Degenerate Pineapples | A Brief Review of Dostoevsky

Oh boy. If you’ve talked to me within the last few months, I’ve probably mentioned my love for Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky at some point or another. I can confidently say that Dostoevsky is the first author whose works I’ve seriously resonated with on a personal level, and he’s truly renewed my love for reading which had been slowly waning away. I know I haven’t read too many works by other authors, but I’m still going to stubbornly proclaim that Dostoevsky is the greatest one out there. He’s definitely changed my life, and maybe he’ll change yours too!

I’m sure many people are surprised that I, perhaps the STEMiest of STEM majors, am so obsessed with Dostoevsky and his philosophy and literature. I think these two fields are fundamental to our understanding of human nature and are ultimately nourishing food for the soul. I love personal introspection (that’s sort of what this blog is for, after all!), and Dostoevsky has made me examine myself more than any STEM subject.

By no means is this post going to be a comprehensive review, but I will attempt to briefly summarize my thoughts on the works by Dostoevsky which I have read thus far. I will not try, however, to detail much of the historical, ideological, and literary contexts of 19th-century Russia and Europe which Dostoevsky was often addressing. Nonetheless, knowing a bit about the context of Dostoevsky’s works would immensely aid you in your reading. I should mention that you must learn about Dostoevsky’s personal life before reading any of his works, as he experienced some extremely life-changing events like being sentenced to a mock execution and then exile in Siberia. Here’s a nice short video introducing you to Dostoevsky.

A note on translations: translations vary significantly in their quality, character, and sometimes even basic structure. Therefore, I would do a bit of research before reading any Dostoevsky book to find out what other people recommend as the best translation. I’ve attached some translations I personally found below, but if you’re lost, I generally recommend ones translated by Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky.

Overview

Currently, I have read the following works by Dostoevsky:

I intend to add to this list over time as I continue to expand my Dostoevsky repertoire.

White Nights

“White Nights” is a short story that Dostoevsky published very early on in his literary career. It reads as a surprisingly modern story with its themes of love, isolation, and dreams vs. reality that bear some resemblance to our recent experiences in real life. When I read “White Nights,” I especially identified with the story through the lens of social media and/or the Internet as a whole. A central theme of the story revolves around this “dreamer” state of the narrator and how he creates these ideal worlds in which he ultimately loses himself. This greatly reminded me of how social media has, in some ways, caused us to lose part of our real world selves. Nowadays, we can create any online persona that is most favorable for us and distance ourselves from who we truly are, which could be symbolized by how we never actually learn the narrator’s name in the story. I find that this is especially fitting given the current quarantine circumstances, as I’m sure many of us have been lacking sufficient human contact for quite a while. In fact, we can all probably relate to the sentiment that the narrator expresses at the end when he says, “I saw myself just as I was now, fifteen years on, growing old, in the same room, alone as now with the same old Matryona, grown not a whit more intelligent over the years.” For the last few months, we’ve had to live vicariously through social media and the Internet. As the story shows, however, it’s crucial that we eventually invest ourselves in more real, physical relationships if we are to grow with the changing world around us.

I also found the title to be particularly profound. White nights are beautiful phenomena that occur around midsummer in St. Petersburg where it doesn’t get fully dark at night due to the high latitude. Therefore, “White Nights” blurs distinctions we typically assume to be rigid: the self and others, the animate and inanimate, day and night, and, of course, dreams and reality. It is precisely the fading of these barriers that allows dreams and reality to interact for the narrator and Nastenka, who are both “dreamers.” The narrator is brought joy only through his imaginings, while Nastenka pines for her absent lover, a man she has had limited interaction and no correspondence with. The dreamers are able to finally experience happiness in reality through their relationship, which is grounded in total candor. Although they interact in reality, their intimacy and the immediate depth of their connection are surreal. Just as the real can become dreamlike, dreams can become harsh. The narrator is pained by the sense that he is fantasizing his life away and has no real experiences or accomplishments. Nastenka remains loyal to the fantasy of reunion with her lover and suffers as a result. Nastenka’s dream becomes reality, while, for the narrator, his brief period of joy in reality will become the fuel for future flights of fancy.

