Classics and the Western Canon discussion

I have been wondering up to now what made so many people say this was such a great novel. Book 5, however, is turning things more right for me, and I wonder whether for others.

Alyosha's analysis of why the captain threw away the notes made me realize, with Lise, "Ah, Alyosha, how do you know all this? So young and yet he knows what's in the heart....,"

And we are getting a much deeper look at Lise (who seems to be split between love, represented by Alyosha, and despair, by Ivan) and our first real look at Smerdyakov as a person and not a caricature.

And then the Grand Inquisition focuses on the central issue Dostoevsky has been exploring throughout of the many aspects of religion and irreligion.

There is so much in this book that for me is finally getting to the centrality of the ideas and the people.

Yes, from the moment Alyosha and Ivan sit down together and talk – after a lot of to-ing and fro-ing by Alyosha – the book does start to feel more substantial and less plot-driven. I've re-read Rebellion and The Grand Inquisitor a few times now and noticed it's also dense with literary references, to classics like Shakespeare's Hamlet and Dante's Divine Comedy, and great authors such as Flaubert, Hugo, Schiller and Pushkin. It's almost as if Dostoevsky is staking his own claim here for literary immortality.

I now need to go back and finish Book 5. I got stuck on a loop of re-reading Rebellion / Grand Inquisitor while away on holiday; trying to grapple with these big ideas, in amongst building sandcastles with the kids at the English seaside, made for an unproductive combination.

Dave wrote: "....trying to grapple with these big ideas, in amongst building sandcastles with the kids at the English seaside, made for an unproductive combination. ..."

:-) Dave, I should think perhaps the combination might well be more productive than wrestling solely with the big ideas.... !

Ivan's monologues in these chapters become a little overwhelming. It's like opening a completely overstuffed closet and then all the stuff tumbles about you and you try to sort it out, and before you can catch your breath Ivan leaves. And here you are, left with the mess.

I am with Alyosha,

“Why are you trying me?” Alyosha cried, with sudden distress. “Will you say what you mean at last?”

Ivan says he will, at least in this instance, but in the end it is up to the reader to figure out what Ivan dumped on us. Are the endless questions asked to be pondered or just given rhetorically?

I know, after reading the last pages of Book 5, the modern reader may think that Ivan is suffering from bipolar disorder. Could be. Nonetheless, up to this point, I can identify with Ivan more than with anybody else in the book. At least, I can understand his feelings well, I think. Ivan’s impracticality always loses against his father’s and especially Smerdyakov’s practicality. He is desperately trying to make any sense out of what we call life, and he can build complicated theoretical constructions in his mind (although, I agree with Kerstin – he mumbles a lot too), but when Ivan confronts men like Smerdyukov, he’s almost hypnotized by them and blurts out not at all what he was going to say. The frustration only makes him make more mistakes.

What is going on in Alyosha’s soul so far is a bigger mystery to me, except for just saying he’s a born kindness to everybody.

Dmitri says that Ivan is a grave; Alyosha says he is a riddle. I can see him both ways. His despair is evident but it's hard to see exactly where it comes from. I can't tell if he harbors dark thoughts because of his world view, or if his world view is a product of his natural darkness. It seems to be a problem similar to the Church/State conundrum in Book 2 -- it's hard to tell in his analysis where one begins and the other ends.

Thomas wrote: "Dmitri says that Ivan is a grave."

Did they translate that so literally?
Hmm… I remember Dmitri mentioned that twice. First time in the summer-house, right?
The thing is - there is an idiom in Russian: When we say that a person is a grave, it means that we can trust that person with a secret, the secret will stay with him/her. For instance, it could be said: ‘Nobody knows that but Ivan, and he is a grave’, meaning that nobody else will ever know.
But now a doubt seized me, maybe I misread it, maybe the idiom was beside the point. I don’t have the text handy. I will have to double check.
But having said that, no question, Ivan does have some dark grave struggle in his disposition.

Bigollo wrote: "But now a doubt seized me, maybe I misread it, maybe the idiom was beside the point"

I don't think you misread it. The context of the first occurrence is just what you said - the person can be trusted to keep quiet. I think in my version it was translated "tomb." Isn't there an old idiom in English that's similar - something like, "As quiet as the grave" to indicate you won't tell a secret?

Bigollo wrote: "The thing is - there is an idiom in Russian: When we say that a person is a grave, it means that we can trust that person with a secret..."

