Classics and the Western Canon discussion
Dostoevsky, Brothers Karamazov
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Brothers Karamazov, Book 4
I am reading with the group, so it's not a spoiler just a prediction. But if anyone thinks that I can see the future like Zossima, don't read this.I think is clear that Fyodor is going to get murdered and the brothers will be the main suspects. Notice when father Paissi is giving an advice to Alyosha before he leaves the temple, he calls Alyosha an orphan. And also stuff like the bowing...
Thomas wrote: "How is it that guilt leads to love? Or am I misreading this passage? "The passage is not entirely easy to pick apart.
What I see is guilt in connection with sin. For the monk, striving to live a holy life, the awareness of sin, his own and the world's, is ever before him to a much deeper understanding than anyone who doesn't live the religious life. He has therefore an added responsibility not only in regards to himself, but to the world. This added responsibility expresses itself in prayer and penance to the benefit of all.
Guilt enters when failing to faithfully pursue the vocation, to lose focus. If however, the monk stays faithful to his calling, his witness will bear fruit in the form of love.
Luiz wrote: "I am reading with the group, so it's not a spoiler just a prediction. But if anyone thinks that I can see the future like Zossima, don't read this.I think is clear that Fyodor is going to get mur..."
If you're right then we might have to make a new rule just for you: No prophesying! But there may be another reason Fr. Paissy calls Alyosha "my orphan." Way back in Book 1, Chapter 3, Alyosha and Ivan are called orphans because Fyodor abandons them after the death of their mother. Did Fr. Paissy know this? Hmmm....
Here is a question: We see a lot of large sums being mentioned. Does anyone know how large they are in relation to the average income? I tried to find out, but came up empty.
Now Russia really didn't have much of a middle class, still, in what relation would the 3,000 Rubles Dimitri squandered on Grushenka be compared to his pay as an officer or even the yearly income of a peasant?
Kerstin wrote: "..3,000 Rubles Dimitri squandered on Grushenka..."It's not how much but who he squandered the money on that really mattered to Katerina, I think. She would have forgiven him even if he had squandered many times more, but not on another woman.
Nemo wrote: "It's not how much but who he squandered the money on that really mattered to Katerina, I think. She would have forgiven him even if he had squandered many times more, but not on another woman."Very true! Buying Grushenka a cup of tea with Katerina's money would have been too much.
Luiz wrote: "I am reading with the group, so it's not a spoiler just a prediction. But if anyone thinks that I can see the future like Zossima, don't read this.I think is clear that Fyodor is going to get murdered..."
Speaking of spoilers, reread the first sentence of Book I Chapter 1 to see what Dostoevsky things about that concept!
I was expecting him to get hit by a runaway hay wagon. But I guess that's not "dark and tragic" enough.
Luiz wrote: "I think is clear that Fyodor is going to get murdered and the brothers will be the main suspects. "It's almost like one of those Agatha Christie's novels where everyone had a motive and opportunity, but not everyone actually did it.
If thought could kill, Fyodor would not survive Book 2.
Kerstin wrote: "Here is a question: We see a lot of large sums being mentioned. Does anyone know how large they are in relation to the average income? I tried to find out, but came up empty."
This is a question that I always try to answer when I read. Victorianweb.org has good information about mid 1800s England. I was trying to make sense of money as it pertained to Great Expectations. One important idea I came across is purchasing power. We may be able to adjust for inflation and say that one pound in 1850 is equivalent to thirty dollars today (I have no idea). But what's really important is purchasing power and cost of living. Items like clothing would be more expensive then than now because we mass produce (and outsource to low wage countries). But, expenses that we often consider necessities like electricity, indoor plumbing, phones, cars, etc. wouldn't have been expenses for them. All that just to say that I think the topic is complex.
