n  n

ها وقد انتهت حكاية آل كارمازوف
لماذا انتهت؟ لماذا لا يوجد لها جزء رابع وخامس.. وخمسين؟
كيف تعيش مع أشخاص أكثر من 1500 صفحة، ثم تنتهي هكذا بغتة
أنت لم تعش معهم، فكثير من الناس تعاشرهم ويعاشرونك دون أن تفهمهم أو يفهموك
ماذا عن كل فرد في تلك القصة
أنت تغوص في أعماق أعماقهم، تفهم دوافعهم النفسية، تصرفاتهم الخرقاء وربما الدنيئة، حتى أنك تتطلع على أحاديثهم مع أنفسهم
وتصبح متعلقًا بهم وبمصيرهم، ثم وها تنتهي الصفحات فجأة!
تقول رندة بطلة أعراس آمنة: واحد مثل غسّان، يجب أن يسمحوا له أن يكتب رواية واحدة على الأقل بعد الموت
ودوستويفسكي أيضًا عزيزتي
يجب أن يسمحوا له بكتابة رواية أخرى على الأقل، مجلد آخر، جزء آخر من حياة هؤلاء الكارامازوف!

الجزء الثالث والأخير من الرواية هو الجزء الأكثر إنسانية من بين الأجزاء كلها
هنا وبمنتهي الذكاء يقوم دوستويفسكي بتحليل سيكولوجي عبقري لكل تصرف، ولأقل حركة، ولأدني هفوة صدرت عن أبطاله في الجزئين السابقين
هنا في هذا الجزء طرح فرضيات لما يمكن أن يكون عليه تفسير سلوك الأبطال من وجهات نظر مختلفة
الأولى تتمثل في وجهة نظر وكيل النيابة، والأخرى وجهة نظر المحامي والدفاع

حقًا النفس البشرية هي من أعقد المخلوقات وأكثرها تشعبًا
هناك تصرفات تنبع من الفرد دون أن ينتبه لها أو يقصد شيئًا ما من وراءها
تصرفات حمقاء سخيفة لا تشكل أي قيمة
لكن حين تكون بحظ عاثر مثل دمتري كارامازوف فإن هذه التصرفاات التافهة ستجتمع معًا لتطيح بحياتك ومستقبلك!
العلم النفسي والسلوك من أصعب العلوم، أنت لا تستطيع فهمها وبناء منهج خاص بها
فكلها قائمة على التخمينات
فكيف لك أن تضع لها منهج محدد لدراستها وتدريسها
هي حقًا كما قال دوستويفسكي:
السيكولوجيا سلاح ذو حدين
وبرهن على أنه سلوك واحد من شخص ما، يمكن أن يحلله الشخص-وبدلائل مقنعة- على أساس معين ويستنتج منه نتائج محددة تتوافق ووجهة نظره الخاصة بالطبع
ويقوم آخر يحمل وجهة نظر مخالفة تمامًا لوجهة النظر الأولي، فيحلل السلوك ويستخلص منه نتائج تتوافق مع وجهة نظره أيضًا
بل وبدلائل منطقية مقنعة أخرى!!
حقًا إنها سلاح ذو حدين
لا تحتاج علماء ولا دارسين لوضع نظريات أغلبها مبنيّ على التخمين والتجارب والظواهر
هي فقط تحتاج لشخص كشخص دوستويفسكي
اجتمع الحزن والألم والمعاناة معًا، ليعطوه قلب حساس يشعر بمعاناة الأخرين ويغوص في داخلهم
والأذكي، تلك القدرة في التعبير عنهم بعطف رغم كل ما قد يقترفوه من أفعال بشعة
أنت مع الشخوص التي يخلقها دوستويفسكي، لا تستطيع أن تدين أيًا منهم

n  n

أعتقد أنه حينما قال هذه الجملة، إنما كان يصف نفسه
إلى لقاء آخر أيها العزيز دوستويفسكي
عزائي الوحيد أن هنا الكثير من المجلدات التي خلقت بها المزيد من الحيوات لشخوص أعتقد أن معاناتها لن تقل عن معاناة آل كارامازوف

لا تخافوا الحياة، ما أجمل الحياة حين يحقق المرء في هذا العالم شيئًا من خير وعدل

تمّت

Still processing…

Written by Fyodor Dostoevsky and translated by David McDuff (at least my copy was), The Brothers Karamazov is one of the best books that I have read. Set in Russia a few years after the abolishment of serfdom, this book is a piece of realist philosophy in the guise of literature. Its main themes include theological apologetics, alongside critiques of psychological determinism. Such issues are allegorically intertwined with the complicated and ultimately murderous relationship between Fyodor Karamazov and his three sons--Alyosha, Ivan, Dimitri--and perhaps a fourth son--Pavel Smerdyakov.

