Ein Meisterwerk und Meilenstein, insbesondere was die Hervorhebung der Psyche und die Auswirkung der Kindheitserlebnisse auf das Erwachsenenleben angeht. Vergleichbares habe ich bis zum Entstehungszeitpunkts dieses Werks in den 1860er Jahren noch nicht gelesen. Bewundernswert finde ich auch den tiefen Glauben, der in diesem Geschichte verwurzelt ist, wobei es nicht nur der christliche Glaube ist, sondern auch der Glaube an die Mutter Erde und das Väterchen Russland, der immer wieder in dem Ringen der Brüder Karamasow um Schuld und Sühne.

Es hätte ein bewegendes Leseerlebnis sein können, wenn Dostojewski für mich nicht so unangenehm geschwätzig und sich wiederholend wäre. Wenn er eine klar durchdachte Handlung und eine Konzeption der Geschichte hätte. Dostojewski bekommt für mich selten eine Atmosphäre hin, ständig habe ich das Gefühl, das Drama in Form eines Schauspiels zu lesen. Diese Mischung aus Familien-, Moral-, Liebes-, Kriminal-, Gerichtsverfahrengeschichte ist sehr dialoglastig. Die Menschen tragen ihre Herzen auf den Zungen, und ihre Herzen quellen über, und ihre Zungen sind groß. So schön, wie ein Theaterbesuch auch ist, eine 40-stündige Aufführung muss einfach ihre Längen haben. Gerade die Plädoyers von Staatsanwalt und Verteidiger im Vatermordprozess sind mitreißend und schon eine Analyse des Buchs im Buch selbst. Doch sie wollen nicht enden, bauen eine Vermutung nach der anderen auf und man sehnt sich nach der Glocke des Richters, der den Redenden endlich zum Kern seiner Aussage bringen möchte. Zudem finde ich die Frauenfiguren bei Dostojewski stets nervig, am Rande des Nervenzusammenbruchs und nie rational, sondern stets durch die Gefühle getrieben. Das liegt nicht an der Zeit, in der es entstanden ist. Andere Zeitgenossen Dostojewskis waren ja schon durchaus in der Lage komplexe und starke Frauen zu kreieren.

Die vier Brüder stehen alle für verschiedene Charaktereigenschaften, zudem sind die Nebenrollen auch meist Symbolfiguren für einen bestimmten Glauben, Denkweise oder Eigenschaft. Daher ist es mir sehr verständlich, dass dies unter psychologischen Aspekten Sigmund Freud als den besten Roman der Literaturgeschichte ansah. Nach meinem Empfinden leidet aber der Realismus an diesem Hang zur Symbolik.

Ich bin froh, dass ich es gelesen habe und trotz der Längen bis zum Ende durchhielt. In seiner Fülle von Themen ein überwältigendes Buch.

“The Brothers Karamazov” has intrigued me for years. I have always been aware of the fact that it is one of the greatest novels ever written so I know I have to read it eventually. Finally, after reading it, I think I get why this is considered great literature-- and though I can't exactly say that I loved it, I admit that I don’t regret reading it.

The plot revolves around the murder of perhaps one of the most despicable characters ever created, Fyodor Pavlovich Karamazov, the father of the Karamazov brothers. This detail about the book only skims the surface because this only serves as the basic architecture for Dostoevsky's philosophy. This novel isn't so much a story as: a lengthy dissertation on human nature; the issues of Dostoyevsky's day; detailed personality profiles; and digressions on every subject the author wanted to pursue, including free will, the existence of God, moral responsibility, and truth.

It's a high-minded novel full of weighty intellectual themes and Dostoevsky’s skill is unquestionable. “The Grand Inquisitor” is a supremely strange chapter , and one of the most unique things I’ve read in literature. The courtroom drama at the end of the novel, would be very hard to match in modern fiction.  In particular, the defense attorney’s closing argument is remarkable for its command of human psychology, as the hired gun from St. Petersburg shows that all the supposedly incriminating circumstances of the case can be understood.  
And of the family—what a family! Each figure in this household (?) embodies conflicting phases of the author’s great ideas: Fyodor Karamazov, the father, is a sensualist of the lowest type imaginable; Dmitri inherits his father’s passions but is tempered by periods of misgiving; Ivan is a materialist and a cynic. He changes his mind after a severe illness, and his materialistic belief is replaced by intense spiritual curiosity; Alyosha is an idealist, lovable and loving. Dostoevsky’s discordant elements are effectively conveyed in his human characterizations.

