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ladyofmelk · 2 days ago

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[ENG] The Great Inquisitor speech — I Fratelli Karamazov (1969)

I'm slowly translating the whole drama so here's a snippet of one of the most iconic scenes

IVAN: Alyosha, brother!

ALYOSHA: Ivan!

I: If you’re looking for Dmitri he’s not here, I’m not sure he will come at all. C’mon, sit down! It’s the best surprise you could ever give me. What can I get for you? Fish soup, something else?

A: The fish soup is fine, I’m very hungry! I’ve been looking everywhere for Dmitri, but with no results.

I: They make an excellent cherry preserve here, I recall you loved it as a child. Do I get it for you?

A: You remember?

I: And tea, of course. I remember everything about our childhood. Everything.

Sweetheart, you are unrivalled in chants.

When you sing, the air is silent.

All the boys are by the window

And they can’t find peace in their hearts.

Everything. Until I left for Moscow, and then… It’s surprising that you appeared here tonight out of the blue and we can chat together. I was just thinking: I’ve been home for four months, and I’ve never really had a talk with Alyosha. There were glances, yes. A lot of them. Well, here you are! I want to get to know you once and for all. Yes, get to know you. Then we’ll part ways, because I’ve decided to leave for Moscow.

A: You’ve decided?

I: Yes, I must… get away from here. You know me, Alyosha.

A: I love and admire you. Dmitri says you’re a tomb.

I: Don’t mind Dmitri now. What about you?

A: Well, I say you’re a riddle. But starting from now I can say that I’ve begun to understand you.

I: What do you mean?

A: Don’t get mad, but only today I’ve understood how young and lively you are, how much you love life! Ivan…

I: I’m struck by a coincidence… Today, as I was parting from her, I couldn’t help but think about my youthful greenness. And now, as if you’ve guessed it, you’re telling me the same thing. Good job! Yes, I love life very much, I have a great will to live - and I live! If I didn't believe in life, if I lost faith in the woman I love, if I were struck by the worst disillusionments - still I should want to live and, having once drawn from the cup with my lips, I would not turn away from it till I had drained it! At thirty, though, I shall be sure to throw it away, even if I've not emptied it, and turn away… where I don't know. But until then, my youth will triumph over every disillusionment, every disgust with life. It's a feature of the Karamazovs, it's true, that thirst for life regardless of everything; you have it no doubt too, but why should it be disgraceful? We have a will to live, and I go on living in spite of logic. The sticky little leaves in the spring, the blue sky - that’s what I love! Reason has nothing to do with this, one loves these things from their core, with their blood.

A: I think everyone should love life above everything in the world.

I: Ah. Love life more than its meaning?

A: Love it, regardless of logic, and only then one will grasp its meaning.

I: I wasn’t wrong, it’s very good here. C’mon, eat! You know, I like this… profession de foi from a novice like you. It seems like you’re inspired.

A: Even now?

I: Yes, even now. There’s the force of life. In front of some good food one can forget the tragedies of existence, if they don’t affect us too closely.

A: Do you really want to leave so soon?

I: Yes.

A: What will Dmitri and father do? How will it end?

I: What do I have to do with this? I can’t be their keeper forever, my business here is done and now I’m leaving. If only you knew how relieved I feel… I’m tasting my first hour of freedom. Six months and then, all at once, I’ve released myself of such a burden.

A: Is this about your love, Ivan?

I: Love? Yes, if you will. I tormented myself over her… And she tormented me as well. But now everything’s over at once, and leaving her doesn’t pain me.

A: Then perhaps it wasn’t love.

I: Ah, don’t rack your brains over love, Alyosha. It’s not for you! Just now, at her house, you were wonderful, and I haven’t even kissed you yet!

A: Do you really want to leave tomorrow?

I: Tomorrow morning, perhaps. But why are you so upset over my departure? What we have to tell each other, what we came here to say, we’ll surely have time to talk about it. Answer me, why are we here? To talk about my love for Katerina? Or about dad, or Dmitri?

A: No, it’s not for that.

I: So what? Alyosha, why have you stared at me for three months and kept waiting? To ask me this question: brother, what do you believe in? If you believe at all! Isn’t that what our anxious looks were trying to say?

A: Yes, you’re right.

I: Alyosha, take a good look at me: I’m a young man like you, exactly like you. I’m not a novice, that’s the only difference. A large part of our youth is talking about nothing but eternal questions now, isn’t that right?

A: Yes, for real Russians these problems come first and are the most important. And that’s good.

I: So, what shall we start with?

A: Yesterday, at father’s, you said God doesn’t exist.

I: I said that on purpose to tease you and I saw your eyes glow. But now I’m happy to discuss it with you. I want to be friends with you, Alyosha, for I have none and want to try. Well, only fancy, perhaps I too accept God. Does it surprise you?

