“My friends,” he announced, “God is necessary to me because he is the only being who is capable of eternal love. My immortality is necessary if only because God would not want to commit an injustice and utterly quench the flame of love for him once it has been kindled in my heart. And what is more precious than love? Love is higher than existence, love is the crown of being, and how is it possible that existence is not subordinate to it? If I have come to love him and have taken joy in my love, is it possible that he should extinguish both me and my joy and turn us into nothing? If God exists, than I am immortal too! Oh, I would very much like to live again! Every minute, every instant of life ought to be a blessing to man. The entire law of human existence consists merely in the fact that man has always been able to bow down before something immeasurably great. If people are deprived of what is immeasurably great, they will cease to live and will die in despair.”

Let me ask you something: is there anything more important than freedom? Is anything to be valued more highly than one’s personal autonomy, one’s ability to choose how one lives with complete liberty? Is it possible to have too much freedom? Here in the West, Freedom of Choice has become our god, and we shall have no other gods before it. To this god we sacrifice our notions of the numinous and transcendent, our continuity with the past, our sense of obligation to those around us and those still to come; and perhaps, ultimately, our very selves. What was conceived in the seventeenth century as the freedom to pursue the Good in one’s own way has now become freedom for freedom’s sake. The existentialists said that man has existence before he has essence; now one might say that man has freedom even before he has existence.

Symptomatic of this is the emergence in our own time of “Wrongful Life” litigation. In some jurisdictions in Europe and the United States, children born with severe disabilities may actually sue their parents for failing to prevent their birth. “You acted irresponsibly,” these children might say, “when you brought me into a life of hardship and suffering without my consent.” But of course, severely disabled children aren’t the only ones who could legitimately say that. Though their suffering may be greater in degree and duration in some instances, it is impossible for anyone to live without some measure of suffering, because suffering, grief, pain, and loss are embedded within life itself. According to tradition, when an Aztec child was born, the midwife would dunk the wailing infant in cold water and declare, “you have come to suffer. Suffer and endure.” Underneath the superficial freedoms in which we take so much pride—freedom to dress how we want, say what we want, choose where to live, what to do for a living, or who to vote for—there lies a far more profound unfreedom: that of existence itself. None of us chose to be born. We were all thrown into this thing without the foggiest idea of what we were in for, and now we’re left to find our bearings and figure out, as best we can, what this mystery is really about. We strive to gain some level of mastery over our lives; we gather up power, wealth, strength, and knowledge, all for this purpose. But the mere fact of our existence, the fact that we are, serves as an eternal reminder of our fundamental powerlessness; a powerlessness that lies at the bottom of all of our strivings.

Why am I telling you this? Because that’s what I think this book is about: the ultimately tautological relationship between freedom and nihilism. The revolutionary cabal which gathers in our nameless Russian town is in rebellion against every inherited notion: religion, monarchy, the military establishment, order, traditional morality, conscience, and even the very distinction between good and evil. They want absolute freedom; total liberation of the ego from everything outside of itself. Consistent with their premises, the leaders of this sect—the mad demagogue Pyotr Verkhovensky, the anarchic prince Nikolai Stavrogin, and the anti-philosopher Kirillov (who is probably the truest nihilist of them all, because he insists that he has no obligation even to the group)--believe in nothing, and want nothing; except, perhaps, to lash out futilely against life, the universe, and everything that is. Like Milton’s Satan, they rebel against the source of their own being, for the purpose of destroying purpose, in a mad gambit to assert their nothingness and become gods of a godless cosmos. Kirillov sees what no one else in the novel does, except perhaps for his three antipodes, Tikhon, Shatov, and Stepan Trofimovich: the only free act is suicide. In an unfree existence, the only means of self-assertion is self-slaughter.

Dostoyevsky wrote this book out of despair. It is a work of prophecy, a jeremiad for the fatalistic logic he saw working itself out in Czarist Russia, and which continues to work itself out in our own time. We have charted our course by the sacred years of liberal revolution: 1689, 1776, 1789, 1848, 1861, 1968(?). Yet whatever their merits, each of these movements has carried a kernel of nihilism. Autonomy for the landowning class in America meant the freedom to renew the conquest and displacement of indigenous peoples. Embedded within the Jacobin fervor of revolutionary France were the September Massacres of 1792 and the Reign of Terror after 1793. The student rebellions and racial activism of the 1960s and 70s in the United States bore their bitterest fruit in the titanic stupidities of Bill Ayers and Assata Shakur. The Arab Spring collapsed in some regions into the apocalyptic death-worship of ISIS. I could go on; but note that I don’t include here the Communist revolutions of the twentieth century, because they turned out not to be liberal revolutions at all; their nihilistic excess overcame their initial idealism.

