شايسته ي وصفي است كه هميشه ازش شنيده بودم : شاهكار ...
درجلد اول ، كتاب پنجم ، فصل پنجم جمله اي آمده است كه همانند آنرا در شعر فروغ فرخزاد بارها و بارها خوانده ام و بسيار دوست دارم :
"و همان مردمي كه امروز بر پايت بوسه مي زدند ، فردا به يك اشاره از من خواهند شتافت تا خيمه هاي آتشت را تلنبار كنند "

... و اين جهان پراز صداي پاي مردمي است كه همچنان كه تورا ميبوسند طناب دار تورا ميبافند (فروغ)




"١٧ آبان١٣٩٣"

This book was a literary masterpiece. I cannot describe the book as I read it. I feel like I would not give it the justice it deserves. I would somehow ruin the the greatness of the characters and the whole meaning of the story.

I will just give you a gist of what it is. It surrounds three brothers named Karamazov with the same father. It is read with each his own story and suddenly they collide in the wake of their despicable father's murder. It questions our deepest moral concerns. The origin of evil and wrong but also good and truth, the true meaning of freedom, how much a human craves meaning, and the universal question of whether God exists or not. Did God create man or did man create God? Can loving all men and earth with unceasing, consuming love save us from cruelty and set an example to others?

I feel like this book should be a high school literature requirement. It touches the soul and makes you question what kind of person you are and want to be. A sort of self reflection. It is definitely a hard read but it is worth the sacrifice. It was written in the 19th century but it is so relatable to life today. I can quote so many of the pages but I will do the one that caught me:

And what follows from this right of multiplication of desires? In the rich, isolation and spiritual suicide; in the poor, envy and murder; for they have been given rights, but have not been shown the means of satisfying their wants... Interpreting freedom as the multiplication and rapid satisfaction of desires, men distort their own nature, for many senseless and foolish desires and habits and ridiculous fancies are fostered in them... They have succeeded in accumulating a greater mass of objects, but the joy in the world has grown less. (PAGE 296)

I bought Dostoevsky's other works. I hope they will be as great and insightful as this one.

I'm writing this review as I read. Frankly, I'm astounded by how good this is and how compelling I'm finding it. Astounded? Why should that be? This is a classic, after all. True, but it breaks just about every "rule" of fiction. The plot so far is virtually nonexistent: three brothers get together with their wastrel father and all sorts of dysfunction, including an odd love triangle involving the father and the eldest son, are revealed. The brothers aren't particular close to each other, and really not much happens except that they meet at a monastery, where the youngest son lives, for an audience with a holy man who's dying, and then they go their separate ways, except that they have kind of random meetings with each other and with the woman involved in the love triangle, and there's a vague sense of foreboding that something will happen to the father. And the characters? Not really the kinds of characters we're used to in contemporary fiction. These are characters who struggle with all kinds of philosophical issues and enjoy nothing more than debating them at length with each other. Sounds boring? Well, it's not. Not at all.

By the way, I'm reading the Ignet Avsey translation based on Kris's recommendation, and it's wonderful so far!

***

One of the things I find so fascinating about this book is how it can be both one of the most dark and cynical works I've read, and one of the most overtly spiritual and soulful. This is a true testament to Dostoyevsky's range, to how effortlessly he "contains multitudes" in this masterful work.

***

[Alert: Some Spoilers to Follow]

One of the most cynical passages I've read so far is about how, following the holy man's death, his fellow monks are all shocked when his corpse begins to smell. Because of course if he'd been a true holy man, they figured, his corpse wouldn't have smelled at all, so the fact that it started smelling makes them all begin to question whether he'd really been what they'd imagined. Soon several of them begin to remember times when he'd been shockingly and suspiciously less-than-holy, and then the pile-on really begins, as the monks begin competing to disavow him the most, with only a couple of his friends holding onto his good memory, but even they are cowed into silence by the general gleeful animosity. Oh, this Dostoyevsky really knows how to plumb all that's dark and pathetic about human nature.

***

After about page 500, the plot really picks up. We have murder, a mad dash to a woman, heavy drinking, protestations of love, and the police moving in. After the languid plotting of the opening sections, I'm almost breathless!

***

The use of the narrator here is so interesting. We have a nameless figure who lives in the place where the events take place recounting the story almost as if recounting a legend. At the same time, we get the characters' most intimate thoughts and long speeches that the narrator could not possibly have known first-hand. It all adds to the notion that this may be more the narrator's own tall tale than any faithful recitation of history--which of course is true, because it's a novel, but the way the artificial nature of the story gets highlighted makes me think it's another example of Dostroyevsky's cynicism at work.

***

All signs point to Dmitry as the perpetrator, but the way he protests his innocence just makes you want to believe him! He's having a hard time of it, though. The prosecutor and magistrate conduct a long interview of him, and the evidence is damning.