That said, “The Brothers Karamazov” still didn’t impress me as much as I expected it to. The story started out painfully slow. In my opinion, a great novel shouldn't require readers to force themselves to stay awake for more than 1/4 of the book in order to become acquainted with initially uninteresting characters. As with the rest of the book, there were many points where Dostoevsky seemed to descend into meaningless details that, to me, did nothing to advance the plot, atmosphere, or characterization.
I feel that the author is disconnected from his audience, and he doesn't seem to care. This comes to a point where I think Dostoevsky frequently loses himself in the meshes of his own word spinning. The book goes off too many tangents and is densely verbose.
I found pages of extraordinary depth and poignancy but they are few and far in between. I find it hard to connect with any of the characters since their personalities are diluted by the manic and morbidly intense verbal flow. Half the book was one of the Karamazovs talking on and on, uninterrupted to an audience as silent and passive as the reader. I frequently spaced out and have to backtrack. I eventually found myself reading this book in a grim desire to finish it and be done, rather than out of a sense of enjoyment.
I admired author's insights into human nature, but all too often, he seemed to make grand proclamations arbitrarily that have little evidence behind them. As if by declaring them with confidence he somehow made them true beyond question. And for whatever unaccountable reason, his preoccupations landed like a relic in my own life. My feelings can be aptly described by Rosewater’s words in Kurt Vonnegut’s “Slaughterhouse Five”:

“There is one other book, that can teach you everything you need to know about life... it's The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoyevsky, but that's not enough anymore.”

I still think it’s worth the read, and there is always something to be earned from reading the books of great authors who influenced other great authors. And besides, no matter what my opinion is, Ol’ Dusty is still going strong!

رنج چیست؟ از رنج نمیترسم، حتی اگر بی کران باشد، حالا از آن نمی‌ترسیم؛قبلا میترسیدم. می دانی، حالا به قدری قدرت در من هست که می توانم برهمه چیز غلبه کنم، برهمه ی رنج ها، فقط اینک بگویم وهر لحظه به خودم بگویم:من هستم، درميان هزارعذاب_من هستم‌؛ پیچ وتاب خوران_زیرشکنجه _اماهستم.
محبوس دربرجی،اماهنوز هستم. خورشید را می بینم واگر نبینم باز می دانم که هست وهمه ی زندگی اونجاست.

بااینکه کتاب پرحجم وسنگینه من از خوندنش لذت بردم برعکس جنایت و مکافات که هیچ ازش نفهمیدم وبعد از این کتاب شاید برم بقیه ی آثار داستایفسکی رو بخونم

Above all, avoid lies, all lies, especially the lie to yourself. Keep watch on your own lie and examine it every hour, every minute. And avoid contempt, both of others and of yourself: what seems bad to you in yourself is purified by the very fact that you have noticed it in yourself. And avoid fear, though fear is simply the consequence of every lie. (57)

t
Family. You cannot pick. You are either happy to be around them or you are stuck with them. You can choose your friends, a pet, you can choose between a blueberry muffin and a chocolate chip one, but you cannot choose your family. The combination of genetics and the social environment is simply fascinating. For example, take this ordinary Russian family. An ambitious, lascivious, ridiculous father who enjoyed alcohol in any form; a son who, at first, seemed to be the image of his father; a second son, vain and intellectual with even more questionable moral reactions; the youngest son with the kindness of a saint and the troubled soul of a common man and another weak, disturbing young man who never counted as a son. This book contains the story of every family in the world. Their struggles, their fears, their doubts, the decisions that reflect the highest and most degrading aspects of human nature.

“There is a force that will endure everything,” said Ivan, this time with a cold smirk.
“What force?”
“The Karamazov force ... the force of the Karamazov baseness.”
“To drown in depravity, to stifle your soul with corruption, is that it?” (210)

This book contains centuries of human history. It is a major treatise on philosophy and religion. And yes, there is a lot of religion here, but even me, a person who is struggling with a lack of faith and a deep ocean of doubts and fear, can still be interested and dazzled by all this. (Unless we are talking about the "monk book". There were a couple of good things but, in general, it was the only part of the book that made me want to take a really long nap. I must admit it, in the spirit of full disclosure. And my previous naive defense about how “even” me could be interested? Yes, forget it, I know I am haunted by uncertainty and, therefore, obsessed with knowledge, no matter how limited I can be.)

“Can it be that you really hold this conviction about the consequences of the exhaustion of men’s faith in the immortality of their souls?” the elder suddenly asked Ivan Fyodorovich.
“Yes, it was my contention. There is no virtue if there is no immortality.”
“You are blessed if you believe so, or else most unhappy!”
...
“Maybe you’re right... ! But still, I wasn't quite joking either ... ,” Ivan Fyodorovich suddenly and strangely confessed—by the way, with a quick blush.
“You weren't quite joking, that is true. This idea is not yet resolved in your heart and torments it. But a martyr, too, sometimes likes to toy with his despair, also from despair, as it were. For the time being you, too, are toying, out of despair, with your magazine articles and drawing-room discussions, without believing in your own dialectics and smirking at them with your heart aching inside you ... The question is not resolved in you, and there lies your great grief, for it urgently demands resolution...” (66)

A sharp observation written using such an exquisite language. You should become accustomed to that. Once you reach Book V, you will found yourself overwhelmed by the author's mesmerizing erudition.

