As I reread Book 1, the narrator’s voice is much more pronounced and I’m drawn to Alyosha more than the other brothers. There are a couple of moments of irreverence on the narrator’s part, especially when noting the lack of ‘wonder-working icons’ at the monastery. I imagine him telling stories with a wry smile and a cheeky tone.
I like this perspective—it's intriguing. However, writing a novel with yourself as the main character seems rather self-centered, almost like writing a disguised autobiography.
But then an idea occurred: Alyosha may have already transcended his former self as that Alyosha Karamazov and is writing from the perspective of when he is notionally an elder and a different person.
You make a really interesting point regarding Alyosha talking from a transcended perspective or at least a spiritually evolved version of himself. It’s like Dostoyevsky has created an omnipresent character in the narrator who could take on the form of a few characters in the book.
I hadn't thought about this perspective before. But Dostoevsky could indeed have nested the narrators' personalities like matryoshka dolls, one inside another, creating many layers. There are no contradictions to this - we don't have a reliable biography of the narrator. And such work with different compositions and complex structures is very much in Dostoevsky's style. Thank you for developing this idea.
So far I am loving TBK, and it's so different from Crime and Punishment! I remember the first few chapters of C&P being really bleak, the darkness in Raskolnikov's mind so overwhelming, whereas here, our narrator is much calmer, more orderly, even wryly funny at times. I thought perhaps the narrator was someone from the monastery, but the other theories make sense too. Excited to keep reading!
I completely agree, Kate, - the book's mood is entirely different from C&P. Yes, C&P we were immediately plunged into hopelessness and poverty. Here, so far, everything is unfolding rather positively in their lives, without such despair. It's actually interesting to compare certain moments between the novels. The theme of unfortunate children has already emerged - with Sofya Ivanovna, who wanted to hang herself before being taken in by the widow. It reminds me of the story of Resslich (Svidrigailov's acquaintance) and her business. But how dark everything was described in C&P, and how much lighter it is here - the narrator truly adds humor.
I am really enjoying the novel so far. The articles and discussion are very helpful to understand deeper meanings that I would have overlooked if reading on my own. On a personal note, I wanted to read this novel because my eldest son just converted to Orthodoxy. He left for college, met a girl, converted and got married all in the span of two years. There was a summer in there that he toyed with becoming a monk and lived at a monastery. I am still catching my breath. In order to understand and relate to him better I have read the Bible in its entirety and am now embarking on TBK for this year’s project. There was a passage in chapter five that struck me, “Alyosha merely chose a path that ran counter to others, but with the same intense desire to accomplish a feat quickly. As soon as he had, after serious thought, been struck by the conviction that immortality and God exist, then immediately, of course, he said to himself: ‘I want to live for immortality, and I will accept no compromise.’” To me, this was a glimpse into my son’s psyche. Interesting.
Thank you for sharing. This is truly a personal story, and a powerful decision by your son. It will be interesting to see how you find the character of Alyosha, and whether his experiences will later resemble those of your son, since Dostoevsky invented this - he had no such experience with his own son or himself.
I am reading along with this group using the Avsey translation, after reading book 1 in both P&V and Avsey. The insights provided by your articles are incredibly helpful in taking a deep dive into this amazing novel. The deeper look into the Russian meanings of the names is priceless.
I had finished Book 1 a week ago but had not returned to it to review for discussion—distracted by the political events in the States. In the mid-1970’s, I had great class in 19th century Russian history at UCLA. Chapter 5, Elders, page 27, in the Pevear translation, I was reminded of that class when the narrator discusses realism and the young men of his time “demanding an immediate deed.” I remember writing an essay that included references to the nihilists, especially Sergei Nechayev. The narrator tells us that Alyosha “simply chose the opposite path [implying revolutionary terror?] from all others, but with the same thirst for an immediate deed.” A great psychological insight of that generation coming of age in the 1860’s.
You have fascinating academic experience. Nihilistic themes will be thoroughly explored in the novel. As for Nechayev—those ideas appear in Demons, and Dostoevsky likely wrote this novel as a counterpoint. Though he never completed Alyosha's full journey, the themes of revolution and protest continue to surface throughout the discussions.
When I attended college (community college to university and then grad school at a CSU campus), I simply wanted the freedom to take what I wanted. I was the antithesis of the career disciplined student, so UCLA was probably a poor choice. I was political science major by accident and when I transferred to the UC, I devised my course of study around Soviet studies and then whatever struck my fancy. The Russian history was the best class I had and was taught by a non-tenure track instructor (He eventually got a tenure position at a college in Minnesota.). I still have my textbook, "A History of Russia," by Riasanovsky. Sadly I lost my essays from the class. He had us read literature and our essay exams were list of choices prompted by quotations either from the novels or from historical figures and records. I was studying to be a knowledgable Cold Warrior, but that instructor taught me the nuances and importance of knowing the effect of Russian history. And now all this time later, those lessons seem even more apropos. I look forward to spending this time with Dostoevsky.
It was Riasonovsky we used when I was an undergrad at St Andrews in the 90s. Unfortunately the history offering there was rather poor and we only had one semester with a very light skim over the surface; literature and linguistics were very much the focus at that university. I read Riasonovsky again a few years ago.