But I've been keeping track of this as we read and here's what I've come up with in my reading so far. Fyodor is said to have 100,000 Rubles. That's probably not in cash but the value of his estate. Katerina has 80,000 Rubles and is apparently quite wealthy. We don't have an exact amount on Miusov, but he appears to be quite wealthy too. But Madame Hohlakov may be the wealthiest of all since she owns multiple estates. Whatever the case, they all seem to be more or less in the same social circle. Additionally we know that Dmitri received 6,000 to give up his claim on the estate and then gave 5,000 to Katerina to get her father out of trouble. Then of course Katerina gave Dmitri 3,000 to send to Moscow that he wasted. When I read that my first thought was 3,000 might not be that much. After all, how much does it cost to get drunk? But then in section four the situation begins to come into focus. Katerina sends 200 to Captain Snegiryov for Dmitri insulting his honor. Now the captain and his family are living in near squalor. When he learns about the 200 he starts talking about everything he can do with it. Hire servants, get medicine, pay for doctor visits, buy a horse, move, etc. It's possible that this is all wishful thinking. We probably all know people who get a tax return or other large sum of money and then start making plans for spending ten times that much. There's some hint that that is what's happening because Alyosha says that he's willing to give more (big mistake!) if the captain needs it. But if we accept that the captain understands the value of money then 200 is a large sum. The 3,000 that Dmitri blew, probably on getting the whole village drunk for a week, becomes an enormous amount of wealth. And 100,000 must put you in the 1%.
I'm not sure how much that helps, but I'll keep looking for clues in the text so that we can work out at least a relative value of money in the novel.
Jeremy wrote: "Kerstin wrote: "Here is a question: We see a lot of large sums being mentioned. Does anyone know how large they are in relation to the average income? I tried to find out, but came up empty."
Th..."
My thoughts went exactly along these lines. When the 200 Rubles entered the narrative, all of a sudden the monetary excesses mentioned previously come more into focus.
Kerstin wrote: "My thoughts went exactly along these lines. When the 200 Rubles entered the narrative, all of a sudden the monetary excesses mentioned previously come more into focus. "I agree. Both Snegiryov's poverty and Dmitri's treatment of him, and the way each act with such different sums of money, illuminates Dmitir's character still further. He's the essence of the prodigal; Fyodor is the opposite of the father in the New Testament. So what happens to a son when his father doesn't welcome him back?
I didn't try to figure out the purchasing power of 200 rubles, but the way it read, the way it described the potential changes in the life of a poor family, I valued it at about 10-20 thousand in our (American) money. A small chunk of money but sizeable enough that you could maybe get yourself out of debt and get on a track to something better. You couldn't buy a new car - the equivalent to a carriage - with it, you might get a used car and a few other necessities that would put you in a position to try for a better job or way of life. I guess you could value it at about 50 thousand, given all it seems to promise for him. Then you would get a new car and have enough left over for some of the other things. I can't imagine anyone gifting anyone 50 thousand because of an assault without injury (except to pride, which isn't nothing, but assualts with injury also damage pride as much or more than without). twenty thousand seems like the upper limit of what a rich person would give to a poor person to make some trouble like that go away. More like ten thousand. And I don't see how a poor family can start their life over with less than that.Again, just a guess. Current costs of real estate and new cars combined with otherwise cheap food and clothing make it hard to compare. I am just thinking of how much it would take to get someone out of economic destitution (which often includes debts in North America. maybe not in Europe). With twenty thousand you could buy a slightly older van that could be used for pickup or even uber side work, have some left over for other neglected obligations.
I found the refusal of the money to be strange. I could read it again, but it read like sarcasm in the end, as if he was stringing Alyosha along with the description of how wonderful this gift would be. As if he was aware of Alyosha's naivete and was playing a game with him. If so, there must be some class related anger going on in him. He said something about his daughter being a kind of SJW of the era.
Jacob wrote: " So what happens to a son when his father doesn't welcome him back? ."Great question.
Jeremy wrote: "Kerstin wrote: "Here is a question: We see a lot of large sums being mentioned. Does anyone know how large they are in relation to the average income? I tried to find out, but came up empty."
Th..."
