Riot’s Classic Literature Reviews: The Brothers Karamazov Pt 2
There are two points to address right out the gate for why this post is coming out nearly two months after completing the part one review of Dostoevsky’s work. 1) I was extremely undisciplined in my reading and 2) this is by far the most difficult book I have ever read. (And that’s after reading/reviewing Moby Dick!) After taking a tour of some other reviews of the book, I am at least comforted in knowing that I am not alone in this thought. The general consensus appears to be, The Brothers Karamazov is an incredibly tough read, but if you endure, the payoff is one of the greatest stories ever written. Now, do I agree with the latter statement? I’ll touch on that later. What I found most surprising was how easily predicted the events of the story were. Looking back on my part one review, I was asking a lot of questions in the wrap-up portion that all played out as I thought. But, it is certainly clear that Dostoevsky wasn’t writing with the intent of shocking reveals or plot twists to blow his audience away. He was simply sitting down and evaluating the human condition through a fictional story (yet there are endless points where it seems like anything but fiction). What we learn from The Brothers Karamazov is essentially what we all already know; humans are complex as h***!
Like always, let’s dive into some interesting themes of the story.
Attempting to corrupt the incorruptible: I found something particularly fascinating about the youngest Karamazov, Alyosha. The three brothers are representations of different aspects of the human condition. Dmitri is a giant ball of rampaging emotion. He is a love addled man-child, a poet, and a criminal, consistently flying off the seat of his pants and completely enslaved to his emotional whims. Ivan is the epitome of logic (for the majority of the story, that is). He is the brain, the atheist, the cynic, and constantly, scientifically breaking down the world around him. Alyosha is the spirit. He is steadfast in his faith, believes the best in the people around him, and pushes forward in kindness and generosity while evil besets everyone he knows. What I found fascinating about Alyosha in particular, was that the people around him (including both his brothers who constantly affirmed that they loved him more than anyone else) seemed consistently hell bent on corrupting the angelic soul that they overtly praise throughout the book. What’s striking about this is that we have all seen something akin to this in our lifetimes. The virgin (in whatever way you want to define it: sex, drugs, alcohol, etc.) is stereotypically mocked until they cave in to societal pressures. Yet in almost every scenario, the corrupted person trying to influence the innocent towards evil isn’t a more fulfilled or better person, they are typically the exact opposite. Mired in their miserable iniquities, they are certainly looking for someone to corrupt, to join them in their depravity. The characters surrounding Alyosha verbally place him on a pedestal while simultaneously/hypocritically attempting to tear it down. What makes a person identify and recognize an ideal and then go on to make every attempt to destroy that ideal? I would think it has to be some sort of shame that makes the scenario continually play out in this way. Alyosha is able to endure through the pressures, but shouldn’t it be the responsibility of the “fallen” to not try and bring down the ideal?
“Love” makes you do stupid things: In my previous review, I touched on the idea of the “hysterical woman” being a pervasive character trope throughout the story. This remained true until the end, but what you end up finding out during the rest of the book is that the “hysterics” are not solely limited to the women by any means. In the context of overly emotional outbursts and tirades in the story, I think most people would find the scales balance out between the sexes. Dmitri, being the paragon of emotion that he is, is obviously the biggest example of this. But there is no lack of examples of characters that mentally torment themselves to the point of physical degradation and in the case of one unfortunate boy, to the point of death. The entire premise of the story, the murder of Fyodor Karamazov, is an intricately linked chain of events that all stem from what is essentially a crime of passion. Dmitri, already being shown to be in complete lack of control of his own emotions, subjects himself to the whims of a trio of unstoppably eccentric characters, two of which are females that are portrayed to change their demeanors as quickly as the wind changes directions. A person can often be forgiven if their poor choices are made in ignorance, but Dmitri knows full well that the woman he has specifically chosen for a life partner is flighty at best. After all, she chooses to entertain the prospect of a relationship with Dmitri’s own father for what essentially could be called “sh**s and giggles.” It would be wrong of me to say that being a love-sick buffoon is all there was to the character of Dmitri. But his other driving force, mainly unchecked pride masquerading as a commitment to honor, I think becomes less of a laudable reason for his actions. It is often said that you should be careful to whom you hitch your wagon to. If it’s to the whims of an emotionally unstable lady whilst being an emotionally unstable person yourself, chaos is certainly bound to ensue. Dmitri seems perpetually stuck in the stage of adolescence where a person doesn’t really understand the gravity and implications of what love actually means. Therefore, he succumbs to the flip floppy nature of his paramour and ends up an innocent man convicted of murder andbeing an emotional, stupid idiot.