Were these aberrations within the larger movements of which they were a part, or simply the most radically consistent manifestations of them? Dostoyevsky tends towards the latter view; in his novel, the sophisticated Francophile liberalism of the 1840s, embodied by Stepan Trofimovich, literally begets the nihilistic insanity of Pyotr Stepanovich. Outrageously, certain left-wing intellectuals continue to apologize for the reigns of Castro, Guevara, Hugo Chavez, and the like (defending the likes of Stalin, Mao Zedong, and Pol Pot is now too embarrassing even for them, although it wasn’t 40 years ago). Shortly after Fidel Castro’s death, Tariq Ali was interviewed by the BBC. When presented with a list of Castro’s crimes, he pithily replied that “mistakes were made.” Dostoyevsky would say, “not so fast”. Psychologically speaking, the “mistakes” weren’t really mistakes at all. On the contrary, the atrocities were more consistent with the revolutionary impulse, which has more to do with the perverse human fascination with destruction, malice, and ingratitude than it does with any ostensible political grievance.

When Pyotr Stepanovich clings to the left arm of Nikolai Vsevolodovich and promises to make him king of a ruined world, if only the latter consents to his program, this is not a debate over political methodology; this is Satan tempting Christ in the desert, and Mara tempting Gautama Buddha under the Bodhi tree. It is the battle within the soul, between a life-denying love of self and a self-denying love of God, upon which the fate of the world ultimately depends. The space in which humanity is to survive lies somewhere between these poles. As Stepan Trofimovich suggests, the only resolution of this ontological dilemma lies in Love, which is the true name of God; love of God, and love of God in oneself, the submission that makes us free.

Is it really the case that we are better than Dostoyevsky? This is a thought-provoking question. Dostoyevsky is a renowned and highly influential writer. His works explore the depths of human nature, the complexity of morality, and the struggles of the human soul. His novels are filled with vivid characters and intense emotional dramas. We may have our own achievements and advancements in various fields, but can we truly claim to be better than him? It is not a simple comparison. Our modern world has its own challenges and opportunities, but Dostoyevsky's insights and wisdom still hold great value. We should perhaps look at his works with respect and learn from them, rather than simply making a bold claim of superiority. We need to consider the different contexts and perspectives, and appreciate the unique contributions that both Dostoyevsky and our contemporary society have made.

“Demons” is a novel that I have been unable to finish. I must admit that I have never before read a book with such a profound impact. The words and ideas within it constantly swirl in my mind, like a tempestuous storm.

The review of this great work has finally emerged. Where did I start and where did I end? I have been reading it for a month. If I could manage to read more than 30 pages a day, it was a feat. I would often reread each page two or three times. I didn't want to move forward too quickly, as if I was afraid of leaving something behind. One step forward, two steps back.

I have been struggling with this book for an entire year. I wanted to read something great (although I can't quite put my finger on what that is), but I just couldn't get through it. There wasn't enough time, my mind was preoccupied with other things, and how could I force myself to read it when my heart wasn't in it?

I feel ashamed that I can't even start a conversation about this book. I don't want to pretend that I understand it.

Over the course of a year, this book has made me think about so many things. Although I can't quite grasp everything at once, I can say with certainty that Dostoyevsky is a writer whose creative process is completely familiar, understandable, and logical to me. I find my own thoughts in all of his works. It always seems to me that only I truly understand what he is saying. No other author is as natural to me as Dostoyevsky. I can't identify with any other character as much as I do with his.

Nikolay Stavrogin is a mysterious, enigmatic, and complex character. His actions and thoughts are so logical to me. As I said, in every book of Fyodor's, I find a character who perfectly expresses my own thoughts. Stavrogin is such a character in “Demons”. From the moment I met him, I was captivated. He is a character who demands respect, and other characters also respect him. He goes against the moral code, he is feared and revered. He is almost more than human, he is idolized, worshipped. He is an authority, everything gravitates towards him, there is nothing unexpected or unforeseen about him - everything is as it should be. He is a criminal, he commits atrocities and sins. He is intelligent, cunning, and resourceful, but also immoral, depraved, and corrupt.

I read about him with bated breath, eagerly awaiting what he will say or do next. I find myself unable to look away, as if my eyes are glued to the page. He also makes me feel uncomfortable, and I question my own character, realizing that I am no better than these immoral characters. I can't help but be drawn to his charisma.

“With Tikhon” is an excellent chapter, and I skipped “The Grand Inquisitor”. I was most familiar with this chapter. I think the same way Stavrogin does. Dostoyevsky's self-doubt and moral crisis are not only present in “Demons”, but are presented most perfectly here. The omission of Sulerzhitsky in “With Tikhon” was a mistake, and as soon as I realized it, I went back to the paperback the next day. This chapter must be read from beginning to end, not in the middle. Now I see what a mistake I made. I can't say anything more about what I have described above. Read it, you must read it, it's worth it.