It would probably be easy for the child of a wealthy person to go through a large sum of money without it really saying much about that person as an individual. He "wasted" 3000, ok. But depending on the exorbitant prices that upper class people are charged for silly things like haircuts and whatnot (currently there is a cruise going across the northwest passage that charged 30-150 thousand for tickets) an otherwise moral but naive child of wealth could go through the money quickly. A misguided investment, a few dinners with potential business partners etc. It is hard for me to use the wasted money as a measure of dmitri's individual character since back then (and now) wealthy people - people with real money - live in a completely different economic world from the rest of us. A wouldn't judge a rich kid too harshly for not being aware of that yet..
Also, I don't see why it would be a "big mistake" for Alyosha to have offered to lend more to help the man once the man got himself back on his feet. It is obvious that Alyosha is naive, but not so obvious that the man is a con artist or scammer or otherwise planning to rip anyone off. He and his son (and maybe his daughter and wife) do seem to have a lot of issues around violations of their pride and dignity, so maybe he is still planning revenge on the Karamazovs. I don't see any evidence of that, but it is possible.
Theresa wrote: "I found the refusal of the money to be strange. I could read it again, but it read like sarcasm in the end, as if he was stringing Alyosha along with the description of how wonderful this gift woul..."The money only gets refused when Alyosha mentions the name of Katerina Ivanovna. Maybe it was the source of the money that led to the refusal?
Thomas wrote: "How is it that guilt leads to love?"I think it is more along the lines of acknowledging guilt is accepting truth, and only through truth can people come to the love of God.
Remember this from book 2: "Above all, do not lie to yourself. A man who lies to himself and listens to his own lie comes to a point where he does not discern any truth either in himself or anywhere around him, and thus falls into disrespect towards himself and others. Not respecting anyone, he ceases to love, and having no love, he gives himself up to the passions and coarse pleasures, in order to occupy and amuse himself, and in his vices reaches complete bestiality, and it all comes from lying continually to others and to himself.”
Ashley wrote: "Theresa wrote: "I found the refusal of the money to be strange. I could read it again, but it read like sarcasm in the end, as if he was stringing Alyosha along with the description of how wonderfu..."good point
Theresa wrote: " More like ten thousand. And I don't see how a poor family can start their life over with less than that."
You may be right, but if that's the case then Fyodor's 100,000 would be worth about 5,000,000 and the 3,000 that Dmitri stole from Katerina would be about 150,000 - no small sum to steal and then spend on Grushenka!
Also, I don't see why it would be a "big mistake" for Alyosha to have offered to lend more to help the man once the man got himself back on his feet.
What I meant by it being a big mistake is that it's when Alyosha begins to join in the captain's excitement that the captain comes to himself and rejects the money. The rejection of the money is an issue of pride. The captain's pride was wounded when Dmitri drug him down the street in front of his son. His son reacted by abasing himself and kissing Dmitri's hand and begging him to let go of his father. This is a source of shame for both the son and the father. I don't know how it is for women, but I've never met a man who wasn't more humiliated to suffer injustice in front of his children (or his wife too, but especially his children) than he would be if he was by himself. A man can take a lot if he's the only one who knows. But to be overpowered and insulted in front of your son? Especially when your manhood is in effect already shaky because you can't support your family? (You may accuse me of a patriarchal interpretation, but I think such a reading is appropriate for the period). Of course we can condemn the captain's rejection of the money as rash and foolish. But when you've humiliated a man and stripped him of his dignity the only thing he has left is his pride. And in this case accepting the money would have been a further humiliation. I hated to see him throw the money down, though as I've said I partly blame Alyosha and his lack of tact. But I understand the captain too. This is an act of defiance of the powerless in the face of the powerful. In the captain's mind his son would never respect him if he took the money. Now, he may not be able to care for his family, but he thinks he'll have their respect, which is what matters most to him at the moment.
Jeremy wrote: "The rejection of the money is an issue of pride."
I agree.
‘What shall I say to my son?’ explanation sounds more plausible to me than that of playing a game with Alyosha.
The whole dialogue was held under enormous stress, especially for the captain, and at such conditions simple logic and calculations usually break down and the emotions take the upper hand.
And we also should take into account that the captain and the Karamazovs belong to the same class, namely, the upper class - the nobility. The Captain just happened to be poor. Otherwise, no question of a duel would have arisen. Not challenging Dmitriy to a duel pushes the captain even more to the middle class, often despised by both the peasants and nobility at that time at that place.