That makes sense -- Ivan is closed off, holding some kind of secret. And a riddle also holds a secret. So then, what is the secret? Instead of speaking plainly to Alyosha he tells an intricate story about a Grand Inquisitor lecturing Jesus. Is the secret within the allegory?

Thomas wrote: "Bigollo wrote: "The thing is - there is an idiom in Russian: When we say that a person is a grave, it means that we can trust that person with a secret..."

That makes sense -- Ivan is closed off, ..."

I don't have the text by me but I think the first mentioning 'Ivan is a grave' by Dmitri had something to do with the affair with Grushenka.
And a Grand Inquisitor story, at this point at least, sounds to me as some sort of a thought experiment. But still, the riddle remains with the story and with Ivan. Grand Inquisitor may take some rereading for me. I think I got the gist of it; although, we may have to read to the end of the book to get all the secrets revealed. With all the brothers. They all are riddles to me, including Smerdyakov, if even the most primitive one.

The Grand Inquisitor starring John Gielgud.
https://youtube.com/watch?v=om6HcUUa8DI

(Gielgud's interpretation looked like a parody to me. What do others think?)

What stuck to me most in this chapter was the theological discussions. A couple of things stood out for me:

-In Ivans' reasons for not accepting the worldview of the christians (i.e. he accepts god but not the idea of a for god just world) he repeats the argument that loving humanity as a whole might be doable, but loving your neighbour is practically way harder to achieve. In all stories it is the neighbour (in Dutch it is 'naaste', which literally means someone close by) that hurts the children. This argument is mentioned earlier in the book, where a theoretical 'humanity', which can be perfect, is placed against the reality of 'humans', who are all flawed.

-another thing that occured to me is that Ivan seems to contradict (I don't know if that's the right word) himself here. He states that he will prove why he can't accept the world of god (or christians), but he will limit himself to children, which he states, will make it harder. Later it turns out that the fact that the people mistreated in the examples are childeren, which are according to him, still innocent, that makes it impossible to accept the idea of forgiveness. Besides the question when a child stops being inherently innocent, one can ask wether, if these situations happened to adults, would his argument be so convincing?

-a third thought I would like to mention has to do with the story of the Grand Inquisitor. There's a lot to say about this piece (I know for a fact that the short story itself is material for university courses), but what struck me was his argument about freedom: he basically says most people can't live with freedom and just want others to tell them how to live their lives, so the ideal of freedom, although nice, has to be abolished in order to achieve happiness for the masses.
I immediately had to think about the abolition of serfdom in Russia (1861-1863). The novel takes place just after this abolition. Although I'm not sure about it, it did make me think if this argumentation is also aplicable to the institution of serfdom. This must mean Ivan thinks the abolition of serfdom, i.e. the freeing of the masses, will bring nothing more than misery to Russia.

Marieke is right, this section is heavy on the theology. I felt like I needed a Bible open in front of me to read the context of the multiple allusions, especially to the book of Revelation.

But there's also quite a bit of philosophy in this section too. In chapter four Ivan brings up theodicy, or how can a just and loving God allow evil and suffering. And then Ivan presents a series of atrocities committed against children. As a father of two small children this was a difficult section to read. But then again, there's hardly anything new here. We read in the American papers almost daily of horrific abuse against children. As uncomfortable as Ivan's stories make us as readers, Ivan himself appears to be in distress in this chapter too. He wants to make sense of the injustice in the world. He says, "I want to be there when everyone suddenly understands what it has all been for." Ivan may be a skeptic, but he's a skeptic of the Russian variety. He can't completely renounce his faith. He can shake his fist in God's face and say 'I reject you!' but he can't say he denies God's existence.

One of the traditional answers to suffering is that God will make all things right in the end. Either the joys of Heaven will so overshadow the suffering we experience on earth, or when we no longer "see through a glass darkly" we'll understanding that "all things work together for the good," even when babies have their brains blown out in front of their mothers. But Ivan rejects this answer. He doesn't want to wait to see things work out. He tells Alyosha, "While there is still time, I hasten to protect myself and so I renounce the higher harmony altogether." The suffering is too great here - there's no atonement for it. So it's not that Ivan doesn't believe in God, it's that he doesn't believe God is good, and therefore rejects Him even while acknowledging His existence.

Of course the typical response from Christians is that there is atonement for sin and all the suffering in the world through Christ. Alyosha tells Ivan, "But there is a Being and He can forgive everything, all and for all, because He gave His innocent blood for all and everything." And on that note Ivan begins his story of The Grand Inquisitor.