If you're expecting an explosive plot with lots of things going on at the same time, weird twists and vampires, fights and dragons, magic and flying dogs, then this book is not for you. There is a plot, of course, but the excellence of this book lies on the writing. Dostoyevsky's trademark is his gifted ability to describe human nature using the most poignantly elegant prose known to man. His insightful points of view on almost every subject that affects all humanity are written with admirable lyricism and precision. Reading this particular writer can be rather demanding. You have to be prepared. You have to become habituated to the idea that your soul might absorb the despairing and sometimes playful beauty of his writing. And once that happens, you won't be able to forget him. Dostoyevsky has the power to defeat oblivion. He personifies an unwelcome light that illuminates every dark nook of our minds. He makes us think about what we like to see in ourselves and what we choose to hide.

Jealousy! “Othello is not jealous, he is trustful”... A truly jealous man is not like that. It is impossible to imagine all the shame and moral degradation a jealous man can tolerate without the least remorse. And it is not that they are all trite and dirty souls. On the contrary, it is possible to have a lofty heart, to love purely, to be full of self-sacrifice, and at the same time to hide under tables, to bribe the meanest people, and live with the nastiest filth of spying and eavesdropping... And one may ask what is the good of a love that must constantly be spied on, and what is the worth of a love that needs to be guarded so intensely? (293)

Besides briefly discussing the plot, I can only add I don't have favorite characters. They all annoyed me or disgusted me in the same contradictory way. But I do understand them, most of the times. I loved the dialogues—the amazing reflections while they are deciding to act against everything that is good; they know what they are about to do is wrong but they can't help it; it's in their blood—the profound remarks of our narrator and the fact that Dostoyevsky, one more time, allowed me to enter inside his characters' minds. He shares the complexity of all of them. And I'm enchanted by this man's ability to make everything beautiful, even while describing the darkest aspects of humanity, which leads me to another point.
I love reading other people's thoughts on the books I like. A certain opinion I read a while ago was about how Dostoyevsky seems to be a vicious misogynist because of the way he wrote about Smerdyakov's mother, “Stinking Lizaveta.” I try not to make out of every word written by the author, a reflection of the person he or she really is. Crime writers don't usually murder every human they find. Mystery writers don't always think that somebody's butler is up to something. In that sense, an author who writes about how a woman is mistreated by a certain part of society doesn't necessarily mean he's a vicious misogynist. He was being honest, he was displaying truth. Poor women and men were often treated like less than a human - that hasn't changed that much. Dostoyevsky described it too vividly.*

...people speak sometimes about the ‘animal’ cruelty of man, but that is terribly unjust and offensive to animals, no animal could ever be so cruel as a man, so artfully, so artistically cruel. (193)

In conclusion, as I said before, this book contains the history of the world. A deluge of misery and wisdom waiting for the reader. The way of representing the Russian soul is the way all souls should be represented; it transcends any geographical boundary, any limitation of time. We all have many sides of the Karamazovs' nature in us. We all have demons tormenting our good judgment. We all know what we should do and, sometimes, we simply can't do it. I can't justify everything but we are humans. I want to understand, I need to. We are susceptible to failure. To negligence. To vileness, dishonesty and many other abhorrent things. Once mistakes are made, only the most fortunate ones are able to find a path toward redemption. In this book, in this Russia which portrays the world of all times, some did. And some had to endure the bitter punishments that the choices in their lives have brought upon them.

‘I love mankind,’ he said, ‘but I am amazed at myself: the more I love mankind in general, the less I love people in particular, that is, individually, as separate persons... (56)

Too human. We all hear the sounds of a ravenous solitude echoing in the dark depths of our beings; they often make us act by instinct, forgetting that we have been blessed—or doomed—with reason. Moreover, they make us forget to feel love. And that, indeed, is a faithful depiction of what hell must feel like. A hell to which we will soon arrive by repeating to ourselves: n  everything is permittedn.




May 05, 14-Update June 17, 19
*Just another reader's opinion.
** Also on my blog.