A: Yes, of course. Unless you’re joking now as well.

I: I accept God, and I don’t question His existence. I believe in His wisdom, His purpose which is utterly unknown to us. And I believe in the eternal harmony in which they say we shall one day all be merged after forgiving who offended and humiliated us. I accept it and I believe. Yet my rebellion starts here, because there’s something I can’t accept: the suffering of humble people, of the innocents, of the poor in spirit, of children! Cruelty towards small, innocent children - I’m taking them as an example so that my point is clear. Men can be tormented and punished, perhaps unfairly, but then again we bit - even better, we tasted the forbidden fruit. We knew good and evil. We can endure it, but we could’ve done it as well. Children don’t. They’re not guilty of anything. So why? Alyosha, I know you love children. Then how can you accept that they suffer painfully on earth, why? Why? How is their suffering part of that harmony? What kind of harmony is one that includes the suffering of children? No, Alyosha, then I reject this harmony, I refuse to be part of this harmonic world. I don’t deny its existence, but I hasten to return my ticket in the most respectful way possible.

A: This is a rebellion.

I: No, don’t say that… It’s an exception, not a rebellion! Listen up, imagine being called to build the great building of human fate to finally make men happy: bread for everyone, peace, freedom, order… But to get this you must torment a small creature of three, four, five years old. Tell me, would you accept to build your kingdom of well-being and peace on the sufferance of that one innocent child? Answer honestly.

A: No, I wouldn’t.

I: And you can tolerate that the men for whom you’re building that structure can accept the benefit coming from that innocent blood to then be eternally happy?

A: No, I can’t. However…

I: Tell me, Alyosha.

A: There is a creature who can forgive and has every right to do so. You have forgotten, but the building is grounded on him.

I: Christ? The only one that’s pure of sin. No, I haven’t forgotten. In fact, I was surprised you hadn’t mentioned him before. I say “Christ” and my soul’s already splitting, because Christ is a contradiction, you know that very well. My heart is moved by his name, but my mind is full of questions… Don’t be upset, brother, deep down I’m still at peace. Did you know that I wanted… No, I want to write a poem, almost a play, on Christ?

A: Really? What kind of poem? Can you tell me?

I: Yes, I want to. Here’s the title: I’d like to call it “The legend of the Great Inquisitor”! It should have a historical background, think the times of the Holy Inquisition, when they burned heretics in Spain… The background will be historical, but the events, the ideas… They will be modern. Even better, it could be the tragedy of my conscience, divided, lacerated between Christ and the doubts of my mind. Even us modern men call upon Christ sometimes, like heretics sent to the stake by the Inquisitor surely did too.

A: Do you call upon him as well, Ivan?

I: Imagine I do, and he comes back. That’s how my poem begins.

A: With his second coming?

I: Yes. He comes back looking like a regular man, just a face in the crowd, and nobody in the square of the Cathedral of Seville recognises him.

A: It’s wonderful! Your Christ is already among us but no one sees him, because we can’t recognise him anymore. Amazing!

I: Wait, Alyosha. In the beginning no one recognises him. But there’s something indescribable that catches a person’s attention, and it only takes one saying “It’s Him! Christ is back!” for the crowd to surround him like a wave. There’s no doubt, everyone shouts “It’s Him! Christ is back! Do what you want with us, we’ll follow you to the end of the world!”... Do you like the beginning? It’s something that could happen in the modern day as well, in your monastery.

A: Go on, Ivan.

I: Yes. So they recognise him and shout. But suddenly a man dressed in purple appears in the churchyard of the Cathedral of Seville. He frowns at the crowd and asks: “Who is he? Why is he here? Seize him and lock him in the Holy Inquisition’s prisons!” Then Christ is imprisoned. Everyone has bowed their heads to the Inquisitor, no one has lifted a finger to defend Jesus.

A: But why did he come back?

I: “Why art Thou come to hinder our order, our peace?” the Inquisitor asks him when interrogating him that night. “Why art Thou here?”

A: Did He return to grant men the true freedom of the soul?

I: Yes, that’s right. I think Christ will reply what you just said. I like it. Freedom! Men have paid dearly for freedom. They’ve been fighting for centuries to be free. I’ll tell you something, Alyosha: I have persuaded myself that man doesn’t actually want to be free. Instead, he wants someone far more powerful and able to whom he can entrust his freedom. Someone who can manage it and lift from him the responsibility of making a choice day after day, time after time, of his own volition. Someone who can decide for him - that’s what man wants. And that’s how the Great Inquisitor will answer.

A: That’s how an evil spirit talks! Christ has always rebelled against those who suggested he stripped man of his freedom!

I: I know that very well. But what for? When the devil asked him to turn stones into bread, why did Christ rebel?

A: Because true freedom can’t be bought with bread! Remember how he replied? “Man shall not live by bread alone.”