Dostoevsky delimits that having faith in God and an afterlife, one will lead a morally fulfilled and law-abiding existence because fearing God's retribution ensures compliance with social and legal codes. Conversely, lacking faith leads to lawlessness and nihilism since "everything is permitted." I disagree. One can be an atheist and not be a nihilist, as evinced by philosophies like existentialism and absurdism. Furthermore, actions stemming from fear or expectancy of reward are, in my opinion, morally dubious. One could alternatively follow humanism, which promotes leading an ethical life for the sake of improving the happiness of oneself and society.

Dostoevsky argues that people are overburdened by free will. It enables freedom to sin and leads to existential questioning that undermines ones sanity. Instead, one would obtain greater freedom by embracing the bosom of God, which relieves one of these encumbrances. I again disagree. Constant questioning of extant paradigms is an essential part of the human condition. Moreover, I question the sanity of embracing a totalitarian ideology that has done much to limit human progress in science, philosophy, and society because such actions are perceived as blasphemous or sinful. Despite my disagreements, however, this book remains intellectually rigorous and is exhilarating to read.

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.

ادغام درد و شعف، همچون یک غش صرع :

در میان انبوهی از تفسیرها، نقدها و ستایش‌هایی که از میان بزرگان جهان به این اثر ازلیِ شکاک اعظم وارد شده، دیگر دل و دماغی برای نوشتن از آن باقی نمی‌ماند. گفتنی ها را، بهترین‌ها پیش از این گفته‌اند.
پس عجالتا از همان صحبت‌های همیشگی درباره شک و ایمان، وجود خدا، الحاد، انگیزه‌های پدرکشی، راه‌های رستگاری، ماحصل رنج و تاثیر زندگی شخصی نویسنده بر آثارش و بخصوص این یکی، می‌گذرم. سعی می‌کنم از حاشیه‌های برخوردم با این ابر اثر بنویسم. از شخصی‌ترین برخوردها.
مثل هر پسر بچه‌ای که تازه کله‌ش بوی قرمه سبزی گرفته و پی این است که التهابات مغزش را که بخاطر سوال‌هایش ورم کرده را با کتاب آرام کند، داستایفسکی بسیار زود کشف شد و بسیار دیر خوانده شد.
معلم انشایی داشتم که مشوق اولی و اصلی من برای کتاب خواندنم بود. کرد بود و با صورتی شش تیغ و سبیل کلفت سفید اما مرتب که صدای بم و ته لهجه‌ی کردی‌اش، صلابت و نفوذی داشت که هر کلامی که خطاب به من بود برایم تاثیر زیادی داشت. خوشبخت بودم که همیشه از آن آدم تعریف شنیدم وگرنه نمیدانم اگر حرف تند یا مخربی به من زده بود چطور با آن کنار می‌آمدم. عادت داشتم همیشه آخر زنگ انشا بروم پیشش و یک ربعی درباره مطالبی که اخیرا نوشتم یا کتاب‌هایی که خواندم با او صحبت کنم.
هر انشا یا داستان یا هرچیز دیگری که می‌نوشتم در واقع به نوعی کلنجار ذهنم بود با آخرین کتاب یا کتاب‌هایی که خوانده بودم به علاوه‌ی تجربیات اخیرم، در نتیجه برای او بسیار جالب می‌آمد. همیشه می‌گفت آخرین چیزی که نوشتی را بیاور، می‌برم خانه می‌خوانم و برایت می‌آورم.
می‌برد خانه و می‌خواند اما نمی‌آورد. این برایم حتی لذت‌بخش‌تر بود. هر کتابی که می‌خواندم تشویق او را به همراه داشت تا اینکه یکبار دیگر با اطمینان تشویقم نکرد و تا حدی شوکه شد. روزی بود که حین گپ و گفت به او گفتم می‌خواهم ابله داستایفسکی را بخوانم. چیزی نگفت. فهمیدم که بایستی مراقب این یکی باشم.