Kirilov and Shatov are two characters, one no better than the other. Dostoyevsky uses Shatov as a mouthpiece for his own ideas. Kirilov is even more clearly defined. Varvara and Stepan Verkhovensky are also developed, but their love story should not have taken up so many pages. I skipped 30 pages and moved on to Kirilov or Shatov.

The young Verkhovensky is an idealized character. When I read about Stavrogin, I see a god, and when I read about Verkhovensky, I see a devil. He is a parasite, a monstrosity. He is a perfectly written monster. From beginning to end, he is a repulsive, loathsome creature, incapable of any good or virtue. He is a parasite that must be eradicated. He is a leech. He is a necessary evil, a natural consequence.

Kirilov's individuality and Stavrogin's depth are two sides of the same coin.

Karmazinov is a caricature of Turgenev. Well-written by Dostoyevsky, a starting point.

These are the characters that I can't seem to get enough of.

This is the greatest book I have ever read.

I have no more words to describe it, but I still can't convey what I have experienced and what is happening in my mind. Read it for yourself and see.

Perhaps this is the most uninformative review ever written. I don't know how anyone could gain any information about the book from it, or why anyone would want to read my opinion. I can't explain it myself.

If anyone has wasted their precious time reading these rambling words, I apologize.

With a heavy heart, I submit this review.

For a long time, I hadn't read any world classic. In this sense, "The Idiot" brought me back to myself. Dostoyevsky's work, which was written based on his being affected by a political murder committed in his period, and which reflects his concerns about the nihilism wave that left its mark on the political and the era - in Camus' words - is a prophetic book. I'm impatient to continue my classic readings with the author's work titled "The Idiot".

Additional Reading: https://mutlaktoz.wordpress.com/2011/...

It is truly remarkable how "The Idiot" has such a profound impact on me. Dostoyevsky's exploration of nihilism and its implications is both thought-provoking and eye-opening. His ability to weave complex themes and emotions into the characters and their stories is a testament to his literary genius. I can't wait to delve deeper into his works and discover more of the hidden treasures within.

The additional reading provided offers further insights into the relationship between Nietzsche and Dostoyevsky, which I'm sure will enhance my understanding of both authors and their works. I'm excited to embark on this literary journey and see where it takes me.

The Devils
Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Amidst complex relationships, conflicting ideas, and tormented souls, Dostoyevsky's Devils confronts us.

Strange Relationships
In Dostoyevsky's world, it's not easy to tell the enemy from the friend, the comrade from the beloved. Love mingles with hatred, envy with tolerance, and rejection with acceptance. We have the teacher who thinks his pupil is in love with him, the charming young man associated with a cripple, the son who aims to humiliate his father, and the brother who takes advantage of his sister who supports his life. In short: nothing is clear. There's no doubt that the reader will fall into the snares of the characters' illusions and try to sort out the events to extract the truth of those relationships. The love affairs in the novel took up more space than I would have liked. For I don't read Dostoyevsky for that.

Doctrines and Beliefs
In this chaotic stage, ideas mingle and diverge. From the absurd to the classical, from the believer to the atheist, until we reach those who believe that suicide will lead to absolute freedom. There is also a clear conflict between the fathers' generation and the sons'. The ideas are intense, and their presentation is hasty and intertwined. In some places, it was enjoyable, but for the most part, it was overwhelming. I missed the in-depth intellectual discussions that I was accustomed to in Dostoyevsky's novels, especially in Russian literature in general.

Tormented Souls
There is not a single character who spends a pleasant time in this text. Every soul is consumed by doubts, pains, and disappointments. Most of them are subject to envy and fall into degradation. As usual in Dostoyevsky's works, his skill in depicting the characters will prevent you from loving them purely or hating them to the core. You will come out of most of the characters with a mixture of unbelievable emotions: contempt with understanding, admiration with pity. Something that cannot be described.

Two Main Axes
The first part of the novel is dedicated to depicting the lives of the characters and their interactions with each other. The ties of kinship and friendship are convincingly intertwined and did not cause me any kind of confusion. I was also surprised that I did not encounter any difficulty in distinguishing the names of the characters throughout the novel. What bothered me was what I mentioned earlier about the stories of doomed, hidden, and suspected love. I was waiting for the intellectual debates and the great events to occur. Then came the second part, in which we live in the atmosphere of political differences and the struggle for power centers. The personality of Pyotr Verkhovensky shows his shrewdness in the face of this confusion, with his hidden sarcasm, false affection, and shameful contempt for everyone. This part was more enjoyable than the larger part that preceded it, but I was hoping for more on the level of intellectual discussions.