As Marieke noted, The Grand Inquisitor is often taught independently from the novel. And while that's one way to approach the story, as a separate entity, I'll try to examine the story in its context.

One of the first things I noted is that this is a story within a story. That's an interesting technique in itself, though it goes back to Chaucer (and beyond). What caught my attention is that Ivan doesn't plunge into his "prose poem" and not stop until he's done. Alyosha pulls him up more than once to ask questions. The first problem for Alyosha is trying to place the story within a genre. He says, "I don't quite understand, Ivan. What does it mean? ... Is it simply a wild fantasy, or a mistake on the part of the old man - some impossible qui pro quo?" Alyosha is trying to find the rules of interpretation. Ivan's response is interesting. He says, "If you like it to be a case of mistaken identity, let it be so. It is true." Is it true because that's how Ivan intends the story to be understood, or is it true because that's how Alyosha is constructing the meaning of the story? Ivan later says that Alyosha concerns are irrelevant - all that matters is that the Inquisitor should be able to speak after ninety years. So we have the characters in our story discussing the characters in Ivan's story, but Ivan is telling Alyosha don't overthink this - just listen to what my Inquisitor has to say. But this statement is somewhat ironic considering Ivan told Alyosha at the outset, "Even this must have a preface - that is, a literary preface." But when Alyosha does approach the story as literature, Ivan basically says never mind that - pay attention to what he says! Even so, we're reminded once again that these are characters in a story when Alyosha breaks in later and says, "Is he ironical, is he jesting?" Clearly Alyosha is having a difficult time understanding the Inquisitor. What I found interesting about these exchanges is that they pull us up out of the story as if to remind us that we too are reading a story. Dostoyevsky employs this device (meta-fiction, or taking down the fourth wall) in an earlier scene where Alyosha and Lise are discussing the unfortunate captain. Lise asks, "... aren't we showing contempt for him, for that poor man - in analyzing his soul like this..." And yet that's exactly what we as readers are doing - analyzing the characters "souls." Is Dostoyevsky asking us to be generous to his characters?

Having situated The Grand Inquisitor within the context of the novel, I'd like to point out a few details that caught my attention. This section is dense, so I won't make any attempt to be exhaustive. As Marieke stated, one of the ideas that runs through The Grand Inquisitor is that people can't handle freedom. In the Gospels Jesus says things like, "Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free" (John 8:32 NIV). And "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light" (Mt 11:28-30 NIV). Jesus, in the New Testament, doesn't see freedom as a burden. In fact, I would argue that one of the ideas that runs through the whole NT is that Christ has come to set us free - free from the OT regulations and most importantly free from sin. But that's not how the Inquisitor sees it. He says he's been to the desert and tried on this freedom and it's unbearable. It's too much to handle. People want to be sheep. (It's interesting that the NT uses this same metaphor). Some men may be able to handle freedom, but most can't. Jesus, according to the Inquisitor, is an elitist. He wants to save the few. In another example of biblical literalism, the Inquisitor takes the passage in Revelation about 144,000 being saved literally. In contrast, the Church cares about everyone. They love them so much that they'll even let them keep their sins. It's an interesting argument. But, returning to the fact that this is a story and the Inquisitor a character, how much do we trust the ideas of a man who the day before had murdered 100 people?

Jeremy wrote: ".... Alyosha tells Ivan, "But there is a Being and He can forgive everything, all and for all, because He gave His innocent blood for all and everything." ..."

I sometimes wish Alyosha (or Zosima who taught him) had elaborated on this point. It is the only place in the whole dialogue between Ivan and Aloysha that actually touches on theology. Everything else is psychology.

Nemo wrote: "Jeremy wrote: ".... Alyosha tells Ivan, "But there is a Being and He can forgive everything, all and for all, because He gave His innocent blood for all and everything." ..."

I sometimes wish Aly..."

Is "sacrifice" an underused or distrusted concept in our modern world? Or is that simply a poor question to pose in the context of TBK?

Nemo wrote: "I sometimes wish Alyosha (or Zosima who taught him) had elaborated on this point. It is the only place in the whole dialogue between Ivan and Aloysha that actually touches on theology. Everything else is psychology.
..."

I'll have to disagree with you there. The whole section is steeped in theology and theological controversies. I'd have to reread the section, but I think I could find at least twenty biblical references or references to theology in the chapter. For example, near the beginning the story, in what I take to be the "literary preface," Ivan says:

"But the devil did not slumber, and doubts were already rising among men of the truth of these miracles. And just then there appeared in the north of Germany a terrible new heresy. 'A huge star like to a torch' (that is, to a church) 'fell on the sources of the waters and they became bitter.' These heretics began blasphemously denying miracles."