So far I think that the narrator allows Dostoevsky to never commit to one character reading – for example Fyodor Pavlovich is more cunning according to some and more stupid according to others, it’s a he said she said situation that leaves things open to interpretation, from the beginning we’re told to see the characters as complex figures. I feel encouraged to consider all readings as potentially true and false, I can study the brothers both as human beings and as allegories and it’s all fair game. i.e. from a human, psychological point of view what made the brothers so different from each other, how much of it was nature and how much was nurture? Is Ivan more of a cynic because he was older when his mother died and understood what was happening? Is Alyosha kinder because he experienced being loved as a child? And from an allegorical/religious point of view: why does each reaction from Fyodor Pavlovich toward his children means? To me so far old Karamazov represents Sin, so I’m noting how he reacts to Mitya/body (corruption and disaster), Ivan/mind (interest and, at times, positive consequences) and Alyosha/soul (affection and hope). I’ve been interested in Dostoevsky’s views on the matter since Marmeladov from Crime and Punishment, because in my experience all Christians have a complex relationship with sin and guilt, it comes with the upbringing, and he’s seemingly always trying to puzzle out what makes one deserving of forgiveness. So old Karamazov’s positive reaction to Alyosha refusing to judge him is especially interesting to me. Marmeladov was convinced that only God in his supernatural love could ever accept him, so where does that put Alyosha, is he unnaturally good? Or is he simply doing what each decent person should strive to do? Food for thought.
Love your comment, Ellie! Yes, this certainly gives food for thought, and you can look at the characters differently each time. Indeed, you can view them either simply as characters or as allegories - both interpretations are valid, since Dostoevsky didn't just write characters with a story, but truly imbued them with ideas. Like how Marmeladov embodied the idea of a bad father. It would be interesting to compare Fyodor Pavlovich with Marmeladov - one has a daughter, the other has sons, and how their fates unfolded with these "bad fathers".
And at the beginning, the characters really appear to me as if set to specific settings: Alyosha – 100% spirit, Dmitri – 100% body, and Ivan – 100% mind, but then through their interactions with each other, they will absorb each other's ideas, argue, resist, and it will be interesting to observe what they become by the end of the book. Will they still represent these distinct categories, or will they become more similar to each other like 40% spirit — 40% body — 20% mind?
If you add up Dostoyevsky's many stays in Germany, he spent several years of his life in our country. The reason for this, however, was not a special attachment to Germany and its culture, but rather the extreme circumstances of his extraordinary personality. Obsessed with his literary work, driven by an eternal need for money and debts, hounded by his creditors, driven by his passions, plagued by his illnesses, he travelled to Western Europe nine times and spent a lot of time in Germany.
Like every educated Russian, he had grown up with Western European literature and philosophy, and the figure and thought of Friedrich Schiller in particular were of enormous importance to him. However, he was only able to embark on his first journey to the West, during which he wanted to get to know half of Europe in just a few weeks, after the traumatic experiences of his mock execution, conviction and years of forced labour in a Siberian death house. From there, he returned to St Petersburg a different person. By then, he was over forty and had already developed the essential features of his anti-Western missionary ‘Russian idea’, which he used to contrast the Orthodox religious, spiritualised, public-spirited culture of Russia with the materialistic, egotistical culture of the West.
On these first journeys in 1862, 1863 and 1865, which took him to Berlin, Dresden, Cologne and the Rhine, among other places, Germany was above all the place where he experienced his pathological gambling addiction, with which he sought a way out of his constant lack of money, but which apparently also provided him with a peculiar drive for his desire to write and his creativity. The great writer drifted restlessly around the casinos of Wiesbaden, Bad Homburg and Baden-Baden, where he was always stuck somewhere because he couldn't pay his hotel bill.
During these years, the married writer also fell in tormented, passionate love with the eccentric student Polina Suslowa, with whom he travelled several times.
He sent her a desperate cry for help from a hotel in Wiesbaden, in which he complained that he was not being served lunch, tea or coffee and that the waitress treated him ‘with a deeply German contempt’: ‘There is no greater crime for a German than to be without money and not to pay on time.’
Dostoyevsky ingeniously processed the exciting and humiliating experiences of his gambling addiction and his passion for Polina Suslova in the novel ‘The Gambler’ from 1866. The location of the plot, Roulettenburg, is a fictitious mixture of the gambling strongholds in Germany.
The fourth journey in 1867, shortly after his marriage to his second wife Anna Grigoryevna Snitkina, was also an escape from his creditors and ultimately lasted almost four years before the couple were finally able to return to Russia in 1871. They spent the first two happy months in Dresden, where they then lived for two years after a difficult time in Italy and Switzerland - where their first child was born, who died a few months later. And even in these early years of his marriage to Anna, 25 years his junior, he repeatedly suffered dramatic outbursts of his gambling addiction. From Dresden, Dostoyevsky made several detours to Homburg and Wiesbaden and on their journey to Switzerland in the summer of 1867, their stopover in Baden-Baden - as can be followed day by day thanks to Anna Grigoryevna's notes - became a hellish journey between irrational hope and deepest despair. At times - down to Anna's last dress and their wedding rings - all their possessions were in pawnbrokers.