Winter Notes on Summer Impressions

I’m not sure if I can say I really read this short essay, as 95% of it simply flew over my head. “Winter Notes on Summer Impressions” details Dostoevsky’s impressions of Western Europe during his trip there in 1862, and I just don’t have enough background knowledge on 19th-century Europe to really understand what he’s saying. Dostoevsky was notably very pro-Russian and pro-Orthodox, so he’s quite critical of the English and the French, as well as Anglicans and Catholics. I suppose the only part of this essay where I actually paid attention was during pages 47-52 where Dostoevsky talks about brotherhood. This section is really crucial to Dostoevsky’s discussions in his later works on the existence of a universal brotherhood that ties all of mankind together, and how this necessitates active love and faith to improve the world (most notably seen in The Brothers Karamazov).

Notes from Underground

Although I know this book may not be everyone’s cup of tea, I really enjoyed Notes from Underground because it constantly made me reexamine and question myself. I actually wrote my midterm paper on this book, titled “The Underground Man’s Obsession with Imposing His Power on Others” (contact me if you would like to read my paper - warning: it’s trash). Notes from Underground is rather short at less than 100 pages and presents a disturbing caricature of the human condition through its nameless narrator, who is generally referred to as the Underground Man. It’s divided into 2 parts: the first paints a psychological portrait of the Underground Man and launches his polemic against contemporary Russian philosophy like Nikolai Chernyshevsky’s rational egoism, while the second contains the Underground Man’s recollection of certain events from roughly 16 years prior to writing the first.

Part I makes for a richer read (very quotable material), as it’s basically the Underground Man’s philosophical stream of consciousness. Before reading this book, you should know that Dostoevsky wrote Notes from Underground as a rebuttal to a bunch of radical Russian beliefs that were gaining popularity during his time like rational egoism. The entire premise of rational egoism/utopianism rests on the belief that humans alway act rationally (i.e. in their best self-interest), or at least they would act in their own self-interest if they were able to perceive their real desires. However, in contemporary society, individuals’ experience of their desires is distorted by unequal social relations. Therefore, society needs to become more equitable, and then people will act more rationally. Of course, our boy Dostoevsky did not take too lightly to these ideas, so he uses the Underground Man in Part I to essentially attack rational egoism in every regard. To briefly summarize, Dostoevsky’s argument is that rational egoism fails because humans can and often do choose suffering over pleasure. In fact, this is a fundamental aspect of the human condition that we don’t want and don’t like security and happiness if they’re simply given to us. Rather, we merely want the ability to want and be able to choose (free will!), more so than the end products themselves. Actually, Dostoevsky was quite ahead of his time because later the communists tried to establish a “utopia” with the Bolshevik Revolution, but then everyone found out that it sucks!

Moving on, I think Part II sort of turns people away from this book. Evidently through his interactions with various people in St. Petersburg, the Underground Man is violently bitter and spiteful towards those around him. He actively seeks out and inflicts suffering unto others, and lives a miserable existence trapped in his own egocentric ways. The Underground Man is disgusting, cringe, and just an all-around terrible person. Despite this, I was both horrified and captivated by just how much I could identify with the Underground Man. I believe that Dostoevsky intended to convey the message that on some level, we can all relate to the Underground Man. However, most of us are simply too afraid to admit it and/or express ourselves to the lengths that he did. I’ll leave you with this very profound footnote from Dostoevsky himself at the bottom of the first page: “Both the author of these notes and the Notes themselves are fictitious, of course. Nevertheless, people like the author of these notes not only may, but actually must exist in our society, considering the general circumstances under which our society was formed. I wanted to bring before the public with more prominence than usual one of the characters of the recent past. He’s a representative of the current generation.”

