Last time I checked in, I had just finished Paul Auster's The New York Trilogy. Though the text can be found right under this post, it feels to me as if I'd read that book at least one whole month ago. Since then, I finally read my first Russian novel! This is something I find worth celebrating. I once tried to read Anna Karenina and failed miserably; I found it boring and dry. It was a while ago, so I may have been too young, who knows (and maybe one day soon I'll try it again). I recently read The Brothers Karamazov, by Fyodor Dostoevsky, and I have to say I truly loved it!
On one level, I was surprised by how easy it was to read the book. By no means dry or convoluted, the book was simple to follow. For some reason, I had expected very dense material and to be confused by the names and the themes. To my delight, it was a straightforward, entertaining plot, though with a good share of philosophical, psychological, and religious explorations.
As for the story itself, most of the time I felt like I was watching a novella, not really reading a book. The phrase "in a passionate frenzy" does a good job of summing up of many of the characters' actions--whether it be falling to the ground in tears to kiss the floor, declamations of guilt and/or love, promises to kill or revenge, etc., etc. Not only were the actions passionate, the story itself was dramatic and truly worthy of a soap opera! The end section of the novel takes a totally different turn, resembling a murder mystery show or court-drama we'd find on TV today. Witnesses, jurors and lawyers play out a trial that aims to determine if one man is guilty or innocent, and the question has never seemed so important.
The Karamazov family is not known for being a set of clean, honest men. Fyodor Pavlovich, a lecherous man, is the father of four sons, three of them legitimate. The eldest son, Dmitry, takes much after his father and lives the life of a sensualist, until he has an encounter with and becomes engaged to an honorable, beautiful lady named Katerina Ivanovna. She, however, does not truly love Dmitri (or, rather, she sometimes does, sometimes does not). More importantly, Dmitri does not really love her either. He has actually fallen head over heels in love with a women who, lets just say, does not have the best reputation around town (her summary in Wikipedia refers to her as a "Jezebel"). Her name is Grushenka. The heart of the trouble of the lives of the Karamazovs, Grushenka is a wild girl who often admits that she enjoys laughing at the father and brother who fight over her. For it just so happens that Fyodor also is in love with Grushenka. Father and son, both loud mouthed, passionate men fighting for the same sly, beautiful woman leads only to disaster. To complicate matters, the middle brother Ivan is also romantically involved with Katerina. Alexei is the final brother, the "hero" of the story, who worries over the sin and destruction of his brothers but is essentially powerless to stop it.
If I were to really write about this novel, which I would love to, because there is an overwhelming possibility of topics to explore, I would examine the role of Alyoshka (Alexei). Though the narrator never fully reveals his own identity, we know that he think of Alyosha as "the hero" of the story. This is particularly interesting because Alyoshka does not (cannot) do anything to stop the terrible course of events that take place in The Brothers Karamazov. For the most part, the beginning of the book certainly focuses on him and his torn nature. On the one hand, Alyoshka is a Karamazov, through and through, meaning he understands the pull of sensual gratification. On the other hand, he craves to be pure and so becomes a novice in a monk. A holy occupation--the complete opposite of his Karamazovian father, who owns many brothels. Alexei is caught running back and forth between the monastery, a holy place of peace and guidance, and keeping watch over his brothers, mediating between their disputes. Worried sick about the feud that has grown between his family, Alexei dreads the result and cries out for the souls of his brothers and father. Interestingly, he is consistently referred to as the judge and the redeemer, called on to sanctify or cast down characters based on their actions. But who is he to say, Alexei the virgin, Alexei the novice who knows not of sex or love? Though he is technically not part of the love triangles that play out, he does go through his own intense trials, where his faith is put to the test.
The Brothers Karramazov is not a simple cut story whose readers are left off with an ending they expect. It starts off with the novel only leading the reader to one place--it is inevitable that the book will end that way. That's how it seems, anyways, until suddenly it is not so. Something else happens that changes the whole novel, and it makes The Brothers Karamazov brilliant. As a novel that has been greatly lauded as one of the greatest achievements in literature, The Brothers Karamazov is written in such a way that you truly get an intense, full-depth understanding of the characters. None are truly good nor evil, repentance is seen even after terrible crimes. The divulging of intentions and emotions, fears and desires, becomes especially important when the novel is aiming to explore not just about the morality of its characters, but the morality of human nature.
Dostoevsky's final novel carries many central themes of heavy implications. Characters debate the nature of the soul, the existence of God, the introduction of neuroscience, and the need for morality. Towards the end of the novel, these ideas come together in the final trial, where a search for exactly how and why humans act the way they do is both presented and made fun of. The Brothers Karamazov truly shows the extremes that man can achieve: extreme goodness and extreme baseness. That his how the Karamazov man is, and that is how we all are. We can simultaneously be aware of the highest ideal, of right way to act, all while being driven by the pleasures that can yield from the most immoral of actions.
There is one passage that I want to type and print out, it is on the importance of loving all of creation. It really touched my heart and I will share it here with you:
Brothers, do not be afraid of men's sin, love man also in his sin, for this likeness of God's love is the height of love on earth. Love all of God's creation, both the whole of it and every grain of sand. Love every leaf, every ray of God's light. Love animals, love plants, love each thing. If you love each thing, you will perceive the mystery of God in things. Once you have perceived it, you will begin tirelessly to perceive more and more of it every day. And you will come at last to love the whole world with an entire universal love. Love the animals: God gave them the rudiments of thought and an untroubled joy. Do not trouble it, do not torment them, do not take their joy from them, do not go against God's purpose. Man, do not exalt yourself above the animals: they are sinless, and you, you with your grandeur, fester the earth by your appearance on it, and leave your festering trace behind you -- alas, almost every one of us does! Love children especially, for they, too, are sinless, like angels, and live to bring us to tenderness and the purification of our hearts and as a sort of example for us. Woe to him who affords a child….Always resolve to take it by humble love. If you so resolve once and for all, you will be able to overcome the whole world...Keep company with yourself and look to yourself every day and hour, every minute, that your image be ever gracious. -(318)I truly, truly loved this book. Entertaining and funny, absorbing and profound, The Brothers Karamazov was a perfect example of literature that delivers quality story with timeless observations. Since my last post, I've read two other books. The first one was The Bean Trees, by Barbara Kingsolver. The first book of hers I've been able to get through, I thought this was a nice read, cute and uniquely written. I'd definitely recommend it to readers who are looking for sometimes a little lighter than Dostoevsky. The other book I read was The Forgiven, by Lawrence Osborne. Not my favorite book, this short novel was filled with unsympathetic characters and, I believe, often was a little exaggerated in its attempts at portraying cross-cultural tensions. I did, however, find the ending to be satisfactory and surprising, which is always a good thing! Not sure yet on whether I'd really recommend it, though. Until next time!
The Avid Readr
No comments:
Post a Comment