Brothers Karamazov, The 2010/11: Week 1 - Part I, Books One and Two

[Captain Sir Roddy, R.N. (Ret.), Founder]

This is folder for discussion of Part I, Books One and Two of Dostoevsky's The Brothers Karamazov. I can't wait to see what we all come up with!

Have fun!

[MadgeUK]

Thanks Christopher. I just read this in a review of the novel - it seems we are starting it at a good time!

'This is a winter novel - one to read in front of the fire and with friends or family to hand, and no hurry to complete it. It will lead you to question much that you take for granted - perhaps even yourself.'

And if you haven't got a fireplace:-

http://www.filetransit.com/screenshot...

[Erik]

Hi-I'm new here. Looking forward to rereading the book--30 years later. Had a great visiting Professor from Moscow. This was one of the books we read.

[Emily]

Hey that is on, like, the first page, which means I actually have already read it! I I'm torn on whether I should start to read along with you guys, or if I should wait to read it until the new year to read it with a few people from another group I'm in. This seems very structured, and I feel like I would appreciate that. I am so tempted......

[Nemo]

Patrice wrote: "Why don't you start with us and then you'll be even better prepared if you want to join the other group?"

LOL, you're very persuasive. I think you'd make a very good marketing person. :)

I'm still undecided myself whether to join this group read. So many good books to read...

[Laurel]

Nemo wrote: I'm still undecided myself whether to join this group read. So many good books to read...

But only one Brothers Karamazov. Well, actually at least three.

[Emily]

Aaaand...that is all it took.

I will begin tonight or tomorrow morning. If I fall behind, oh well, I will begin again later. Though I'm not going into it expecting to fail, just giving myself a way out if I feel too stressed. Will check back in once I have something interesting to say about the text :-)

[Laurel]

“Above all, do not lie to yourself. A man who lies to himself and listens to his own lie comes to a point where he does not discern any truth either in himself or anywhere around him, and thus falls into disrespect towards himself and others. Not respecting anyone, he ceases to love, and having no love, he gives himself up to the passions and coarse pleasures, in order to occupy and amuse himself, and in his vices reaches complete bestiality, and it all comes from lying continually to others and to himself.”

As Patrice has suggested, this homily about self-deception is very important to the book--and to life. Lying to oneself leads to believing the lie, which is pride, which leads to disrespect to self and others and all that follows. "This above all: to thine own self be true, And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man." Polonius said that, but it is true.

[Laurel]

Another important quote, also from Father Zosima, quoting his doctor friend: "The more I love humanity in general the less I love man in particular. In my dreams, I often make plans for the service of humanity, and perhaps I might actually face crucifixion if it were suddenly necessary. Yet I am incapable of living in the same room with anyone for two days together. I know from experience. As soon as anyone is near me, his personality disturbs me and restricts my freedom. In twenty-four hours I begin to hate the best of men: one because he’s too long over his dinner, another because he has a cold and keeps on blowing his nose. I become hostile to people the moment they come close to me. But it has always happened that the more I hate men individually the more I love humanity."

How true in politics and in daily life!

To live above with saints we love,
that will be glory!
To live below with those we know,
that's another story.

[Laurel]

Patrice wrote: I'm convinced that Freud read this book and then sat down and outlined it and that was "his" theory. It's all there, in this book and the enormity of Dostoyevsky's insight boggles the mind.

Dostoevsky was a master of the human mind. I'm convinced that one can find far more psychological truth in Dostoevsky than in Freud. Has anyone here ever read The Double?

[Nemo]

I think John 12:24 is "Christianity In a Nutshell". I'm not sure whether people are seriously interested in in-depth discussions about religion.

[Laurel]

Patrice wrote: I'd love to go back to the VERY beginning. The epigraph.


Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit. John 12:24

We spent a looong time discussing this in class and then, I heard the Teaching Company explanation and it was different. I'd love to hear others ideas on the meaning of this. I think it's a big part of the book.

Okay, here's the meaning that I get from the epigraph: First, it applies to Christ, the speaker, who came to die that we might live, bringing in the fruit of multitudes of believers. Second, it applies to those believers. We are to die to self, to sin, to the blare of the world, in order to live eternally and bring forth the fruits of good works and new believers. That's religious, I know, but we can't discuss Russian novels, especially Dostoevsky's, without getting into religion. By using this Bible verse as the epigraph, Dostoevsky might be signaling that someone in the book is going to be called upon to make a great sacrifice.