In Dresden, at Victoriastrasse 5, their daughter Ljubov was born in 1869. And his visits to the famous Dresden Picture Gallery, which he visited again and again from his first stay in Dresden, and his favourite paintings Raphael's ‘Sistine Madonna’, Titian's ‘Zinsgroschen’ and Claude Lorrain's ‘Acis and Galathea’ left deep traces in his work.
Dostoevsky and his wife's long stay abroad from 1867 to 1871 and the two years in Dresden were characterised by a constant lack of money, worries and their tormenting homesickness for Russia. What Dostoyevsky wrote to his niece Sonja from Florence in 1869 is repeated again and again in similar formulations: ‘Three more months and we will have been living abroad for two years. In my opinion, this is worse than being exiled to Siberia. I say that seriously and without exaggeration’.
It is therefore not surprising that Dostoyevsky hardly develops a deeper interest in Germany and its culture.
His knowledge of German is also very limited, but he blames this more on the stupid and obtuse Germans: ‘It's always like that with the Germans, they never understand anything.’
He lives a secluded and isolated life, reads almost exclusively Russian newspapers and magazines and has no contact with the literary milieu or fellow German writers. In Baden-Baden, on the other hand, he came into contact with Ivan Turgenev, a Westerner living there, which was very important for Russian literary history. Dostoyevsky practically only socialised with fellow countrymen and his thoughts were constantly on his Russian homeland. Apart from phases of indomitable gambling, he is obsessed solely with writing and lives only for his literary work.
His last trip to play roulette took him to the casino in Wiesbaden just a few weeks before his return to Russia. After losing everything again, he wrote to his wife in a letter from there: ‘Great things have happened to me, the vile delusion that tormented me for almost ten years has disappeared’ and ‘Just get to Russia as quickly as possible! Put an end to the accursed foreign country and the fantasies! Oh, with what hatred I will think back to that time!’
In the seventies, Dostoyevsky travelled to Germany four more times, to the then world-famous spa town of Bad Ems, where the German Emperor and the Russian Tsar Alexander II also took the waters. Dostoyevsky spent several weeks at the spa in the summers of 1874, 1875, 1876 and 1879. From the outset, these trips were merely a chore for him, through which he hoped - in the belief in the legendary healing success of the Ems mineral springs ‘Kränchen’ or ‘Kesselbrunnen’ - to alleviate his pulmonary emphysema. He was already a famous and popular writer in Russia at the time, but his financial situation was still such that he was unable to take his beloved wife and children with him and therefore suffered greatly from the separation from them. His detailed reports on the spa in Bad Ems are of cultural and historical interest.
Dostoyevsky's enormous work of fiction is almost inconceivable without his stays in Germany. The plan for the novel ‘Crime and Punishment’ was written in Wiesbaden; the setting of ‘The Gambler’ is Germany; in Dresden he wrote the novel ‘The Eternal Husband’ and parts of ‘The Evil Spirits’; in Bad Ems he worked on the novel ‘A Green Boy’ and here he completed the chapter ‘A Russian Monk’, a key text of his great legacy novel ‘The Brothers Karamazov’.
This is a new look on the novel & I’ve detailed characters of the players ,this is Constance Garnenett’s translatio ,either I matured in 30 years when I read this book for the first time and now at age 81years ,more serious,the first book gave such an excellent description of all characters in detail that makes you think in depth.The nerrator reflects the personality of Dostoevsky himself or close associate,I just finished book 1 ,will start next book after my vacation in 10day , I will catch up with everyone.Thanks for excellent review , it is very informative.
My first time through, some years ago, was in a translation I no longer have (I’m reading the Pevear now). As the book went on, I came to be drawn very closely to Alyosha, even thinking of him as a sort of role model, even though he too had flaws. The conflict between a childlike character and the rough and gruff world around them seems like a theme that comes up more than once in Dostoevsky—I hope also to read The Idiot sometime. How one approaches being childlike is important for one in following Christ. What is the difference between childlike and childish?
Many aspire to be like Alyosha—he possesses rare and attractive qualities that seem innate rather than learned. His unconditional love for everyone and complete lack of judgment draw people to him naturally. It's no wonder they said he would never be destitute, even without money—people would freely give him whatever he needed, without him asking. These qualities have an almost fairy-tale quality, the kind found in novels and epic tales.
Children are indeed central to understanding Dostoevsky's religious views. While anyone can be childish at times—acting frivolously and displaying immature tendencies—few can truly be like a child in their mind, embodying that pure and open worldview. This rare quality is what we see in Alyosha, and to some extent in Myshkin.
Adelaide is the french version of Old High German "Adalheid", today: Adelheid (oldfashioned name which is rarely used nowadays), "adal" means "nobel", "heit" means "figure" "form" "shape".
Ivan would be John in English, Johannes in German, from Hebrew יֹוחָנָן jôḥānān bzw. יְהוֹחָנָן jəhôḥānān over Greek Ἰωάννης Iōánnēs ("the Lord is gracious")
Pyotr translates into Peter in English and German, from Greek Πέτρος Pétros, „stone". In Mt 16,18 Jesus anounces "You are Petrus (Πέτρος Pétros) and onto this rock (πέτρα pétra) I want to build my community“.