Free will and morality: Now this is certainly the meat and potatoes of the story. Dostoevsky attacks these two aspects of life in so many different ways, it’s truly hard to keep track. But the truth of the matter is, free will and morality are impossibly complicated and are aspects of the human condition we will never fully understand. After completing the book, I would argue that Dostoevsky centers his evaluation in one particular question: can morals exist without God? I don’t necessarily mean the Christian God, but considering the story comes from a society dominated by the Russian Orthodox Church, I’d say this was the one Dostoevsky was talking about. In my last review, I touched on the fact that Alyosha had a very long conversation with his brother Ivan who made every attempt to tear down the fabric of faith that his little brother had based his entire life on. The main message coming out of that conversation was the argument that if God did not exist (which Ivan fundamentally believed to be true), then anything/everything that man does is “permitted”. This is unabashed/unstoppable free will and inherently makes the argument that man cannot be limited by any rule, any law, or any thought or aspect of morality that he deems unworthy. The irony of this being, that when Ivan is finally confronted with the truth of his father’s murder and the person responsible for it, his entire reality is broken down by the fact that his “logic” was the influence for said murder. He is left to watch his brother (whom he actually did hate for a good portion of the book, I was wrong in my previous post) take the blame for a crime that he himself was the catalyst for. The various characters, though vastly different in their motivations, are all seemingly battling with their own conceptualizations of morality through societal standards and often theological ones as well. Broken down to base value, what prevents a person from doing whatever they want and whenever they want if there is nothing higher than them to prevent it? Throughout history, I think it’s fair to say that there is generally little evidence that man is inherently altruistic. That isn’t to say there aren’t any singular examples of this, I think we all know somebody who takes it to the next level in their kindness and self-sacrifice. But to make that argument for the general population or humans in general would be a fallacy. It seems to me that Dostoevsky also recognizes this in his writing and uses this story to break down what exactly motivates people to organize and abide by societal norms/rules/regulations. In the end, morals have to come from something outside of the single human experience, because if it doesn’t, then anything is permissible and a society that rejects morality will inevitably fall into chaos.
Protecting the future: So this, as a theme, doesn’t really culminate until the very end of the story and is finalized literally in its epilogue. Dostoevsky spends an inordinate amount of time telling the story of a group of youth in town whose overly dramatic situation is overseen by Alyosha. (Poor Alyosha can’t catch a break, man). Summed up as simplistically as possible, one of the young boys, tormented by the poor decisions of the Karamazov clan (Dmitri beats up his dad in a bar fight, his classmates bully him, and Ivan sets into motion a series of events in which the sick boy murders a dog), passes away from the sudden onset of consumption (old speak for TB). Alyosha, in mitigating the chaos of the wills of a group of teenagers and being forced to simultaneously deal with the collapse of his family, is still able to hold onto the hope of a better future. These boys inevitably renounce their bullying and spend the boy’s last few days on Earth trying to cheer him up and seek forgiveness for what they had done. In turn, they showed more growth and responsibility than any member of the Karamazov family. Alyosha, the eternally faithful man, leads the boys in a promise to remain true to each other no matter the circumstances of life. There is more than a sense of personal responsibility in his messaging here, which is something I think is intentionally implanted by Dostoevsky in an attempt to promote a semblance of unity in the Russian identity. Without diving too far into historical context, the commentaries on Dostoevsky’s body of work often speak about his attempts to evaluate Russian patriotism. I think Alyosha’s speech to close out the book was an entreaty to his countrymen to remain united in protecting the future of the nation for the sake of those generations yet to come. This is noble to say the least and something I think is more than lacking in today’s society.
Wrap-Up: Two and a half pages later, I think it is apt to say that I am barely scratching the surface of the depth of this book. The events of the story, in and of themselves, are extremely simple. The settings are exceedingly limited as well. That being said, the sheer amount of layers in Dostoevsky’s novel are mind boggling to say the least. Minor fictional details that are typically immediately forgotten or glazed over somehow make themselves relevant later in the story. I find this to be a brilliant strength and simultaneously what I think will be the biggest detriment to future readers of this work. As I mentioned in my part one review, much of the book is a long string of unbroken dialogue (more often monologue to be honest). What is unfortunate about this is that any one of these characters can quickly become preachy and boring if you choose not to care about crux of what they are actually trying to say. The drama of the story (which is typically the more exciting part of fiction) gets lost in lengthy discourses, and key exposition suffers because the payoff of the point isn’t achieved until much later in the story. I will emphasize this one more time, this book is a tough read. It certainly isn’t for the casual reader but if you come into this one unwilling to open your mind to deep philosophical and theological debate, there is little to enjoy about The Brothers Karamazov. As with most of the classic literature I have evaluated inthis little blog of mine, I am continually caught off guard by the lengthy and overly emotional dialogue of these characters. My own prejudices (more like assumptions really) made it so that I didn’t expect how similarly Dostoevsky’s characters spoke in similar manner as the people in stories like Jane Eyre or Wuthering Heights. I think what often makes these stories more difficult to get through is the multiple cultural references that are scattered throughout each story. Not only have these cultural references typically dropped out of relevance (due to today’s education being what it is and society’s abrupt shift away from verbal legends/storytelling) but with Dostoevsky, it would take an obscene amount of time to research and fully grasp the context of a single reference. I admit, this is laziness on my part, but at least I am not claiming otherwise. So, do I recommend reading The Brothers Karamazov? Certainly, if for nothing else but to get people seriously thinking about the terrible course our country is on morally. From what I can tell, Dostoevsky saw the writing on the wall for the future of his own country and was doing whatever he could to course correct with this novel. It forces a degree of introspection that I definitely wasn’t expecting at the start of it and most certainly has made a lasting impression on me. If you do decide to pick this one up, I would implore that you do not take lightly the task of reading this book. It will not be easy.
Riot’s Rating: 7.8/10
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