از آن پس هر کتابی که میخواندم، در واقع پیش درآمدی بود برای کتاب‌های داستایفسکی. یا حداقل شاهکارهای او. همیشه بی‌پروا سراغ سخت‌ترین ها می‌رفتم و اتفاقا تبدیل به نویسنده‌های محبوبم می‌شدند؛ فاکنر، وولف، جویس، ساباتو، رولفو و ... اما داستایفسکی همیشه عجزی غریب همراهش بود. دویست جلد کتاب خوانده بودم که تازه جرئت کردم یادداشت‌های زیرزمینی را بخوانم. صد و خورده‌ای جلد دیگر خواندم تا آماده شوم جنایت و مکافات را بخوانم. خیزی که برای ابله برداشته بودم هم همین حدود لازمه‌اش بود. و الان هم که برادران کارامازوف ( طبعا می‌بایست قبل از برادران کارامازوف ، شیاطین را می‌خواندم اما از آنجایی که بنا بر خوانده‌ها و شنیده‌هایم آن کتاب هر آن چیزی که از ادبیات می‌خواهم را یکجا دارد، آن را کنار گذاشتم برای کویرترین روزهای زندگی‌ام به لحاظ حظ ادبی و کتاب‌خوانی ).
جنایت و مکافات را چهار روزه خواندم. اولین هفته‌ای بود که بخاطر کرونا دانشگاه تعطیل شده بود و فکر می‌کردیم از هفته‌ی بعدش دوباره برمیگردیم سر کلاس. زمان محدودمان اقتضا می‌کرد که بیشترین کار را در کمترین زمان انجام بدهیم و من در آن یک هفته سه شاهکار مدام منتظر فرصت را خواندم. ابله را نه روزه خواندم، آن هم بنا بر شرایط مجبور بودم تقریبا زود بخوانم. برادران کارامازوف جلد اول حدود یک ماه طول کشید و خواندن جلد دوم حدود دو ماه و فاصله بین خواندنشان هم حدود هفت ماه. به بیانی این کتاب را اول مرداد شروع و اوایل اردیبهشت تمام کردم. این هم بنا به شرایط آنقدر طول کشید.
به نحوه خواندن این کتاب‌ها که نگاه می‌کنم می‌بینم که هرچند زمان و شرایط حکم کردند که همگی آن‌ها زودتر از معمول یا بسیار دیرتر از معمول به سرانجام برسند اما وجه مشترکشان این بود که مهم نبود چند روزه خوانده شوند، همگی آثار داستایفسکی تازه بعد از خوانده شدن در ذهنم شروع می‌شدند. ( ولی در نهایت توصیه می‌کنم که اگر امکانش را دارید، اصولی‌تر از من بخوانید ).
برادران کارامازوف، ملغمه‌ای از شخصیت‌ها و عقایدی است که همه‌ی آن‌ها نشانگر بخشی از کاراکتر داستایفسکی است. چیزی که من برایم بیشتر ملموس می‌آمد، تقلاها و چالش‌های نویسنده‌ای بود که سعی می‌کرد با بسط دادن داستانش، خودش را برای خودش شفاف کند.
نوری بیلگه جیلان، فیلمساز درجه اول ترک که به گفته‌ی خودش بیش از فیلمسازان بزرگ، متاثر از چخوف و داستایفسکی است، در مصاحبه‌ای به نکته بسیار شفاف کننده‌ای اشاره می‌کند. او می‌گوید داستایفسکی با ایمان نیست بلکه تمام عمرش تقلا که به ایمان برسد. و این در تک تک آثارش مشهود است. هرچند که شخصیت با ایمان آلیوشا را در برادران کارامازوف ، با داستایفسکی متاخر مقایسه می‌کنند و می‌گویند که هر یک از برادران نمایانگر دوره‌ای از زندگی داستایفسکی است که البته بی‌راه هم نیست اما من کماکان به شک بنیادینی که تا آخر راه یقه‌ی او را ول نکرد، اعتقاد بیشتری دارم. تنها چیزی که ظاهراً تا آخر عمر بدان معتقد ماند، البته شاید حتی این یکی هم صرفا تلقینی مکرر بود که به خود بقبولاند به آن اعتقاد دارد، رستگاری زاده رنج بود که تفسیر و تشریح آن بماند بر عهده مفسرین و برداشت های شخصی مخاطبان این اثر چرا اینجا نه جای مناسبی برای این کار است و نه من آنقدر فاضل که جرئت پرداخت به آن را داشته باشم.
هر خرده روایت این کتاب هم کلاس درسی است چه برسد به پلات‌های اصلی داستان. به وضوح می‌بینم که فیلمسازان بزرگ یا نویسنده‌های بزرگ با یک ادای دین کوچک و یا اقتباس از بخش کوچکی از این کتاب، چگونه به اثر خود اعتبار می‌دهند و چگونه بخش زیادی از جهان‌بینی خود را با وصف بخش بسیار کوچکی از این کتاب به رخ می‌کشند پس چیزی کمتر از ارجاع مدام مخاطبان جدی تفکر به این کتاب، روا نیست.
اثری که ممکن است هر روز در شما زنده شود، شما را بیازارد و در تعلیق‌های ابدی نگه دارد اما از شما انسان بهتری بسازد.
شاید مصداق همان آیه از انجیل یوحنا، که داستایفسکی به مثابه چکیده وجودش بر سر در این کتاب حک کرده :

اگر دانه نمیرد، تنها ماند اما اگر بمیرد ثمر بسیار آورد.


