything is to play out for them.
Rowan argues that D’s use of narrative uncertainty, however, does NOT imply that D is suggesting a larger metaphysical indeterminacy. This is essentially what Rowan explores in each chapter of this book via different lenses and themes throughout D’s fiction: D’s conception of human freedom and responsibility; his representation of the diabolical; his application of language, art, and narrative as “icons” (signs, symbols, embodiments) of the manifest reality of an invisible God.
Rowan’s take on the theology of D’s fiction is that in the absence of the grounding reality of human worth and purpose in God (even if we can’t “prove” that grounding reality) we’re left with little else than the power of our own will to make value for ourselves. Our only recourse (and life’s only meaning) is to generate meaning from our own choices, to muster forth reality and manage it as best we can, for good or for ill (in D’s case, for ill—this is the pathway to closed-off reality, totalitarianism, violence in the name of the “greater good,” solipsistic despair). This is characteristically the struggle of Raskolnikov in Crime and Punishment, but Rowan traces this in detail throughout D’s other novels as well.
Anyway, this review got long. 4 stars instead of 5 because the flow of ideas within the chapters could be, at times, a little hard to follow. (I try to reserve 5 stars for books that I experience as profoundly exceptional in clarity or impact.) But Rowan does a good job of reiterating his key points after wandering through some major bibliographical weeds, so it’s worth it to hang in there—it comes together. I will certainly return to this book for reference down the road.
November 14, 2022
”His fears of what we should now call totalitarianism are fears about the corruption and eventual disappearance of politics itself. When dialogue fails, when history is supposed to be over, when certain aspects of the human mind have been recatalogued as pathologically generated illusions, there is no more politics: there is nothing to entertain dialogue about ; nature, in the guise of a definitive account of what human beings timelessly need and how to meet those needs, has defeated culture.” (p.236-237)
This was a read that was as much fun as it was challenging, there were times when it felt dense, but it was also difficult to put down. I loved, in particular, the discussions on Stavrogin and Verhkovensky, as well as on Myshkin and Rogozhin and their “doubling”.
I also really loved the consistent references to Evdokimov and his Dostoevsky commentaries.
Except for these aspects, the whole discussion is intensely interesting, especially about the life- or death-bound moralities, about Christian or atheistic commitment, a theology of writing, and iconic imaginings. There is not much to say except that anyone with an interest in Dostoevsky, theology, or philosophy, will probably enjoy reading this and mull over the topics discussed.
I will need to read this again, but I think I will go back to it piecemeal, more for specific topics (or chapters) rather than to read it cover to cover again, at least not in one go. I definitely want to re-read the sections on Myshkin and Rogozhin, but I will do so in conjunction with re-reading The Idiot. I’ve just been re-reading Devils, and the discussion here on Stavrogin was really great to have on the side of that.
Some quotes, among many, that I enjoyed.
“What happens ‘if God does not exist’ is not that a particular item is withdrawn from the sum total of actual things, not that a crucial sanction against evildoing is taken away, so that no punishment for evil can be guaranteed. It is that we are no longer able to see violence against others as somehow blasphemous, an offense against an eternal order; no longer able to see our dealings with each other as opening on to a depth of interiority that we cannot fathom or exhaust. In a world deprived of such possibilities, it is reasonable enough to respond to a suicide by saying ‘it was the best solution’ [331]; there is nothing definably insane about taking one’s life [669].” Neither of course, is there any reason to think that any other human subject has any more absolute reason to live than oneself” (p.219-220) (refs to Devils)
“Imagining extremes can be self-indulgent and melodramatic. In many situations, all anyone could say is that he does not know how he might decide, but Dostoevsky is insistent that at least we recognize that a decision wil be necessary and that we cannot ‘go home to Kitty’, to borrow his derisive summary of Levin’s conclusion. We need both the imagination that is prepared to face the test of extremity and the humility to realize that we cannot be sure of ourselves in the face of this. What we cannot do is to think as though the terms of our moral commitment could be revised when things get difficult.” (p.241-242)
And of course, to the critics who argue that Dostoevsky doesn’t write complete or satisfying endings. “The Devil is the enemy of real narration – that is, narration with an open future, with the possibility of future choices, further events… “ (p.107). Closed endings is the enemy, so to speak, because when you think of it:
“Every fiction is at its most fictional in its endings, those pretences of closure and settlement.” (p.46)
Projecting something beyond that fictional end is an indication that the story, the dialogue, goes on. As does life. When it doesn’t, even in the metaphorical sense, there is only stagnation and death.