This novel receives the lowest rating among the works of Dostoyevsky that I have read so far, although I chose the best available edition and chose the best times for it, but the results are not always guaranteed in the world of books.

My rating 4.7

If you are delving into Dostoevsky's literary works, you must be prepared to focus intently on his writing. Complete concentration is essential as every detail he pen down holds significance. Just like all the other books of his that I have perused, this one too demands unwavering attention. The reason being, every character in the book is exquisitely described, and the writer has the remarkable ability to draw us into their very minds. Through the book "Demons", we come to understand how effortlessly people can be manipulated. The most cunning manipulator is the one who does it consciously, without uttering too many words. In my view, Nikolai Starvogin is precisely such a person. But the worst part is that he manipulates himself through his actions. This is why he will take the actions he does at the conclusion of the book. In this book, Dostoevsky, in some strange way, foresaw the October Revolution and certain other events from the past. One individual can wreak havoc on the world if he manages to manipulate a sufficient number of vulnerable souls into performing heinous acts. In the end, confused and well-intentioned people like Stepan Trofimovic, and those who live in a dream known only to them, ultimately become collateral casualties. In this book, Dostoevsky描绘了富人的世界, for whom the poor are merely an obstacle to their perfect utopias. It showcases the petty bourgeoisie in all its glory, where gossip is a commonplace occurrence, regardless of its truthfulness. It is a world that seems to be frozen in some liminal space between reality and fiction. Dostoevsky examines everything, even though he is cognizant that as a writer, he is drawn into a world where little can be altered. With his writing, he leads us to the end of the book, paying meticulous attention to every detail, every gesture, and every thought that his characters convey to the reader. If you desire to read Dostoevsky, be prepared for this immersive experience because you have to completely surrender to him and let him guide you. Read it when you are fully concentrated; otherwise, you will easily lose interest after just the first few pages.

In a dream about a disease, it was foreseen that the entire world would be struck by such a terrible and unknown epidemic that it would spread from the depths of Asia towards Europe. It was predicted that all would perish except for a specific few, a very small number. A new type of Trichinella worm was discovered, a microscopic being that infects the human body. However, this being has consciousness and will. Those who are infected by it immediately lose their minds like zombies. But they themselves believe that they are smarter and stronger. They have never been so certain about their powers of judgment, scientific deductions, or moral and religious beliefs.

۶
This dream-like scenario presents a terrifying vision of a world on the brink of destruction. The idea of a microscopic being with consciousness and the ability to take over human minds is both fascinating and horrifying. It makes one wonder about the unknown forces that could potentially威胁 our existence.

۶
Perhaps this dream is a warning or a reflection of our deepest fears and concerns about the state of the world. It reminds us of the importance of being vigilant and prepared for any potential threats, whether they come from within or without.

۶
In conclusion, the dream about the disease and the Trichinella worm serves as a powerful reminder of the fragility of human life and the need to protect and preserve our world.

In my opinion, this is Dostoevsky's masterpiece. I don't think I could count on the fingers of one hand the novels I find as valuable as this one. I will try to argue why I haven't read anything similar until now. Although it's not the first time I'm reading the novel "Demons", only the second time did I discover a masterpiece. Proof that some books need to be read multiple times at different ages.

Dostoevsky's work is not just a political novel; its psychological impact is metaphorically imprinted in the title itself. Who are the demons that haunt the characters, tormenting their minds to the point of madness and cruelty?

Each gesture, thought, and behavior develops psychological traits that are difficult to perceive, and the importance of Dostoevsky's works is enhanced especially by the fact that he doesn't waste his characters without offering them, for the most part, faithful traits. Even if his world is populated with dark characters who may seem possessed.

Stepan Trofimovich Verkhovensky is a scholar with liberal inclinations who will contribute to the nihilist influence through literary circles, but his grandeur will make him exaggerate his importance. From the very first pages, through the narrator Anton Lavrentievich, Dostoevsky describes the relationship between Stepan Trofimovich Verkhovensky and the widow Varvara Stavrogin, the widow of General-Lieutenant Stavrogin. He details a harmful, dysfunctional relationship, as it would be cataloged in modern language, between two characters full of drama. Between these characters past their first youth, there is a bond more like a mother-son relationship than one of friendship or love:

"... but one thing escaped Stepan Trofimovich until the end of his life: the fact that she had come to consider him simply her son..."

This passage, as well as others that fill the characterizations with rich details, makes me think of the archetypal concepts of the mother. From an abused childhood, sometimes an adult develops who has given up his authentic self for attachment, and an emotionally unstable mother will destroy the child's self and will to feed her own fantasies. Then the child becomes a biologically mature man, but not emotionally, he will remain infantile, with an uncertain self, incapable of self-management, as indeed Stepan Trofimovich is described.

"... the most innocent of all children who have reached the age of fifty."