The Double

I didn’t connect too well with The Double, but I don’t think that speaks negatively about Dostoevsky’s writing at all. People often criticize his works for being dense, convoluted, and really difficult to follow at times. However, in cases like The Double, I believe that it’s actually intentional and speaks to his brilliance. Perhaps more so than being a writer, Dostoevsky is, in many ways, a psychologist. He brings you into the human mind, which is naturally filled with all these contradictions and random thoughts and thus makes for a very confusing read. This is especially true in The Double, since Goliadkin is schizophrenic and literally going insane. Since the book is told from his perspective, it is only natural that the flow should feel disorganized to us readers.

Nonetheless, Goliadkin Sr.’s dynamic with his double as well as other people is just so perplexing. We technically can’t say for sure whether Goliadkin Jr. is actually a real person or simply a projection of Goliadkin Sr.’s schizophrenic mind. Both sides feature valid cases, but also raise so many more questions. If Goliadkin Jr. physically exists, then how does he know Goliadkin Sr.’s innermost secrets? If Goliadkin Jr. is merely a hallucination, then how does he tangibly interact with those around him? So much of Dostoevsky’s writing and intentions felt hidden to me here, but I suppose that the lack of a conclusive answer lends itself to the mystique of the novel. One interesting observation that I wanted to point out was Goliadkin Sr.’s lack of self-awareness compared to, say, the Underground Man. Of course, Goliadkin Sr. still bears many similarities to Dostoevsky’s other main characters with his wild imaginations, paranoid over-thinking, and alienation from society. However, whereas the Underground Man fully knew that he was disliked by others, Goliadkin Sr. is a bit more innocent and less self-loathing. From Goliadkin Sr.’s perspective, Goliadkin Jr. understandably does seem like a scoundrel. I just found it ironic how Goliadkin Sr. doesn’t respect that Goliadkin Jr. possesses all of the social skills which he himself lacks. In reality, Goliadkin Sr. is actually the one tarnishing his own name through his many blunders.

The Gambler

I found The Gambler to be a nice novel, but it strays a bit from what I’m generally accustomed to in Dostoevsky’s works. It really features themes like Russian nationalism within the greater European scene, but Dostoevsky is more famously known for his philosophical passages. One fun fact about this novel is that Dostoevsky essentially gambled away himself with its publication. Essentially, he made a terrible deal with a publisher that if Dostoevsky didn’t deliver a novel within a certain time period, all of his works for nearly the next decade would be owned by the publisher. Well, it turns out that Dostoevsky managed to deliver a novel on the last day possible, which ultimately became The Gambler. Dostoevsky was notably plagued by a crippling gambling addiction throughout his life, which I think allowed him to paint such an intricate picture of the Roulettenburg gambling scene in the novel. I’m still amazed by his detailed descriptions of the intense elation which players feel when they’ve won, the various players who occupy the tables at different parts of the day, and the strategies and rituals which players use to “maximize” their chances of winning. From these passages, I got a better sense of the extent to which Dostoevsky’s gambling addiction utterly consumed him from the inside out, as well as the severity of the consequences it left on his life.

I’d also like to note how the emotions of gambling sort of refute rational egoism similar to Notes from Underground. At the beginning of the novel, we see the precise moment at which Alexei Ivanovich falls victim to the gambling bug. He says: “I should have walked away right then, but some strange sensation was born in me, some defiance of fate, some desire to give it a flick, to stick my tongue out at it.” By all means, it would have been completely “rational” for Alexei Ivanovich to walk away from the table at that point and collect his earnings. However, this “desire to give it a flick” shows that it’s not the money, security, or happiness which Alexei Ivanovich is necessarily after. Rather, he simply craves the desires to exert his free will and entertain the thought of winning it all. In many ways, this idea can be generalized to the psyches of all people with gambling addictions, who persistently engage in these “irrational” and destructive actions despite their worsening conditions.