Wonderful book, glad I found it.
This was a read that was as much fun as it was challenging, there were times when it felt dense, but it was also difficult to put down. I loved, in particular, the discussions on Stavrogin and Verhkovensky, as well as on Myshkin and Rogozhin and their “doubling”.
I also really loved the consistent references to Evdokimov and his Dostoevsky commentaries.
Except for these aspects, the whole discussion is intensely interesting, especially about the life- or death-bound moralities, about Christian or atheistic commitment, a theology of writing, and iconic imaginings. There is not much to say except that anyone with an interest in Dostoevsky, theology, or philosophy, will probably enjoy reading this and mull over the topics discussed.
I will need to read this again, but I think I will go back to it piecemeal, more for specific topics (or chapters) rather than to read it cover to cover again, at least not in one go. I definitely want to re-read the sections on Myshkin and Rogozhin, but I will do so in conjunction with re-reading The Idiot. I’ve just been re-reading Devils, and the discussion here on Stavrogin was really great to have on the side of that.
Some quotes, among many, that I enjoyed.
“What happens ‘if God does not exist’ is not that a particular item is withdrawn from the sum total of actual things, not that a crucial sanction against evildoing is taken away, so that no punishment for evil can be guaranteed. It is that we are no longer able to see violence against others as somehow blasphemous, an offense against an eternal order; no longer able to see our dealings with each other as opening on to a depth of interiority that we cannot fathom or exhaust. In a world deprived of such possibilities, it is reasonable enough to respond to a suicide by saying ‘it was the best solution’ [331]; there is nothing definably insane about taking one’s life [669].” Neither of course, is there any reason to think that any other human subject has any more absolute reason to live than oneself” (p.219-220) (refs to Devils)
“Imagining extremes can be self-indulgent and melodramatic. In many situations, all anyone could say is that he does not know how he might decide, but Dostoevsky is insistent that at least we recognize that a decision wil be necessary and that we cannot ‘go home to Kitty’, to borrow his derisive summary of Levin’s conclusion. We need both the imagination that is prepared to face the test of extremity and the humility to realize that we cannot be sure of ourselves in the face of this. What we cannot do is to think as though the terms of our moral commitment could be revised when things get difficult.” (p.241-242)
And of course, to the critics who argue that Dostoevsky doesn’t write complete or satisfying endings. “The Devil is the enemy of real narration – that is, narration with an open future, with the possibility of future choices, further events… “ (p.107). Closed endings is the enemy, so to speak, because when you think of it:
“Every fiction is at its most fictional in its endings, those pretences of closure and settlement.” (p.46)
Projecting something beyond that fictional end is an indication that the story, the dialogue, goes on. As does life. When it doesn’t, even in the metaphorical sense, there is only stagnation and death.
Wonderful book, glad I found it.
March 6, 2025
Stimulating and considered
Like other reviewers, I was directed to this book by Timothy Radcliffe's excellent What Is the Point of Being a Christian?. I read - and greatly enjoyed - most of Dostoevsky's best-known works (Crime and Punishment, The Idiot, Devils, The Brothers Karamazov, and Notes from the Underground) a long time ago, but (or maybe hence) was a little hazy on the details of the plots and characters. Not like Rowan Williams, who's intimately familiar with the texts and the historical and academic literature about their author (he even steps in at one point (p45) to give his own translation of an significant phrase from Karamazov).
However, although it's essential for the reader of this book to have at least some familiarity with the stories (for example, the parable that Ivan Karamazov tells about the Grand Inquisitor's encounter with Christ), I wouldn't necessarily say it was crucial that they refresh their memories of all the details before tackling this, because the author works hard to tease out the ideas that he's interested in. These are indicated by his title, and his observation that "Faith and fiction are deeply related - not because faith is a variant of fiction in the trivial sense but because both are gratuitous linguistic practices standing over against a functional scheme of things" (p46). The second part of this sentence takes a bit of unpicking (in fact, it takes the whole of the rest of the book to do so), but the first part - about faith being a variant of fiction - is startlingly eye-catching, even to those readers who are struggling to progress beyond the trivial.
