Ilyushechka's Resurrection and Alyosha's Speech

I was trying to decipher the meaning of Alyosha's speech following the funeral of little Ilyushechka Snegiryov. Since this speech is located at the end of the book, I assume that it is meant to serve as a resolution of the problems and questions prevalent throughout the book. But it is also a sort of introduction of a new life for Alyosha, for Kolya, and perhaps for the book's other characters who are not present. I was confused that during the Speech, Alyosha said that he had "two brothers, of whom one is about to go into exile, and the other is lying on the point of death." (982) Why would he say that Dmitry is going into exile if he is certain that the escape scheme will be a success? Perhaps Alyosha believes that the journey to America will involve the same sort of spiritual abandonment and struggle which imprisonment in Siberia would have? Or perhaps it is not Dmitry who he expects to go into exile. Perhaps when he says that one brother lies "on the point of death," he expects Dmitry to be killed during the escape attempt and that Ivan shall have to go into exile to resolve the questions which are torturing him about the uncertainty of God and his guilt regarding the death of his father.

Anyway, I think it is significant that Alyosha's speech follows Kolya's comment that he would give anything to have Ilyushechka resurrected. (981) In essence, Alyosha's speech is a call for each of the boys to "resurrect" Ilyushechka through their own lives, to live FOR him. He asks the boys to remember that Ilyushechka was kind and brave for standing up for his father, and for bearing their insults. (982-83) By asking the boys to not forget each other, Alyosha is giving them a second chance to love one another as brothers and friends, to redeem themselves for failing to include Ilyushechka in that brotherhood. It is particularly important that he contrdicts Kolya's remark to Kartashov that no one cares whether or not he exists. Alyosha realizes that if he is to redeem these boys and make them into a band of brothers, as it were, he must remove any sense of superiority in them and teach them to be "magnanimous" and "modest" (984). I think, therefore, that Alyosha is trying to resurrect Ilyushechka in the form of Kolya, to teach Kolya how to become the boy and the man whom Ilyushechka would have grown into had he lived.  

Killing Him with Kindness

One of the most infuriating things about this novel was seeing Katerina Ivanovna try to remain with Mitya despite the latter's constant disrespect to her. The mere fact that he chose Grushenka over her should have given Katerina enough reason to go immediately to the public procurator with Mitya's "mathematically" incriminating letter. But instead she waited until Ivan's reputation was in jeopardy to finally cut ties with "that monster and murderer" (881).

This woman's silly mind games puts her at number 2 on my list of exasperating and obnoxious characters (Mrs. Khokhlakova, of course, occupies the number 1 spot). But I cannot understand just what she was thinking! Obviously, her affections proved more loyal to Ivan, or else she would not have condemned Mitya to save him. But why bother protecting Mitya in the first place? She claims that she "wanted to save him, because he hated me so much and despised me so much" (880). Is Katerina a masochist who enjoys be tormented, or does she feel that being a victim gives her some form of moral superiority, the way Christ was spit on by the crowd? Perhaps she wanted Mitya to feel that he owed her one.

Remember her earlier monologue in the "Crack-up in the Drawing Room" chapter. It was here that Katerina announced her plan to "shadow him relentlessly" until he became disillusioned with Grushenka and crawled back to her. "I shall be his god, to whom he will say his prayers....And may he perceive all his life that I shall be faithful to him and to the promise I gave him, even though he was unfaithful and false to me." (248) In other words, it was Katya's intention to kill Mitya with kindness.

When she took his money and bowed to him, Katerina was humiliated by Dmitry's charity. Like Snape who was saved from werewolf/Lupin by his archenemy James, she hated being in his debt. And after Grushenka reminded her of her debt to Mitya, she resolved to place Mitya in an equally inferior position by turning the other cheek and giving him her cloak in addition to her tunic. Some think that Christ's admonition against revenge is an invitation to be weak, but when it is directed towards a person who truly feels regret, it can be a very painful revenge. Nothing hurts a remorseful criminal worse than being forgiven by someone who has every right to hate him. In Katerina's mind, Mitya would have to live his life out knowing that he owed his salvation to her silence, and that would be enough for her - to have him spend everyday silently praising the goddess who delivered him from his just death.

Movie: When reading the book, I did not envision it snowing; but then again it is Russia.I remember Isham telling us that when he was translating a novel, Dostoevsky had to change the amount of snow being described, because what would seem like much snow in the author's native country would seem like a slight frost to a Russian.
And about the miniseries, did you notice that as Dmitry is being led to the prison, Katerina is standing with Ivan and Grushenka with Alyosha? What does this symbolize? Grushenka and Alyosha both believe in Mitya's innocence, but then again so does Ivan. Do you think that Ivan's close encounter with Mitya is meant to be taken as a subtle apology for having uttered the philosophical theory which (according to Smerdyakov) placed his brother in the situation he is in?