‎دوستانِ گرانقدر، این رمان در نوعِ خود بینظیر است و مقایسهٔ این رمان با رمان هایِ دیگر، بنظرم نادرست است.. این کتاب، اثریست ناب و بی نظیر که همه چیز را در خود جای داده است و نمیتوان شبیه به آن را یافت.. نوشتهٔ داستایوفسکی، اثری فلسفی، روانشناسانه، جامعه شناسانه و هنرمندانه میباشد... یاد زنده یاد <داستایوفسکی> گرامی باد
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‎عزیزانم، داستان در موردِ زندگی پُر چالش و ماجراجویانهٔ پیرمردی ثروتمند به نامِ <فئودور کارامازوف> میباشد که فرزندانش <آلیوشا>، <ایوان> ، <دیمتری> و <اسمردیاکوف> با رفتار و اخلاقِ پدر مخالف هستند و هریک به شیوه ای با پدر مخالفت میکند... بنظرم، چیزی که این داستان را خواندنی میکند، تفاوت هایِ رفتاری و اعتقادی و اخلاقیِ این برادرها با یکدیگر میباشد... زنده یاد داستایوفسکی به نوعی مهمترین مواردِ اخلاقی در انسانها را بینِ این برادران، تقسیم کرده است.... و امکان دارد هر خواننده ای، اخلاق و روشِ زندگیِ یکی از برادرها را برتر از برادرانِ دیگر بداند و بتواند با آن شخصیتِ موردِ نظر تا پایانِ داستان، ارتباط برقرار کرده و همزاد پنداری کند
‎شخصیتی که بیش از سایرین، به چشم می آید، ایوان کاراموزوف است.. ایوان، انسانی خردگرا و تیزهوش است که به نوعی خویش را پایبندِ ذهنیتِ اقلیدسی میداند و شیفتهٔ اندیشهٔ ابعادِ سه گانهٔ اقلیدس میباشد.. شاید ایوان را در پایانِ داستان، دادگاهی و سرزنش کنیم، ولی از دیدگاهِ من، او هرچه میکند، بخاطرِ عشق به انسانیت است، درکل میتوان گفت که ایوان در اندیشهٔ رستگاریِ انسانهاست.. وقتی میبیند موجودی به نامِ خدا نمیتواند عدالت را بر رویِ زمین برپا کند، خود دست به کار میشود تا عدالت را اجرا کند... ایوان شخصیتِ دوست داشتی و خردمندِ این داستان است.. او خردگرایی را برمیگزیند و ایمان و موهوماتِ اینچنینی را پارادوکسال به شمار می آورد و آن را امیدی بیخردانه و کورکورانه میداند و دلش به حالِ کسانی میسوزد که خودشان را با واژهٔ موهومِ ایمان سرگرم کرده اند و واقعیتها را نمیبینند
‎اسمردیاکوف، پسرِ کاراموزوف است، ولی از مادری که کلفتِ خانه بوده، زاده شده است .. پس او برادرِ ناتنیِ بچه هاست که در خانه همچون نوکر با او برخورد میکنند و مادرش بخاطرِ رفتارِ بدی که کارامازوف با وی داشته، دق کرده و میمیرد.. این موضوع سبب میشود تا از اسمردیاکوف بزرگ، کینهٔ زیادی در دل داشته باشد و نیاز به جرقه ای دارد تا از او انتقام بگیرد
‎در میانِ برادران، الیوشا، در انزوا زندگی میکند و در کلیسا در حال راز و نیاز است، او قصد دارد تا پدر را از مرگ نجات داده و نگذارد تا برادرانش او را به قتل برسانند
‎و اما برادری دیگر، یعنی دیمیتری، جوانی شهوت ران که به عواقبِ رفتارش فکر نمیکند و حاضر است به خاطرِ دختری به نامِ <گروشنا> رقیبِ عشقیِ خویش یعنی پدرش را از سرِ راه بردارد
‎خلاصه آنکه پدر به قتل میرسد و شواهد نشان میدهد که دیمیتری این کار را کرده است و دادگاهی میشود، ولی حقیقت چیزِ دیگری میباشد..... بهتر است خودتان این داستانِ زیبا را بخوانید و از سرانجامِ آن آگاه شوید
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‎ایوان: هر شرارتی که در جهان به پا میخیزد، از بشر سر میزند... مردم گاه از بی رحمیِ حیوانی سخن میگویند که این خود توهین به حیوانات است.. یک حیوان نمیتواند به اندازهٔ انسان بی رحم باشد، یعنی هنرمندانه بی رحم باشد... ببر و پلنگ، فقط شکار میکنند و میدوند. ولی هیچگاه به فکرشان نمیرسد که آدم را توسطِ گوشهایش به میخ بکشند!!.. حتی اگر قادر به این کار بودند
‎این تورکها از شکنجه دادنِ کودکان بسیار لذت میبردند.. گاه جنینِ به دنیا نیامده را از رحمِ مادر بیرون می آوردند و آن را به هوا پرتاب میکردند و دوباره آن را با سرنیزهٔ خود میگرفتند و درست جلویِ چشمانِ مادرانشان این کار را انجام میدادند.. به خصوص جلویِ چشمِ مادران بود که مایهٔ لذت بسیار زیاد برایِ آنها میشد... فکر میکنم، اگر ابلیس وجود نداشت، انسان آن را به وجود می آورد و درست طبقِ تصویرِ خاصی که از خود دارد، ابلیس را میساخت
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‎ایوان: تنها چیزی که میدانم این است که در این جهان، رنج و عذاب بسیار زیاد است و هیچکس هم گناهکار نیست.. این را خوب میدانم و به همین دلیل است که نمیتوانم زندگی کنم. چه فایده ای دارد دانستنِ اینکه کسی گناهکار نیست و معلول از پیِ علت می آید!؟ .. من خواهانِ عدالت هستم، وگرنه خویش را نابود میکنم.. نه آن عدالتِ موهوم در روزِ حساب و قیامت.. نه آن عدالتی که در زمان و مکانی بینهایت دور به وجود بیاید.. عدالت باید در اینجا و رویِ زمین اجرا شود و من بتوانم آن را ببینم
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‎ایوان: کسی که کودکی را شکنجه میکند، باید تاوانِ اشکهایِ او را بدهد.. این رنج و محنتِ معصومانه را باید کسی جبران کند و کفاره اش را بپردازد، ولی این اتفاق نیافتاده است.. پس آن هماهنگیِ جاوید در ادیان یک دروغ است و وجود ندارد.. چگونه میخواهید رنج و ستمی که بر کودکان روا شده جبران کنید!؟؟ با سوختنِ ستمکار در جهنم؟؟؟ سوختنِ آنها چه ربطی به من دارد؟ اصلاً جهنمِ موهوم چه دردی را دوا میکند، وقتی آن کودکانِ معصوم چنین شکنجه هایی را تحمل میکنند؟ دیگر سوختنِ ستمکاران در جهنم چه فایده ای دارد!؟؟ حتی اگر جهنمی هم وجود داشته باشد