در باب ترجمه : اصولاً باید شخصی مسلط به زبان روسی، نتیجه‌ی ترجمه‌ها را بررسی می‌کرد ولی با تقلیل به اکتفا کردن صرفا بر مبنای فارسیِ ترجمه، ترجمه‌ی استاد رستگار یک سر و گردن بالاتر از ترجمه‌ی آقایان صالح حسینی، احد علیقلیان و پرویز شهدی بود که من کمابیش تطبیق دادم.
جدای از لحن اثر، تسلط و تحقیق‌های مفصل آقای رستگار در باب عهد عتیق و جدید، برای انتقال بهتر حال و هوای داستایفسکی مزید بر علت است. بنابراین این پیشنهاد می‌کنم مادامی که ترجمه‌ی مستقیم و خوبی از روسی وجود ندارد، این کتاب و ترجمه‌ش را غنیمت بدانید.

اردیبهشت هزار و چهارصد و سه

Note: This review was written on Nov 18th 2007, a week after my twenty-first birthday. Excuse the youthful clumsiness of my style.

Matters of Life and Death

Often I used stop people in the streets, shake them frantically on the shoulders and slap them on the face, shouting again and again: “Is there a God? Is there a God? For God’s sake, just tell me if there’s a God!”

You would be surprised at the results I gathered from this. One or two of them confirmed that there is indeed a God, and that his name is Jack Daniels, whereas the others fought me off and beat me to a pulp (which I interpreted as an emphatic no). This marked the beginning of my long period of agnosticism. I was fed up of the bruises, quite frankly.

In The Brothers Karamazov, one of thee Great Russian novels, I found characters who shared my plight. For within this Herculean tome, I found discourses in which the author wrestles with notions of the hereafter, the supposed everlastingness of God, and the point of it all. It tackles the most impossible philosophical arguments that will visit each and every mortal on this earth at some stage, and offers the most incredible arguments for them all, proving universal to all types of being on this earth. All in a succinct and accessible 974 pages of literary delight.

Historical Facts

Fyodor Dostoevsky wrote this book at a time when he had been lionised in Russia as one of the most important writers in the motherland. Not necessarily from a critical standpoint—his books were still unpopular among the status quo—but within the academic and greater reading public, he was tantamount to an emperor. He should have been a megastar within his lifetime, in this reviewer’s opinion, but no one was ever going to warm to an author as uncompromising and academically volatile as he was. Except perhaps his stenographer.

In 1880, after this (his final book) was released, he made a speech to mark the erection of a monument to Aleksander Pushkin, celebrating a milestone in the progression of Russian literature. One year later, he passed on at the solid age of 60, leaving a canon of work more sensational than one-hundred free trips to Glasgow’s Water World. His swansong novel was quite a note to bow out on. An often quoted but scarcely read masterwork, it made the biggest impact of all his novels on the world at large, and pushed him into the echelons of literary immortality with 19th century contemporaries Dickens, Balzac and Tolstoy.

On top of this, Sigmund Freud was his biggest fan. Not bad, eh? That nefarious little wench Susan Sontag also likes him. Which is less impressive in comparison.

Themes & Plot

For those unfamiliar with this work, it is an accessible and none too unmanageable text to read. The conceit is that the Karamazov brothers, Dmitri, Ivan and Alyosha are all to some extent dependent on their grudging old scrote of a father in the small village of Skotoprigonyevsk. These three brothers are used to symbolise the tripartite nature of man: body, mind and spirit. Each also harbour opposing teleological views which puts them at odds with one another throughout the entire duration of the text. When Dmitri, a hedonistic wastrel (representing sensual pleasures of the body) asks his father for three-thousand roubles with which to support himself, he is refused and is unable to find another benefactor. Here we have the setup.

What transpires is a murder mystery yarn, the crux of the plot to the novel, where Dmitri is incorrectly arrested for the murder of his father following a dark night of carousing. The action in The Brothers Karamazov takes place over four days, and is centred (for the most part) around the interactions of these brothers and additional characters, most of whom sink to various levels of despair, confusion, helplessness and sorrow over the course of this short time. The continual themes of deceit, abandonment, torture and suffering are never far from the narrative, and the dialogue is very much in the melodramatic tradition of the era.

Central to this basic narrative are the discourses around God and the Devil, whose presences cast a continual shadow over the narrative. In this desolate and rather awful village in North Russia, the characters wander through their miserable lives with uncertainty, seeking examples of God’s existence and to prove their individual theories of life just so they can understand the absurdity of the world around them. It is a place of petty tortures and brutal co-dependence, where the follies of man are shown for what the stupidities they are, and the sad desperation of life is rendered almost transcendent.