Interestingly, after Dmitry is taken away, the scene shifts radically, revisiting the young boys we'd briefly met earlier. What is Dostroyevsky doing here? In the figure of Kolya, a 13 year-old prankster wunderkind, he seems to be pointing out the limits of rationalism, the way it can be abused to wow those with slightly less knowledge and how it can ultimately come off as a big joke.

***

Now things have become complicated. Who's really guilty of this crime? We know who "did it" because he tells Ivan, but then he blames Ivan himself for his athiesm--for influencing him by the notion that nothing we do matters anyway.

***

At the beginning of the trial, we see Dostoyevsky's biting and cynical nature reassert itself, as he describes the spectacle that the event has become--the people who've traveled from far away to witness it, drawn by their desire to see the two female rivals for Dmitry and Dmitry himself, who's especially attractive to the ladies because of his reputation as a "ladies' man." The proceedings themselves seem secondary to the spectacle and the sport.

***

The trial itself is a fascinating deconstruction of Dmitry's character--how that character can be everything the prosecutor says, and yet at the same time, it's everything his defense counsel says too. We're given to long speeches about the character that are fascinating psychological studies (the lawyers themselves debate about this newfangled science of psychology--how plastic it is, how it can be used to justify and explain anything). You can see Dostoyevsky working on multiple levels here, showing multiple sides of his character that don't quite cohere, and that's exactly the point, that people are complex and inconsistent and constantly at war with themselves, so what does "character" mean? What does "a" character mean in a novel?

And just when it looks like the defense will carry the day....

***

The coda is a plan for escape and the funeral of a young boy, and yet it end on a curiously uplifting note, a statement of faith and everlasting remembrance--and a change, for the better, in many of the other young boys, united as they are in love of the lost boy, who thus becomes an almost Christian martyr, the one whose death brings love to all his friends.

And so Dostoyevsky brings to a close his massive masterpiece, and so I end these little scribbles.

“Above all, don't lie to yourself. The man who lies to himself and listens to his own lie comes to a point that he cannot distinguish the truth within him, or around him, and so loses all respect for himself and for others. And having no respect he ceases to love.”
The Brothers Karamazov ~~~  Fyodor Dostoevsky



This was my introduction to Russian Literature at the age of 14. I remember buying this at a flea market one weekend for $0.50 ~~ in hardback, & feeling very adult since I would be reading a n  Russian Novel.n Dostoyevsky started a love affair with Russian literature that exists to this day. Oh, and as for the novel, it's one of the best I’ve ever read.

Brothers Karamazov is an exceptionally tricky and intricate book. It's also an exceptional pain in the ass. I might have to create a new shelf for it called "I'd Have To Read It Again To Get It But I'd Rather Just Not Get It." Tristram Shandy can join it there. The first problem is when a speech is so long that it reminds you of Atlas Shrugged. The second problem is that when I finished it just now, the words that unconsciously escaped my mouth were, "Well, fuck you Karamazov."

Here's a game I made up during the interminable ramblings of Elder Zosima: Zosima or Baz? Guess whether each boring platitude below is from the Elder Zosima or Baz Luhrmann's 1998 novelty hit, "Everybody's Free (To Wear Sunscreen)":

a. Don't be reckless with other peoples' hearts; don't put up with people who are reckless with yours.
b. Keep company with yourself and look to yourself every day and hour, every minute.
c. Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth.
d. Cherish your ecstasy, however senseless it may seem.
e. Love children especially.

Answers at end of review

Okay, I almost never had a good time reading this book. Why'd I give it four stars? One reason: cowardice.

Listen, I know this book's smarter than me. Its inventiveness is impressive. Watch how careful Dostoevsky is with words: how each character, including the narrator, uses and misuses them, repeats them, throws them to each other. Check out how the stories - Ilyusha and Dmitri, Katya and Grushenka - intertwine. Feel how the word "Karamazovian" implants itself in you: you wouldn't be able to say what it means, maybe, I probably can't, but you'll know it when you see it from now on. Debate whether the whole thing is a comedy or a tragedy.

Before I read them, I used to think Tolstoy and Dostoevsky were probably more or less the same, y'know? Like, old Russian guys who wrote crazy long books, how different can they be? But they're not the same at all. Tolstoy is exceptionally controlled. Dostoevsky is pure virtuosity. I don't mean to say he doesn't know what he's doing; actually, Karamazov is more tightly structured than War & Peace is. But the energy behind it is more or less insane.

Four stars because I know this book is good; if I give it two stars, it would be like admitting that I let a brilliant masterpiece escape me for the prosaic reason that it's incredibly fucking boring. Y'know?

Four stars, dude. A brilliant masterpiece.

Introduction note: You can and should read the first section of Pevear & Volokhonsky's intro, up to p. xiv. It gives you great background. Get out quick after that though - right after "transforming them finally into a universal human drama" - 'cause they're gonna blow the whole plot in the next paragraph.