Thank you for these additions. «Ancient» names indeed contain so much within them - and it's very interesting that Dostoevsky truly considered their meanings from their origins. Few writers did this, as most limited themselves to simply inventing surnames.
This discussion of names is very interesting. An important controversy between the Eastern Orthodox and Western Catholic Churches had to do with the Petros/Petra in Jesus’ statement. The Roman Church of course took it to mean that Jesus was building his church on Peter himself (and the succession of Popes) whereas the Orthodox fathers taught that it was Peter’s confession: “you are the Christ (anointed one), the son of the living God“ that would be the foundation of Jesus’ Body. This is the confession held in common by the various Orthodox Patriarchs. This results in very different understandings, particularly regarding how the Church is governed.
This is my first time reading any Russian literature. I’m really enjoying the novel and your questions and insightful comments are helping to round the experience out nicely! Glad I stumbled upon your substack.
This is wonderful—I'm glad you're with us, Bill. For a first-time reader, you've chosen quite a challenging novel, but it's truly fascinating, with so much to interpret and contemplate.
By the way, you might not know that your surname is a transliteration of the Russian word for "wolf" (волк).
I am reading Brothers Karamazov for the second time now and starting to pick up on some philosophical controversies in Dostoyevskiy's views. For instance, Dostoyevskiy is thought to have strongly believed in free will. Yet, when he talks about Alyosha and how lovable he was purely by nature without any effort on his part, he seems to admit that Alyosha could not help it but to be nice and loved by everyone. This seems to suggest some admission of determinism. The fact that Alyosha did not feel much at his mother's grave despite vividly remembering her is somewhat similar to Meursault's behavior when maman died in "The Stranger" of Camus. Unlike Meursault, Alyosha is portrayed by the narrator in such a way that the reader should expect a different reaction from Alyosha when visiting his mother's grave. Here, determinism seems to also come into play: the fact that Alyosha was raised without his mother since the age of four resulted in him not having any significant feelings towards her since when we don't spend ample time with someone, we are unable to truly love them. It seems that circumstances of his upbringing ended up affecting his response when visiting his mother's grave.
On another note, Fyodor Pavlovich is being portrayed, at least on the surface, as a very unpleasant individual, and we are seemingly supposed to deeply dislike him. That being said, he had a lot of insight into himself being a problematic individual - his drinking, orgies, giving up his kids among many other things. He also seemed to love Alyosha so much because his youngest son was the only one who was truly Christ like towards him - he did not judge him. But how much of a free will did Fyodor Pavlovich (or Dmitry for that matter) have to control his detrimental impulses? If Alyosha was nice and shy by nature, could Fyodor Pavlovich be careless, impulsive and not caring towards his kids by nature also? Could his genetics or upbringing have at least something to do with the way he is? The narrator tells us nothing about how Fyodor Pavlovich was raised and what his parents were like. I think that the narrator tries to tell us that Fyodor Pavlovich is a more controversial figure than he initially seems: the fact that he was seemingly devastated when his first wife died, for instance, seems to suggest that he did have and was capable of feelings towards her. For some reason, I am having a lot of difficulty deeply disliking Fyodor Pavlovich...
Overall, while Dostoyevskiy is known to be a believer in free will, in my view he seems to admit, at least indirectly, that we are at least somewhat determined by our circumstances a la Ortega's " I am I and my circumstance".
Interesting observations, Valeriy, but it's important to note that this novel is fiction—Dostoevsky doesn't express his personal viewpoint through every sentence and character, but rather portrays multiple perspectives. Similarly with free will—I believe some elements serve the plot rather than make philosophical statements.
But you're right about our limited knowledge of the main character. He remains enigmatic—though nothing positive is said about him, we find it difficult to despise him at this point. As the plot unfolds, I expect we'll explore more aspects of Alyosha's "free will," questioning whether he truly possesses it or whether he'll inevitably manifest his father's traits.
Thank you for such a detailed analysis of the first book! I've long wanted to reread "The Brothers Karamazov," and your discussions helped me see many new aspects. The observations about the meaning of names and the two opposing worlds represented through Karamazov's wives are especially interesting. I had never before considered the connection between the Sofia and Christian symbolism!
And the reflections on the narrator's identity made me look at the narrative in a new way. I'm eagerly looking forward to our reading of the second book!
I’m looking forward to following this. I only just finished the book yesterday, but enjoyed it so much that I’m eager to delve into studying it more closely!
Yes, it took several breaks in between, but I finished it last week. It’s interesting to read the analysis of book 1 so far, I find myself wanting to connect the dots to events and characters from later chapters though, and don’t want to spoil anything!
It's wonderful that the novel has had such an impact that you want to reread it. Here in our club we have people who are rereading it after 40 years, and some who have read it many-many times. So yes, let's explore it together gradually - welcome aboard!
Note: I’m reading the Katz translation
As I reread Book 1, the narrator’s voice is much more pronounced and I’m drawn to Alyosha more than the other brothers. There are a couple of moments of irreverence on the narrator’s part, especially when noting the lack of ‘wonder-working icons’ at the monastery. I imagine him telling stories with a wry smile and a cheeky tone.
I like this perspective—it's intriguing. However, writing a novel with yourself as the main character seems rather self-centered, almost like writing a disguised autobiography.