[MadgeUK]

Laurele wrote: "Another important quote, also from Father Zosima, quoting his doctor friend: "The more I love humanity in general the less I love man in particular. In my dreams, I often make plans for the service..."

Perhaps this is also an insight into Dosteovsky's own character because he too hated a lot of things about his fellow man/woman and was apparently a very difficult person to know.

[[deleted user]]

Patrice, am I imagining things or did you have an earlier post about whether the three brothers were archetypes (symbols?) or whether they were meant be real people? It's an interesting question at this point, because they are so easily divided as intellectual, sensual and spiritual. Worth discussing, too. Especially as the story goes on.

[MadgeUK]

Patrice wrote:I explained it to myself (I don't know how valid this is) that the narrator is someone in the town, perhaps the town gossip. The narrator is one of the most fascinating things about this book. He is not omniscient.

At the beginning I think the narrator is a monk at the same monastery as Father Zossima - in Chapter 3 he speaks of 'our' monastery:-

'I must give some preliminary account of him, if only to explain one queer fact, which is that I have to introduce my hero to the reader wearing the cassock of a novice. Yes, he had been for the last year in our monastery, and seemed willing to be cloistered there for the rest of his life.'

And in Chapter 6 he says:-

'The interview with the elder had been fixed for half-past eleven, immediately after late mass. Our visitors did not take part in the service, but arrived just as it was over.'

There is something about the use of the narrative, third person, voice here (SPOILERS):-

http://www.associatedcontent.com/arti...

However, there are several narrative voices and all of them are 'unreliable'. Dosteovsky has been criticised for this but some critics thinks it adds to the complications in the story.

This paragraph in chapter I shows the deliberate ambiguity in the narration - we read it and are none the wiser about which version of the story is true. I get the feeling that this will also be the case for the novel as a whole:-

'Fyodor Pavlovitch was drunk when he heard of his wife's death, and the story is that he ran out into the street and began shouting with joy, raising his hands to Heaven: “Lord, now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace,” but others say he wept without restraint like a little child, so much so that people were sorry for him, in spite of the repulsion he inspired. It is quite possible that both versions were true, that he rejoiced at his release, and at the same time wept for her who released him. As a general rule, people, even the wicked, are much more naïve and simple-hearted than we suppose. And we ourselves are, too.'

[Nemo]

MadgeUK wrote: "This paragraph in chapter I shows the deliberate ambiguity in the narration - we read it and are none the wiser about which version of the story is true. I get the feeling that this will also be the case for the novel as a whole:-

'Fyodor Pavlovitch was drunk when he heard of his wife's death, and the story is that he ran out into the street and began shouting with joy, raising his hands to Heaven: “Lord, now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace,” but others say he wept without restraint like a little child, so much so that people were sorry for him, in spite of the repulsion he inspired. It is quite possible that both versions were true, that he rejoiced at his release, and at the same time wept for her who released him. As a general rule, people, even the wicked, are much more naïve and simple-hearted than we suppose. And we ourselves are, too.' ..."

Here is the P/V version of the same paragraph (Book I, at the end of Chapter I).

"Fyodor Pavlovich was drunk when he learned of his wife's death, and the story goes that he ran down the street, lifting his hands to the sky and joyfully shouting: "Now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace." Others say that he wept and sobbed like a little child, so much so that they say he was pitiful to see, however repulsive they found him. Both versions may very well be true -- that is, that he rejoiced at his release and wept for her who released him, all at the same time. In most cases, people, even wicked people, are far more naive and simple-hearted than one generally assumes. And so are we."

I wonder what's in Avsey's translation.

[MadgeUK]

Magarashack ends after 'Lord, now lettest thy servant depart in peace!...' etc:

'In the majority of cases, people, even evil-doers, are much more naive and artless than we generally assume. As, indeed, we are ourselves.'

Garnett ('Lord, now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace,...') :-

'As a general rule, people, even the wicked, are much more naive and simple-hearted than we suppose. And we ourselves are, too.'

All seem equally ambiguous about the truth of the story!

[MadgeUK]

Patrice wrote: I'm convinced that Freud read this book and then sat down and outlined it and that was "his" theory. It's all there, in this book and the enormity of Dostoyevsky's insight boggles the mind.