Characters

One suspects, given Dostoevsky’s own faith, that he intended Alyosha (the spiritual and naive brother) to be the real centre of this piece. It was easier for me to empathise more with this character, one of the few gracious, forgiving and angelic presences in the novel, and without his voice the book would lack a hopeful presence. He is taken on a journey that tests his faith in a proper John Bunyan idiom, forced to contemplate the idea that the monk Starets Zosima was not as pure and divine as he trusted him to be. We are also shown the extent of his knowledge and wisdom with an exceptional sub-narrative revolving around a precocious child and a group of troublemaking schoolchildren.

The brothers Dmitri and Ivan are destructive and irascible characters, seldom likeable and halted in their lives through their mutual dislike of both their father and one another. We are forced to watch these brothers scold one another and fester in hatred, and for their views and desires to drive them apart. The Father Fyodor (while he is still alive) is also intolerable, and it is only through religious voices such as Starets Zosima whom we can take some kind of solace.

The object of the feuding brothers’ affections is the more well-to-do “lady” of the village Katerina Ivanovna whom is torn between her hateful relationship with Dmitri and her uncertain affections for Ivan. Grushenka is the “local Jezebel” of the village with whom the brothers are also besotted. It is clear that part of their mutual downfall has to do with the indecision, torment and deceit these women place upon the brothers, but this is more in relation to the untrustworthiness they have placed upon them. Alyosha expresses affection for Lise, a secondary character who also occupies the one home in which these women reside. He is unsure of his affections in the novel, however, and his love goes unresolved within the narrative.

The purpose of these characters is to torment one another. It is rare that a character within this text is not breaking down into a hysterical outburst at one moment or another. Barely five pages have past before a Karamazov is tearing someone apart in a moment of feverish excitement. The shame of asking for money (for grovelling and sacrificing dignity) seems to hang over the brothers at all times (especially Dmitri), and there are procession of niggling villagers such as Miusov, the bothersome theology student Rakitin and the dangerous epileptic Smerdyakov (who is roundly abused throughout the novel) to fester their lives.

Style & Length

The Brothers Karamazov does require a few weeks of consistent reading and demands those who undertake it to be prepared for all manner of devious arguments pertaining to the existence of God. The author was a devout believer in He Above (meaning there are Bible quotes aplenty to be found) but presents the opposing arguments in a lucid and accessible manner through Ivan’s own atheism and Dmitri’s agnosticism. Given how the two non-believers are forced to confront their own demons to an extreme degree, and to follow through on their godless decisions in times of great strife, it would seem the sensible people are those on the side of God in Dostoevsky’s opinion. Ivan is forced to confront the Devil towards the end of the book, and in contemplation of a life without love, he is driven to delirium.

Critics often liken the long-windedness in the text to the structural principals Dostoevsky derived from music. It is thought that the development of the novel thrives on the extended use of subordinate themes and variations of these themes. Victor E. Amend argued that, similar to the dialogue between piano and orchestra in Beethoven’s Fourth Piano Concerto, the development is accomplished by the alternate presentation of the themes until the dominant one prevails. While his style is an oral, often freewheeling and “unedited” it is a very readable and thoroughly accessible style.

Some might quibble about the extended time spent dwelling on inappropriate scenes, such as when the schoolchildren gather around Alyosha or the 70-odd pages spent on legal speeches towards the end, but these all contribute to this musical “theme and variation” style that makes Dostoevsky such a fulfilling author. To trim material as psychologically prodigious and insightful as this would be akin to chopping out the last ten minutes of a Beethoven Concerto or losing that extended guitar solo in Stairway To Heaven. It must remain as it stands. However, I should confess for the sake of honesty that I did find myself restless towards the end. This does not diminish the flow and brilliance of his style, in fact—it seemed appropriate to bring such a mighty work to its conclusion.

Translation & Other Works

The finest version of this book is the translation from Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky, who also did a stellar job on Crime & Punishment. It is available in Penguin Paperback. This version, alas, was an Oxford World Classics print, translated by Ignat Avsey. This Latvian louse converted a great deal of the text into Present Day English, incorporating phrases that seem inappropriate to the time period of the novel. He also had the audacity to change the title to The Karamazov Brothers instead of the original title on the proviso we don’t say “The Brothers Marx” when referring to a brethren. Pah! His introduction is also littered with erroneous observations (such as that the town name of the text is said once – it is in fact said twice in the text). His translation is to be avoided at all costs.

The oeuvre of this great Russian author is to me vitally important. What I take from his novels is this profound sense of redemptive catharsis; that there is nothing so awful from which a person can never return. His novels, in all their unrelenting gloom and Russian thickness, present a vision often of a world in squalor-filled chaos, but from this chaos he shows us that the solution for all our problems lies in our own collective freedom as individuals. This makes him timeless and cherished in the eyes of this reviewer, and I have yet to find a novel to match the incredible Crime & Punishment or a novella to equal Notes From Underground. Both are also recommended to those unversed in his canon.