But then an idea occurred: Alyosha may have already transcended his former self as that Alyosha Karamazov and is writing from the perspective of when he is notionally an elder and a different person.
You make a really interesting point regarding Alyosha talking from a transcended perspective or at least a spiritually evolved version of himself. It’s like Dostoyevsky has created an omnipresent character in the narrator who could take on the form of a few characters in the book.
I hadn't thought about this perspective before. But Dostoevsky could indeed have nested the narrators' personalities like matryoshka dolls, one inside another, creating many layers. There are no contradictions to this - we don't have a reliable biography of the narrator. And such work with different compositions and complex structures is very much in Dostoevsky's style. Thank you for developing this idea.
Thank you for this summary and additional information. That monastic choir was incredible.
I'm glad the information has been helpful, Alicia. And indeed, the choir sings mesmerizingly.
So far I am loving TBK, and it's so different from Crime and Punishment! I remember the first few chapters of C&P being really bleak, the darkness in Raskolnikov's mind so overwhelming, whereas here, our narrator is much calmer, more orderly, even wryly funny at times. I thought perhaps the narrator was someone from the monastery, but the other theories make sense too. Excited to keep reading!
I completely agree, Kate, - the book's mood is entirely different from C&P. Yes, C&P we were immediately plunged into hopelessness and poverty. Here, so far, everything is unfolding rather positively in their lives, without such despair. It's actually interesting to compare certain moments between the novels. The theme of unfortunate children has already emerged - with Sofya Ivanovna, who wanted to hang herself before being taken in by the widow. It reminds me of the story of Resslich (Svidrigailov's acquaintance) and her business. But how dark everything was described in C&P, and how much lighter it is here - the narrator truly adds humor.
I am really enjoying the novel so far. The articles and discussion are very helpful to understand deeper meanings that I would have overlooked if reading on my own. On a personal note, I wanted to read this novel because my eldest son just converted to Orthodoxy. He left for college, met a girl, converted and got married all in the span of two years. There was a summer in there that he toyed with becoming a monk and lived at a monastery. I am still catching my breath. In order to understand and relate to him better I have read the Bible in its entirety and am now embarking on TBK for this year’s project. There was a passage in chapter five that struck me, “Alyosha merely chose a path that ran counter to others, but with the same intense desire to accomplish a feat quickly. As soon as he had, after serious thought, been struck by the conviction that immortality and God exist, then immediately, of course, he said to himself: ‘I want to live for immortality, and I will accept no compromise.’” To me, this was a glimpse into my son’s psyche. Interesting.
Thank you for sharing. This is truly a personal story, and a powerful decision by your son. It will be interesting to see how you find the character of Alyosha, and whether his experiences will later resemble those of your son, since Dostoevsky invented this - he had no such experience with his own son or himself.
I am reading along with this group using the Avsey translation, after reading book 1 in both P&V and Avsey. The insights provided by your articles are incredibly helpful in taking a deep dive into this amazing novel. The deeper look into the Russian meanings of the names is priceless.
Thank you for your response, Jeffrey. I hope the information is helpful and will help you immerse yourself in and enjoy the novel.
I had finished Book 1 a week ago but had not returned to it to review for discussion—distracted by the political events in the States. In the mid-1970’s, I had great class in 19th century Russian history at UCLA. Chapter 5, Elders, page 27, in the Pevear translation, I was reminded of that class when the narrator discusses realism and the young men of his time “demanding an immediate deed.” I remember writing an essay that included references to the nihilists, especially Sergei Nechayev. The narrator tells us that Alyosha “simply chose the opposite path [implying revolutionary terror?] from all others, but with the same thirst for an immediate deed.” A great psychological insight of that generation coming of age in the 1860’s.
You have fascinating academic experience. Nihilistic themes will be thoroughly explored in the novel. As for Nechayev—those ideas appear in Demons, and Dostoevsky likely wrote this novel as a counterpoint. Though he never completed Alyosha's full journey, the themes of revolution and protest continue to surface throughout the discussions.
When I attended college (community college to university and then grad school at a CSU campus), I simply wanted the freedom to take what I wanted. I was the antithesis of the career disciplined student, so UCLA was probably a poor choice. I was political science major by accident and when I transferred to the UC, I devised my course of study around Soviet studies and then whatever struck my fancy. The Russian history was the best class I had and was taught by a non-tenure track instructor (He eventually got a tenure position at a college in Minnesota.). I still have my textbook, "A History of Russia," by Riasanovsky. Sadly I lost my essays from the class. He had us read literature and our essay exams were list of choices prompted by quotations either from the novels or from historical figures and records. I was studying to be a knowledgable Cold Warrior, but that instructor taught me the nuances and importance of knowing the effect of Russian history. And now all this time later, those lessons seem even more apropos. I look forward to spending this time with Dostoevsky.
It was Riasonovsky we used when I was an undergrad at St Andrews in the 90s. Unfortunately the history offering there was rather poor and we only had one semester with a very light skim over the surface; literature and linguistics were very much the focus at that university. I read Riasonovsky again a few years ago.