Do you think he shows insight into what happens to children if they lose their mother and are then passed from relative to relative? There appears to be no comment on this when we are told about the early lives of Fyodor's three children at the beginning of the book, except that they all end up with different characters, which happens in most families.

Also, are we to assume from the outset that Aloysha turns to to be the better character (the 'hero') because of the influence of the 'elder', Father Zossima? An elder was:-

'...one who took your soul, your will, into his soul and his will. When you choose an elder, you renounce your own will and yield it to him in complete submission, complete self-abnegation. This novitiate, this terrible school of abnegation, is undertaken voluntarily, in the hope of self-conquest, of self-mastery, in order, after a life of obedience, to attain perfect freedom, that is, from self; to escape the lot of those who have lived their whole life without finding their true selves in themselves.' (Book I Chapter V - Elders.)

The 'life of obedience' (as some of us learned from Milton's Paradise Lost) is a scriptural (?) concept and if Aloysha did attain it and his brothers did not, or did not try, then can we expect to see him as the Christ figure throughout the novel? Also, if Aloysha renounced his own will and yielded it to Father Zossima 'in complete submission, complete self-abnegation', does Father Zossima represent God?

[Jan]

First of all, I think the explanations by Laurel and Patrice of the Bible verse at the beginning of the book were very good. This was actually my mother's favourite verse from scripture and it came to her once in a dream in which she saw fields of wheat growing. The grain, the kernel of life must be buried in the ground, in order to generate life and multiply. So the Christian must give up selfish interests in order to grow in faith and help produce new growth( which could be in numbers of believers or in the quality of their faith.)Baptism also represents this dying to self and taking on new life in Christ. The ritual, as practised by Jesus and John the Baptist, involves the person being lowered back into the water (dying to the old ways of selfishness)and then being raised up onto their feet again( rising to new life of following Christ's teachings). Many churches still practise this traditional form of baptism, while others have sprinkling of infants ...a kind of symbol of a symbol, if you like.
Secondly, I think what Patrice said about the death of Dostoevsky's three year old son throws a whole other perspective on the novel.
Thirdly, the point of view that these three brothers represent different elements of humanity, or even of one's self, is intriguing to say the least, and it's wonderful to be getting all these insightful contributions from everybody.
Fourthly, the equivalent passage in the Avsey translation, mentioned above, reads:
"Fyodor Pavlovich learned of his wife's death when he was drunk; it was said that he ran out into the street with his hands raised to heaven in joy, shouting:'Lord, now lettest thou thy servant...';others say he wept convulsively like a child, so much so that, despite all the revulsion he aroused, he was pitiful to behold. Very probably, both accounts are true-- that is, he rejoiced in his liberation and shed tears for his liberator at one and the same time. In most cases, people, even evil-doers, are much simpler and more naive than we generally suppose. And the same is true of you and me."

[MadgeUK]

Yes, I struggle with that idea too Patrice. Perhaps that is why I remain an atheist:). I think mastery of the passions is different to obedience and self-abnegation though. Most of us try to master our passions in some way or other, whether or not we believe in God and obedience. Even if it is only not eating too much chocolate or in my case, biscuits:).

I am not sure that 'love is a gift which one can't give unless it is received'. I think that some people have loveless childhoods but determine to be loving towards their own children, for instance.

In the religious sense, can someone be born with 'grace'? I thought it had to be earned?

However, I think the book can be read without using religious interpretations, by just using psychology and the idea of the Golden Rule or perhaps Karma. I have to approach Dosteovsky that way to make any sense of him.

[Nemo]

Jan wrote: "First of all, I think the explanations by Laurel and Patrice of the Bible verse at the beginning of the book were very good. This was actually my mother's favourite verse from scripture and it came..."

I agree with Jan. This is a wonderful group. Because of all the insightful and personal contributions from everyone, I'm sorely tempted to join the group read if only to get to know you all better. :)

[Nemo]

Patrice wrote: "The quote about attaining perfect freedom only through self-abnegation gave me a lot of trouble. Submission is not something that I ordinarily think of as a "good"..."

Personally I don't have a problem with submission because it's already a major part of our daily lives. We submit to the government, paying taxes and abiding by the laws; we submit to all sorts of authorities and personages, the teachers at school, our supervisors at work, and our parents or spouses at home, etc; We even submit to our own bellies (if not other organs) sometimes, as MadgeUK pointed out. :)

I think we are averse to the idea of submission because it seems to imply the loss of freedom. The amazing and appealing thing about Christianity, at least as I understand it, is the promise of "Freedom", which none of the above mentioned can provide, though some present themselves as "liberators".