Jeremy wrote: "The rejection of the money is an issue of pride." ..."
I agree too. It is really a question of human dignity, but since you raise the issue of how a woman might have dealt with it, I think we would all have felt some shame in taking the money and staying silent. I don't know about "accusing" you of a patriarchal interpretation, I haven't been in the habit of accusing individual readers of any kind of interpretation, but I do like to offer alternatives. Since you bring up contemporary situations for men, I'd say the offer of money, in addition to being primarily an affront to human dignity, is also an affront to constructions of masculinity that existed in that time and place (and continue to exist). I'd expect most women would also feel debased by the offer of money to address an similarly humiliating assault, although the only similarly humiliating assault on a woman might be rape, or rape in front of her children. It is a little bit more violent that dragging someone out onto the street (because it is very physically violent on an intimate level - possibly even more humiliating than what the captain experienced). Anyway, both scenarios are primarily assaults on human dignity before they are specifically against "a man's honour" or "a woman's honour" (actually. rape is/was also considered an assault on the honour of the husband, father, brother etc. even if the woman might have given her consent - I am thinking of Helen & Paris right now... as well as odysseus being held against his will on that island with that goddess..)
Ashley wrote: "I think it is more along the lines of acknowledging guilt is accepting truth, and only through truth can people come to the love of God.Remember this from book 2: "Above all, do not lie to yourself. A man who lies to himself and listens to his own lie comes to a point where he does not discern any truth either in himself or anywhere around him, and thus falls into disrespect towards himself and others. Not respecting anyone, he ceases to love, and having no love, he gives himself up to the passions and coarse pleasures"
Nice. I like that.... though I'm not sure I understand it yet. Does the truth of guilt, which is an acknowledgement of sin -- universal sin -- necessarily produce universal love? Maybe it does, but then I worry that this might in some way be a repudiation of morality. "Love the sinner, not the sin," I seem to recall from somewhere... but does this preclude the ability to judge? If there is no judgement, what need for morality?
When Zosima bows before Dmitri it is a gesture of great humility before a great sinner. It seems this is only possible from a position of universal love, in which everyone, even great sinners, are deserving of respect and love, especially by those who are also great sinners.
This sort of universal love seems to contrast with the attitude of Fr. Ferapont, who lives by a harsh ascetic code that shuts sinners out of his world. Ferapont seems to come out of nowhere in the narrative -- maybe he's here to provide that contrast.
Theresa wrote: " I'd say the offer of money, in addition to being primarily an affront to human dignity, is also an affront to constructions of masculinity that existed in that time and place (and continue to exist)"The way I see this scene, Nikolai is undermined in his natural role as provider and protector of his family.
There is a series of failures here.
First, Dimitri humiliates him in front of his son.
Second, Katerina wants to help him. Though we have to keep in mind her reasons for doing so are not altogether altruistic.
By giving money she only underscores Nicolai's inability to provide for his family. Had she offered him a job, earning the money honestly, he could have saved face, even if everyone had known this was charity.
Third, Alyosha, being caught up in the moment, offers more help. Again, Nicolai's role as provider of his family is undermined.
Having been humiliated enough, Nicolai then vehemently rejects the money. And I don't blame him one bit. His dignity as a man was thoroughly dragged through the mud.
In Chapter 5 Dimitri leaves the Hohlachovs with this parting shot,"Good-by! I don't want your hand. You have tortured me too deliberately for me to be able to forgive you at this moment. I shall forgive you later, but now I don't want your hand. ‘Den Dank, Dame, begehr ich nicht,’ ” he added, with a forced smile, showing, however, that he could read Schiller, and read him till he knew him by heart—"
The quote is from the poem Der Handschuh - The Glove
http://germanstories.vcu.edu/schiller...
Ivan must be really ticked at Katerina at this very moment to compare her to Cunigund who deliberately toys with the live of her adorer to satisfy her own amusement.