Ahhh, college in the ‘70s! What a great experience…
So far I think that the narrator allows Dostoevsky to never commit to one character reading – for example Fyodor Pavlovich is more cunning according to some and more stupid according to others, it’s a he said she said situation that leaves things open to interpretation, from the beginning we’re told to see the characters as complex figures. I feel encouraged to consider all readings as potentially true and false, I can study the brothers both as human beings and as allegories and it’s all fair game. i.e. from a human, psychological point of view what made the brothers so different from each other, how much of it was nature and how much was nurture? Is Ivan more of a cynic because he was older when his mother died and understood what was happening? Is Alyosha kinder because he experienced being loved as a child? And from an allegorical/religious point of view: why does each reaction from Fyodor Pavlovich toward his children means? To me so far old Karamazov represents Sin, so I’m noting how he reacts to Mitya/body (corruption and disaster), Ivan/mind (interest and, at times, positive consequences) and Alyosha/soul (affection and hope). I’ve been interested in Dostoevsky’s views on the matter since Marmeladov from Crime and Punishment, because in my experience all Christians have a complex relationship with sin and guilt, it comes with the upbringing, and he’s seemingly always trying to puzzle out what makes one deserving of forgiveness. So old Karamazov’s positive reaction to Alyosha refusing to judge him is especially interesting to me. Marmeladov was convinced that only God in his supernatural love could ever accept him, so where does that put Alyosha, is he unnaturally good? Or is he simply doing what each decent person should strive to do? Food for thought.
Love your comment, Ellie! Yes, this certainly gives food for thought, and you can look at the characters differently each time. Indeed, you can view them either simply as characters or as allegories - both interpretations are valid, since Dostoevsky didn't just write characters with a story, but truly imbued them with ideas. Like how Marmeladov embodied the idea of a bad father. It would be interesting to compare Fyodor Pavlovich with Marmeladov - one has a daughter, the other has sons, and how their fates unfolded with these "bad fathers".
And at the beginning, the characters really appear to me as if set to specific settings: Alyosha – 100% spirit, Dmitri – 100% body, and Ivan – 100% mind, but then through their interactions with each other, they will absorb each other's ideas, argue, resist, and it will be interesting to observe what they become by the end of the book. Will they still represent these distinct categories, or will they become more similar to each other like 40% spirit — 40% body — 20% mind?
Dostoyevsky in Germany
If you add up Dostoyevsky's many stays in Germany, he spent several years of his life in our country. The reason for this, however, was not a special attachment to Germany and its culture, but rather the extreme circumstances of his extraordinary personality. Obsessed with his literary work, driven by an eternal need for money and debts, hounded by his creditors, driven by his passions, plagued by his illnesses, he travelled to Western Europe nine times and spent a lot of time in Germany.
Like every educated Russian, he had grown up with Western European literature and philosophy, and the figure and thought of Friedrich Schiller in particular were of enormous importance to him. However, he was only able to embark on his first journey to the West, during which he wanted to get to know half of Europe in just a few weeks, after the traumatic experiences of his mock execution, conviction and years of forced labour in a Siberian death house. From there, he returned to St Petersburg a different person. By then, he was over forty and had already developed the essential features of his anti-Western missionary ‘Russian idea’, which he used to contrast the Orthodox religious, spiritualised, public-spirited culture of Russia with the materialistic, egotistical culture of the West.
On these first journeys in 1862, 1863 and 1865, which took him to Berlin, Dresden, Cologne and the Rhine, among other places, Germany was above all the place where he experienced his pathological gambling addiction, with which he sought a way out of his constant lack of money, but which apparently also provided him with a peculiar drive for his desire to write and his creativity. The great writer drifted restlessly around the casinos of Wiesbaden, Bad Homburg and Baden-Baden, where he was always stuck somewhere because he couldn't pay his hotel bill.
During these years, the married writer also fell in tormented, passionate love with the eccentric student Polina Suslowa, with whom he travelled several times.
He sent her a desperate cry for help from a hotel in Wiesbaden, in which he complained that he was not being served lunch, tea or coffee and that the waitress treated him ‘with a deeply German contempt’: ‘There is no greater crime for a German than to be without money and not to pay on time.’
Dostoyevsky ingeniously processed the exciting and humiliating experiences of his gambling addiction and his passion for Polina Suslova in the novel ‘The Gambler’ from 1866. The location of the plot, Roulettenburg, is a fictitious mixture of the gambling strongholds in Germany.
The fourth journey in 1867, shortly after his marriage to his second wife Anna Grigoryevna Snitkina, was also an escape from his creditors and ultimately lasted almost four years before the couple were finally able to return to Russia in 1871. They spent the first two happy months in Dresden, where they then lived for two years after a difficult time in Italy and Switzerland - where their first child was born, who died a few months later. And even in these early years of his marriage to Anna, 25 years his junior, he repeatedly suffered dramatic outbursts of his gambling addiction. From Dresden, Dostoyevsky made several detours to Homburg and Wiesbaden and on their journey to Switzerland in the summer of 1867, their stopover in Baden-Baden - as can be followed day by day thanks to Anna Grigoryevna's notes - became a hellish journey between irrational hope and deepest despair. At times - down to Anna's last dress and their wedding rings - all their possessions were in pawnbrokers.