A person can make free choices only to the extent that he himself is free. A slave can choose to disobey his master, but if he does that often, he won't survive long. "True democracy is the ability to say NO to your boss without having to worry about where your next meal comes from".

We are all bound by necessities. Only God is not bound by necessities. He alone is Free. Accordingly, our free choice of will is truly free only when it's in unity with God's will. "You shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free" "Therefore if the Son makes you free, you shall be free indeed."

Hope that makes sense.

[Everyman]

Patrice wrote: "While I am half through the book I decided to re-read the first chapters today for this discussion."

I'm in much the same position. I had started reading BK a few months ago, got about a third of the way through, got distracted by some of the stuff and left it for a few months, started reading again when it was chosen for here, but then realized that I needed to go back and re-read the beginning.

[Everyman]

Patrice wrote: " That was another fantastic quote but I'd love to go back to the VERY beginning. The epigraph.y, verily, I say unto you, Except a corn of wheat fa..."

And, of course, there is the legend of the Phoenix, which must die in order to be reborn.

[Everyman]

Patrice wrote: "The narrator is one of the most fascinating things about this book. He is not omniscient. He knows some things and not others and then he sometimes disappears entirely into the characters."

Yes, the narrator is fascinating, but I am finding him inconsistent. There things he claims not to know that somebody closely connected with the family would know, but then he is able to record whole conversations which take place in private or in very small groups where none of the participants would fit the character of the narrator.

Is this inartful on D's p;art, or is he being very clever in making the narrator another aspect of what has already been discussed, the them of not being honest with oneself. Is the narrator intentionally being dishonest, or at least circumspect, with us?

I can't remember from reading the book decades ago whether we ever find out who the narrator is.

[Everyman]

MadgeUK wrote: "PAt the beginning I think the narrator is a monk at the same monastery as Father Zossima - in Chapter 3 he speaks of 'our' monastery:- "

I wondered about that, but I don't think it establishes him as a monk there necessarily. The monastery was an important establishment in the town, and it's not unusual for people to speak of important things in their cities as "our" -- "our local pub," "our airport," etc.

[Everyman]

There seem to me to be two very strong and perhaps related undercurrents which are shaping the novel. One, obviously, is religion, and specifically the Orthodox Christian Church, which I personally don't know that much about except that I think it is even more ritualistic than the Catholic Church.

The second is the Russian Character. D refers to this numerous times. Clearly (at least clearly to me) he believes that it something quite distinct from European (French and English in particular) character. It seems to be something that is inbred which a person cannot escape but which is all-encompassing.

[MadgeUK]

Patrice wrote: "My feeling is that this book is just as much a dialectic and in the same way we are never to be quite sure of what is true and what is not. In addition to all of the other themes, there's the theme of how do we know anything? Can we be sure?..."

I very much agree with you here Patrice. It is a questioning of the 'truth' of religion and other aspects of life.

Here is something about the Russian character, which, it is said is more, 'oriental' than European, although the boundaries of continental Europe stretch to the Ural mountains, which divide West and East Russia.:-

http://www.petersburg-russia.co.uk/pe...

http://www.libarts.uco.edu/history/fa...

http://mapsof.net/uploads/static-maps...

http://www.russia-ic.com/culture_art/...

Biog extract from the Introduction to Wordsworth edition of TBK: 'Dosteovsky joined a revolutionary socialist group when a young man and, when caught, 'the accused were all condemned to death and conveyed in vans to a large scaffold in the Simonovsky Place. As the soldiers were preparing to carry out the sentence, the prisoners were informed that their penalty was commuted to exile in Siberia. The novelist's sentence was four years in Siberia and enforced military service in the ranks for life. On Christmas Eve 1849 he commenced the long journey to Omsk, and remained in Siberia, "like a man buried alive, nailed down in his coffin", for four terrible years. His Siberian experiences are graphically narrated in a volume to which he gave the name of Recollections of a Dead-House (1858). It was known in an English translation as Buried Alive in Siberia (1881). In the Siberian "gulag" he was herded together with the worst type of criminal and thereby gained an exceptional insight into the dark and seamy side of Russian life. He formed new conceptions of human life, of the balance of good and evil in man, and of the Russian character....His life had been irremediably seared by his Siberian experiences and his release subjected him to fresh indignities as a common soldier. He looked prematurely old; his face bore an expression of accumulated sorrow; in disposition he had become distrustful, taciturn, contemptuous - his favorite theme the superiority of the Russian peasant over every other class; as an artist, though uncultured, he had ever been subtle and sympathetic, but afterwards he was tortured by tragic visions and morbidly preoccupied by exceptional and perverted types....From 1865, when he settled in St. Petersburg, Dostoevsky was absorbed in a succession of journalistic enterprises, in the Slavophil interest, and suffered severe pecuniary losses. He had to leave Russia in order to escape his creditors, and to seek refuge in Germany and Italy. He was further harassed by troubles with his wife, and his work was interrupted by epileptic fits and other physical ailments. It was under such conditions as these that his most enduring works were created. '