Conclusion

The Brothers Karmazov achieves that rare feat in 19th century literature in that it remains infinitely readable, gripping and vital to readers to this very day. Even those intimidated by its considerable size will be surprised just how immersed in this magnificent masterwork they will become. As a rule, I avoid these mammoth doorstoppers when making book choices, but this one had me entranced from beginning to end—despite those indulgent moments of excessive erudition. I recommend this to all readers prepared to tackle its complex subject matter and who wish to put themselves at the hands of a master.

The rewards are abounding.

I finished reading this book at precisely 0205 hours today. The night still lay majestically over the impending dawn, and in its blackened stillness, swayed the echoes of this imperious book. The walls of my room, at once, turned into a fortress for Dostoevsky’s army of thoughts, and I, right in the middle of it, found myself besieged with its diverse, haphazard but mighty blizzard.

I am no stranger to this rambling Russian’s precocious visions and forbearance and yet, and yet, this work, swells much beyond even his own creator and spills over…. well, almost, everything.

A maniacal land-owner is murdered and one of his three sons is the prime suspect. Thus, ensues a murder trial and in its fold, fall hopelessly and completely, the lives of all the three brothers – the brothers Karamazov.

A life, when spans a trajectory both long and substantial, ends up writing a will that is both personal and universal. A notebook of reflections, a source of knowledge, an oasis of love and a mirror of perpetuity. And may I dare say that for D, this might well be a biography, which he, in his quintessential mercurial satire, chose to write himself, under the garb of fiction.

Dmitri, Ivan and Alyosha present the very tenets on which life gets lived, or even more, passed on. The impulsive and emotional Dmitri, the calculative and intelligent Ivan and the naïve and spiritual Alyosha represent the microcosm of a society which wagers war on the name of religion, status, power, values and ideals. And D takes each of these causes and drills, and drills, and drills even more, their various interpretations.

Religion, and church, take centre stage for a good 350 pages of this work. Amid homilies and confessions, monasteries and surrender, is pushed disturbing ideals that can rock one’s faith.n  

If you are surrounded by spiteful and callous people who do not want to listen to you, fall down before them and ask for their forgiveness, for the guilt is yours too, that they do not want to listen to you. And if you cannot speak with the embittered, serve them silently and in humility, never losing hope. And if everyone abandons you and drives you out by force, then, when, you are left alone fall down on the earth and kiss it and water it with your tears, and the earth will bring forth fruit from your tears, even though no one has seen or heard you in your solitude.

nAye, aye, I hear you, D and while some of it makes so much sense to my theist heart, some of it look outright suicidal. But why again, am I tempted to always, measure the righteousness, even lesser, the likeability, of my action from the perspective of my audience? Why make an ideal on a bed that doesn’t smell of my skin? I go to the board and think.

Philosophising, as he does with such ease and amiability, isn’t without unleashing a thundering dose of dichotomies. He steals the mirror from my room and turns it towards me: 'Oh, so you believe in the good? How nice! But, well, then, how come the devil lurks in the dark corners of your room? No? You don’t agree with me? Oh where does all the cursing and ill-will spring from that you aim, with such precise ferocity, towards the people you don’t quite find to your liking? From where does all the impiety and malice, that you secretly drink with panache, emerge from leaving you intoxicated for hours, if not days?' Sheepishly, I dig the chalk a little deeper into the board, and think.

And while I grope to find answers to his questions, I cheat and fall back on his treatise for hints, and insights.n  

You know, Lise, it’s terribly difficult for an offended man when everyone suddenly starts looking like his benefactor.

nWhy might a fallen man, a beggar, still keep a flame of dignity burning in his heart? Why might a harangued father, drive away his heirs from money, while spending his whole life hoarding for them? Why might a pauper, throw away his last penny on trifles, despite carrying a clear picture of his imminent doom in his eyes? Why might a pure heart, deliberately dirty his soul with pungent secrets, knowing there were no ways to erase them? Because deep down, what bind us, irrespective of our backgrounds, are the same threads: love, jealousy, ambition, hatred, revenge, repentance. In various forms, they dwell in us, and drive us, to give their formless matter, shape in different people, in different ways, at different places and in different times. I write a few words on the board and pause to ponder.