This sad character will accept a new mother to fulfill his needs, a "mother" who in turn has her own needs and the same deep mental dysfunctions, thus creating a codependent relationship, in endless cycles of idealization and devaluation. These personalities often attract each other, and their relationships sometimes last for decades, precisely because they ensure each other gratification and mental stability.

Stepan Trofimovich Verkhovensky lives between the boundaries of euphoric elevation and intellectual self-satisfaction, just as easily transformed into depressive episodes and monumental psychological falls, episodes that sometimes lead to the somatization of these emotions in physical manifestations, with diarrhea and bedridden states, out of the fear that Varvara will abandon him. A deep fear of abandonment. His confabulations are also an integral part of his pathology.

A personality like Varvara Petrovna Stavrogin will never abandon him as long as he brings her the gratification she needs. She maintains a relationship that seems to devour itself every day until physical and mental exhaustion, only for the next day to unfold as if nothing had happened.

The news that she will go to Berlin for the restoration of her troubled mental health, after the episode in Petersburg, is received with enthusiasm by Stepan Trofimovich, but from the first letters to Varvara, his ruminations are evident; depression brings him into the same sick states.

His personality lives on the border between euphoria and the fall into the abyss of boundless exasperation. He gets excited at the thought of writing an important work, but everything fails in procrastination, apathy, and abandonment even before starting. Only a simple mental trigger is needed and everything fails. An unfathomable spleen seizes him in the moments set aside for work. He accumulates significant debts at card games, sums that Varvara has to pay, and those are also the moments of real dramas and hysterical impulses between the two, tensions forgotten, however, in the morning of the next day, repeated in endless cycles of idealization and devaluation.

Varvara Stavrogin expresses herself through criticism and victimization.

"... You won't believe me if I tell you how I've been harassed from all sides; everyone has tormented me, everyone: both enemies, and intriguers, and friends; perhaps friends more than enemies."

She has developed to receive her gratification through other people, in this case, Stepan Trofimovich, whom she appropriates like a domineering mother. She even chooses the cut of his clothing, after the model of the costume in which Kukolnik appears, a poet whose lithograph Varvara Petrovna kept even after decades, a portrait she had fallen in love with since her pension years.

When he no longer corresponds to the pattern she has imagined, Varvara brings Stepan Trofimovich endless reproaches about the decrepitude in which the years and neglect have brought him. Returning from a trip to Paris, she finds him wearing a red tie that deeply displeases her, since it deviates from the norms she has internally established.

She also reproaches him for intellectual neglect and abandoned readings, precisely because his erudition is her source of pride in society. At the end, the reproaches come that he has kept her in a state of intellectual backwardness. These reproaches will intensify when she decides to abandon Stepan Trofimovich, when he will correspond even less to the ideal image she has made of him.

Throughout the novel, Varvara Petrovna will oscillate to satisfy these needs from different sources; from Stepan Trofimovich, to the grand Iulia Mihailovna, whose influence, in turn, on her husband, Andrei Antonovich von Lembke, is evident.

We will read about the treatment of silence applied by Iulia Mihailovna, a manipulative technique as perfidious as it is infantile, by which she denies the presence of her husband, driving him to exasperation:

"Julia Mihailovna's manner consisted in adopting a contemptuous silence for an hour, two hours, twenty-four hours, or even for several days, a silence from which nothing he said or did could break, even if he tried to throw himself from the second-floor window..."

Both Varvara Petrovna and Iulia Mihailovna will encounter another manipulator who will control some of their actions, namely, Pyotr Verkhovensky, the son of Stepan Trofimovich Verkhovensky. This son, left in the care of wet nurses from his earliest moments of life, becomes a master Machiavellian.

Towards the end of the novel, deprived of Varvara Stavrogin, we will read about the same pathological need for attachment of Stepan Trofimovich Verkhovensky, who clings like a child to Sofya Matveevna, a peddler of religious books:

"I can't live without a woman beside me, but only that, to be beside me..."

Just like Varvara Petrovna, after the events with Stepan Trofimovich, will "adopt" this Sofya Matveevna.

Nikolai Stavrogin is the son of Varvara Petrovna and one of the most important characters in the novel. He comes from a wealthy family, and his studies could ensure him a high position in society.