[Jan]

Patrice wrote: "The book also made me think of Don Quixote in that he seems to have planned to write two parts, one set 13 years ago and one in the present. He died after this book was done so I don't know how se..."
Please correct me if I am wrong, but wasn't I just reading about a Don Quixote connection over in the Western Canon discussion of Huckleberry Finn?

[[deleted user]]

Patrice wrote: "I haven't read the Double yet, Laurele.

That was another fantastic quote but I'd love to go back to the VERY beginning. The epigraph.


Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except a corn of wheat fa..."

So glad you posted that. It will influence my reading of the book. And my book, a 1957 paperback, originally priced 75 cents (oh, be still my heart), doesn't have an epigraph.

[[deleted user]]

Regarding the uncertainty (of the narrator, of stories, the rumors)

I just loved this quote from Chapter 4 regarding Alexey's memory of his mother:

"like a corner, torn out of a huge picture which has faded and disappeared except that fragment" (27).

It just so brought home for me how ephemeral this memory...all memory... is. And the story is written 13 years after the event.

A corner is so small.

Torn, instead of cut, implies there is no rhyme or reason in what in contained in the edges in the piece we see.

The picture is huge. So we know we're missing almost everything.

And it's a picture. A painting. So it never captured facts to begin with. Only the artists subjective interpretation of what he saw.

Moreover, it's faded. Whatever semblence of truth it once held has soften...only the most vidid/exagerated/bold aspects remain for the viewer to see.

The passage made me think again of Dmitri and Sophia. Dmitri. "it turned out to his amazement" that he had nothing. He had made decisions in his life and agreements with his father based on "the belief that he had property" And, oh God, isn't that how life is? How we act is based on what we believe. How deeply did Dmitri question his belief?

And Sophia. She knew only a corner piece of Fyodor.

Thre other related thoughts the quote brought to mind.

You can take scratched photographs "restored" digitally. The photo program somehow "reads" what's in that area of the photo and puts in "what logically should be there" ... even if it wasn't really there in the original photo...even if it wasn't actually there in life...now and forever in the future ... that's how it will be remembered.

My daughter had vision problems. The vision therapist explained a test she had given my daughter. Daughter looked through some sort of machine with both eyes and as she was looking she was to draw a picture of what she saw. And the picture she drew looked "right" to me. But the therapist explained that in actuality my daughter was only seeing out of one eye and only seeing half the picture (it was a simple geometric design.) That her brain wanted/needed the design to make sense, and that it was her brain that supplied her with the details that she didn't actually see.

There was an internet quiz that went around a few years back. You were to read the sentences and find the words that were missing the letter "f" You were even told that there were 6 missing "f"s. And yet, it was almost impossible. Your brain kept seeing the "f"s that weren't there because we needed them there.

I have to wonder how much the characters do this. Because they don't know the big picture, they supply the missing information they need from stories, rumors, "beliefs."

[MadgeUK]

Jan wrote: "Patrice wrote: "The book also made me think of Don Quixote in that he seems to have planned to write two parts, one set 13 years ago and one in the present. He died after this book was done so I d..."

That is the thing about the Western Canon - all the books on that list are interconnected. Each author is 'standing on the shoulders of giants' and Dosteovsky, like Cervantes and Twain, is one of those giants.

http://www.interleaves.org/~rteeter/g...

[Nemo]

MadgeUK wrote: "Biog extract from the Introduction to Wordsworth edition of TBK: 'Dosteovsky joined a revolutionary socialist group when a young man and, when caught, 'the accused were all condemned to death and conveyed in vans to a large scaffold in the Simonovsky Place...."