This small section alone is dense with theology. First, I think the "terrible new heresy" refers to Luther and the beginning of the Reformation. I say this because Wittenberg, where he is said to have written his thesis, is in the north of Germany. Also, the poem takes place 15 centuries after Christ, so the timing is right. Next, the line beginning "A huge star..." is from Revelation 8:10 which reads, "The third angel sounded his trumpet, and a great star, blazing like a torch, fell from the sky on a third of the rivers and on the springs of water..." (NIV). This heresy, the Reformation, is being connected with the judgment described in Revelation. It's interesting to connect the Reformation with the judgment because elsewhere the Inquisitor seems to accept the role of the Beast in Revelation, which was typically a slander leveled by the reformers against the Catholic church. Finally, the Inquisitor said they were denying miracles. At this point we may not have textual support, but I suggest that he is talking about the Mass. The reformers denied the miracle of transubstantiation, though Luther didn't stray too far with the doctrine of consubstantiation. But Zwingli, who argued the bread and wine are only symbols, thoroughly rejected the Catholic teaching of a miracle connected with the Eucharist.

Anyway, it might take a small book to go into all of the theology brought up in The Grand Inquisitor. I'll at least try to catalog some of the references.

I should add that denying miracles can apply to many other things as well. The reformers rejected the saints and probably by extension any miracles they were reported to have performed.

Jeremy wrote: "Nemo wrote: "I sometimes wish Alyosha (or Zosima who taught him) had elaborated on this point. It is the only place in the whole dialogue between Ivan and Aloysha that actually touches on theology...."

I understand what you're saying, Jeremy, but I was using the word "theology" in the narrow sense of the term, "the study of the nature of God". Biblical references are not theology per se, neither is the allusion to the Reformation, or "mystery".

Lily wrote: "Is "sacrifice" an underused or distrusted concept in our modern world? Or is that simply a poor question to pose in the context of TBK?"

It wouldn't surprise me if the Grand Inquisitor proclaims that he too has sacrificed himself for mankind. It seems to be part of the irony of Ivan.

Nemo wrote: "but I was using the word "theology" in the narrow sense of the term, "the study of the nature of God"

I'll have to look over the section again to see what fits your definition, but I've never seen theology defined so narrowly. Theology includes doctrine. Is Summa Theologica theology? The Institutes of Christianity? Church Dogmatics? A systematic theology? If so, then those all contain, or are even primarily a discussion of doctrines like communion/the Lord's Supper/The Eucharist. I agree that not every biblical reference in the text is necessarily theology, but if doctrine is outside of the scope of theology then I don't understand how you're using the term.

I wonder if responsibility, or rather irresponsibility, is a theme here? We have already decided Fyodor and Dmitri, diven by their passions, are both selfish and irresponsible in their lifestyles. At least Dmitri seems to have a somehow developed a conscience that seems to nag at him a little.

Now, with Ivan's long explanation of his world view, we hear he just wants to live until he is thirty and then "dash the cup to the ground." If he is implying suicide with those remarks, then Ivan too is behaving selfishly and irresponsibly with his life.

Care may be needed in assigning any irresponsibility to Alyosha. He is quite childlike and children are generally absolved from having much responsibility until they are older. However Alyosha is not a child but in some ways Lise seems to be more responsible than he is. Joining a monastery seems an intended or unintended way of escaping certain responsibilities, too. Perhaps Father Zosimma is sending him out into the world specifically to become more responsible.

Now we shall have to wait to see which of these irresponsible acts are fatal, which are forgiven, and why.

Nemo wrote: "It wouldn't surprise me if the Grand Inquisitor proclaims that he too has sacrificed himself for mankind. It seems to be part of the irony of Ivan."

I think you are absolutely right.

"But we shall tell them that we are Thy servants and rule them in Thy name. We shall deceive them again, for we will not let Thee come to us again. That deception will be our suffering, for we shall be forced to lie."
~The Grand Inquisitor

Dostoyevsky, Fyodor. The Brothers Karamazov (p. 171). BookMasters. Kindle Edition.

Jeremy wrote: "Nemo wrote: "but I was using the word "theology" in the narrow sense of the term, "the study of the nature of God"

I'll have to look over the section again to see what fits your definition, but I'..."