If they do, they'll encounter the author's main thesis: an analogy between the fictional world and characters which Dostoevsky creates in his stories, and ideas and beliefs about the way our world has come into being, our purpose in it and the consequences of the choices which we make. Even if we're comfortable with the notion of being like characters in a story created by another, this is a heavy burden for Dostoevsky to bear (the analogy would clearly be a lot shakier if we substituted the name of another author - Dan Brown, say - and their fictional world), but Williams thinks he's up to the task because of the richness and complexity of his works, which he explores in depth here. Along the way, he considers ideas about free will, spirituality, charity, love, forgiveness and sacrifice; in spite of the density of the writing which caused me - in spite of paying close attention to the text - to lose my way occasionally, I found these resonated with me and stimulated unlooked-for insights. The patience and effort required to read this book is, in the final analysis, a valuable investment.
Originally reviewed 28 April 2014
Like other reviewers, I was directed to this book by Timothy Radcliffe's excellent What Is the Point of Being a Christian?. I read - and greatly enjoyed - most of Dostoevsky's best-known works (Crime and Punishment, The Idiot, Devils, The Brothers Karamazov, and Notes from the Underground) a long time ago, but (or maybe hence) was a little hazy on the details of the plots and characters. Not like Rowan Williams, who's intimately familiar with the texts and the historical and academic literature about their author (he even steps in at one point (p45) to give his own translation of an significant phrase from Karamazov).
However, although it's essential for the reader of this book to have at least some familiarity with the stories (for example, the parable that Ivan Karamazov tells about the Grand Inquisitor's encounter with Christ), I wouldn't necessarily say it was crucial that they refresh their memories of all the details before tackling this, because the author works hard to tease out the ideas that he's interested in. These are indicated by his title, and his observation that "Faith and fiction are deeply related - not because faith is a variant of fiction in the trivial sense but because both are gratuitous linguistic practices standing over against a functional scheme of things" (p46). The second part of this sentence takes a bit of unpicking (in fact, it takes the whole of the rest of the book to do so), but the first part - about faith being a variant of fiction - is startlingly eye-catching, even to those readers who are struggling to progress beyond the trivial.
If they do, they'll encounter the author's main thesis: an analogy between the fictional world and characters which Dostoevsky creates in his stories, and ideas and beliefs about the way our world has come into being, our purpose in it and the consequences of the choices which we make. Even if we're comfortable with the notion of being like characters in a story created by another, this is a heavy burden for Dostoevsky to bear (the analogy would clearly be a lot shakier if we substituted the name of another author - Dan Brown, say - and their fictional world), but Williams thinks he's up to the task because of the richness and complexity of his works, which he explores in depth here. Along the way, he considers ideas about free will, spirituality, charity, love, forgiveness and sacrifice; in spite of the density of the writing which caused me - in spite of paying close attention to the text - to lose my way occasionally, I found these resonated with me and stimulated unlooked-for insights. The patience and effort required to read this book is, in the final analysis, a valuable investment.
Originally reviewed 28 April 2014
February 27, 2024
"The sinner whom you are invited to judge is someone for whose condition you have to share the blame."
Every day, I am more and more convinced that Philosophy is the dumbest subject on earth.
I think that while every book leaves a small mark on the unconscious of a reader, there are a few you read throughout your life that you remember and think back on constantly.
This is one of those books.
What I was really afraid of when I first picked up this book was that it was going to be hardcore christian/orthodox apologetics. I was worried that Mr. Williams would instruct me on how to live a life like Alyosha. I quickly realized, not thirty pages in, that this book does not cast a moral judgment in the slightest. It says, here is Dostoevsky, here is his thought, and here is why I(Rowan Williams) think his characters act this way. And it's not abstract Philosophy either. I don't have to deduce or reduce or do thought experiments. More based on feeling(the only way books should be)
Anyway, there's way too much to review here, but if you want an interesting take on ALL of Dostoevsky, buy this book immediately. Rowan Williams has the hottest take of all time when he explains with perfect sense why Myshkin is the on real evil character in The Idiot.