It makes me wonder whether someone whose life experience is totally different from Dostoevsky's would be able to understand him at all.

[[deleted user]]

Patrice wrote: regarding the invisible gorilla..."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vJG698...

Wow. I found it. But because I'm aware that there is going to be a gorilla, a part of my mind is looking for that. I saw the gorilla out of the corner of my eye. (But I was amazed that I didn't "see" what the gorilla did.)

Which leads me back to your post #51. The epigraph SHOULD be there in my book. And if I had read it at the beginning of the book it would have subsequently influenced my reading and interpretation of the entire book. Which is why I'm so VERY glad you posted it!

(I'm catching up slowly and reading the posts as I go. Wonderful points being made.)

[[deleted user]]

Hmm. The epigraph is missing in my 1949 (Constance Garnett trans.) version as well. I've been reading the new Avsey one I got, so I hadn't noticed.

Perhaps that's a clear indication of how we view everything through a set of modern filters. In the 1950's the epigraph presented a non-popular view, one which we are more likely to buy into now that times seem darker and suffering seems more a human condition.

To steal shamelessly from http://www.shmoop.com/brothers-karama... (which has some great summary information), here is their analysis of the epigraph:

The epigraph echoes the elder Zosima's teachings. He cites this particular passage from the New Testament's Gospel of John to suggest that suffering should not be the cause of our rejection of God, but an avenue into faith (6.1.14). In other words, suffering – particularly the suffering of innocents – may cause us to doubt the existence of a God who is just and all-powerful. But Zosima argues that suffering is necessary; it is the "seed" that can produce the "fruit" of a greater, a more robust faith. Through suffering we lose our pride and conceit; we become humble, and, in our humility, we are able to empathize with all human beings because we no longer consider ourselves superior to them. This empathy, or love, as Zosima stresses, connects us to the greater mystery of God's love.

In some sense, the novel is a test of what happens when suffering is sown in the fields of skepticism or faith, to stick to the gardening metaphor. If you are a skeptic like Ivan, suffering results in madness. If you are a man of faith, as Dmitri becomes at the end of the novel, suffering is a source of spiritual strength and regeneration.

The post WWII western world wasn't one that found value in suffering, nor was it particularly interested in questions of faith. (I know I'm oversimplifying. I need broad generalities here to make my point :)) So I'm guessing that publishers saw the epigraph as overly religious and not in keeping with a (then) modern view of the story.

[[deleted user]]

Great info. BTW, my translation is also Constance Garnett.

[Everyman]

Jan wrote: "Please correct me if I am wrong, but wasn't I just reading about a Don Quixote connection over in the Western Canon discussion of Huckleberry Finn?
."

Indeed you were.

[Captain Sir Roddy, R.N. (Ret.), Founder]

I am very much enjoying this novel. I am a bit over 50 pages into it now, and am getting quite caught up with the characters. I have to say that it is a bleak and dark novel so far. To me, it is almost dystopian in its feel too. There's just an awful lot of dehumanization and tragedy across the landscape of the pages I've read. And while Pere Karamazov, at times, comes across as the comic buffoon, he is truly a dyed-in-the-wool monster. So far, with the exception of young Alyosha, there really aren't any likable characters. I've got about 40 more pages to go in this first discussion section; and right now we are visiting Elder Zosima at the monastery.

Bleak and dark, bleak and dark...

[[deleted user]]

Nice poem, Patrice. It definitely catches the mood. Maybe Russian authors only write during the long dark winters? That would explain a lot. It's cold, raining, and dark here already. Karamazov fits right in with my current environment :D

[Nemo]

Patrice wrote: " A friend printed out a Pushkin poem that was mentioned somewhere in the book and in keeping with the bleakness I thought I'd share it.
I happen to love it and I dedicate it to all insomniacs everywhere...."

That poem immediately reminds me of a Kierkegaard quote on despair.

http://www.goodreads.com/quotes/show/...

[Jan]

Nemo wrote: "Patrice wrote: " A friend printed out a Pushkin poem that was mentioned somewhere in the book and in keeping with the bleakness I thought I'd share it.
I happen to love it and I dedicate it to all ..."
And for insomniacs who prefer not to despair, I offer my simple Australian viewpoint (from a land of sunshine). (This has already appeared in my poetry notebook, but it's very short.)