‎«« وای بر کسی که به کودکان آسیب میرساند »»
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‎امیدوارم این ریویو در جهتِ آشنایی با این کتابِ بینظیر، کافی و مفید بوده باشه
‎<پیروز باشید و ایرانی>

از "قمارباز" خوشم نیومده بود و از داستایفسکی ناامید شده بودم، ولی برعکس بعد از خوندن این کتاب تازه فهمیدم که چه قلم قدرتمندی داره این مرد!
توصیه می کنم بخونید این کتاب رو، بقدری غرق در کتاب میشید که اصلا حجم بالاش به چشم نمی یاد.

The dreamy bearded shrink called the author of The Brothers Karamazov a neurotic, repressed bisexual epileptic in a preface of which I understood one sentence out of three. The friend of Sartre and the plane trees (sorry) has, for his part (passenger), drawn from this 850-page monument the genesis of "The Rebel," the one who always says no. With its murder in mysterious circumstances, investigation, and dramatized trial, The Brothers Karamazov follows the plot of a detective novel. Fyodor Karamazov, the victim, did not steal his fate as a murder victim. A detestable being, he has fleeced and driven his two wives mad. He has not an ounce of affection for his three sons: Alyosha (or Alexis, depending on the page), the youngest, the saint of the novel who devotes his life to religion and spreading good around him; the youngest, Dimitri (Mitia for his friends), a romantic party animal, with a debt of affection and Ivan, a cultured elder who cultivates his nihilism. This legitimate offspring, completed by an envious and epileptic bastard with the name of a cousin, Smerdiakov, has every reason to hasten the succession. Dimitri does not hide his hatred for this older man who refuses him his share of the inheritance and who covets the chosen one of his ardent heart.
Suppose this novel is a monument of literature. In that case, it is because it brilliantly explores the existential questions of all its characters around Faith, Freedom, Evil, and Free Will (no, not the one that calls on VAR, my football friends).
Some passages, particularly the one devoted to Ivan's poem, "the Grand Inquisitor," are incandescent and flammable. I'll summarize it for you. That's the Faith resting on the freedom to believe without proof; the long-awaited resurrection of Christ occurs in Seville amid the Inquisition, barbecues of infidels, and planchas of fornicators. After a few miracles recycled from the gospels, the Grand Inquisitor decides to burn the former crucified (no wonder he keeps us waiting when you see how he is received!) with full knowledge of the facts so that he does not deprive man of doubt, hope and the possibility of choosing between good and evil. Without God, there are no more boundaries between good and evil. With Him, how can we forgive him our suffering and accept the justice of men? The absence is not always wrong.
The rest of the novel is a unique reading experience due to the richness of the characters and dialogue, which makes the narration near-perfect.
That's the last novel by Dostoyevsky, an author with whom one should not count one's hours; I only have to go back in his bibliography.
Unmissable.

Once a upon a time there were three brothers actually there aren't, but that's a spoiler, Dmitri, Ivan and Alexei, who went forth into the world each bearing a legacy from their parents. Along their way they each use the gifts they have to deal with the problems that lie in their path. First Dmitri, the eldest brother who is strong and powerful, falls by the wayside and then Ivan, the middle brother who is clever and educated falls by the wayside, but Alexei, little Alyosha, the youngest brother who is humble and faithful, finds a true path to live happily ever after.