I forget which brother is which
Liz M. said this and it's perfect:
"Alyosha = superego or soul (youngest brother)
Ivan = ego or head (middle brother)
Dimitri = id or heart (eldest brother) "

If you haven't read Dostoevsky before: Start with Crime and Punishment. It's a better read.

Quiz Answers: Fuck you, Karamazov.

Човекът и неговото скитане по друмищата на живота. Човекът, който плува в океана на собствената си вселена и може никога да не достигне бряг. Онзи човек, който сам не знае какво е скрито в душата му.

Разбира се, че Достоевски е всемир. В „Братя Карамазови“ той не е намерил сили да пише за нещо по-малко от целия живот. В „Братя Карамазови“ тема няма. Нито сюжетна линия. Нито праволинейност, нито чиста фабула. Там има живец. Има вплитане, вкопчване, схватка на съдби, отзвук, рикоширане на думи и действия. В „Братя Карамазови“ има грозота, толкова много грозота. Но има и мигновено разпознаване на красивото, което те прави нещо повече от теб самия, нещо повече от човек (лирично отклонение: този мотив ме подсеща за шведския филм “Till det som är vackert”, незнайно защо преведен като „Обичана“). Роман, в който персонажите са птици, а битието им е клетка с невидими решетки и те се блъскат обезумели в незримите си чисто човешки ограничения, блъскат се до отмала и до кръв.
„Защото тайната на човешкото битие не е само да се живее, а за какво да се живее. Без да си представя ясно за какво живее, чове�� няма да се съгласи да живее и по-скоро ще се самоизтреби, отколкото да остане на земята, ако ще наоколо му да е само хлябове.“

В романа житейските позиции на братята Карамазови постепенно се раздиплят и всяка поглъща в собствения си въртоп. Отдаденият на бога Алексей, самият той подобен на ангел, в хармония със себе си и със света, безусловно следващ своя наставник. Безбожникът Иван, чието присъствие в целия роман е спорадично, но изключително силно. В „Бунтът“ Иван задава безмилостен ритъм с монолога си за съмнението в бог, за теодицеята и почти скверните описания на нещастията по света. Същата нощ, след прочита на тази глава, ми остана като прогорено зад очите „как селякът шиба коня с камшик по очите, „по кротките очи“ и детето, което „се удря с мъничкото си юмруче по измъчените гърдички и плаче с кървавите си незлобливи, кротки сълзици пред „боженцето“, да го защити“. Възглавницата ми е виждала и по-сухи и не толкова солени нощи. Впрочем ненапразно казвам, че Иван е безбожник, а не атеист, тъй като все още помня едно изказване на някогашната ми учителка по философия – че чисти „атеисти“ няма, има просто теисти, защото хората все в нещо вярват. Било то в някакъв бог, в прогреса или дори единствено в самите себе си.

И третият брат, грешникът Дмитрий. Дмитрий не е нито боголюбив, нито ревностен отрицател. Той е най-ясният изразител на онези „карамазовски страсти“, които погубват. Той е събирателен образ на човека – без да е фанатик, има пламенни залитания към вяра и надежда, но има и моменти, в които екзистенциалните въпроси го вълнуват по-малко от една дума на любимата жена. Персонажът на Митя дава възможност за разгръщането на двата ярки и противопоставени женски образа – на жената изкусителка и строгата съдница. Въпреки че характерите на Аграфена и Катерина са привидно диаметрално срещуположни, Достоевски и тях е опръскал с мастилени капки дуализъм, защото само такива или онакива хора няма. Неми изрезки от чернобяла лента сме ние и през целия си живот опитваме да багрим душите си по някакъв свой вкус. За мен Дмитрий беше истинският протагонист в романа. Макар в началото да се твърди, че става въпрос за животоописание на пътя на Альоша, най-пълнокръвен и истински беше именно Митенка – с възторзите и паденията, с раздвоената си любов, с ненавистта към родителя, белязала живота му.

В „Братя Карамазови“ освен големите мотиви за религията, невъзможната любов и престъплението (от любов) има още няколко микрокосмоса, чрез които успяваме да надзърнем в душите на персонажите. Живачно красиви и неуловими, непрестанно изменящи се. Като човеците. Като живота.

It's not hard to understand Nabokov's objections to Dostoevsky. It's his scruffiness as a novelist Nabokov with his literary sartorial elegance would have objected to. For example, his gun-ho attitude towards unnecessary repetition. And also his occasional lapses at organising his material for maximum dramatic effect, most evident in the construction of the trial. Nabokov was much more of a literary dandy than Dostoevsky, much more self-conscious, much more vigilant in his attention to detail, more subtle and ingenious in his artistry. But Dostoevsky was more courageous and pioneering psychologically. More intimate with the dark and unearthed side of the human condition. Nabokov was always looking for the laugh; Dostoevsky was more drawn to the accelerated heartbeat, the rush of blood to the head.

