Saturday, March 31, 2012

“Pyotr Ilyich listened and was silent…”


Book VIII appears to be quite the departure from the protracted flow of the previous installments of the novel thus far.  I found myself to be in a similar position to that of Pyotr Ilyich; simply caught in the whirlwind of erratic and energetic behavior that emanated from the seemingly indefatigable Dmitry.  This flurry of activity marked Dmitry’s ultimate aim to capture Agrafena Aleksandrovna at last, and to pursue a new existence marked by a rapid reformation of his behavior.
What I found particularly interesting in this reading was the linkage between deception and non-Russians (or non-Russian qualities).  If I have learned anything from my half-semester dabble with Russian literature, it has been that nothing is mentioned without reason.  I feel that the sheer specificity of the endnotes can attest to the overall importance of  small details.  In Book VIII there is the overt conflict that exists between Dmitry and the Polish guests, but also a passing reference earlier at the German-like qualities of Kuzma Samsonov and his sons.  I find it curious that both the Polish visitors and the elder Samsonov facilitate deceptions of Dmitry.  The Polish deception took place in a dispute over cards, while the elder Samsonov succeeded in sending Dmitry astray to Ilyinskoye.  With both the elder Samsonov and the Polish guests Dmitry acts excessively Russian, emphasizing on occasion that he is acting on his honor as a “Russian man”. 
I find it quite intriguing however, that Dmitry’s apparent faith in Russian qualities exhausts itself when he is presented with state authorities.  While in a volley of banter with Pyotr Ilyich, Dmitry in due course accuses him of having tapped public funds for his own use.  Not to mention that the young civil servant has the practice of buying up weapons (what can essentially be considered a tool or resource) and placing said items in the dormant position of display.  It seems that Pyotr Ilyich has the skill to accumulate, but not to employ his skills in a more constructive manner.  In much of the same way, the district chief of police, the public procurator, and the investigator are all described not by their physiognomy, as with other characters, but by their positions and habits.  In each case the state officials in Book VIII are presented as absorbed by their possessions, be it weapons, a pocket watch, or even a uniform. 
The manner in which characters are presented in Book VIII has driven me to the conclusion that there is a complex definition of the term “Russian” and what it means to be a part of a segment of Russian society.  There seem to be three dominant groups presented, that of “foreign” Russians (those that draw influences from Polish and Germanic culture and display deceitful qualities), “state” Russians (those that utilize state authority to develop personal wealth and power), and “customary” Russians (the common rank of society that falls in the midst of the other two groups). 
Despite my contemplations concerning the grouping of Russian society according to Dostoyevsky, I ultimately feel as if the book is hinging on a transition point.  Like Pyotr Ilyich, I was taken aback by the sudden energy of the situation.  As the “business” begins to unravel itself it should be interesting to see how the earlier components that have been substantially introduced in the previous Books begin to fully interact with each other.  As a reader I am at the stage where “listening” and observing is important, especially since the plot seems to have established forward progress.         

              