Kerstin wrote: "Dimitri must be really ticked at Katerina at this very moment to compare her to Cunigund who deliberately toys with the live of her adorer to satisfy her own amusement. "I think you meant Ivan.
According to Ivan, his love for Katerina was not reciprocated, but she strung him along just to get her revenge on Dimitri, who had humiliated her again and again. The comparison to Cunigund was apt, if that was true.
The problem with this whole narrative is that we have no way of forming an opinion independently of the testimonies of the characters, who are biased and oftentimes unreliable. It's an interesting piece of psycho-analysis, nevertheless. The Karamazovs are all psychologists, with varying degrees of acuity.
Nemo wrote: "I think you meant Ivan."Oops! ...I made the correction...
Theresa wrote: "Jeremy wrote: "The rejection of the money is an issue of pride." ..."
I agree too. It is really a question of human dignity, but since you raise the issue of how a woman might have dealt with it,..."
Woman's honour --or pride, depends on which way one looks at it-- is well represented in the person of Katerina.
When pressed by necessity, Katerina asked for and accepted money from Dimitri, risking her honour in doing so, but she kept her dignity with her bow, which Dostoevsky writes is characteristic of Russian women, having to bear heavier responsibilities when the men of their family have stumbled.
That incident was no doubt humiliating to Katerina, but not shameful on her part. Her situation became devastating, when Dimitri in a drunken state sacrificed her, along with her 3,000 rubbles, to Grushenka.
This book seems all about pride causing pain, physical or emotionally and is a little laundry list of offenses one character has caused another. The offenses seemed to be codenamed "lacerations" or "strains" depending on the translation.1. Father Ferapont's pride in his old ways by ultra-orthodox rules seems to be offended by Father Zossima's more liberal and compassionate ways.
2. Fyodor's pride is being hurt by his age and his own lying to himself is causing him to assume everyone else lies to him and is conspiring against him and plots against Dmitri and Ivan.
3. Ilusha's pride was wounded when Dmitri beat up his father in public and he started throwing stones and bit Alyosha's finger. His own anger from his wounded pride is now making him sick.
4. Katrina's pride is so hurt by Dmitri that plans to hurt him back by remaining loyal to him and in turn she spurns Ivan's affection.
5. Ivan's pride is hurt by Katrina so he laughs it off like he does not care and plans to remove himself from the scene.
6. The Captain's pride keeps him from taking the money from Katrina as a token of forgiveness and hurts his family.
Pride seems to be a Rube Goldberg catalyst for causing physical and emotional pain. Why does it seem so important to the characters? Is pride really a bad thing?
David wrote: "This book seems all about pride causing pain, physical or emotionally and is a little laundry list of offenses one character has caused another. The offenses seemed to be codenamed "lacerations" or..."I think pride is a predominant emotion in the lives of the people you listed. How it plays out for them is not good at all, it makes their life, as we see it, miserable. But that’s what makes them what they are. Can they change it? Probably as much as a peach can turn into an apple. Tell them about a free will and they won’t listen. The pride will forbid.
I am curious what role pride will play in Alyosha’s life. Or will it be transformed into something else?
Or can it be that Alyosha has never developed the emotion of pride? Did anybody notice any expression of pride in him?
Some people say that our emotions is what makes us tick. But can one control one’s emotions in terms of shifting them from one mode into another?
Bigollo wrote: "David wrote: "This book seems all about pride causing pain, physical or emotionally and is a little laundry list of offenses one character has caused another. The offenses seemed to be codenamed "l..."Alyosha from early on seems to be uniquely humble in this respect. He quickly forgets the insults of his fellows on the schoolyard and he suffers the bite of the Snegiryov boy with some confusion, but also with compassion. Pride doesn't seem to be in his nature, or at least we haven't seen it yet.
I'm curious, Bigollo, if you can tell us anything about the Russian word that is variously translated "strain" or "laceration." "Strain" does not seem quite right in English; it seems too mild for what is going on in the Karamazov family. Is "laceration" better?
the word "strain" suggests that something is about to snap.