Dostoevsky's closest ally as a novelist is probably Emily Bronte. I thought while reading this that it's literature's greatest tragedy that Emily never got to write another novel. It's almost a complete mystery what she might have come up with. Like Emily, he dramatizes in the outer world the illicit promptings of the shadow self. Like Emily, he knows only a thin layer of cerebral paint shields us all from violence and horror. Like Emily, he's not the least interested in life's civilised arrangements, the house and garden existence. And they both mirror Shakespeare in this regard. Characters nakedly put the entirety of their being into every dramatic moment. Character is always fate.

The brothers are simplistically split into single imperatives of the human psyche: Alyosha is spirit/innocence, Mitya is sensuality and Ivan is intellect. Each of the brothers allow D to enter a different milieu of society. Aloysha surrounds himself with children and monks; Mitya with loose women and dissolute men; Ivan with progressive thinkers. You might say the three brothers combined are presented as an everyman. As always with D, his women, though relegated to background roles (historically accurate you'd have to say for the most part), are fascinating creations. This was especially evident to me as I was reading Michael Chabon at the same time whose women as a rule tend to be kind of perfunctory and less than vivid or nuanced or compelling as dramatic presences, often having no independent life outside their relationships with their men. D's women on the other hand blaze with frustrated independent aspiration.

I marvelled at the idiosyncrasies of my memory while reading this. Though I've read it twice my memory withheld all the central plot coordinates, yet I could recall various scenes as vividly as if they were a part of my own life. Made me think of Proust whose narrator seems to remember what we consider incidental details of his life rather than the big picture landmarks. There's clearly a lot of truth in this perspective.

I read a professional review of this which put forward the idea that Aloysha didn't interest Dostoevsky. I'd say this is utter baloney. For starters, the novel always benefits from his presence. He provides warmth and empathy. And then his narratives are often the most compelling - his flirtatious relationship with Lize or with the dying boy or with Zosima the elder for example.

I first read Brothers K, with a pencil in hand, on a Christmas break while I was in college. I was surprised in reading a different version recently at how I remembered pretty much the entire book. I have a good memory, but this is really a tribute to Dostoevsky's writing.

This includes this insightful quote that so obviously applies to where we are today politically...

"Above all, do not lie to yourself. A man who lies to himself and listens to his own lie comes to a point where he does not discern any truth either in himself or anywhere around him, and thus falls into disrespect towards himself and others."

================

From the intro....

In the process of the novel's composition it seems to have swallowed a small library: it is full of quotations, imitations, allusions. Its characters are not only speakers; most of them are also writers: they write letters, articles, poems, pamphlets, tracts, memoirs, suicide notes. They perform, make speeches, tell jokes; they preach and confess.

Dostoevsky is the true "writer's writer." His world is not limited to one or two claustrophobic characters, but expands into a whole universe of different voices.

Hence the large scale of Dostoevsky’s characters, their way of emerging from the book— so much so that commentators have often argued or agreed with them as if they were quite independent of their author. They are not representative social types or individuals but inwardly free persons. Dostoevsky seems intent on bringing together in one place as many contradictory people as possible.

======================

The genius of his writing....

The character in his novel is treated as ideologically authoritative and independent; he is perceived as the author of a fully weighted ideological conception of his own, and not as the object of Dostoevsky’s finalizing artistic vision....Dostoevsky, like Goethe’s Prometheus, creates not voiceless slaves (as does Zeus), but free people, capable of standing alongside their creator, capable of not agreeing with him and even of rebelling against him. What unfolds in his works is not a multitude of characters and fates in a single objective world, illuminated by a single authorial consciousness; rather a plurality of consciousnesses, with equal rights and each with its own world. Dostoevsky is the creator of the polyphonic novel. He created a fundamentally new novelistic genre.

-Mikhail Bakhtin

==================

Excellent essay by David Foster Wallace on Dostoevsky....

https://www.villagevoice.com/2019/07/...

=======

Touché.....

Nabokov in his Dostoevsky segment of Lectures on Russian Literature scoffs that one can hardly speak of “realism” or “human experience” when discussing “an author whose gallery of characters consists almost exclusively of neurotics and lunatics.”

Of course, the same charge could be leveled at Nabokov’s own most notable characters, including Lolita’s Humbert Humbert and Pale Fire’s Kinbote. As Boston University Russian scholar Katherine Tiernan O’Connor has argued, Dostoevsky’s “ghostly shadow” is in fact nearly ubiquitous in Nabokov’s work.