Would you agree that theology in the narrow sense is the foundation of theology in the broad sense? But I suspect the distinction between consubstantiation and transubstantiation is not what Dostoevsky had in mind when he wrote TGI. I'd be more than happy to discuss it if you can provide textual support. :)

Nemo wrote: "I'd be more than happy to discuss it if you can provide textual support"

Like I said, I can't prove it with certainty, but I was making a guess based on the comments about the reformers denying miracles.

As to the narrow sense of theology being the foundation of the broader sense... Yes? I guess? Actually, I don't know, because I'm not sure how you're defining "narrow sense." You said "the study of the nature of God," but that still seems broad. Are you suggesting that the atonement is part of the narrow sense, but the sacraments aren't? I feel like I'm not understanding you. It's as if we were discussing literature but you wanted to exclude poetry from the conversation. But maybe you're suggesting that there are some "essential" doctrines that make up the narrow sense of theology. What would those be? Is there an objective standard for deciding? Maybe there's a source that defines the narrow sense that I'm not familiar with.

Turning back to the text, I see The Grand Inquisitor as a scathing rebuke of the Catholic Church, so any distinct Catholic doctrines like transubstantiation or an eschatology that identifies the Church as the Beast of Revelation should be in play when discussing the theology of Ivan's story. So Dostoyevsky certainly could have had in mind a Reformed understanding of the Eucharist versus the Catholic understanding. But we don't know what he was thinking. Limiting the conversation to the text, we have the Reformation being labeled a heresy, which I think means any doctrine where the reformers took a stand against Rome is part of the conversation.

Jeremy wrote: "Turning back to the text, I see The Grand Inquisitor as a scathing rebuke of the Catholic Church."

The Russian Orthodox Church has much in common with the Catholic Church, in terms of both doctrine and practice. So it is not exactly clear what characteristics of the Catholic Church are being rebuked here. I don't think we can assume that it is their distinct doctrines, because diversity is not perversity.

In my atheist years, the Catholic Church was to me no different from the Russian Orthodox or the Reformed Church, or any other organized religion. They all stood for "mystery" and "authority", that is, superstition and oppression. Is it not possible that the atheist Ivan thought along similar lines? After all, the one thing that is spoken of again and again by the Inquisitor is "freedom".

Jeremy wrote: "As Marieke noted, The Grand Inquisitor is often taught independently from the novel. And while that's one way to approach the story, as a separate entity, I'll try to examine the story in its conte..."

Wonderful analysis, Jeremy. This episode is indeed dense, and there is a lot to discuss, but your comments on freedom and the responses have me thinking.

There is an interesting passage in Book 2. Madame Kokhlakov is complaining to Zosima about her lack of faith -- not faith in God, but in life after death. Zosima tells her that this can be cured by "active love." She responds that she cannot love selflessly; she is unable to love those who don't return her love with gratitude. Zosima then tells a story about a certain doctor who says,

"I love mankind, but I am amazed at myself: the more I love mankind in general, the less I love people in particular, that is, individually, as separate persons. In my dreams, I often went so far as to think passionately of serving mankind, and, it may be, would really have gone to the cross for people if it were somehow suddenly necessary, and yet I am incapable of living in the same room with anyone ever for two days... As soon as someone is there, close to me, his personality oppresses my self-esteem and restricts my freedom..." 2.4

In the scenario that the Inquisitor presents, most people are happier when they are oppressed because freedom is an immense burden. Everything is permitted for those who have freedom, definitions are dissolved, and life loses meaning. Only those who submit to another's moral code, or enter into a covenant with God, or some other similarly limiting agreement with an "other," can be happy, but they do this by giving up their freedom. For someone like Ivan this is impossible. Is this what Rakitin meant by a "Karamazov conscience"?

Nemo wrote: "The Russian Orthodox Church has much in common with the Catholic Church, in terms of both doctrine and practice. So it is not exactly clear what characteristics of the Catholic Church are being rebuked here. I don't think we can assume that it is their distinct doctrines, because diversity is not perversity."

I think the animosity towards Rome Dostoevsky puts in BK stems from the Great Schism of 1054, where both churches excommunicated each other. There is a long and complicated history. But in a nutshell, it started with the "filoque debacle" in the 4th century. Basically, in the Nicene Creed, which was the product of the Council of Nicea (325) and Constantinople (381) in response to Arianism - the heresy that denies the divinity of Christ, in the definition of the Holy Spirit the Latin version has the added word "filoque,"

We believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the giver of life, who proceeds from the Father and the Son

Whereas the Eastern Churches only say,

"who proceeds from the Father"

At the time, Arianism was widespread and a very serious threat to Christianity, so the Pope wasn't too concerned over semantics over the definition of the Holy Spirit. He claimed primacy, and for him the issue was settled. The Eastern Churches felt snubbed, as they (rightly) claimed this should the decided in council. Things were strained from then on until things snapped in 1054.