Friday, March 16, 2012

From Living Under Onion Domes to Distributing Onions


In Book VII Dostoyevsky focuses on Aleksey’s journey of discovery following the death of Elder Zosima.  As is expected Aleksey takes the death of the Elder as a major personal loss.  Aleksey’s tumult is amplified by the strong denunciations of the Elder delivered by the other monastic brethren, specifically the condemnations dispensed by father Ferapont and his awkward disciple from Obdorsk.  Ultimately, it seems that the trauma of the Elder’s death caused Aleksey to question his continued stay in the monastery, driving him to leave in favor of the secular world.
After leaving the gates of his sheltered existence with a crooked smile but determined steps, Aleksey seems to embrace the activities that would have led to his personal embarrassment only a little while earlier.  Through his discussions with Rakitin and Agrafena however, it is clear that Aleksey holds on to his values bequeathed by the deceased Elder.  It seems that the inevitability of secular fate rattles the newly freed Aleksey.  As has been common in the novel thus far, the troubled Aleksey returns to his place of haven within the monastery.
            Near the end of Book VII Elder Zosima visits Aleksey in a vision.  In this vision the Elder disputes Aleksey’s belief that life is to be lived in perfect piety in order to achieve eternal salvation.  Instead, the vision of the Elder espouses that life is to be lived, even if it is only one onion (or one good deed) that is acted upon in one’s life, it is often all that it is needed to appropriately judge character.  This new doctrine influences Aleksey greatly.  He seems to suddenly understand that there is more to life than simply worrying over the perceived goodness of one’s actions. 
            In many respects I find this Book to be reminiscent of a coming-of-age story.  It begins with the Aleksey’s sheltered existence in the monastery, peaks with his disillusionment and confusion at Agrafena Alexsandrovna’s, and culminates in his new found love for life at the end of the vision of the Elder.  I find that this progression was made all the more evident by Aleksey’s apparent loss of love for God’s world at the death of the Elder, but renewed faith following the culminating vision of Book VII. 
As important as Aleksey’s new philosophy toward life is to him, it might ultimately be what pushes him further to fulfilling his Karamazov name.  Throughout the text we have heard many a character refer to the inevitable fate of all who bear the Karamazov name.  Given Aleksey’s apparent trajectory toward a less directed monastic life and more secular-loving life, he might fall astray from the path he had earlier set.  This is of course conjecture, and will need to be supported as the text continues.  I still hold however that the most telling aspect of this Book is Aleksey’s abandonment of the monastery and embracement of the earth.  It seems that Aleksey may finally begin to operate on the course that the Elder set for him…Out into the secular world.                     

Friday, March 9, 2012

Freedom and Servitude


           In this latest installment of The Brothers Karamazov (Book VI), the narrator introduces the backstory of Elder Zosima through the writings of Aleksey.  The scattered stories that are recounted focus on the early portion of the Elder’s life, concentrating on the events that developed his personal philosophy toward the proper and ideal ordering of life.  Present throughout Book VI is the theme of servitude. 
It is developed by Elder Zosima that it is only in servitude and apparent solitude that we are truly able to attain freedom.  He furthers this by stating that science is subject to the senses and that our concept of secular needs and rights has created a false sense of freedom, and that ultimately, in its own manner, this reduces society to self-repression and solitariness.  The Elder is of the belief that in being a servant one has the ability to truly understand loyalty, it is this concept of loyalty (and faith) that drives the freedom to understand an embrace love and religion.  Unknowingly, the progressives and the elite have succumbed to the secular, ignoring their role as God’s servant…this itself a central theme from the story of Job that Elder Zosima continually refers to as essential.  It is only by submitting that we may ultimately understand what it is to love and to truly have faith.  In this manner the Russian people and the Russian monks are pegged as the freest within the realm.
In addition to the Elder’s interesting concept of freedom through servitude, is also his passing remarks at the supremacy of the Russian Orthodox faith:

Meanwhile in their seclusion they are preserving the image of Christ in well-apportioned and undistorted form, in the purity of God’s truth, as it was handed down to them by the most ancient fathers, apostles and martyrs, and when the need arrives they will show that image to the wavering truth of the world.  Great is this thought.  This star will shine in the east.[1]

In the excerpt above the Elder cites traditional Orthodox arguments concerning the pureness of their religious text in comparison to Western vernacular translations.  There is a sense throughout The Brothers Karamazov that the Orthodox Church has remained untouched by the statist leanings of the Roman Catholic faith and the populist leanings of the Western Protestants.  This brings to bear the age old Russian quandary concerning the East vs. the West.  It is clear that Elder Zosima views the Russian Orthodox faith as superior to the Western religious concept, as well as to the introduced notions of secular necessities and method, which are most associated with the Western line of development. 
            In order to finish my post I would like to turn to the passing reference Dostoyevsky made toward the Decembrist revolt of 1825.[2]  The reference, although minimal, puzzled me greatly as to why it was specifically included.  The Decembrists of 1825 were a group of officers and men from the Imperial Russian army that refused to swear allegiance to Tsar Nicholas I upon the death of Alexander I.  Among the grievances the Decembrists touted was the lack of a Russian constitution .[3]  The liberal revolt was subsequently repressed, but the idea of a non-autocratic Russian state persisted.  The Decembrists of 1825 initiated  the starting tick-mark on the timeline toward the conflict against the autocratic state.  It seems that Elder Zosima poked fun at the idealism of the Decembrists, which set-off the progressively educated landowner (leading to the duel). 
What I find interesting in The Brothers Karamazov in terms of the various uprisings that have been mentioned, is that in each case their mention has been associated with a West-leaning individual, be at Miusov or the landowning elite.  Overall, it can be said that Dostoyevsky seems to tout the Eastern line as appropriate for Russia, despite his own flirtations with liberal thought through his involvement as a Petrashevtsi.  It should be interesting to see whether Dostoyevsky surrenders any of his thoughts on whether liberal and socialist ideals were appropriate for Russia, or whether his period in political exile had influenced him to focus on another source for Russia’s salvation, away  from the Western movements so repressed by the Tsarist regime.               