داستایفسکی کبیر کتاب برادران کارامازوف را به مانند جدالی بین نیکی و بدی ،خیر وشر ، شک وایمان ، جبر و اختیار ، سکون و طغیان ، ثبات و تزلزل آفریده . شخصیت های او هم بازتاب همین احساسات هستند ، آنها شر مطلق یا فرشته خوبی نیستند ، آنها بسته به شرایط واکنش نشان می دهند ، گاهی ساکت هستند و صبور و گاهی هم طغیان می کنند ، آنها قربانی دوران خود هستند اما هم متهم هستند و هم متهم می کنند . کارامازوف ها آماده طغیان و سرکشی هستند ، سرشار از خشم و نفرت
همانند دیگر کتابهای استاد باز هم جنایتی صورت گرفته و این آغاز سفری ایست برای کارامازوفها که همانند راسکلینیکوف جنایت و مکافات که آشفته و سرگشته شوند ، به شک بیافتند ، مسیری را طی کنند و خواننده را همسفر خود کنند در این راه ، تا با تیپهایی متفاوت دیگر هم آشنا شود ، از پیر سالک گرفته تا خدمتکار و خانواده او . افراد زیادی که معرف وضعیت و طرز فکر روسیه آن زمان هستند . استاد این خصوصیت های متفاوت را بین کارامازوف ها هم تقسیم کرده و البته بیشتر صفات مثبت را به آلیوشا داده ، او را انسانی مهربان و جذاب و با خدا به تصویر کشیده ، انسانی بزرگوار که میان برادران خود میانجیگری می کند ، انسانی که خود را وقف عشق به همنوع خود می کند ، انسانی کامل و مطلوب استاد .
ایوان را هم جوانی روشنفکر و بی خدا دانسته که دل خوشی هم از زندگی ندارد ، با هوش است وآگاه ، ایوان میل به شورش و طغیان دارد ، او از مظاهر روسیه قدیم بیزار است ، شاید نماینده نسل جوان روسیه و صدای خطری باشد که داستایفسکی روسیه را از آن می ترساند .
دیمیتری پسر بزرگ خانواده بیشترین شباهت را به پدرش دارد ، او خشن است و برده شهوت ، هم ساده است و هم جاهل ، می خواره ایست ولخرج که ارزش پول را نمی داند . اما صفات خوبی هم دارد ، دروغ نمی گوید و حقیقت جو ست ، دیمیتری نماینده اکثریت جامعه روسیه است ، فاجعه داستان برای او رخ می دهد و دیمیتری را عازم آن سفر معنوی و طولانی می کند تا از نو متولد شود .
اما پدر خانواده فیودور کارامازوف شخصی ایست به تمام معنی مبتذل ، حقیر و بی ریشه . این فرد ناچیز عشق و محبت خود را از فرزندانش دریغ کرده و وقت خود را به عیاشی گذرانده . داستایفسکی با نشان دادن ذات خبیث این مرد و رفتار او با فرزندانش خواننده را متقاعد می کند که این فرد نباید وجود داشته باشد . فیودور شر و سیاهی را در دنیا دنباله دار کرده ، سامردیاکوف پسر نامشروع او که مهربانی و اهمیتی از فیودور ندیده در زندگی فیودور و داستان کتاب نقش مهمی بازی خواهد کرد .
اما پیرمرد که در دوران حیات زندگی پسران خود را به گند کشیده بود پس از مرگ نیز دست بردار آنها نیست ، چگونگی و چرایی به قتل رسیدن او دست استاد را برای بحثهای فلسفی آزاد می گذارد . داستایفسکی به دقت حالات روانی و ذهنی کارامازوف ها را شرح داده . او خواننده را با خود به تاریک ترین اعماق ذهن آنها برده تا به او بفهماند که همه در این جنایت سهم دارند .
کتاب چند خطابه مفصل و سنگین دارد که خواننده بنا به سلیقه خود آنها را می تواند خسته کننده یا جذاب بیابد . اولین آنها صحبت طولانی ایوان با برادرش آلیوشا در باب روشن فکری و ایمان است و دیگری نطق درخشان فتیوکوویچ وکیل مدافع دیمیتری . یا صحنه مواجه شدن ایوان با شیطان و احساس او قبل و بعد از مکالمه .
در مورد ترجمه فارسی کتاب ، بار اول که آن را خواندم با ترجمه جناب صالح حسینی بود که سخت خوان بودن کتاب در کنار ترجمه سنگین آقای حسینی باعث شد که خواندن کتاب را پس از 400 صفحه آن کنار بگذارم اما ترجمه پرویز شهدی علاوه بر ساده بودن و پرهیز عامدانه او در استفاده کردن از واژه های نامانوس و سنگین باعث شد که خواندن کتاب به تجربه ای شیرین و جذاب و پر کشش برایم تبدیل شود . گرچه برادران کارامازوف به هر صورت کتابی ایست سخت خوان که مطالعه آن اندکی صبر و حوصله و زمان و البته ذهن آزاد نیاز دارد .