This mutual excommunication was lifted in 1965, but we are still not in full communion with one another. Talks have been underway over this for some time, and more recently both Pope Benedict XVI and Pope Francis have been eager to mend the rift. Sticky points still remain, such as the primacy of the Pope from one side, or getting the various Orthodox Churches to speak with one voice from the other side...but we are closer than we've been for centuries :)

So yes, in terms of apostolic succession, Eucharist and all 7 sacraments, priests, liturgy, etc. Catholics and Orthodox are much closer than Catholics are to Protestants. But politics always have and always will muddle things up!

Kerstin wrote: "This mutual excommunication was lifted in 1965, but we are still not in full communion with one another. ."

Thanks for the short history lesson. It's bittersweet to hear that two prodigal brothers finally reconciled after not speaking to each other for half of their lives. :)

Jeremy wrote: "we have the Reformation being labeled a heresy, which I think means any doctrine where the reformers took a stand against Rome is part of the conversation.

The Reformation challenged the authority of the Pope and the powers of the Catholic Church. The Grand Inquisitor, who represented a part of that establishment, labeled the Reformation heresy to marginalize it and deprive it of any influence over the people. I don't see it as any different from the behaviour of the Pharisees of Jesus' time. In fact, there are striking similarities between Dostoevsky's portrayal of the Inquisitor and Jesus' rebuke of the Pharisees.

The Pharisees supplanted the word of God with their own commandments, the Inquisitor did the same, presuming they were wiser and stronger than God, and became the self-appointed saviour of the world. In that regard, they were no different from the socialists, the revolutionaries of France, the proponents of the Enlightenment, and, basically, every human being.

The Grand Inquisitor, speaking as the devil's advocate, confronts Jesus, not only reenacting the Temptation of Christ, but also dramatizing the theme: "God and the devil are fighting there and the battlefield is the heart of man".

"Now, with Ivan's long explanation of his world view, we hear he just wants to live until he is thirty and then "dash the cup to the ground." If he is implying suicide with those remarks, then Ivan too is behaving selfishly and irresponsibly with his life."

In my Dutch translation I believe the words are 'drink/empty the cup". This is a common expression indeed sugesting suicide and referring to Socrates who had to empty a cup of poison.

It is interesting how Ivan celebrates his newfound freedom from wooing Katrina, but then has such a hard time with existential freedom.

Marieke wrote: " 'drink/empty the cup". This is a common expression indeed sugesting suicide and referring to Socrates who had to empty a cup of poison.."

Thanks, that helps. I wasn't sure what he meant.

It's not that I don't accept God, you must understand, it's the world created by Him I don't and cannot accept.
~Ivan Karamozov
Dostoyevsky, Fyodor. The Brothers Karamazov (p. 160). BookMasters. Kindle Edition.

Ivan is not at all the atheist his reputation so far has indicated he was, but a theistic existentialist who has not learned to cope with the burdens of freedom.

Existentialism is not atheist in the sense that it would exhaust itself in demonstrations of the non-existence of God. It declares, rather, that even if God existed that would make no difference. . .

. . .Dostoevsky once wrote: “If God did not exist, everything would be permitted”; and that, for existentialism, is the starting point. Everything is indeed permitted if God does not exist, and man is in consequence forlorn, for he cannot find anything to depend upon either within or outside himself. He discovers forthwith, that he is without excuse. For if indeed existence precedes essence, one will never be able to explain one’s action by reference to a given and specific human nature; in other words, there is no determinism – man is free, man is freedom. Nor, on the other hand, if God does not exist, are we provided with any values or commands that could legitimise our behaviour. Thus we have neither behind us, nor before us in a luminous realm of values, any means of justification or excuse. – We are left alone, without excuse. That is what I mean when I say that man is condemned to be free."

Jean Paul Sarte, Existentialism Is a Humanism, Lecture givin in 1946

Sarte also seems to describe Fyodor and Dmitri in an existentialist frame as well, as Father Zossima pointed out.