[1] Fyodor Dostoyevsky, The Brothers Karamazov, Translated by David McDuff (New York: Penguin Group, 2003), 405.
[2] Ibid., 385.
[3]Zenon E. Kohut and David M. Goldfrank “Reaction Under Nicholas I,” Library of Congress Country Studies. http://lcweb2.loc.gov/frd/cs/rutoc.html (Accessed March 9, 2012).

Friday, March 2, 2012

Nobody Expects the Spanish Inquisition!


           Book V of The Brothers Karamazov is dominated by the presence of Ivan Fyodorovich’s poema concerning the Grand Inquisitor of Seville and the hypothetical visit of Christ.  This is the first occasion in the text in which Ivan presents his thought on any subject in a forthright manner.  There have been previous allusions to Ivan’s notions concerning religion and the Church, most specifically the discussion of his article concerning the Ecclesiastical Court in Book II. 
            In Book II Ivan outlined his thought concerning the relative strengths of the Church and the state in reference to the harmonious governance of society.  Ivan espoused that the main concern of these institutions is the maintenance of a sound society.  He advocates that the state, through imposing punitive and retroactive justice does not play an adequate enough role in governing society toward a harmonious condition.  The Church however, has the ability to instill incentives that prevent infractions before they occur.  As such the Church has the ability to govern a society by influencing it into accepting self-governance and self-accountability.
            In the poema that Ivan iterates to Aleksey, the Church is defined as a separate entity from the theological base upon which it is founded.  Ivan feels that humans in their most free state are unable to conduct themselves accordingly due to their lack of ability to fully comprehend the nature of religious things.  The Church has established itself as the earthly authority that mankind could “bow down” to, and submit to in shared obedience.  Ivan’s character of the Grand Inquisitor furthers this by stating that conflict itself was caused by the competing needs of individuals to seek something in which they could believe, something that could provide direction in the face of the uncertainty of freedom.[1]  The granting of authority to the Church in the absence of Christ became the basis on which the Church built its secular power.  In resisting the first temptation of the tempter in the wilderness, Christ (in the viewpoint of the Grand Inquisitor) refused the opportunity to provide the governance that the masses sought, and hence provided the opportunity to the earthly institution of the Church.
            Ivan’s estimation importantly consists of the inability for the human masses to comprehend the gift of freedom.  Therefore, in order for society to exist a structure or direction must be provided through which to govern the masses.  The Church is designed to supplant the state, in the sense that the former has the power to truly govern, while the latter only has the ability act retroactively in reflex to a given transgression. 
            In a sense it almost seems that Ivan is not condemning the Church for his perceived view of its true power, but in a manner almost in awe of its ability to seize its dominant position over society.  Despite the rather up-front nature of the poema, I still feel as if Ivan is hiding the true content of his feelings.  I find it quite intriguing that Ivan managed to develop a similar argument in Book II, but managed tailor it in such a manner that it seemed supportive of both religion and the Church.  With Aleksey however, the poema developed a much darker relationship between the Church and its theological foundation.  At present I still feel as if Ivan is hiding his genuine allegiance.  In many respects I liken Ivan to a merchant ship in wartime that is flying a “flag of convenience”…whether the ship contains a cargo of arms or cargo of aid remains yet to be seen.                          


[1]Fyodor Dostoyevsky, The Brothers Karamazov, Translated by David McDuff (New York: Penguin Group, 2003), 331.