تولستوی و داستایوسکی
تفاوت تولستوى با داستايوسكى، مثل تفاوت سعدى و حافظه.
شعرهاى سعدى، سهل و ممتنعه: يعنى از بس ساده و روان هستن، آدم فكر مى كنه سرودن همچين شعرى كارى نداره. ولى وقتى مى خواد مثلش رو بگه، مى بينه امكان نداره. تولستوى هم همين طوره.
شعرهاى حافظ، ولى يه جوريه كه آدم وقتى مى خونه، نه تنها فكرِ تحدّی هم به مخیّله ش خطور نمى كنه، بلكه حيران مى مونه كه يه انسان چطور تونسته همچين شعرى بگه؛ از بس الفاظ و معانى و مضامين عجيب و غريبى داره و پر از شيدايى و جنونه. داستايوسكى اين طوريه.

این کتاب
بهترین اثر داستایوسکی نیست به نظر من (به رغم عده ی زیادی). بهترین اثرش، جنایت و مکافاته و بعد، ابله. اما در رده ی سوم، این رمان مستطاب قرار میگیره و سومین اثر داستایوسکی بودن، یعنی بهترین اثر ادبیات بودن.

آلکسی قدّیس
هر کدوم از سه برادر، دنیایی شگرف و زیبا و گاهی وحشتناک دارن. اما اون کسی که من عمیقاً و از عمق جانم باهاش همذات پنداری کردم، آلیوشا، برادر کوچک تر بود.
چه اون زمان که مجذوب عوالم دین بود و از برادرانش گریزان بود، چه اون زمان که به ورطه ی سقوط افتاد و چه اون زمانی که به سجده افتاد و زمین خاکی رو بوسید و زندگی رو تقدیس کرد و به نوع جدیدی از عرفان رسید.
مشابه این شخصیت سالک رو، در هیچ رمان دیگه ای ندیدم و بعید میدونم ببینم. چرا، امثال "خرمگس" یا "سرگشته ی راه حق" هم شخصیت هایی مذهبی آفریدن، ولی در مقابل سلوک عظیم آلیوشا، اونا فقط بچه بازی هستن.

Fyodor Dostoevsky’s final novel, first published in serialization between 1879 and 1880 – Dostoevsky would die four months later) is a hot mess of deeply complex characterizations that made me think of Gabriel García Márquez’ brilliant One Hundred Years of Solitude. But whereas the Columbian book was vibrant and colorful and absurdist in an approachable way, the Russian novel is as many Russian novels: dark, psychologically unsettling, but with an understanding of human emotion and interconnectedness in group dynamics that is uncanny. The author also includes some, dry, subtle gallows humor.

Like his contemporary English writer Charles Dickens, Dostoeyevsky fills his lengthy narrative with a host of attention-grabbing characters. There is, of course, the eponymous brothers, sons of a licentious hedonist, the patriarch of a modest fortune in rural Russia in the 1800s. We also get to know a pair of beautiful temptresses and a nefarious valet straight out of a Shakespearean tragedy.

Fyodor Pavlovich, the father, is drawn to be a sensual and superficial man, hanging on to his fortune, and vying with his eldest son for the affections of sultry but shrewd Grushenka.

Dmitri Fyodorovich is the eldest son of Fyodor Pavlovich, from his first marriage and is the most like his ill-fated father. Interestingly, Dostoyevsky reveals in Dimitri a spiritual dynamic as he struggles with his own contemptible behavior while also being innocent of a heinous crime to which he is charged.

Ivan Fyodorovich is the middle son, from Fyodor Pavlovich’s second marriage, and is an aloof intellectual. Yet he also turns out to be the most emotionally unstable. His exchanges with Smerdyakov (his supposed illegitimate half-brother, son of Fyodor Pavlovich) are some of the most compelling in the novel, illuminating Dostoevsky’s complicated religious beliefs.

Many readers see Alexei Fyodorovich Karamazov ( Alyosha) as the protagonist because of his theological purity and goodness, but I saw Dmitri as the central character.

Agrafena Alexandrovna Svetlova (Grushenka) is my hands down favorite. Beautiful and alluring, she is also a savvy player who knows how to get what she wants.

Father Zosima, Alyosha's mentor plays an understated but crucial role in the narrative to reveal the spiritual duality of Russia, showing his disavowal of materialism and social respect for the minimalist esthetic and austerity of life as a monk.

Richly artistic and a literary monument, not just as a Russian novel, but high atop the world stage, this is a book that should be read at least once in a lifetime.

Una obra maestra, digna de su fama, pero...

En realidad 4,2

Este libro me hace enfrentar una lucha feroz y salvaje en mi interior. Una lucha entre ser despiadado, o ser comprensivo; entre ser destructivo, o ser amable; entre ser un Karamazov, o simplemente no serlo. Empiezo esta reseña con estas palabras porque sinceramente no ha sido fácil decidir el tipo de crítica que realizaría para esta ocasión. En un lado del ring, se encuentra el Steven despiadado y juzgador, que está esperando la oportunidad de pulverizar con sus palabras cualquier obra que lo haya dejado insatisfecho, o que no haya disfrutado plenamente; pero, en el otro lado del ring, se encuentra el Steven prudente y positivo, que con mucha calma sabe destacar lo bueno de cada obra y logra minimizar los detalles negativos de cada historia. Generalmente esos combates se resuelven fácilmente con un knockout, y descifrar el resultado es solo cuestión de minutos; pero, para esta ocasión el combate ha estado bastante reñido y mucho más difícil ha sido tomar una decisión.