. . .any man who takes refuge behind the excuse of his passions. . .is a self-deceiver. . .The self-deception is evidently a falsehood, because it is a dissimulation of man’s complete liberty of commitment.

Jean Paul Sarte, Existentialism Is a Humanism, Lecture givin in 1946

Bigollo wrote: "I know, after reading the last pages of Book 5, the modern reader may think that Ivan is suffering from bipolar disorder.

I'll admit to reading quickly (trying to catch up), but his upbringing made me think he had been the luckiest of the K brothers. Now this lecture indicates demons. It's disappointing.

Oh my word! This book is certainly heating up. So many of the things that Ivan and Alyosha discuss, (well, hardly a discussion) are thoughts that I wrestle with. Ivan is a lonely soul, I think. He's almost like a child throwing his toys out of the pram. He puts Alyosha to the test, as if he is saying "do you STILL love me? Even now?"

David wrote: "It is interesting how Ivan celebrates his newfound freedom from wooing Katrina, but then has such a hard time with existential freedom."

That is interesting indeed -- but he plans an even bigger "celebration" when he turns 30. I think Hilary is right -- he is like a child throwing his toys, except he's not a child. Both his behavior and his philosophy are a function of his outsized ego.

David wrote: "..For if indeed existence precedes essence, one will never be able to explain one’s action by reference to a given and specific human nature; in other words, there is no determinism..."

Even if existence precedes essence, it doesn't follow that there is no determinism, because existence itself is a determined state. If what is meant by freedom is a state without order or constraint, then man is not free, because his existence depends upon order, and all the physical and chemical bonds that hold him together. But, since most of us don't feel constrained by our own existence, the freedom we desire is not the lack of order and constraint, imo.

Hilary wrote: "..He puts Alyosha to the test, as if he is saying "do you STILL love me? Even now?" ..."

That is true. Ivan desires to be understood by Alyosha, who cannot truly love him without knowing him, his doubts, struggles and all. Ivan perceives that Katerina doesn't really love Dimitri, but only a fantom image of her own conceit. He doesn't want this kind of "love" for himself.

Zippy wrote: "Bigollo wrote: "I know, after reading the last pages of Book 5, the modern reader may think that Ivan is suffering from bipolar disorder.

I'll admit to reading quickly (trying to catch up), but ..."

I've never thought of Ivan as having demons, but he does seem like someone whose intellect is in overdrive, but only spinning his wheels all the time. I suppose he is far from alone, judging by the popularity of The Grand Inquisitor.

Nemo wrote: "Zippy wrote: "Bigollo wrote: "I know, after reading the last pages of Book 5, the modern reader may think that Ivan is suffering from bipolar disorder.

I'll admit to reading quickly (trying to ca..."

Yes, book 5 does seem to reveal some "demons". Ivan's sleepless night, combined with his sudden hatred and feelings of violence toward smerdyakov, tells us there is quite a lot going on below the surface of Ivan's personality. Despite his enthusiasm for self examination, there are forces motivating him that he can't quite seem to own up to.

I also get the feeling he is trying to morally "corrupt" his naive younger brother. There is something sinister about his desire to unload all of this onto Alyosha. If that is true, and combined with what Ivan says he believes, he must on some level despise Alyosha for his apparent innocence.

Personally, I think innocence is a virtue.

If not a virtue, then at the very least, shallow innocence seems a healthier state of mind than existential angst.

Theresa wrote: "...his sudden hatred and feelings of violence toward smerdyakov,.."

Do you feel a creeping, shrinking sensation, when you see the slithery, gliding, venomous serpents, with their deadly eyes and wicked, flattened faces? That's how Smerdyakov impressed Ivan, and yet he couldn't get out of personal dealings with him.

During their meeting, Ivan told Smerdyakov that he was a "terrible scoundrel", and a day later, whispered to himself, "I'm a scoundrel". That is to say, he saw Smerdyakov in himself, as in a mirror.

Nemo wrote: Even if existence precedes essence, it doesn't follow that there is no determinism"

It absolutely does in the sense that there is no single predefined pattern that we must fit into. We live our lives, and that in turn defines what we truly are.

I must admit I am not a fan of the use of the term "determinism" here myself. I think the idea that we didn't come with a plan in mind, especially when one considers the first part of the quote, "one will never be able to explain one’s action by reference to a given and specific human nature One could argue that evolutionary psychology has made inroads into this statement as well. But the point is that humanity is condemned to be free because it did not come with a manual and is able to do anything that is possible for it to do. Furthermore, humanity is alone burdened with the responsibility for the consequences of its actions.