Notes from the House of the Dead

Notes from the House of the Dead is a rather important book in Dostoevsky’s development as a writer, as it contains many themes which would frequently reappear in his later books, namely power, class, identity, hope, suffering, and salvation. It details Dostoevsky’s own experiences while in a Siberian prison, just with the names slightly changed, and thus sits ambiguously between fact and fiction. The book is basically factual and meant to be read that way, but Dostoevsky definitely embellished and changed certain events to read more like a novel. Similar to Notes from Underground, the book is also divided into 2 parts. I found Part II, which was more depressing and harsh, to be somewhat underwhelming compared to Part I, which contained anecdotes about various convicts that were oddly heartwarming.

Unsurprisingly, Alexander Petrovich’s prison experiences in Notes from the House of the Dead share numerous similarities to Dostoevsky’s rejection of rational egoism in Notes from Underground. On a micro level, I was particularly fascinated by AP’s description of how money held this “terrible significance and power in the prison.” Prisoners were technically provided with everything they needed to survive, albeit in the most deplorable conditions, including food and water, shelter and clothing, and even the opportunities to bathe. However, AP specifically notes that without money, the prisoners would’ve “lost their minds, died like flies, or committed unheard-of atrocities.” Of course, money provided access to rare sensual pleasures like women and vodka (shoutouts to the vodka economy!). Most importantly, however, money allowed prisoners to exert their free wills and recapture some sort of dignity over their own lives, rather than completely submit themselves to their oppressive shackles and authorities. Free will is a constant undercurrent in this text about men who have been deprived of it to some level. Ultimately, it appears not to matter how you use your will, but only that you assert it in some way. On a more macro level, I was captivated by AP’s observations about how all of the prisoners believed that they would be freed one day, even if some of them were in prison for life. AP notably doesn’t respond to these sentiments with pity, but rather more so admiration. The prisoners needed to maintain these almost delusional beliefs that they were working toward something meaningful and personal instead of just engaging in the compulsory work provided by the prison. We may be able to better understand this attitude in the context of Dostoevsky’s own sentencing and subsequent pardon. Perhaps from Dostoevsky’s own view which is expressed through AP, he believed that everyone does have a chance to be forgiven by God and receive a second chance at life — a thought that can get anyone through even the darkest times.

Crime and Punishment

I actually sped through Crime and Punishment in only 3 days (lmao) during this past summer, so I don’t remember many of the finer details. It seemed to require a greater understanding of the 19th-century Russia context which I just didn’t have at the time, but nonetheless it was a very good book. As I mentioned before with The Double, Dostoevsky’s convoluted passages are sometimes very intentional and highlight his brilliance in depicting the natural psychology of the human mind. Whereas Goliadkin was schizophrenic, however, now Dostoevsky takes you into the mind of a young student (Rodion Raskolnikov) who is tormented by his murder of an old pawnbroker. Raskolnikov originally intended to kill the pawnbroker to prove that his theories about himself were correct as well as benefit society by redistributing the wealth. However, his worldview falls apart the moment he kills Lizaveta and then again later when he hides the money. I personally found Raskolnikov’s desire for greatness to be so relatable, as I think most people have entertained thoughts like “I could be great if only someone gave me the chance” and/or imagined themselves as special transcendent stars at some point. It’s essentially Nietzsche’s philosophy of the “Übermensch” where many people think that they’re “special” and possess the ability to accomplish great things (also Dunning-Kruger effect?). However, there’s a reason why so few people are actually able to go to such great extents like Napoleon (who is the titular example of the Übermensch in Crime and Punishment): they’re very rare! I found a very fitting and thought-provoking quote from George Bernard Shaw’s drama, Man and Superman, that says: “The reasonable man adapts himself to the world: the unreasonable one persists in trying to adapt the world to himself. Therefore all progress depends on the unreasonable man.” Of course, people like Napoleon did end up moving the world “forward,” and Raskolnikov sees himself in the same light and tries to justify his actions through a utilitarian perspective that they would improve the world. However, he ultimately succumbs to reintegrating himself back into society, showing how the true “Übermensches” are able to complete the entire task. I should note that Dostoevsky does capture Raskolnikov’s growth and redemption by the end of the novel through his acceptance of Sonia’s love (which is truly a beautiful story). I cannot recall too many of the exact details, though, so I digress.