From the very first descriptions, it seems that he has developed a strong antisocial structure in him, in which good and evil are not delimited, are interchangeable, and in his morality, promiscuity and the mockery of any social order are insinuated, since morality in his mind does not have a precise delimitation. He cannot maintain the high ranks he obtained in the army. He is constantly involved in violence and crimes. His instability leads him through various places where he descends into promiscuity and increasingly reprehensible acts. For this reason, out of a mocking whim towards his high society, he takes as his wife Maria Lebyadkina, the sister of the drunk Lebyadkin, the lame one with obvious psychological disorders. He seduces, rapes, humiliates, and abandons her with equanimity. Crime, promiscuity, and living in miserable conditions come as easily to him as their opposite, but the moments of nervousness are also those when he rushes into actions that he cannot control, justify, or understand. He includes them in a consciousness that does not exist in the emotional part but is lucid in the cognitive part. Nevertheless, this character sometimes expresses admiration in society. What makes Nikolai Stavrogin different from Pyotr Verkhovensky? I would say first of all that the answer lies in the particularities of their disorders. They are possessed by somewhat similar but still different demons. And precisely because of these variations, Nikolai realizes throughout the novel that something is not right with him, that he is different from the order of the world, but he cannot explain exactly what.

And this makes him seek answers up to Father Tikhon. He tries to control his fierce, unscrupulous criminal and predator side. The details read by Father Tikhon from Nikolai's written papers are even more edifying.

In the nihilist plot of the circle led by Pyotr Verkhovensky, although he has rather uncertain implications, he is still one of the main architects, but without a precise motive, unlike Pyotr Verkhovensky.

Dostoevsky explains Nikolai's psyche in a simple sentence quite clearly: "Some said that his face resembled a mask..."

A representation of an idea about a self.

For a moment, I had the feeling that the character Liputin was the only one who realized Nikolai Stavrogin's condition, but surely another reading will be even more edifying.

Regarding Pyotr Verkhovensky, the son of Stepan Trofimovich Verkhovensky, the narrator Anton Lavrentievich writes:

<< Pyotr Stepanovich was perhaps a rather intelligent man, but Fedka the Convict had guessed him well when he said of him that "he lived with the idea of a man he had invented himself." >>

The same nonexistent self. A consciousness that is completely lacking but that doesn't even have the vaguest suspicion of its lack.

This man, emptied of his human content and devoid of morality, having come to the city, aims to destroy all values through the manipulation and instigation of the characters in his circle of conspirators against the social order.

By establishing Shigalyovism, those ideas written by the character Shigalyov in his ideological notebook, in one of their secret meetings, he aimed to destroy society, the family, and to inoculate deep hatred. Everything culminated in dividing the world into two unequal parts, with one-tenth part to rule despotically the other nine-tenths of humanity.

Only in this part of the novel does Dostoevsky, observing the ideas of the times lucidly, in the circles he frequented before his arrest, describe visionarily the destiny of Russia with the revolution of 1917 and its consequences in world history after that year.

"One-tenth part obtains personal freedom and the unrestricted right over the other nine-tenths of mankind. These nine-tenths must lose their personality and turn into a herd and through unlimited submission reach, through successive regenerations, a state of primitive innocence, a kind of primitive paradise..."

"... while, in the case of the other alternative, which aims for a quick solution by cutting off a hundred million heads, what reward can I actually expect?"

"... such a massacre cannot be ended except in about fifty years, let's say thirty, because they are not just sheep and you say that they won't be so easily slaughtered..."

Historians who have studied the archives after the fall of communism have approximated the number of deaths in the socialist states to a hundred million, that hundred million heads that Shigalyov proposed to the circle of so-called revolutionaries as a necessary sacrifice for his primitive paradise.

The chapter "Our People" is indeed as dark as it is visionary in what was to come in world history with the revolution of 1917.

Pyotr Verkhovensky fully supports Shigalyovism, but he later admits to Nikolai Stavrogin that it is not out of socialist conviction.

"-..., so, you are not really a socialist, but a kind of ambitious... political?
- Call me a scoundrel! A scoundrel. Does it scare you that I am like this?"

Pyotr Verkhovensky uses ideology only as a lever, and the characters who have gathered around him are only tools of manipulation, in a plan of parasitizing consciousnesses, a great plan only in his grandiose vision. Those characters will sleep in their oblivion or in their ideological zeal until despair and remorse wake them up in the terrifying reality of the deeds committed.

All these ideas and many others from Shigalyov's notebook have a counterpart in "The Revolutionary Catechism" written by Sergei Nechaev, but also in "The Revolutionary Catechism" by Mikhail Bakunin. Moreover, Pyotr Verkhovensky is the embodiment of Sergei Nechaev in this novel, the Russian anarchist who wanted revolution at any cost. Sergei Nechaev, like Pyotr Verkhovensky, will flee abroad in 1869 after the murder of a student who doubted the scope of his organization. Nechaev, together with other group members, beat, strangled, and shot him, then threw his body into the frozen waters of a lake.

Shatov and Kirillov are also charming characters through their psyche. No Dostoevskian character is easy to love, but Shatov I liked perhaps the most. The slap given to Nikolai remained misunderstood or misinterpreted for a long time. The return of his wife shows the remnants of humanity that can be gathered in a person's soul, through the love and care he has for her, precisely when a being has the greatest need, having fallen physically and spiritually.