Comencé a leer esta obra, no solo por la popularidad del autor, sino también porque varias obras de su autoría realmente me interesan, y quiero leerlas en el futuro. Mi primer, y único acercamiento a Dostoievski, había sido la lectura de un pequeño cuento llamado El sueño de un hombre ridículo —el cual recomiendo bastante—, en el cual finalicé completamente satisfecho por la manera como el autor ruso logró transmitir en menos de treinta páginas tantas observaciones y críticas sobre la vida en general. Con esta experiencia, entonces mi cerebro, basándose en su lógica tomó apresuradamente la siguiente conclusión: Si en un cuento de treinta páginas has quedado tan satisfecho, ¿te imaginas, Steven, la experiencia tan increíble que vivirás en ese libro de mil páginas? Entonces me decidí, busqué un espacio, comencé a leer y efectivamente me gustó mucho el libro. Fue una lectura con una prosa bastante destacada, que se me asemejó a la combinación entre Victor Hugo, por la forma como estructura su historia, y Gabriel García Márquez, por la duración que pueden llegar a tener algunos párrafos y la cantidad de temas diversos que se encuentran allí. Es una prosa —irónicamente— fácil de leer, pero que en mi opinión personal, ralentiza en exceso la velocidad a la que transcurren los hechos descritos en el libro. Para ser completamente honesto sentí que en las más de mil páginas no sucedieron tantas situaciones como esperaba, y también percibí que desde el inicio se reveló demasiado pronto el verdadero clímax del argumento. Desde los primeros capítulos es fácil detectar el problema principal que vivirán los protagonistas, con la única diferencia de que desconocemos la ruta que vivirán para llegar hasta allí, por lo que eso me decepcionó un poco. No me malinterpreten, no me ha parecido aburrido el argumento, solo que no creí que esa dinámica del principio fuera a perdurar para todas las páginas, quizás esperaba un secreto que más adelante me sorprendiera, quizás esperaba algo así, pero no sucedió. Hay ocasiones en las que un libro está bien escrito, el argumento principal también es interesante, pero en el que la velocidad y duración excesiva de algunas partes puede llegar a hacerte sentir que estás teniendo una lectura interminable. Los libros largos me encantan, tengo muy buenas experiencias con muchos de ellos, pero con estos mastodontes de papel me gusta sentir que cada página ha valido la pena, y con este libro no viví eso. Hubo partes muy interesantes, pero no todo el tiempo.

Ahora bien, eso no significa que el libro no valga la pena. El libro tiene todos los componentes de aquel libro clásico que te invita a reflexionar sobre cientos de detalles de la vida. ¿Qué está mal? ¿Qué está bien? ¿En qué debemos mejorar como sociedad? Dostoievski en esta obra te deja con la sensación de que, a pesar de que han pasado varios siglos y tenemos tanta diversidad de cultura con respecto a nuestros antepasados, seguimos enfrentando durísimas batallas donde la protagonista es la conciencia. La conciencia te puede ayudar a sentir paz, pero también te puede condenar de por vida, eso en caso de que nunca lleguemos a perdonarnos por nuestras malas acciones que no deseábamos hacer. El tema más importante de esta novela, en mi opinión, es la conciencia, y con cada uno de los personajes de este libro, podremos notar cómo batallan todos los días de su vida con ese silencioso «enemigo». ¿Realmente quiero hacer el bien, o simplemente quiero evitar hacer el mal? Igualmente encontramos mensajes importantes sobre la familia, respetar a los padres, el dinero, la avaricia, la capacidad de tomar decisiones, etc. Personalmente no todas sus palabras lograron sensibilizarme sobre los temas presentados, pero sí hubo varias que me tocaron el alma, me dejaron emotivo, y asimismo perturbado por lo presentado.

Una aclaración importante es que uno de sus protagonistas está cerca de la vida religiosa, por lo que en varias partes del libro el tema principal se centra en Dios, y en la religión. Para aquellos que no creen en Dios puede parecer algo molesto leer tantas páginas sobre el tema, y más porque se cuenta la historia de cómo un monje se volvió predicador, pero no es una situación que perduré tanto tiempo porque el tema principal del libro no es la religión, solo que el autor decide enfatizar demasiado en las creencias, cultura, pensamientos, etc., de cada uno de los personajes del libro –tanto principales, como secundarios- por lo que esta parte es necesaria para comprender al personaje cuasi principal de esta historia. Digo cuasi principal porque Dostoievski en sus primeras páginas afirma que lo es, pero en mi opinión los protagonistas son los tres hermanos Karamazov, no solo el menor, Aliosha, sino los tres. Asimismo, hay otra conversación sobre la religión entre un ateo y un religioso que también debemos leer con cuidado. Pienso que son partes que requieren leerse con comprensión, sin juzgar, y teniendo muy en cuenta que el objetivo del autor es exponer la mentalidad de cada personaje, y no cambiar nuestras creencias.