In Dresden, at Victoriastrasse 5, their daughter Ljubov was born in 1869. And his visits to the famous Dresden Picture Gallery, which he visited again and again from his first stay in Dresden, and his favourite paintings Raphael's ‘Sistine Madonna’, Titian's ‘Zinsgroschen’ and Claude Lorrain's ‘Acis and Galathea’ left deep traces in his work.
Dostoevsky and his wife's long stay abroad from 1867 to 1871 and the two years in Dresden were characterised by a constant lack of money, worries and their tormenting homesickness for Russia. What Dostoyevsky wrote to his niece Sonja from Florence in 1869 is repeated again and again in similar formulations: ‘Three more months and we will have been living abroad for two years. In my opinion, this is worse than being exiled to Siberia. I say that seriously and without exaggeration’.
It is therefore not surprising that Dostoyevsky hardly develops a deeper interest in Germany and its culture.
His knowledge of German is also very limited, but he blames this more on the stupid and obtuse Germans: ‘It's always like that with the Germans, they never understand anything.’
He lives a secluded and isolated life, reads almost exclusively Russian newspapers and magazines and has no contact with the literary milieu or fellow German writers. In Baden-Baden, on the other hand, he came into contact with Ivan Turgenev, a Westerner living there, which was very important for Russian literary history. Dostoyevsky practically only socialised with fellow countrymen and his thoughts were constantly on his Russian homeland. Apart from phases of indomitable gambling, he is obsessed solely with writing and lives only for his literary work.
His last trip to play roulette took him to the casino in Wiesbaden just a few weeks before his return to Russia. After losing everything again, he wrote to his wife in a letter from there: ‘Great things have happened to me, the vile delusion that tormented me for almost ten years has disappeared’ and ‘Just get to Russia as quickly as possible! Put an end to the accursed foreign country and the fantasies! Oh, with what hatred I will think back to that time!’
In the seventies, Dostoyevsky travelled to Germany four more times, to the then world-famous spa town of Bad Ems, where the German Emperor and the Russian Tsar Alexander II also took the waters. Dostoyevsky spent several weeks at the spa in the summers of 1874, 1875, 1876 and 1879. From the outset, these trips were merely a chore for him, through which he hoped - in the belief in the legendary healing success of the Ems mineral springs ‘Kränchen’ or ‘Kesselbrunnen’ - to alleviate his pulmonary emphysema. He was already a famous and popular writer in Russia at the time, but his financial situation was still such that he was unable to take his beloved wife and children with him and therefore suffered greatly from the separation from them. His detailed reports on the spa in Bad Ems are of cultural and historical interest.
Dostoyevsky's enormous work of fiction is almost inconceivable without his stays in Germany. The plan for the novel ‘Crime and Punishment’ was written in Wiesbaden; the setting of ‘The Gambler’ is Germany; in Dresden he wrote the novel ‘The Eternal Husband’ and parts of ‘The Evil Spirits’; in Bad Ems he worked on the novel ‘A Green Boy’ and here he completed the chapter ‘A Russian Monk’, a key text of his great legacy novel ‘The Brothers Karamazov’.
Karla Hielscher
Translated with DeepL.com (free version)
This is a new look on the novel & I’ve detailed characters of the players ,this is Constance Garnenett’s translatio ,either I matured in 30 years when I read this book for the first time and now at age 81years ,more serious,the first book gave such an excellent description of all characters in detail that makes you think in depth.The nerrator reflects the personality of Dostoevsky himself or close associate,I just finished book 1 ,will start next book after my vacation in 10day , I will catch up with everyone.Thanks for excellent review , it is very informative.
My first time through, some years ago, was in a translation I no longer have (I’m reading the Pevear now). As the book went on, I came to be drawn very closely to Alyosha, even thinking of him as a sort of role model, even though he too had flaws. The conflict between a childlike character and the rough and gruff world around them seems like a theme that comes up more than once in Dostoevsky—I hope also to read The Idiot sometime. How one approaches being childlike is important for one in following Christ. What is the difference between childlike and childish?
Many aspire to be like Alyosha—he possesses rare and attractive qualities that seem innate rather than learned. His unconditional love for everyone and complete lack of judgment draw people to him naturally. It's no wonder they said he would never be destitute, even without money—people would freely give him whatever he needed, without him asking. These qualities have an almost fairy-tale quality, the kind found in novels and epic tales.
Children are indeed central to understanding Dostoevsky's religious views. While anyone can be childish at times—acting frivolously and displaying immature tendencies—few can truly be like a child in their mind, embodying that pure and open worldview. This rare quality is what we see in Alyosha, and to some extent in Myshkin.
Thanks for this helpful summary, Dana!
Refering to the names I would like to add:
Adelaide is the french version of Old High German "Adalheid", today: Adelheid (oldfashioned name which is rarely used nowadays), "adal" means "nobel", "heit" means "figure" "form" "shape".
Ivan would be John in English, Johannes in German, from Hebrew יֹוחָנָן jôḥānān bzw. יְהוֹחָנָן jəhôḥānān over Greek Ἰωάννης Iōánnēs ("the Lord is gracious")
Pyotr translates into Peter in English and German, from Greek Πέτρος Pétros, „stone". In Mt 16,18 Jesus anounces "You are Petrus (Πέτρος Pétros) and onto this rock (πέτρα pétra) I want to build my community“.