Liza and Dasha are rather shadowy characters, sentimental victims of Nikolai Stavrogin, this masculine archetype with magnetic attraction. Liza's love for Nikolai was as great as her hate and fear, but she would have followed him to the end of the world if he had asked, leaving her fiancé, Mavriky Nikolaevich, in the lurch at any time; a rather insipid character.

Dasha, Shatov's sister, "adopted" by the same Varvara Petrovna, is even more lacking in personality when she accepts a marriage with Stepan Trofimovich imposed by Varvara, an event that will bring Stepan Trofimovich's downfall in Varvara's eyes, even though she had arranged the wedding with certain goals. Pyotr Verkhovensky will also have his say here.

Karamazinov is the caricatured character through which Dostoevsky embodies Turgenev, the one who traveled in Russia only in short visits, just as Karamazinov does. When he senses the danger of social movements, he takes refuge in places abroad.

In the essay entitled "Fathers and Sons", Isaiah Berlin writes the following passage:

"Turgenev was despised by Russian critics, both on the right and on the left, as a deluded man, an expatriate who no longer knew his country because he was far from it, in Baden-Baden and in Paris. Dostoevsky condemned him as a renegade Russian, advising him to get hold of a telescope to help him see Russia a little better."

Regarding Kirillov, similar to Raskolnikov in "Crime and Punishment", I would say that his monomania is evident even through his words:

"Everyone else thinks of one thing and then immediately thinks of another. I can't think of anything else; my whole life I think only of one thing."

This idea is integrated into his philosophy. He thinks about rational suicide. A superior reason for dying; since God does not exist, then nothing has meaning, and through his suicide he will become God just as Jesus the man became the embodiment of divinity through sacrifice.

However, Pyotr Verkhovensky will integrate Kirillov's philosophy into a useful purpose for his plot, which will increasingly resemble a theater of the absurd. Kirillov is the sacrificial lamb that personalities like Pyotr Verkhovensky constantly place between their actions and consciousness, so that the latter does not have to suffer, and in front of society, it remains undiscovered.

Lebezyatnikov, Virginsky, Liputin, Shigalyov, Erkel; all this plethora of characters will be the flies caught in the spider web of Pyotr Verkhovensky who will create his own pandemonium, a place where the demons will reign forever in that provincial city and will try through a butchery to transform hell into the illusion of a primitive paradise. But it could only be that, a grandiose illusion that this character shared with the others, without any counterpart in reality. The fantasy of organizations that spread throughout Russia, ready to break the existing social order, was only a tissue of lies.

"Demons" is a satirical fresco of the Russian intellectual society of those times of revolutionary fervor. Even the conspiracy in the Petrashevsky circle, the accusation under which Dostoevsky was sentenced to death, was an exaggeration that Isaiah Berlin presents to us as at most a "conspiracy of ideas", as it was later described in his memoirs by Baron Modest Korf, a member of the commission investigating

Finally, it's done!
I really couldn't believe that I was able to finish it and I didn't give up in the middle. But I'm very happy about this success! Thank God! If I had given up halfway, the feeling of failure would have been with me forever!

I must say that there is a book. The first two-thirds of it is extremely boring for you, although the story has social, psychological and political points here and there. But unfortunately, it doesn't have the necessary charm of the pen of a storyteller. However, the last one-third of the book is much more interesting than the rest and it is a conclusion of the whole that gives charm to the whole book.

This book is a more political work than the other works of the author that I have read so far. It is about a nation that has lost its social balance and thus, instead of salvation, it destroys itself. The novel is a product of the situation in Russia at that time and the personal experiences of the author. The book gives us a lot of knowledge about the revolutionaries and other political organizations. It is about a group of revolutionaries who have no way to achieve their dreams. Like other works of Dostoyevsky, the novel revolves around the central dialogue and the interactions of the characters.

Second read 2025 to better understand stuff. It really helped.

This is a truly daring book, an intellectual feast. I must say, it was a mind-blowing experience. I could easily start reading it all over again to uncover any missed meanings.

Here are a few quotes that stood out:

"Nu e nevoie de instructie, cultura; destul cu stiinta! Si fara stiinta va fi material suficient pentru o mie de ani, insa trebuie oranduita supunerea...cum apare familia sau dragostea, apare indata si dorinta de proprietate. Vom ucide aceasta dorinta: vom slobozi betia, intriga, denuntul...orice geniu il vom inabusi inca in fasa, vom reduce totul la un numitor comun, egalitate deplina...Dar va fi nevoie si de convulsii; de asta vom avea grija noi, guvernantii. Sclavii trebuie sa aiba guvernanti. Ascultare deplina, depersonalizare deplina, dar o data la treizeci de ani Sigaliov dezlantuie si o convulsie, si lumea incepe brusc sa se devoreze reciproc..."