Neurochemistry in Dostoevsky's Writings

During Dostoevsky's time, Russia was undergoing a subtle-kind of enlightenment. Still very much a medieval country, Russia's government was very autocratic and valued religious tradition over modern scientific thought. Yet there was an unofficial class of society, the intelligentsia, who studied the progressive theories and political philosophies of Europe, and tried to revolutionize their country through their public writings. One of the issues which the intelligentsia - who are represented by Rakitan in the book - seek to resolve is the issue of whether human beings can truly be held responsible for their actions, or if their actions are simply the result of external forces which influenced their development.

In Chapter 4, Rakitan attempts to enlist Mitya's help in using the publicity of the latter's trial to advance the cause of nature over nurture. "He wants to write something with a progressive tendency," says Mitya, "that says something like: 'He couldn't help committing murder, he'd fallen prey to his environment." (752) But Rakitan's presence raises the debate to a level much more fundamental than nature vs. nurture: it is a question of whether men are influenced by spiritual forces or by a more natural force.

Mitya associates Rakitan's brand of socialism with chemistry by referring to its adherents as "Bernards", a reference to Claude Bernard, a chemist who appears to have regarded humans as more as animalistic beasts than as spiritual beings. (752, 1008n3) Mitya hints to Alyosha that chemistry, with its new theories regarding the influence of neurotransmitters over human action, threatens religion's monopoly on moral teaching. "Your Reverence, you must move over a little, chemistry is coming!" (753) Mitya seems to have been somewhat persuaded by Rakitan's argument when he comments that there are devils with tails "in the nerves inside my head". (753) But he cannot admit that God and spirituality are completely dispensable in the grand scheme of human survival. When he looks forward to spending his life in penal servitude, Mitya professes that he will need the belief in God to sustain him, to help him believe that his life is not void of meaning. (756-57) Dostoevsky himself would understand the necessity of having a spiritual belief system in order to persevere, seeing as he himself was faced with the type of banal existence which Mitya contemplates.

This reminds me of Ivan's comment that if God did not exist, man would be justified in creating Him. It is true that it does nothing in the way of proving God's existence to say that He is comes in handy when we are in need of a reason to transcend our boring, earthly existence. But it supports the notion that the invention of God was inevitable in the history of the human race, that we are not equipped by nature to keep from going crazy in a nihilistic world - and therefore have no choice but to create a mythology which will serve as a type of analgesic in times of suffering.

Did Kolya Actually Read Anything?

In Book X, we are introduced to precocious little Kolya Krasotkin, who seems to dazzle everyone with his encyclopedic knowledge and professorial vocabulary. Kolya is indeed well-spoken and obviously possesses above average intelligence. But I wonder just how well-read the boy actually is? We read him think to himself "And what if he discovers that that issue of The Bell ... is the only thing in it I have read?" (710) This statement implies that out of every volume or text passed down to him by his father, Kolya has only read this single literary journal. This seems at odds with what the narrator initially led us to believe about him.

Let us examine the first mentioning of Kolya's reading habits on page 660: "His father had left behind him a book-cupboard in which there was a number of books; Kolya was fond of reading and had already read some of them on his own." We learn further on page 663 that Kolya "had read the section dealing with the founders of Troy in Smaragdov's History". So Kolya has indeed read from texts in the cupboard other than The Bell - our narrator has established that beyond doubt. But I still wonder - has Kolya ever actually finished a book?

The boy is embarrassed to confess to Alyosha that he only read a reference to Eugene Onegin after he had implied that he had read the entire novel. It seems to me that Kolya's thought about only reading The Bell, combined with his fear at appearing less well-read than he appears, is indicative of the fact that he has never read an entire book cover-to-cover. He is one of those sycophants and pretenders who skims books which intellectuals would read, borrows a few phrases to impress people, and polishes his speech to make everyone believe that he is a prodigy. Professor Isham mentioned in class that he remembered speaking more grown up in his adolescent years as a means of feeling more mature. I myself remembering trying to sound like a braniac at the dinner table, but all I was really doing was making a fool out of myself. In the end, that is what Kolya is doing to himself, and when the time comes when his pretended knowledge is called upon, he will be left without a leg to stand on.

The Public Procurator

Friends, I apologize for not posting a blog last week, it was inexcusable. The good news is that I am now reading "Crime and Punishment" and am half-way through the book. I also happened to notice a couple of similarities between the murder by Raskolnikov of a pawnbroker and the murder mystery in which Dmitry Fyodorovich now finds himself. For starters, Dmitry was seriously contemplating suicide shortly before being found by the police; in "C&P" a painter who is wrongly accused of the pawnbroker's murder is found preparing to hang himself before being apprehended by the police. I wonder if this is Dostoevsky's way of hinting to his fans that Dmitry is not the killer?

Returning to my theory that Smerdyakov may be the killer, I would like to point out that Dr. Varvinsky mentioned that Smerdyakov's fit is lasting much longer than most epileptic episodes (587). This increases my suspicion that he is faking to avoid being accused of the murder. Also, in "C&P" Raskalnikov suffered a long series of fainting spells while trying to process the reality that he had actually murdered another human being.I believe that Smerdyakov's "fit" may be a genuine physical response to his having killed Fyodor and that the reason it appears so long to the Doctor is that his previous one was a fake; the doctor of course puts the chronology of the fake fit and that of the real one together!