The Brothers Karamazov was Dostoevesky's last work. Like all his major novels it was written and published in instalments in so-called 'thick' or 'fat' journals. Dostoevsky was an epileptic, while writing the novel section by section to a monthly deadline, he had severe fits which left him weak and stopped him from writing for months at a time. Shortly after completing the novel he died.

Once upon a time there were three brothers. The eldest brother, Dmitri, had been an army officer, his strength and exuberant vitality seem to represent a pagan, pre-Christian world. The middle brother Ivan, shows the cold, atheistic, rational learning of the Western world. Only the youngest brother, little Alyosha, portrays the simplicity and humility of the best of Russian Orthodox spirituality(from Doestoevsky's point of view), and it is this that answers the question posed by Gogol in Dead Souls when he asks where the galloping Troika is heading to.

Once upon a time I wrote out long hand in pencil and then typed with four and a half fingers an undergraduate dissertation on The Brothers Karamazov. My ambition was amusing because this is, well I don't want to frighten anybody away from reading it, but if you want to get under the surface of this book and start there is an awful lot to explore. At the same time though it is a relatively simple story. It's like a folktale, once upon a time there were three brothers who set out on a quest. The quest turns out to be about the nature and salvation of Russia, but don't let that put you off, social criticism lies at the heart of many a Dickens novel too but you don't have to be learned at law to enjoy Bleak House. Anyway the downside of having studied something like this a little is that you have a vague awareness, like the child who has picked up one pebble off the beach, of just how much you don't know and how much there potentially is to explore.

Once upon a time there were three brothers. One place to start is Vladimir Propp's Morphology of the Folktale. There's a type of Russian folktale with three brothers. The eldest is the strongest, the middle brother is the cleverest while the youngest is the most humble, straightforward and helpful. They each set off in turn on a journey. The strength of the eldest gets him into trouble, the middle one is brought down through his own cleverness, and so it's the youngest one who with humility, by being nice and winning friends who not only reaches the destination but saves his brothers. This is essentially what we get here, but in the 'realist' form of a nineteenth century novel.

Some types of stories are so ubiquitous or deep-rooted that it probably isn't possible to escape their influence, but if the folktale structure was a deliberate choice then really that only enhances the ways in which the story is about Russia, what Russia is about and what it's fate should be. Dostoevsky's story is set in a town modelled on Staraya Lagoda. Staraya Lagoda according to the oldest Russian chronicle was the town taken over by Rurik to be his capital when he and his Viking kin were 'invited in' to bring 'order' to the Russian lands. Rurik was one of three brothers. One of the roots of the Brothers Karamazov then is sunk deep into the origin myth of the country and its own sense of identity.

The question of what Russia is, an eastern or a western country, is of course a deeply stupid and meaningless question. Perhaps it is a tendency of profoundly ridiculous questions to get under the skin and trouble people in a particularly tenacious manner. The issue is a trope in nineteenth century Russian literature. Apart from the Gogol, one can think of Oblomov with his oriental gown contrasted with his old friend the 'German' Stolz (ie Pride), Westernisers and Slavophiles in Turgenev or the rejection of 'Western' agriculture in Anna Karenina and the triumphing of the instinctual 'Russianness' of Natasha in War and Peace. Here in addition to Dostoevsky showing how he dislikes the new western style court system with jury trials (pointedly convicting an innocent man) he shows the insufficiency of Dmitri and Ivan, model western military man and western intellectual respectively. Instead we see the success of Alexei, who begins the novel in a monastery intending to become an Orthodox monk.

If Dostoevsky was just a nationalistic author he wouldn't be so interesting to non-Russian patriots, he is also a writer concerned with everything to do with spiritual life. Alexei is not just a monk but is devoted to the starets (or Elder) Father Zosima. This was an informal position in Orthodox monasticism that re-emerged in the nineteenth century. The starets was a charismatic figure, in a monastery, but outside the formal hierarchy, believed to have a special, personal relationship with the divine, possibly having miraculous powers as a result - we see a fair bit of this in the novel. (It was a Starets that Tolstoy went to see when he ran away from home at the age of 82). The practise was a throwback to late medieval Byzantine monasticism.

Another throwback to the Byzantine religious world is the holy fool. An idea typified by Saint Andrew of Constantinople, who was your scabrous, beaten and broken down, homeless, unwashed, stank so bad that even the dogs wouldn't go near him type of a holy man. However just as Emily loved Bagpuss so too did God and his Mum love Saint Andrew giving him a vision of the Virgin Mary protecting Constantinople with her veil and saving it from conquest in the year 911. I'll digress a little further, the figure of the Holy Fool was popular in Russia, one of my lecturers at university ran into one in the church in the artist's village that Soviet Union had outside Moscow this was probably in the 80s. The Holy Fool was famed for speaking truth to power. There is a moment in Mussorgsky's opera Boris Godunov when the eponymous Tsar asks a Holy Fool to pray for him only to be told "Bugger off you child murdering Tyrant, I can't pray for you, what kind of fool do you take me for!", actually he doesn't sing that he sings Nel'zia, Boris, nel'zia ("Impossible, Boris, impossible"). My longer version is just implied, honest...if you are extremely unorthodox in your translation.