"Chiar de la inceputul convietuirii lor, sotii Virghinski convenira o data pentru totdeauna ca e o prostie sa chemi oaspeti la onomastici, cand in realitate nu exista nici un motiv de bucurie"

"-Iti sunt unchi doar, te-am purtat in brate cand erai inca un prunc
-Nu ma intereseaza ce ai purtat dumneata si cand ai purtat. Nu te-am rugat sa ma porti si prin urmare... asta iti facea o placere personala"

"Daca-ti vei respecta tatal si parintii, vei trai ani multi pe pamant si te vei bucura de bogatie. E in Decalog. Daca Dumnezeu a gasit necesar sa ofere in schimbul iubirii familiale o recompensa, inseamna ca Dumnezeul vostru este imoral."

"Daca Dumnezeu exista, atunci totul e in voia lui, si din aceasta vointa eu nu pot iesi. Daca nu exista, inseamna ca totul este in vointa mea, si eu sunt dator sa-i afirm vointa suprema absolut libera... A omori pe altcineva ar fi punctul inferior extrem al vointei mele absolut libere... eu tind spre punctul extrem superior si ma voi omori pe mine insumi"

"Omul n-a facut altceva decat sa isi nascoceasca un Dumnezeu, pentru a putea trai fara sa se ucida."

"Ateul desavarsit ocupa penultima treapta care precede credintei desavarsite (ca va face sau nu acest ultim pas, asta este o alta chestiune); indiferentul, dimpotriva, nu are nici o credinta, ci numai o teama rea din cand in cand si daca este un om sensibil"

"Eu cred ca omul trebuie sa inceteze de a mai naste. Ce rost are sa aduci pe lume copii, ce rost are evolutia, daca scopul este atins."

After reading this book, I think it is easier and more efficient to change a government through anarchy and subversive actions than through mass demonstrations of the herd against something. I definitely have to read more on this stuff to gain a deeper understanding.

Fyodor Dostoyevsky, the renowned 19th Century Russian novelist, delved into a profound theme in his works.

What he diagnosed in his novels was the disturbing tendency of some to consider ideas as being more real than actual human beings. His characters often justified heinous acts like murder in the name of their ideological beliefs.

John Gray posits that this is precisely why Dostoyevsky has remained relevant throughout the ages. From the rise of the totalitarian states in the 20th Century to the so-called "war against terror" in more recent times, Dostoyevsky's insights continue to hold significance.

Dostoyevsky suggests that the consequence of forsaking morality in the pursuit of an idea of freedom can lead to a form of tyranny more extreme than anything witnessed in the past. As vividly confessed by one of the characters in "Demons": "I got entangled in my own data, and my conclusion directly contradicts the original idea from which I start. From unlimited freedom, I conclude with unlimited despotism."

BBC News.

There are certain seconds, only five or six at a time, in which you suddenly feel the presence of an eternal harmony completely achieved. It is not a terrestrial thing; I don't say it is a celestial thing, but I say that man, in his earthly aspect, cannot endure it. One must physically transform or die. It is a clear and incontestable feeling. As if suddenly you have the sensation of all of nature and suddenly you say: yes, it is true. God, when creating the world, at the end of each day of creation said: "Yes, it is true, it is beautiful". This... this is not a softening, but just like that, a joy. You don't forgive anything, because there is no longer anything to forgive. It's not that you love, oh! here it is more than love. The most terrible thing is that everything is so tremendously clear and the joy is so great. If it lasted more than five seconds, the soul could not resist and would have to disappear. In those five seconds I live a life and for them I would give my whole life, because it is worth the cost.

Ci sono dei secondi, non ne vengono che a cinque o sei per volta, in cui sentite tutt'a un tratto la presenza di un'armonia eterna compiutamente raggiunta. Non è una cosa terrestre; non dico che sia una cosa celeste, ma dico che l'uomo, nel suo aspetto terrestre, non la può sopportare. Bisogna trasformarsi fisicamente o morire. È un sentimento chiaro e incontestabile. Come se a un tratto aveste la sensazione di tutta la natura e a un tratto diceste: sì, è vero. Dio, quando creava il mondo, alla fine di ogni giornata della creazione diceva: "Sì, è vero, è bello". Questo... questo non è un intenerimento, ma soltanto così, una gioia. Non perdonate nulla, perché non c'è più nulla da perdonare. Non è che amiate, oh! qui si è più su dell'amore. Il più terribile è che tutto è così tremendamente chiaro e la gioia è così grande. Se durasse più di cinque secondi, l'anima non resisterebbe e dovrebbe sparire. In quei cinque secondi io vivo una vita e per essi darei tutta la mia vita, perché vale la spesa.