Or if you prefer one could sum up our abilities, consequences, and responsibilities this way:

How to Use Christian Freedom
23 “·We are allowed to do all things [L All things are lawful/permissible],” but not all things are ·good for us to do [profitable; beneficial]. “·We are allowed to do all things [L All things are lawful/permissible],” but not all things ·help others grow stronger [L build up; 24 Do not look out only for yourselves. Look out for the good of others.
1 Corinthians 10:23-24Expanded Bible (EXB)

Now Ivan's article has made a case for more humane religious based control and criminal reform over civil control and punishments. However, Ivan's Grand Inquisitor exposes the lie the religious controls and criminal reforms are based on. I think Ivan's question has become, is this lie justified? The Grand Inquisitor thinks it is but the Prisoner's kiss and modern theodicy's free will defense seem to agree that that free will is more important than removing evil.

David wrote: "Nemo wrote: Even if existence precedes essence, it doesn't follow that there is no determinism"

It absolutely does in the sense that there is no single predefined pattern that we must fit into. We..."

So you believe man has fee will? If so, at least we agree on something. :)

If there are no predetermined values, why does Sartre say "condemned", why not say "man is blessed to be free"? Apparently he is making a value judgment without realizing it. When you say "Ivan has not learnt to cope", you too are implicitly making a value judgment.

I think Ivan's emotional turmoil after meeting with Smerdyakov is because Ivan has become complicit in the possible murder of his father. When Smerdyakov greets Ivan he basically says, "Don't you think you want to get away from here for a while? (wink wink)." Smerdyakov has become the only person that Fyodorovitch trusts. But Smerdyakov has given the code to the secret knocks to Dmitri. Smerdyakov knows that both the other servants will be indisposed. And he "predicts" that he's going to have a violent fit, which he does. At the same time Grushenka "will come without fail" that night. So Smerdyakov has orchestrated everything so that Dmitri will have access to his father and no one else will be under suspicion (except maybe Grushenka?) - as long as Ivan leaves town. (Alyosha is at the monastery). By leaving Ivan is giving his tacit approval to Smerdyakov's scheme. If something happens to Fyodorovitch then Ivan will have to deal with the guilt of knowing he could have prevented it. If nothing happens then he still has the guilt of knowing he took actions to let it happen. Earlier in the book Ivan shocks Alyosha: "'Why should [God] forbid?' Ivan went on in the same whisper, with a malignant grimace. 'One reptile will devour the other. And serve them both right too'." Ivan seems to be okay with a passive desire for Dmitri to kill his father. But now that he's taken a definite action that will allow it he really does see himself as a "scoundrel."

Hi Nemo.

I have only just skimmed through many of the comments, but I noticed your video clip with Sir John Gielgud. I'm not sure if that has been picked up on so, although I have little to say about it I should like to say a couple of words on the subject.

I think that John Gielgud is a fine actor though, as with Laurence Olivier, he is (was) much more of a stage actor. Hence his speech tends to appear to be booming when it comes to TV or film. Most of his career was spent, very successfully, on the stage (for which he was awarded a knighthood, I believe - I mean I believe that it was for his stage acting in particular. I do not question whether or not he received one!). Stage acting, as you know, often requires larger movements, expressions and very clear diction. It is often difficult for such an actor to make the transition from stage to screen.

As The Grand Inquisitor Gielgud, I think, might appear to parody the role as you have suggested. This is largely owing to a career seeped in the theatre. I found his characterisation to be quite chilling though I think that it worked for me as I kept the stage acting idea in the back of my mind. I kept marvelling at his ability to remember all those lines. Yes, it is true that there may well have been many 'cuts' which is to be expected in such a demanding role. I certainly wouldn't wish to meet him on a dark night! Thank you for sharing the link.

Hilary wrote: "Hi Nemo.

I have only just skimmed through many of the comments, but I noticed your video clip with Sir John Gielgud. I'm not sure if that has been picked up on so, although I have little to say a..."

I agree, Hilary, that Gielgud is a fine actor, and didn't mean to imply otherwise. I've only seen him on screen --there was a time when he seemed to appear in every British film, and he has screen presence even in very minor roles. I remember him most as King of France in Becket alongside Peter O'Toole and Richard Burton.

As for his role as the Grand Inquisitor, his entrance made me want to laugh at the character's pomposity and awkwardness. whereas I thought the character in the novel was more dignified to the human eye, but equally chilling.