Now, I turn your attention to the public procurator Ippolit Kirillovich. It is interesting that Dostoevsky puts his age at 35 - the very same age as Porfiry, the magistrate who engages Raskalnikov in a game of wits! This may be a deliberate comparison, or else Dostoevsky simply likes his sleuths to be middle-aged. His mind, we are told, is "very solid," and he possesses "a special knowledge of the human soul, a special gift for the analysis of the criminal and of his crime." (581) It is interesting that Dostoevsky describes this special analytical power as "artistic" because John Douglas, the former head of the FBI's profiling unit - whose job is remarkably similar to Kirillovich's -  in his book "Mindhunter", more than once compared forensic profiling to the ability of an art appreciator to step into the mind of a painter and feel empathy with how he felt applying his brush to canvas. This is a clear example of hoe Dostoevsky was both a competent psychoanalyst and far ahead of his time in the field of studying the human mind.

Why did the Onion break?

I am glad that we got a chance to learn more about Grushenka in this reading. Dostoevsky's characters seem to be too complicated to be labeled as simply heroes or villains; they each have a little good and bad mixed into them, and it would have been a shame to have had Grushenka represented in no way other than her belittling treatment of Katerina Ivanovna. I think that Agrafena Aleksandrovna is depicted in this scene as a woman trying to fight for her survival and not lose her ability to be a good person in the process. And like all of Dostoevsky's characters, she threw a bit of philosophy into her dialogue.

Grushenka's parable of the onion shares certain themes with the lifestyle of the Elders and their novices. Issues such as sin and redemption, as well as the manner in which one may attain the one in place of the other, play a central role in both Zosima's sermons and Grushenka's fairy tale. In her story, a sinful woman is thrown into Hell with nothing to show for living a virtuous life but the charitable act of giving an onion to a beggarwoman. This onion is to be the lifeline with which she pulls herself out of damnation. It at first seems as if she shall climb out; but as the other sinners try to latch onto her, she becomes selfish and tries to kick them away, which is when the onion breaks sending her back into the pit of fire. (page 456) The central question here is, Why did the onion break?

A simple answer would be that the onion's strength could not support the weight of both the woman and her comrades. But since when have Dostoevsky's riddles been that simple? No, the breaking of the onion would have had to been a result of the woman's own behavior since it is her salvation which was at stake. We are told that she did not share the onion because "she was a wicked-wicked woman" (two wickeds for the price of one!). Because wickedness is an ideal cause for damnation, it is logical that he wicked refusal to share the lifeline was the reason for her being denied rescue. Therefore, the onion broke not out of physics but out of divine judgment. But what does this have to do with the theology of the Eldership and Novicehood?

Zosima has spoken frequently about how Christians must bear the guilt of others, both for their own salvation and for the salvation of the world. He himself appears to have done that when he endured the cruelty of the town in which he lived after he had helped Mikhail find redemption. The reoccurring theme throughout Brothers Karamazov seems to be that a person's salvation does not depend on their looking after only themselves; the true test of whether or not someone goes to Heaven is whether or not they are willing to be their brother's keeper, and thereby seek to save others as ardently as one seeks to save oneself. It is doubtful that a person in Hell could use a past good deed as an escape clause and sign other damned souls on as dependents. But I think that Grushenka's story is metaphorical: it illustrates how one must live in the physical world more than in the afterlife. The message appears to be that one must perform good deeds not out of an expectation of reward, but as a means of influencing the souls of other human beings, and to truly become a messiah as Jesus had been.

I bow to you...

Throughout the book, there has been a recurring motif of bowing. The meaning behind this bizarre act in which on places his/her forehead directly onto the ground before another person has not yet been explained. I had thought that it may have been some provincial Russian custom, but the reactions which certain characters have had to it suggests that it may have a more practical purpose. We first encounter the bow on page 101 when Elder Zosima bows to Dmitry, who runs out of the room, his face covered. It is later revealed that bowing plays an important role in Dmitry's relationship with Katerina: she bows to him after he gives her money and he in turn tells Alyosha to bow to her for him when he seeks to end their betrothal.

Zosima claims on page 369 that his bow to Dmitry was in reference to the latter's "great future suffering". Granted, the old monk may have psychic powers and thus be able to foresee Dmitry's future; in such a case, his bow could be interpreted to mean a gesture of good will or pity, the kind directed towards someone who is about the embark on a dangerous enterprise. But if that was Zosima's motive, what is the meaning of the bows exchanged between Dmitry and Katerina?

I am assuming that Katerina was bowing to Dmitry out of gratitude for the money he gave her, but the circumstances surrounding that event seem to suggest a more spiritual intent. Dmitry describes being awed by Katerina's sense of nobility when she offered herself to him (152). It is likely that when he subsequently refused to make her sleep with him for the money, she too began to view him in this sense of awe and then bowed to him in reverence. It is therefore possible that the act of bowing can be an expression of awe given when one senses an impressive or profound aspect of another person's spirit.