The Idiot

I’ll admit: I’m not the biggest fan of The Idiot. However, it does succeed as a novel in its own ways. Prince Myshkin is Dostoevsky’s attempt at creating a portrait of a “positively beautiful man,” i.e. a Christ-like figure. He has this certain kind of magnetism and power which draws other people to him, and Myshkin is somehow able to see astounding beauty in the midst of this depraved world. Myshkin’s own spiritual beauty most notably manifests itself in the love he displays toward all of God’s creation, both in terms of nature and humanity. By portraying Myshkin as a truly beautiful person who performs beautiful actions, Dostoevsky seems to suggest a way through which the world can be cured of its depravity. Yet I was surprised (and disappointed too, maybe?) that Myshkin doesn’t actually succeed in saving anyone with his beauty by the end. We witness the destruction of numerous characters (Nastasya, Rogozhin, General Ivolgin, Ippolit, Aglaya, etc.) who fail to accept Myshkin’s beauty, as well as Myshkin’s own destruction in being reduced to his former epileptic state. Although Myshkin is morally superior to those around him, he arguably has a net negative effect on the world. In a letter to his niece Sofia Alexandrovna, Dostoevsky once wrote: “All writers, not ours alone but foreigners also, who have sought to represent absolute beauty, were unequal to the task, for it is an infinitely difficult one. … There is in the world only one figure of absolute beauty: Christ. That infinitely lovely figure is, as a matter of course, an infinite marvel.” It seems Dostoevsky knew that no matter how hard anyone tried, including himself, no one could create a character that came close to matching Christ’s beauty in the Bible. Naturally, I wonder: how did Dostoevsky stand behind this book and want others to interpret it? I would assume that the answer would still be in a Christianity-positive manner, but is The Idiot more of a celebration of Christ’s unequaled beauty, or a call to action about how the world is so absolutely corrupt that it can only reject (and destroy) people like Myshkin who exemplify Christ’s ideals?

The Idiot also partly revolves around a certain painting in Hans Holbein’s The Body of the Dead Christ in the Tomb. The painting effectively functions as a kind of barometer of morality. While Rogozhin enjoys looking at it, Myshkin is disturbed by it. Rogozhin, based on his comments, likes looking at it because he already has lost his faith, and the painting confirms the faithless worldview he has already fallen into. Conversely, Myshkin looks at it and says “a man could lose his faith” looking at a painting like that and is thus greatly disturbed (but he doesn’t lose his faith). Ippolit, in the third place, discusses the painting in his “Explanation,” noting that he doesn’t understand how a person could see that dead body and still believe in the miracles (i.e. still believe that Christ is God made flesh) and by extension, that Christ will be resurrected. Ippolit, in contrast to Rogozhin, doesn’t like the painting, but it does contribute to his inability to find religious faith. Essentially, Rogozhin chooses not to believe, Ippolit cannot believe, and Myshkin, of course, believes.

The Brothers Karamazov

Someone bring out the chalupas, because it’s time to talk about the greatest novel ever written: The Brothers Karamazov! Ugh, but where do I even start? There’s so many layers to this book, and I sort of feel like everything needs to be taken as a whole, so perhaps my comments here won’t help you much. I wrote my final paper on The Brothers Karamazov and the arguments Dostoevsky presents for faith over doubt. I’m actually sort of proud of the result (contact me if you would like to read it), so I’ll include my opening paragraph below as a summary of what I enjoyed most about this book:

The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoevsky tackles some of life’s most difficult questions concerning religion, morality, and the existence of suffering. By weaving philosophical discussions into a plot centered around a patricide, Dostoevsky ultimately tests the faith of each character and the reader in God and humanity. While he admits that there may not be a logical justification, Dostoevsky actively takes the side of faith in its conflict with doubt. Faith, which is conveyed through the elder Zosima and achieved through his disciple Alyosha, is found and sustained by the practice of active love and necessitated by a universal moral responsibility. Conversely, doubt is embodied by Ivan and his demands for rational proof, which exclude any active love for God’s world despite its flaws and instead incite his love for humanity only in the abstract. Evidently through the contrasting reactions of Alyosha and Ivan to suffering and injustice, Dostoevsky demonstrates how faith is essential to living a more positive existence. Furthermore, even the transformation of a man like Mitya, who is still on the path to spiritual redemption, reveals the profound influence faith can have on one’s life. Fundamentally, Dostoevsky makes his case for faith over doubt by distinguishing between their respective impacts on the world as well as on the person who holds these beliefs.

In short, I just found the moral dilemmas and philosophical arguments centered around faith and doubt to really resonate with my own spiritual journey. I generally consider myself as someone who likes to question everything and find out exactly why things are the way they are. This approach to life has sort of tormented me in my acceptance of faith, however, because I’ve always tried to apply conventional logic to God. Having attended a high school like High Tech, which was very STEM-driven and contained a lot of really intellectual individuals, I’ve constantly sought ways to integrate my beliefs in God with my dedication to reason into one coherent worldview. I wouldn’t say I ever doubted that God existed per se, but I did feel an enormous pressure to have to “prove” to my friends why Christianity was true, similar to how you would write a mathematical proof derived from a set of axioms and postulates. Consequently, I dabbled in the field of Christian apologetics during my junior and senior years of high school, but I still couldn’t find a truly fulfilling rational argument as to why someone should believe in God.

However, I think The Brothers Karamazov ultimately conveys the message that faith and reason are fundamentally incompatible. There are so many aspects of this world, like all of the suffering and injustice, that simply cannot be comprehended by human logic. Yet we must still cling to a belief in God, because otherwise there is no hope for redemption at all. We have to believe that there is a God who grieves and mourns infinitely more than we do for the injustice and evil we see every day on the news. We have to accept faith in defiance of the many reasons to doubt, because Christ’s love ultimately compels a dedication to goodness and active love that is a positive influence on this world. I really love this quote by Jordan Peterson regarding the essence of Dostoevsky’s message in The Brothers Karamazov: “The existential issue is not what you believe as if it’s a set of facts, but how you conduct yourself in the world.” In the book, Dostoevsky doesn’t really respond to the intellectual cases for doubt with words, as characters who embody faith like Alyosha are largely verbally unresponsive. Nonetheless, I think this is entirely intentional on Dostoevsky’s part and even fundamental to his view of faith. Simply put, choosing to believe in God cannot be explained in logical terms. Instead, faith is best justified through a picture, which Dostoevsky shows with instances like Jesus’ kiss of the Grand Inquisitor and Alyosha’s kiss of Ivan. I personally find these depictions to be so ambiguous yet so profound in capturing the essence of faith. Whereas before I was so focused on trying to intellectualize Christianity, I’ve now realized that I should focus more on how I’m loving other people and making the world a better place.

Anyways, I could definitely say a lot more about this book, but I’m not here to write a novel of my own. If you ever want to talk more about The Brothers Karamazov, just reach out to me - I’d much rather explain myself verbally.

Conclusions

If I had to recommend any of the above works as must-reads, I’d say to read Notes from Underground, Crime and Punishment, and The Brothers Karamazov, ideally in that order to best appreciate the development of Dostoevsky’s famous themes. You could also add in Notes from the House of the Dead in-between Notes from Underground and Crime and Punishment if you have the time, but it’s not absolutely necessary. To conclude, if I had to succinctly summarize what I love about Dostoevsky, it’s that he captures this perfect intersection of psychology, philosophy, and religion that I personally resonated with immensely. Dostoevsky brings you into the depths of the human psyche and examines what exactly constitutes a person, thereby also forcing you to examine what constitutes yourself in the process.