But, make no mistake; D turns the mirror on himself too and takes digs on his own character, because, after all, what life have we lived if we didn’t learn to laugh at ourselves? Laugh, yes; ah yes! There is plenty of humor ingrained, albeit surreptitiously, in this dense text and works like a lovely whiff of cardamom wafting over a cup of strong tea.n  

Ivan Fyodorovich, my most respectful son, allow me to order you to follow me!

nThere, I made a smiley on the board. I dropped the chalk and wondered: what created so much debate (and furore perhaps) when this book was first published in the 19th century? And then, I realized – even without my knowledge, my fingers had imparted two horns to the smiley’s rotund face. Yes, now that image surely needs to be questioned.

But do ask these questions. Do take the plunge into this deep sea of psychology and philosophy. Do feel the thuds of paradoxes and dualities on your soul. Do allow the unknown elements of orthodoxy and modernism to pucker your skin. Do allow some blood to trickle. Do allow some scars to heal. Because n  

No, gentlemen of the jury, they have their Hamlets, but so far we have only Karamazovs!”

nThat’s what!

---

n  Also on my blog.n

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"

My endless love ❤️
A true masterpiece.
The cleverest thing I ever laid my eyes on.
The paperback version full of my highlights.

Dostoevsky is a remarkable psychologist: every character in The Brothers Karamazov is depicted with such depth that they feel alive. Ivan, Alyosha, and Dmitry — the three brothers — embody different facets of human nature, from cold rationality to sincere faith and wild passion. Through their stories, Dostoevsky explores timeless questions about good and evil, faith and doubt, freedom and responsibility.

In addition, I would highlight a character like Smerdyakov — he is truly complex and provocative. Smerdyakov not only intrigues with his darkness but also evokes discomfort with his passive cruelty and slavish dependence on circumstances. To me, he represents that part of human nature we sometimes fear to confront: weakness bordering on cunning and the inability to take responsibility for one’s actions.

Women in The Brothers Karamazov play a limited but significant role. They primarily symbolize passion, temptation, and moral trials for the male characters.

I enjoyed The Brothers Karamazov more than The Idiot, though both are significant for their character exploration. In The Brothers Karamazov, Dostoevsky crafted a more balanced set of characters, despite most being unlikable. The addition of mystery, suspense, plot twists, and courtroom drama made it a more engaging and realistic story. Although, overall, I would consider this novel a fundamental philosophical work.

واقعا نمی‌دانم این داستایوسکی کیست! یک نابغه‌ی داستان‌نویسی؟ یک فیلسوف اگزیستانسیالیست؟ یک دیوانه؟

فقط این را می‌دانم که لذت خواندن رمان‌هایش را هیچ وقت فراموش نمی‌کنم. آن از "قمارباز" که تمام یک فرهنگ و گوهر یک قوم بزرگ را در گیرودار یک نوع قمار به نام رولت روایت می‌کند و تازه این همه‌ی ماجرا نیست و آن کنار آدم‌ها داستان خودشان را دارند و دور این میز رولت هر لحظه ممکن است معادلات تغییر کند و این دقیقا شبیه آدم‌های داستان است که هر لحظه ممکن است یک مسخره‌بازی از خودشان دربیاورند.
جنایت و مکافات را هم که دارم میخوانم و بسیار از غرق شدن در مداقه های موشکافانه این نویسنده در شخصیت هایش لذت میبرم. شاید کامل ترین و روانکاوانه ترین نوع شخصیت پردازی را بشود در جهان داستایوسکی یافت.

"برادران کارامازوف" هم یک رمان به شدت فلسفی است که نیروهای بزرگ معنابخش به زندگی انسان در جسم این سه برادر تجسم می‌یابند و با هم به بحث و حتی جدل و حتی جنگ می‌پردازند. آلیوشا که مهم‌ترین نقش را بین آن‌ها دارد تجسم معصومیت و ایمان انسان دین دار و معتقد مسیحی ارتدوکس است که در برخورد با برادرانش روحش متلاطم میشود و به سمت پرتگاه میرود. دیمیتری تجسم عشق شهوت‌آلود و گناه رنگ است که حاضر است روح معشوقه‌ی خود را با خیانت و هرزگی آزرده کند. و ایوان هم تجسم انسان علم‌زده و علم‌گرای مدرن است که از سویی دیگر ایمان خود به غیب را از دست داده و به عشق هم ایمانی ندارد. خود فئودور کارامازوف هم که پدر این سه برادر عجیب است تجسم کامل "انسان دیوانه و طماع" است. طماع را تنها به معنی طمع پول نگیرید. درست ترش طمع زندگی است در همه جنبه‌های حیوانی آن. این معنا را ایوان به این شکل بیان میکند که " پدر قصد ندارد تا هفتاد سالگی از جام رو بگرداند، راستش در رویای رسیدن به هشتاد سالگی است، خودش این طور می‌گوید." (فئودور داستایوسکی، برادران کارامازوف، ص324) حال آن که در کتاب مقدس عمر انسان را هفتاد سال ذکر کرده‌اند.