(Btw Julia Kristeva, "a bulgarian-french philosopher," doesn't even hold a candle to the thought and perception of Rowan Williams)
Every day, I am more and more convinced that Philosophy is the dumbest subject on earth.
I think that while every book leaves a small mark on the unconscious of a reader, there are a few you read throughout your life that you remember and think back on constantly.
This is one of those books.
What I was really afraid of when I first picked up this book was that it was going to be hardcore christian/orthodox apologetics. I was worried that Mr. Williams would instruct me on how to live a life like Alyosha. I quickly realized, not thirty pages in, that this book does not cast a moral judgment in the slightest. It says, here is Dostoevsky, here is his thought, and here is why I(Rowan Williams) think his characters act this way. And it's not abstract Philosophy either. I don't have to deduce or reduce or do thought experiments. More based on feeling(the only way books should be)
Anyway, there's way too much to review here, but if you want an interesting take on ALL of Dostoevsky, buy this book immediately. Rowan Williams has the hottest take of all time when he explains with perfect sense why Myshkin is the on real evil character in The Idiot.
(Btw Julia Kristeva, "a bulgarian-french philosopher," doesn't even hold a candle to the thought and perception of Rowan Williams)
May 4, 2017
"[Dostoevsky] wants us to choose that humanity will survive - not merely as a biological but a cultural reality. And the culture he identifies as human is one in which we do not have to lie about what we are in relationship to our environment; a culture that insists upon a recognition of mortality and fallibility, of limit, of mutual indebtedness for our nurture and psychological growth, of the inaccessibility of our souls to one another and of the gratuitous and creative nature of what we say to one another. His fictions tell us, with intensifying urgency, that this culture is more at risk than we might have thought, that the restless concerns of secular and instrumentalist thinking are fast eroding it, so that we may wake up and discover we no longer know how to respond with either respect or compassion to each other, and so have literally nothing to say"
This is a dense book and a parts of it went way over my head, but really does a fantastic job of getting to the core of why Dostoevsky's ideas will always be relevant.
This is a dense book and a parts of it went way over my head, but really does a fantastic job of getting to the core of why Dostoevsky's ideas will always be relevant.
January 21, 2024
a very good book. Requires concentration, and knowledge with Dostoevsky's work. Having read Crime and Punishment, The Brothers Karamazov, Notes from Underground and White Nights there was enough in it for me to grab hold of. Will be reading the Idiot and Demons soon. I love the fact that Williams doesn't pretend to be able to reconcile all the strands of Dostoevsky's multi-faceted, and sometimes confused arguments.
What do we do when God is dead? Culture dies.
What do we do when God is dead? Culture dies.
August 31, 2024
This is a typically brilliant Rowanesque book and interpretation of the theme of faith in Dostoesky. William's central point is that Dostoesky's authorial role mimics God's divine providence and God's gracious gift of freedom by nevwr giving a final word on any character. Woven in is also discussion of what true diabolical language looks like and if it is even possible to create a true christological character in fiction. This is a book that I will continue to think about as I read Dostoesky.
February 5, 2022
Extremely heavy philosophical heavy lifting - enjoying it, but I do not think I've got the level of literary and philosophical literacy to fully get out of it what I one day can. So many sentences that are laden with an excruciating level of precise detail, that capture such an essential point... could pour over it for hours
August 22, 2025
This is undoubtably a work of erudition. Williams is a smart man and books like this have their place. However, when it comes to masterpieces written by people like Dosteovsky, when it comes to books that touch the deep mysteries of our existence, combing through lines of text and trying to decipher what the author originally meant, trying to piece together the original thought patterns of a master at work is kind of going against what the master intended. Books like Dostoevsky's need space to breathe to tell their story. Academia sometimes needs to step back and let mysteries be mysteries.
March 15, 2009
I suppose properly this should go in a category called "Lit-Crit," but I don't plan on reading too much literary criticism any time soon. Theoretically, it might also fit in Russian lit, but the author's not Russian himself. So Religion it is.