Thomas wrote: "I'm curious, Bigollo, if you can tell us anything about the Russian word that is variously translated "strain" or "laceration." "Strain" does not seem quite right in English; it seems too mild for what is going on in the Karamazov family. Is "laceration" better? "I've been wondering about this too. In the German translation the book's title is "Überspanntheiten", which I think captures the content a little better. The word "überspannt" literally means "over-stretched" or "over-strained." But it also can have the connotation of eccentric, hysterical, overly excited, wild, and extravagant.
A cascading sequence of superficial slights and consequences.Say that as fast as you can 10 times in a row.
Since Alyosha does not seem to be a victim of his pride like the rest, Lise seems to express the offense for him by making a big dramatic deal out of his wounded finger in her concern and care for him. I hope for her sake that this does not become the norm.
Thomas wrote: " I'm curious, Bigollo, if you can tell us anything about the Russian word that is variously translated "strain" or "laceration." "Strain" does not seem quite right in English; it seems too mild for what is going on in the Karamazov family. Is "laceration" better?"The Russian word is (in the title of the Book 4 it is in its plural form):
NADRYV [pronounced nud-RIF, second syllable stressed]
An interesting word, one of the many following same pattern: Nad + (a root).
‘nad’ is a prefix, indicating partial or superficial action.
‘ryv’ is a distorted root of the Russian word for ‘tear’ or ‘rip’.
But that’s the formal construction of the word ‘nadryv’.
Here’s how my Russian-English dictionaries define it:
Kenneth Katzner:
1) (slight) tear
2) (fig.) great effort
3) (fig.) breakdown
4)(fig.) emotional outburst
My old R-E dictionary of the Soviet era:
1) Slight tear, rent
2) (of emotional state) anguish
The Oxford Russian Dictionary:
1) Slight tear, rent
2) Strain
3) (fig.) sharp deterioration of psychological state; crack-up
4) Violent expression of emotion
And that’s the dictionaries. To my humble observation, the word ‘nadryv’ most frequently occurs as part of the idiom ‘to speak with nadryv’; the idiom even made it into a dictionary:
He spoke with ‘nadryv’ = He spoke as if his heart was breaking.
Now choose a definition to your taste. From 'pre-bitten' finger to exchange of intense monologues. Dostoyevskiy, ever a lover of pun - good luck to catch him at his tongue. :)
Theresa wrote: "the word "strain" suggests that something is about to snap."Then "strain" is a good translation, TMHO.
Kerstin wrote: ""Überspanntheiten", which I think captures the content a little better. The word "überspannt" literally means "over-stretched" or "over-strained." But it also can have the connotation of eccentric, hysterical, overly excited, wild, and extravagant."
I like this literal ‘over-stretched’ meaning.
Imagine we stretch some material in our hands. As long as the deformation is elastic, the material comes back to its original form when we release it. But if we OVER stretch, when elasticity gives way to plasticity, the process becomes irreversible, and the material will never get back to its original form. Some inner damage has been done if even the material looks as one piece. Thus what is over-stretched (in German) is equivalent to pre-torn (in Russian). See my reply to Thomas above. :)
Thanks for the language help, Bigollo. The word does seem to have some dark energy to it, and having the etymology and alternate translations gives it more depth for me.
I like that idea of "pre-torn" It is slightly different from the idea of something distressed and something different again from something that is scarred or has snapped under pressure. To be over-stretched is to be afflicted but I wonder if it means eternally afflicted and unable to heal with time?
It does suggest a soul that will be tormented for a long time after the initial injury.
Bigollo wrote: "Theresa wrote: "the word "strain" suggests that something is about to snap."Then "strain" is a good translation, TMHO."Dang, I had to go look for a definition of TMHO and couldn't find one. (my query somehow landed me on the urban dictionary definition of the word "definition" where the answers - "the definition of a definition is a definition!" - did little to ease my lexiconical angst).
In the case of Katerina, the lacerations are described by Alyosha as self inflicted. I find this a curious idea, and not wholly different from the mysterious and anguished rituals some young women put themselves through in our time - self cutting, for example.
Theresa wrote: "Dang, I had to go look for a definition of TMHO and couldn't..."