I: Yet we’ve been fighting in the name of this earthly bread for centuries! What do men care about freedom? Feed them, then we’ll talk about freedom, love, peace. If Christ had turned stones into bread, everybody would’ve followed him and his kingdom would’ve come much quicker! But Christ refused in the name of Truth and Heavenly Bread!

A: Don’t be so superficial, Ivan! Christ has always told men to gain their earthly bread together!

I: Then He needed to give a great example, stones turned into bread!

A: When Christ refused that miracle, he acted fiercely, like a real god!

I: Yes, I see that, and my Inquisitor does too. Fiercely like a real god, you’re right, Alyosha. But men don’t understand that, because they are no god! Do you really think human nature can go without miracles? You believe man can suffocate his desire to be guided by someone far more powerful on whom he can unload his responsibility for long? You don’t know men at all, Alyosha. They’re weak, and enslaved, that’s why they turned away from Christ… to follow us.

A: Us who?

I: Us! …I got caught up in my own play so much that I replied like I was the Inquisitor myself. Yes, men turned away from us, because they don’t need freedom nor love, but a powerful Church founded on miracles and mystery and authority, and show them which way to follow blindly! That is why we allowed men to sin, from time to time: so that the awareness of their weakness didn’t lead them to desperation. And from now on, it will be us who’ll allow men to live with their wives or their lovers. It will be us who will allow them to have children or not! And everything will be ruled by us, as the times change. And they will kneel to us, ever so obedient and grateful!

A: But you, Ivan… You all… Don’t you feel the responsibility of their lives? Don’t you quiver at the thought of hiding the truth?

I: Yes, we feel a terrible responsibility!

A: Then how can you keep on living peacefully?

I: Who tells you we live peacefully? It’s us, the few elected ones, that are the most unhappy, because we keep the secret of the truth. But isn’t it better to doom a few, rather than strip millions of weaklings of their peace and happiness? “Just know that I, too, was ready to bring men the Christian message of freedom and love; but I gave up, as I realised it was an impossible ideal for common men, so I left the proud ones for the weaks - to guide them according to a law that was suited to their fragility. And I declare…” These are the last words the Inquisitor speaks to the Wandering Christ, “I declare that I will keep on correcting your work, and tomorrow I will burn you, because you have hindered our order. Yes, tomorrow I will burn you, because you deserve the stake more than anybody else! Tomorrow I will burn you down. Dixi.”

A: It’s absurd! Your poem praises Jesus, it doesn’t condemn his actions! No one will believe your definition of freedom, that’s not how freedom of the soul should be interpreted, no! That’s how the worst of Catholics, the inquisitors, think! Your Inquisitor, with his suffering, is nothing but a ghost. No, your Inquisitor doesn’t even believe in God! That’s his secret.

I: So what? That’s why he’s so great. Isn’t it a tragedy - the story of a man who desperately loves humanity in his own twisted way, without believing in God?

A: Ivan, you don’t believe in God… How does your poem end?

I: The Inquisitor lurks in the shadows of the prison, but Christ doesn’t let him get away. He steps forward and kisses him on the mouth. The kiss burns the Inquisitor’s lips, and he says: “Begone, and never come back.” And he lets Christ roam free in the dark alleys of the city. The prisoner turns away.

A: And the Inquisitor?

I: The kiss stings, but he didn’t change his mind.

A: And you too, right?

I: I told you! When I’m 30 I will throw away the cup!

A: And your thirst for life, the sticky leaves, the blue skies? How will you keep on living? How can you love something with such troubles in your heart?

I: Listen, Alyosha, there’s a force that wins over everything.

A: What force?

I: The Karamazovs’! The terrible Karamazov sensuality!

A: So, steeping in vice?!

I: That too, but I’ll try to avoid it.

A: How will you do it if you have those ideas?

I: Again, I’ll do it the Karamazov way!

A: So everything is permitted, right?!

I: Brother, as I was leaving… I thought at least you were on my side. But now I see that there’s no place for me in your heart as well. “Everything is permitted” - I stand by that! You’ll be the one to disown me for this, one day

[kiss that somehow passed the censorship]

This is plagiarism. It’s a literary theft! You stole this kiss from my poem! Alyosha, I just need to know that you’re somewhere out there not to lose my lust for life. Take it as a love confession, if you will. Now go! This conversation is over. You turn right and I turn left. You’re going to your pater seraphicus on his deathbed, and I’m going home to prepare for my departure.

A: When will I see you again?

I: I have no idea. Perhaps in a few years. I promise you this, Alyosha: when I see things more clearly, I’ll discuss them with you, wherever you are. It’ll be very interesting to see where you’ll be, too. We’ll meet again when times are ready. It’s a serious promise. Now go.

A: Another kiss…

I: No. Like this. Goodbye.

A: Poor Ivan… When will I see you again?

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ladyofmelk · 3 days ago