Well the relevance of all this is that mother of Ivan and Alexei is meant to be something of this type and the tendency towards an extreme self-abasing humility runs strong in Alexei. The point of the holy foolishness and the Starets is that it is non-institutional, based on a personal relationship to the Divine and is free to oppose and run counter to Earthly law, order and expectations. This is a complicating element in Dostoevsky. Yes he is ultra conservative, hyper-nationalistic and thoroughly Orthodox, but he is also happy to reject the given political and social order. There is a spirit, not quite revolutionary, maybe not radical but ready at any moment to throw over the apple cart in a moment of carnival - and here, I best mention it, that if you are going to study Dostoevsky then Mikhail Bakhtin is inescapable, (a modern work of secondary literature on Dostoevsky that doesn't mention Bakhtin in its bibliography is probably not worth reading).

Another root of the The Brothers Karamazov is Schiller's Die Räuber. Father Karamazov is particularly taken by the parallels between himself, Dmitri, Ivan and the Old Moor and his sons in the Schiller play. Once upon a time there were two brothers, Dostoevsky by adding a third son and then a fourth was translating the dynamic of ideas in the earlier play into the cultural context of later nineteenth century Russia. Cold Rationality and the honour culture receive the addition of an Orthodox spirituality that stands outside of conventional authority, but also a particular, diseased take on rationalism that pushes it to a destructive conclusion. The novel then is a laboratory of ideas. Three concepts are taken and stress tested until only one is left standing, offering a hope of salvation, possibly only personal but maybe a salvation that is available to a broader community of the faithful.

Admittedly the salvation on offer is probably not available to the unorthodox, but one has to accept the integrity of the author's world vision, in just the same way that you have to accept that one must become an American, at least in spirit, to be eligible for the American dream. The fun for me as a non-Orthodox, non-Russian reader is the power and skill of the writing not the message. Dickens presents Australia as the only conceivable chance to achieve a reasonable life for Mr Micawber and family, but I don't toss David Copperfield aside for trumpeting colonialism as the answer to Britain's own social problems (actually, that is really pessimistic now I come to think of it, particularly in those grim days before the invention of factor 50 sun block). Authors, even great ones, are allowed to be just as flawed and limited in their outlooks and thinking as the rest of us.

The business of salvation is summed up in Grushenka's story about a miserly old woman whose one good act was to give a half rotten onion to a beggar. As it turns out the onion wasn't strong enough to save her but in principle salvation doesn't require saintly levels of virtue, or rather the level required is calibrated to the individual. The story seems to be an inversion of a tale that Dostoevsky tells in Notes from the House of the Dead. During his imprisonment in Siberia Dosteovesky heard tell of Robber captain who asks one of his men what he managed to steal one day:

Well, says the robber, a peasant came by but all he had on him was an onion, so I let him go. Fool! Said his captain. You should have killed him and taken the onion. Once you had two onions you could have sold them for a penny down the market.

Salvation and damnation in Dostoevsky can be triggered by the simplest kindness or brutality.

I've said this is also a simple book, albeit one with a lot going on under the surface if you want to look for that. So, once upon a time there were three brothers. Dmitri in particular has a tumultuous relationship with their old and really pretty unpleasant father. The father is murdered and it appears blatantly obvious that Dmitri was the murderer. He is arrested and put on trial. In the meantime Ivan has a series of conversations including one in which he tells Alyosha his story of the Grand Inquisitor, (a charming tale of God, man, sin, order, truth, meaning and divine love) which culminate in his mental breakdown. With two brothers down it is up to Alexei to save the day by being simple and holy.

There is a film version of The Brothers Karamazov starring Yul Brynner as Dmitri. I've never seen it. However I've read the novel at least three times. The first time my sympathies were with Alexei, but I was young then. The second time I identified more with the rational spirit of Ivan. When it came round to my third reading I realised that I was deeply in tune with Dmitri. If you've read it yourself you can guess why I might be reluctant to read it a fourth time. My sense of association with Dmitri leaves me unhappy and dissatisfied with elements of the ending of the novel, but this is counter balanced by knowing that I am not too in thrall to Dostoevsky's world view.

It has been said, I can't remember by who, that Dostoevsky was always rewriting the same novel. The same types of characters and relationships recur. The Underground Man is a prototype Ivan, the Idiot something of an Alyosha. The Dmitri - Grushenka relationship of damaged people stuck in a dynamic of hurting each other is replayed often enough and seems to echo Doestoevsky's relationship with Apollinaria Suslova. The Brothers Karamazov is not perhaps the best starting point for reading Dostoevsky. Crime and Punishment is probably more accessible, if more intense. If that is too long then perhaps the short story The Dream of a Ridiculous Man will do the trick.