Thank you for these additions. «Ancient» names indeed contain so much within them - and it's very interesting that Dostoevsky truly considered their meanings from their origins. Few writers did this, as most limited themselves to simply inventing surnames.
This discussion of names is very interesting. An important controversy between the Eastern Orthodox and Western Catholic Churches had to do with the Petros/Petra in Jesus’ statement. The Roman Church of course took it to mean that Jesus was building his church on Peter himself (and the succession of Popes) whereas the Orthodox fathers taught that it was Peter’s confession: “you are the Christ (anointed one), the son of the living God“ that would be the foundation of Jesus’ Body. This is the confession held in common by the various Orthodox Patriarchs. This results in very different understandings, particularly regarding how the Church is governed.
I was just looking at the names from an onomastic point of view
Thanks, didn’t know about this difference!
This is my first time reading any Russian literature. I’m really enjoying the novel and your questions and insightful comments are helping to round the experience out nicely! Glad I stumbled upon your substack.
This is wonderful—I'm glad you're with us, Bill. For a first-time reader, you've chosen quite a challenging novel, but it's truly fascinating, with so much to interpret and contemplate.
By the way, you might not know that your surname is a transliteration of the Russian word for "wolf" (волк).
I am reading Brothers Karamazov for the second time now and starting to pick up on some philosophical controversies in Dostoyevskiy's views. For instance, Dostoyevskiy is thought to have strongly believed in free will. Yet, when he talks about Alyosha and how lovable he was purely by nature without any effort on his part, he seems to admit that Alyosha could not help it but to be nice and loved by everyone. This seems to suggest some admission of determinism. The fact that Alyosha did not feel much at his mother's grave despite vividly remembering her is somewhat similar to Meursault's behavior when maman died in "The Stranger" of Camus. Unlike Meursault, Alyosha is portrayed by the narrator in such a way that the reader should expect a different reaction from Alyosha when visiting his mother's grave. Here, determinism seems to also come into play: the fact that Alyosha was raised without his mother since the age of four resulted in him not having any significant feelings towards her since when we don't spend ample time with someone, we are unable to truly love them. It seems that circumstances of his upbringing ended up affecting his response when visiting his mother's grave.
On another note, Fyodor Pavlovich is being portrayed, at least on the surface, as a very unpleasant individual, and we are seemingly supposed to deeply dislike him. That being said, he had a lot of insight into himself being a problematic individual - his drinking, orgies, giving up his kids among many other things. He also seemed to love Alyosha so much because his youngest son was the only one who was truly Christ like towards him - he did not judge him. But how much of a free will did Fyodor Pavlovich (or Dmitry for that matter) have to control his detrimental impulses? If Alyosha was nice and shy by nature, could Fyodor Pavlovich be careless, impulsive and not caring towards his kids by nature also? Could his genetics or upbringing have at least something to do with the way he is? The narrator tells us nothing about how Fyodor Pavlovich was raised and what his parents were like. I think that the narrator tries to tell us that Fyodor Pavlovich is a more controversial figure than he initially seems: the fact that he was seemingly devastated when his first wife died, for instance, seems to suggest that he did have and was capable of feelings towards her. For some reason, I am having a lot of difficulty deeply disliking Fyodor Pavlovich...
Overall, while Dostoyevskiy is known to be a believer in free will, in my view he seems to admit, at least indirectly, that we are at least somewhat determined by our circumstances a la Ortega's " I am I and my circumstance".
Interesting observations, Valeriy, but it's important to note that this novel is fiction—Dostoevsky doesn't express his personal viewpoint through every sentence and character, but rather portrays multiple perspectives. Similarly with free will—I believe some elements serve the plot rather than make philosophical statements.
But you're right about our limited knowledge of the main character. He remains enigmatic—though nothing positive is said about him, we find it difficult to despise him at this point. As the plot unfolds, I expect we'll explore more aspects of Alyosha's "free will," questioning whether he truly possesses it or whether he'll inevitably manifest his father's traits.
Thank you, this was very helpful. I am very intrigued by the meaning of names
I'm glad that reading the novel is captivating 🙌🏻
Thank you for such a detailed analysis of the first book! I've long wanted to reread "The Brothers Karamazov," and your discussions helped me see many new aspects. The observations about the meaning of names and the two opposing worlds represented through Karamazov's wives are especially interesting. I had never before considered the connection between the Sofia and Christian symbolism!
And the reflections on the narrator's identity made me look at the narrative in a new way. I'm eagerly looking forward to our reading of the second book!
I'm delighted that you find the novel captivating 🙌🏻
I’m looking forward to following this. I only just finished the book yesterday, but enjoyed it so much that I’m eager to delve into studying it more closely!
Have you read it in its entirety? Feel free to join at any time. I hope you'll find something useful, Anthony.
Yes, it took several breaks in between, but I finished it last week. It’s interesting to read the analysis of book 1 so far, I find myself wanting to connect the dots to events and characters from later chapters though, and don’t want to spoil anything!
It's wonderful that the novel has had such an impact that you want to reread it. Here in our club we have people who are rereading it after 40 years, and some who have read it many-many times. So yes, let's explore it together gradually - welcome aboard!