بالاخره این رمان نمی تواند این همه نیروی کنترل نشده را در خود تاب بیاورد و دیمیتری کارامازوف پدر خود را می کشد. ظاهر قضیه هم یک کشمکش عشقی و رقابت عجیب بین پدر و پسر بر سر زنی به نام گروشنکاست اما فکر میکنم جنبهء عینی و پلیسی قضیه کوچکترین بخش ماجراست و داستایوسکی با نوع داستان نویسی اش ما را مجبور میکند به جنب�� های عمیق تر ماجرا فکر کنیم. به درون آدمها نفوذ کنیم و از روان و ایمان آدمها سوال کنیم.
برادران کارامازوف و جنایت و مکافات هر دو حول و حوش یک قتل شکل میگیرند. در هر دو داستان مقتول شخصی است دنیاپرست و تهی از ارزشهای عالی انسانی اما حذف شدنش از دایره شخصیتها بر بدبختی بقیه می افزاید. کشمکش داستایوسکی به کشمکش نیچه یعنی انسان ذلیل نزدیک است. او هم به این فکر میکند که نکبت جامعه از وفور آدمهای ذلیل و حقیر نشات میگیرد اما این مسئله را نمیتواند حل کند که با این همه موجود حقیر چه باید کرد.
فقط این را میداند که ذلتی بالاتر از ذلت آنها که با تنزه طلبی قصد دارند دامن از این معرکه برچینندوجود ندارد.
بر اساس نظریه چندصدایی باختین این رمان نسبت به جنایت و مکافات اثری موفق تر است چون صدای دین صدای علم و صدای طمع را با وضوح بیشتری میشنویم.
---

اسفند 96:

Esta monumental novela ofrece motivos suficientes para posicionarse como una de las novelas cumbre de la literatura rusa y universal. Fiodor Dostoievski con su ultima y más lograda novela, alcanza retratar a la perfección la decadencia del alma humana así como la obsesión por los deseos carnales más bajos del hombre, tal como ya nos había mostrado en sus novelas anteriores. Una magnífica obra que entre sus tramas refleja a la perfección la situación política de la Rusia del siglo XIX, la espiritualidad del ser y la redención. Una novela altamente emocional y visceral, plagada de personajes disfuncionales y excesivos, pero sobre todo creados con una profundidad y complejidad propia de un autor tan conocedor del alma humana como lo era Fiodor Dosteievski.

Cuando el autor cumplía su sentencia en Siberia en 1850 (por fomentar ideología en contra del Zar), conoció a un joven llamado Ilinski que había sido condenado por asesinar a su padre para convertirse en heredero. Luego de 10 años se descubrió que había sido injustamente condenado y más tarde liberado cuando el verdadero asesino confesó el crimen. Esta experiencia conmovió a Dostoievski, transladándola a su más grande novela mostrándonos a la familia Karamasov. En algo más de mil páginas estructuradas en doce libros y con una prosa llena de sabiduría su autor desprende magia y maestría al contarnos una historia monumental sobre un parricidio.

Fiodor Karamasov es padre de tres hijos, un hombre repugnante y egoísta, que disfruta de caer en el ridículo al parecer un completo bufón; así como aprovecharse de los demás. El primer hijo es Dmitri, un hombre violento y lleno de odio hacia su padre al considerar que éste le robó parte de su fortuna. De un segundo matrimonio Ivan y Aliosha son los siguientes hijos, dotado este último de una personalidad conciliadora y entregado a la religión. Gruchenka, una divertida y despreocupada fémina que goza con implantar discordia en la familia Karamasov será pieza clave en la historia junto a Smerdiakov, el sirviente fiel del Padre Karamasov y del que se cree que es su hijo bastardo. Pronto ocurrirá una tragedia que termina con la muerte del padre, culpando a Dmitri el hijo mayor por considerar suficientes motivos el odio y los celos que sentía hacia su padre por culpa de Grushenka, mujer que tenia una relación sentimental con ambos.

Dostoievski siempre afirmó que Los hermanos Karamasov era su obra maestra. Y sin duda podría dársele ese título debido a la maestría con que su autor escribe innumerables historias entrelazándolas en una obra general. La novela es magistral y plasma toda su complejidad narrativa logrando manipular al lector en los dilemas psicológicos de sus personajes así como al mostrarnos un universo filosófico y altamente alegórico. Podríamos decir con todo mérito que Los hermanos Karamasov es la mejor novela jamás escrita, alabada por diversos autores ha servido de referencia y punto de partida para que grandes pensadores y novelistas desarrollen historias grandiosas inspiradas en esta bella novela. Y es que como diría Dostoievski: No hay nada que seduzca más al hombre que el libre albedrío, pero tampoco hay nada que lo haga sufrir más.