Once upon a time there were three brothers. It is a common experience reading the Brothers Karamazov to feel a particular closeness to one of the brothers. When I first read it I felt closest to Alexei. Later, I found Ivan was more compelling. Now I know I am in direct relationship to Dmitri and I suspect that one day I'll wake up as Fyodor Karamazov, capable of being the father of all of them however disparate their characters seem. The apple doesn't fall so far from the tree.

Ask me what book has now transformed my thought about what literature can do and I will name this book. Ask me about a book whose characters I will reference for years—not because they were so relatable or lovable but because they were replacements of philosophical thought—and I will name Alyosha, Ivan, and Mitya. Ask me about an author whose works I won’t mind reading and rereading, and I will name Fyodor Dostoevsky.

To think, before reading this, I didn’t even know how to properly pronounce the author’s name. First thing I did was look up the proper pronunciation. Now it slides off my tongue: duh-stuh-yef-skyee.

When I started my personal challenge to read more Russian literature, I had no idea that I would discover the language and nuance that I have. I had no idea that I would even like a Dostoevsky piece. But thanks to my Goodreads friends who started the Fyodor Dostoevsky Group, I’ve become acclimated to the wordy intricacy of the Dostoevsky novel. I can earnestly say that after a couple months of courtship, where I had to get familiar with the storytelling structure and the interchangeable names of characters (by the way I learned that the middle names are patronymics, derived from the first names of the father, like Alexey Fyodorovitch Karamazov), I can now say that I am in love and on a nickname basis.

Three brothers, n  The Brothers Karamazov,n each standing in for the profoundness that is the human condition: one representing the reckless way of living and thinking; another, selfishness and intellectual arrogance; and the third, timidity and religious belief. At the novel’s core is a contemptuous father, the absence of motherhood, and brothers who travel different courses in life, only to reunite as adults. There is love, betrayal, poverty, riches, death, murder, shame, good, bad, evil—you name it, the things we seek in novels because we come across them in life.

Yet narrowing things down a bit in this multi-layered novel, I would say that it is about belief and loyalty: after harsh childhoods, do these brothers believe in themselves; do they believe each other; do they believe in something greater than themselves?

n  Fragments of thoughts floated through his soul, flashed like stars and went out again at once, to be succeeded by others. But yet there was reigning in his soul a sense of the wholeness of things—something steadfast and comforting.n

There is one other book which has philosophically penetrated me like this one has: The Bible. When I was a little girl I lived in a wartime shelter and foster home of a church in Liberia, separated from my parents. I loved reading but there were not a lot of books because they were either burned or left behind as people ran for their lives. But there were Bibles everywhere. So I turned to the great storytelling of the Bible: Jacob and Esau, the brothers at war with each other; the story of Joseph and the striped cloak and how he was sold into slavery by his own brothers, and more. To date, I still think The Bible has the most beautiful stories and poetry (i.e.: The Book of Psalms). Reading The Brothers Karamazov, I was again reminded of those stories of brotherhood and betrayal and their underlying themes and lessons.

It is hard to believe that Dostoevsky was said to have been an atheist at some point, having endured some personal struggle with belief and nonbelief, especially since there are moments in his novel when he adds the type of posturing (n  “Deep calls to deep” n and n  “If I forget thee Jerusalemn…)” whose true meanings are only gathered from knowledge of biblical text. Yet his characters deal with this same struggle with moral and religious belief and this makes for an alluring read.

But just like the psychoanalysis of Greek tragedy (think Oedipus Rex) this is not a novel about someone or some belief being triumphant over the other, for it is about the passionate struggle that each character endures and their individual transformations in the end.

n  You are a lie, you are my illness, you are a phantom. It’s only that I don’t know how to destroy you and I see I must suffer for a time. You are my hallucination. You are the incarnation of myself, but only of one side of me…of my thoughts and feelings, but only the nastiest and stupidest of them.n

Rating this book is sort of ridiculous. It stands by itself as one of the greatest books of the western canon. Set in a small city somewhere in czarist Russia in the mid-19th century, Dostoevsky uses the Karamazov family to wrestle with the nature of good and evil, passion and love, faith and doubt, religion and atheism, intellect and kindness.

Whether you can get through the 800 pages depends on your appetite for classic Russian sensibility, and I can understand that not everyone will be able to. But in a weird, wonderful, clever, fun, engaging and deeply moving story, no matter if we believe in God, Satan, socialism, humanism or anything else, Fyodor urges us that while we live we should try to be good, love, be kind, reach out to those around us and make connections. Soon enough we’ll be gone.

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.

I don’t know how to explain what I just read but let me tell you, it was a JOURNEY. Incredible.