'To My Humble Opinion'
Sorry!! My bad, for I hate abbreviations myself. :)
I guess I should've said IMHO
As Father Zossima is becoming weaker, his words seem to become stronger and take on a greater category unto themselves, very much like as if Dostoevsky is suggesting through them a greater religious attitude, not just in a personal matter, but in some sort of universal sense also.Although speaking to members of the monastery in his quarters, he says:
Love one another, Fathers,.....Love God's people. Because we have come here and shut ourselves wihtin these walls, we are no holier that those who are outside, but on the contrary, from the very fact of coming here, each of us has confessed to himself that he is worse than others, than all men on earth...And the longer the monk lives in seclusion, the more keenly he must recognize this fact. Else he would have no reason to come here”
While these words themselves seem, at face value, strange. Should, in fact, a monk recognize himself as worse than others?What Zossima is saying here is nothing short of profound, in a religious sense. He is suggesting that to know oneself deeply is to recognize one's greater guilt. But of course, guilt by itself has no practical purpose. Oftentimes it is degenerative, as it is in some of the characters in our story, but Zossima explains further.
When he realizes that he is not only worse than others, but that he is responsible to all men, for all and everything, for all human sins, national and individual, only then can the aim of our seclusion be attained. For know, dear ones, that every one of us is undoubtedly responsible for all men and everything on earth, not merely through the general sinfulness of creation,but each one personally for all mankind and every individual man. This knowledge is the crown of life for the monk and every man.
What I believe that Zossima is teaching....and something which I believe is part of that which Dostoevsky was trying to say in this great work is a concept called sobornost. Sobornost is a Russian word and the concept might be defined loosely as, “a spiritual bond between a community of people.” I believe that both Tolstoy and Dostoevsky were teaching this concept.
This idea is important to introduce for a myriad of reasons, but primarily because it is a break from the intellectual dialectical conundrums of European (Continental) philosophy. Additionally, instead of celebrating the individual, this concept celebrates the community of individuals.
The Russian Orthodox church suggest that this concept is part of the deep knowledge given by God and God alone. Thus Zossima is telling us not that our guilt is the state which leads us, but it is our knowledge of our guilt which leads us to our commonality, our universal brotherhood, It is our knowledge of our guilt which moves us out of our self-absorbed solipsistic state and urges us to recognize not the horror of it all, but the glory of the possibilities we have been given by God.
So what is Zossima and, I believe, Dostoevsky asking us to do? He is asking us to follow the path of confession, humility, and seek to be pro-active with a life of love of both God and one another.... because it has been given to us by the One who has died and risen and offered it to all who care to receive it, ....essentially to actively change our lives and become part of sobornost.
Rhonda wrote: "...For know, dear ones, that every one of us is undoubtedly responsible for all men and everything on earth..."If each one of us is responsible for all men and everything, then we are not only responsible for whatever is wrong in the world (guilt), but also whatever is right and glorious -- we can take credit for and pride in the achievements of all men, great and small. I think that logically follows, but somehow I don't think that's what Zosima (Dostoevsky) has in mind.
P.S. Here is an argument against the notion of "spiritual bond", taken from The Robbers:
I have heard a great deal of twaddle about the so-called ties of blood--enough to make a sober man beside himself. He is your brother, they say; which interpreted, means that he was manufactured in the same mould, and for that reason he must needs be sacred in your eyes! To what absurd conclusions must this notion of a sympathy of souls, derived from the propinquity of bodies, inevitably tend? A common source of being is to produce community of sentiment; identity of matter, identity of impulse!
Nemo wrote: "If each one of us is responsible for all men and everything, then we are not only responsible for whatever is wrong in the world (guilt), but also whatever is right and glorious -- we can take credit for and pride in the achievements of all men, great and small. I think that logically follows, but somehow I don't think that's what Zosima (Dostoevsky) has in mind."Primarily, I don't see how taking pride in the good and just accomplishments of all men interferes with this theory. Personally, when I recognize achievements of mankind, I am proud to be a part of the mud that has had a chance to sit up and look around, (as a modern author described us.) I suspect that most others are also and, as you say, it follows that as we identify with one another, we identify with one another in one another's entirety, not just a portion.