I'm not entirely sure what to make of this book. I've read nearly all the Dostoevsky books the author refers to in this work at some point or another, but my memory of most of them isn't very clear, and I read a few before I was mature enough to fully comprehend what was going on. And I'm not familiar AT ALL with any other literary criticism about these books, outside of the little bit we read about The Underground Man in my history class on the Russian intelligentsia. So I really can't say this is good or bad or insightful or not insightful. I have little to no frame of reference in which to situate it. (I bought it on super-discount on the last day of the APA conference this year.)
It seems like the author is a well-researched, thoughtful, eloquent individual (I would hope the Archbishop of Canterbury would be). It seems like he has carefully examined both the original novels by Dostoevsky and much of the literary criticism surrounding them, and that he has Thought Big Thoughts about everything he has taken in. At times, I was like "Gee, that makes a lot of sense!" At others times my mind wandered to other topics, even as my eyes moved over the words. And at still other times, no matter how many times I read a passage, I couldn't make heads or tails of it. Overall, as a casual reader, I would give it maybe a 3.5. But I have no clue how experts in the field have received this book, so take everything I say with a grain of salt.
I'm not entirely sure what to make of this book. I've read nearly all the Dostoevsky books the author refers to in this work at some point or another, but my memory of most of them isn't very clear, and I read a few before I was mature enough to fully comprehend what was going on. And I'm not familiar AT ALL with any other literary criticism about these books, outside of the little bit we read about The Underground Man in my history class on the Russian intelligentsia. So I really can't say this is good or bad or insightful or not insightful. I have little to no frame of reference in which to situate it. (I bought it on super-discount on the last day of the APA conference this year.)
It seems like the author is a well-researched, thoughtful, eloquent individual (I would hope the Archbishop of Canterbury would be). It seems like he has carefully examined both the original novels by Dostoevsky and much of the literary criticism surrounding them, and that he has Thought Big Thoughts about everything he has taken in. At times, I was like "Gee, that makes a lot of sense!" At others times my mind wandered to other topics, even as my eyes moved over the words. And at still other times, no matter how many times I read a passage, I couldn't make heads or tails of it. Overall, as a casual reader, I would give it maybe a 3.5. But I have no clue how experts in the field have received this book, so take everything I say with a grain of salt.
July 27, 2012
Williams does an excellent job diving into Dostoevsky's rich literature to explore the interplay between Faith and Fiction, and the role of the language we choose in either. Central to the book is the idea that freedom is necessary for a dialogue, not just between the characters, or the story and the narrator, but between the author and the audience.
Williams does not limit his reading to the staples of "Crime and Punishment" and "The Brothers Karamazov" but explores "Devils", "Notes from Underground", and even draws extensively from "The Idiot". Having read the first three I was able to thoroughly understand and enjoy the work, but sections devoted to the latter two works were difficult to maneuver.
Williams does not limit his reading to the staples of "Crime and Punishment" and "The Brothers Karamazov" but explores "Devils", "Notes from Underground", and even draws extensively from "The Idiot". Having read the first three I was able to thoroughly understand and enjoy the work, but sections devoted to the latter two works were difficult to maneuver.
Read
October 15, 2012Rowan Wiliiams is always worth reading and his engagement with Doestoevsky offers enlightenment for readers of the great Russian. But Williams being Williams, there is much more besides - insight into faith, redemption, iconography, forgiveness, the Christian's crucial relationship with 'the other', and Eastern Orthodox theology. This is not casual reading but Rowan's masterly style and clarity of expression opens his thought to anyone who extends an effort to read the book.
February 9, 2010
Scholarly treatment of primarily Brothers Karamozov, The Devils, and Crime and Punishment. Very detailed. Did not engage me like the works that were analyzed.
February 7, 2013
Hard to pin down, but there's something very wonderful about this book. For a more accessible read, see William's latest, ' The Lion's World.'
May 18, 2013
Williams has the gift of making all things approachable! A very smooth and informative read... however, certain sections could've offered a bit more.
July 17, 2015
Insightful, deep, theologically rooted analysis of what makes Dostoevsky's fiction powerful and resonant across decades and cultures. Profound and well worth reading.
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