Sleep

I tried to sleep
But I could not
I am the one
That sleep forgot

One thing eludes me
That I desire:
To go to sleep
When I retire.

[[deleted user]]

For some reason that Kierkegaard quote makes me laugh. It's so gloomy and depressing, it's funny. Okay, I and my macabre sense of humor are leaving the room now.

[Nemo]

Kate wrote: "For some reason that Kierkegaard quote makes me laugh. It's so gloomy and depressing, it's funny. Okay, I and my macabre sense of humor are leaving the room now."

I knew you would like it. :)

[Everyman]

We were questioning earlier whether the narrator's mention of "our monastery" meant that he was a monk. In re-reading the early chapters, I ran across this comment, part of the discussion in the middle of Chapter 3 of Ivan's article, which seems to me to fairly clearly indicate that he was not a monk:

"...this article in time penetrated into the famous monastery in our neighborhood, where the inmates, being particularly interested in the ecclesiastical courts, were completely bewildered by it." [P-V translates it "our famous neighboring monastery..."]

Would the narrator have written thus if he had been one of the inmates of the monastery? Doesn't seem like it to me.

[[deleted user]]

Avsey is a little more ambiguous there:

"...in due course the article reached the famous monastery outside our town, where the whole question of ecclesiastical courts was arousing intense interest,and, having appeared there, it created general consternation..."

This doesn't preclude one of the people inside the monastery to me. Especially some sort of lay help. A servant perhaps?

I think the question about who the narrator is has to remain open, especially given the detailed knowledge of the family's discussion with the elder and the following meal.

[[deleted user]]

This may turn out to be nothing.

In Book II, Chapter 1, Fyodor, etc, are at the monastery, looking for the cell of the elder, Zossima. They're told:

"Father Zossima lives in the hermitage, apart, four hundred yards from the monastery, the other side of the grove."

"I know it's the other side of the grove," observed Fyodor Karamazov, "But we don't remember the way. It is a long time since we've been here."

He can't be referring to visiting Alyosha, because that would have been a recent event.

So if Fyodor Karamazov is telling the truth, why was he at the monastery many years ago, and is it significant?

[Everyman]

Adelle wrote: "TSo if Fyodor Karamazov is telling the truth, why was he at the monastery many years ago, and is it significant? "

I don't recall D saying why anywhere, but I don't think it would have been that unusual for him to have visited the monastery. It was a famous institution in the town, so it would probably have been like a Londoner going to St. Paul's Cathedral or the Tower of London.

Just speculation, of course. I have nothing specific to go on.

[Captain Sir Roddy, R.N. (Ret.), Founder]

Ye Gods, you people have entirely too much time on your hands if you're ferreting out these little nuances about who the hell the narrator is. I guess that I am just taking Everyman's word and relying upon the fact that he is unreliable. I would have to start over at the beginning to have a prayer's chance in hell of figuring out that subtlety. I will rely upon all of you to inform me of who 'tis.

[Captain Sir Roddy, R.N. (Ret.), Founder]

Patrice wrote: "I just realized that you may not be familiar with the concept of "Elder". The way it was explained to me was that they are priests but they are separate from the church structure, separate from th..."

and the child referenced in that scene is precisely the same age as that of Dostoevsky's dead son.

[John]

This is for anyone who might like questions that we can more easily hone in on, or whoever might prefer (because they're as anal retentive as I am) something a little more conversationally "structured." Here are some questions (just on the Author's Note, Books I and II) for those people to think about.

Author's Note:

1) Why do we need to be told who the hero is? Is Alexei really such an ineffective hero that he needs to be identified?

2) Might there be other candidates for hero of the book? Who? Why?

3) What is a hero, according to Dostoevsky's view?


Book I

1) Who are the characters in this family and what do they represent? Are they symbols in a sweeping Russian allegory, for example? (I think there is an interesting case to be made here.)

2) On the very first page of Chapter One, Dostoevsky talks about role-playing. This idea will recur throughout the novel. Why is it important?

3) Note that Dostoevsky includes Father Zosima as a member of this nice little family. Why?


Book II

1) Pay attention to passages about shame and love. These will resonate throughout the book. Do these interest you?

2) Consider the discussions of crime. Most important is Ivan's declaration that if there is no immortality, then everything is permissible. But there are other, very complicated discussions of the nature of guilt and crime. Note them, too.


Happy reading, everyone.