Secondly, while I acknowledge this argument in The Robbers, (and without sounding supercilious, I am glad you are reading it,) I hope we would agree that Dostoevsky has never hinted at making this argument in any sincere way. If he has, of course, I shall be glad to listen.
My intention of introducing this concept of sobornost is that I suspect that we shall be seeing a great deal more of it as we deal with the problem of guilt and transformation. This is not an effort to provide a stamp of interpretation upon the work as a whole, but offer a different lens by which Dostoevsky's efforts may be understood.
D has already offered a redemptive view for the individual in Crime and Punishment. I am suggesting, as I have said before, that he is extending his views to the Russian state level and that is what makes the concept of sobornost both compelling and worthy of serious meditation.
Rhonda wrote: "Nemo wrote: "If each one of us is responsible for all men and everything, then we are not only responsible for whatever is wrong in the world (guilt), but also whatever is right and glorious -- we ..."Zosima mentions only "sinfulness" in connection with that responsibility, and that the monk "confessed to himself that he is worse than others, than all men on earth", but if my interpretation above is true, the monk is not worse than others, he is their equal, no better no worse.
I brought up the argument from Schiller, because it agrees with Ivan's argument that evildoing is permissible, even necessary, by denying this spiritual bond and responsibility. Zosima (Dostoevsky) doesn't offer any counter-argument to refute it, but simply asks Alyosha to "believe" his teaching instead. But one may ask, on what ground?
I appreciate your perspective, and am hoping to engage in some upbuilding dialogues.
Nemo wrote: "..... but if my interpretation above is true, the monk is not worse than others, he is their equal, no better no worse."While I beg your pardon for swatting at what may seem a minor issue, I believe this is a significant point, albeit having nothing to do with your argument, however cogent and perspicacious it may be.
According to Zossima, and, I believe, Dostoevsky himself, the issue which makes the monk worse is his concentrated focus on the connection of each and every bit of humanity from which he may neither escape nor, by himself, find redemption. He is able to focus on Godly things by being free from the everyday surroundings of the world, (having a job and a family and so forth.) Thus by daily focusing his entire life on the very issue of sin, the monk becomes much more acutely aware of how sin binds each one of us in the world inextricably in every moment of our humanity.
Thus it is only through our recognition of Christ giving His life willingly for our sins which makes redemption even possible. As a Christian, it is the monk's, (as should be any man or woman's,) desire to lose one's own self and become like Christ which makes redemption possible. It is in this way that the individual self is absorbed into the pure self of the Redeemer. This, again, is at the heart of sobornost.
Rhonda wrote: "..As a Christian, it is the monk's, (as should be any man or woman's,) desire to lose one's own self and become like Christ which makes redemption possible. It is in this way that the individual self is absorbed into the pure self of the Redeemer. This, again, is at the heart of sobornost. ..."Zosima (and Dostoevsky) may very well believe that, however, neither Christ nor the Redeemer is mentioned in the text. It is possible to believe in the spiritual bond between all men without believing in the Divinity of Jesus, as is the case with Tolstoy and the ancient Stoics. It is not clear to me what exactly "sobornost" consists in.
Classics and the Western Canon
Books mentioned in this topic
A Little Life (other topics)One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich (other topics)
."..undoubtedly guilty on behalf of all and for all on earth, not only because of the common guilt of the world, but personally, each one of us, for all people and for each person on this earth. This knowledge is the crown of the monk's path, and of every man's path on earth."
How is it that guilt leads to love? Or am I misreading this passage?
Soon after this very humble, and humbling, speech, the narrator turns to Madame Kokhlakov's exciting news about the letter from her son, which confirms the accuracy Zosima's "prophecy" and quickly the "miracle" is known throughout the monastery. The focus then shifts to the ascetic monk Ferapont, who appears to be a kind of adversary to Zosima. Is it strange that a man as humble and kind and loving as Zosima has an adversary at all, let alone that it turns out to be another monk? Or does this fall in line with what the elder says at the beginning about the monks being the least holy of all?
And those are the strains in the first chapter only. Many more to follow!