Sin lugar a dudas la mejor parte ha sido el final. Es la sección donde comprendes que cada historia de cada personaje sí valía la pena para algo, y que sin la debida exposición de estas mini-escenas seguramente este acto final no sería tan llamativo e interesante como lo es en verdad. Por un momento creí que no valdría la pena llegar hasta el final del libro, pero por esa sección sí valió resistir tantas y tantas horas de lectura que realicé por más de dos meses. Les juro que si esa parte hubiera sido mala, la batalla del ring que mencioné al comienzo de esta reseña habría quedado definida en menos de cinco segundos. Afortunadamente ha valido la pena llegar hasta el final, aunque si me preguntaran no volvería a leer este libro jamás. Hay miles de historias que me están esperando. Solo repetiría aquellas que me tocan el alma en la mayor parte de sus páginas, como es el caso de mi querido libro, La Historia Interminable.

Como ya se sobreentenderá por los párrafos pasados, los personajes han estado excelentemente desarrollados. No me ha parecido tan sencillo comprender a los rusos del siglo XIX, pero entre más fui avanzando más fui comprendiendo el modo karamazoviano como vivían los seres de aquella época. Principal, y naturalmente, los tres hermanos Karamazov fueron los de mejor desarrollo, aunque no por ello me inclino a elegir un personaje favorito de la obra. Todos tienen sus tonalidades de bondad y maldad, por lo que comprendo a los personajes, y comprendo sus acciones, pero no lograron inmortalizarse en mi memoria. Eso sí, si tuviera que elegir forzosamente un personaje a destacar, entonces no elegiría a ningún Karamazov, sino al abogado Fetiukóvich, que me sorprendió gratamente por su gran capacidad para presentar diferentes perspectivas de una misma situación; perspectivas que no habíamos ni remotamente tenido en cuenta.

Ya casi para terminar, debo también reconocer que he sufrido bastante con los nombres de los personajes. Siempre he creído que los nombres más difíciles de diferenciar son los que se encuentran en novelas asiáticas —especialmente chinas—, pero la verdad es que sufrí bastante con los nombres rusos. Todos los nombres se me parecían, no lograba ni siquiera memorizarlos y mucho menos pronunciarlos. Lo digo con todo el respeto posible, pero esos nombres para mí fueron como trabalenguas nivel imposible. Vuelvo y reitero, lo digo con todo el respeto posible. Sé que para aquellas personas nuestros nombres también son extraños. Si ofendo a alguien, no es mi intención hacerlo, en serio que lo siento mucho, solo expreso mi opinión.

Podría seguir escribiendo muchos detalles más, pero no quiero desvelar mucho de la trama, ni tampoco quiero realizar ningún tipo de spoiler. Como ya lo he mencionado en varias reseñas, los spoilers no deberían existir, matan la trama y te la friegan.

En resumen, Los hermanos Karamazov es una obra madura, que con la exposición de una familia tan peculiar, te intenta dar muchas lecciones sobre la vida en general; lecciones que pueden tocarte el alma, o bien, pueden no hacerlo, todo dependiendo de la conexión que sientas con la forma de pensar del autor. Por ejemplo, pueden parecerte las reflexiones sobre la sociedad, vanas y repetitivas, pero puedes conmoverte cuando te hablan sobre la familia, sobre la maldad del hombre en el pasado, etc. No es un libro que considere apto para todas las personas, ya que depende mucho del ritmo de lectura al cual tú estés acostumbrado, pero también debemos entender como lectores del siglo XXI, que la forma de escribir del siglo XIX y de nuestra actualidad es bastante diferente, y que no podemos esperar de un libro clásico de más de doscientos años la intensidad que encontramos en obras actuales que han sido diseñadas específicamente para ello. No es un clásico sencillo, lo reconozco, pero tampoco es imposible de leerlo. Solo es cuestión de tener paciencia, no tener expectativas, intentar conectarnos con la prosa de Dostoievski, y arriesgarnos a experimentarlo por nosotros mismos. Mi calificación de cuatro estrellas expresa claramente que este libro me ha parecido muy interesante, me atrevería a decir incluso que es una obra maestra, pero que honestamente no me conmocionó con la magnitud que esperaba, no con la magnitud como sí lo hizo un pequeño cuento de treinta páginas. En esta ocasión, la batalla del ring ha finalizado en empate.