#this post is so looooong i knew it would be that's why i've been avoiding it

[sad-eyed-lady-of-the-paperbacks]

Thoughts on 1.4

This is extremely belated, but here we go!

As usual, if I don't indicate the translation, assume it's my favourite McDuff.

"An early lover of mankind" - This phrase, as noted in the endnotes of both Pevear & Volokhonsky's translation as well as McDuff's, is commonly used in the Orthodox faith as an epithet for Christ. However, McDuff provides the additional context that "during the 19th century, because of overuse by 'progressive' Russian thinkers and journalists, it acquired the character of a cliché.

It is not the religious institution that appeals to Alyosha, nor even necessarily the doctrine in particular. It is this one admirable man, the Elder Zosima, and Alyosha's own desperate striving out of the murk toward the light. He doesn't just admire Zosima, he loves him. And love is a defining characteristic of Alyosha.

Although he treasures his one memory of his mother, it is a very troubling and sad memory. Poor, poor Sofia. And I can't help but wonder if Ivan was also present on this occasion, if he also remembers it. Perhaps he remembers more of the context that surrounded it, and thus the impression it left on him was very different? We'll likely never know, because as private as Alyosha is, Ivan is even more so.

Alyosha seems to have a complete faith and trust in people, and he is quick to forgive, but it's not because he is "either naive or a simpleton" (P&V). He is tolerant and refuses to condemn or judge anyone. He's saddened when he encounters, for example, his father's depraved lifestyle, but this sadness comes without the slightest bit of condemnation or contempt. Reading all of this and also about how readily he forgives and how slow he is to take offense reminded me of the famous description of Love found in 1 Corinthians 13:4-7.

Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

(English Standard Version)

That bit about "believes all things, hopes all things" is particularly interesting to me. Believing the best about each person until proven otherwise, continuing to hope the very best of each person even when they have disappointed you before, and not from naïvety or stupidity, but because you truly love them—it is remarkable. The fact that this seems to come rather naturally for Alyosha shows how deeply and sincerely this love must run in his heart. I don't think I really took time to ponder this on my previous readings.

It is no great credit to Fyodor that he loves Alyosha, because everyone loves Alyosha and it's not hard to love someone who shows love to you and doesn't judge you. But it is something. It's the first remotely redeemable thing we've seen about Fyodor so far, so we'll take it.

We learn of another interesting feature that characterises Alyosha: this "savage, frenzied modesty and chastity" (or "wild and frantic", P&V). We've formed a picture of this very pleasant, tolerant, peaceful young man, so to hear that there is anything savage or frenzied about him is quite a surprising juxtaposition. Is this indicative of an inner struggle against the "black smear" indicated in the Karamazov family name? The "darkness of wordly wickedness" (P&V) that his soul is struggling to escape from?

Side note, but in an era where children were being hardcore romanticised as these perfectly pure and angelic beings, and this was heavily reflected in literature, the realism of the way Dostoevsky portrays children is always so surprising and refreshing to me. Through his narrator, Dostoevsky here depicts the reality that children absolutely do talk and joke amongst themselves about shockingly filthy things, and know way more than adults think they do, while at the same time making clear that they are innocent. The fact that both things are true—I'm just impressed by this depth and nuance.

Ivan is hard-working and determined to support himself rather than rely on others, which on the one hand is admirable, but on the other hand comes from a place of self-conscious pride; he is embarrassed and almost resentful of the generosity shown to him. He is focused on himself, and that makes it painful to accept the kindness shown to him. Alyosha is selfless, so it is easy for him both to give and receive generosity and kindness without a thought, and money means nothing to him. He shares this with Mitya, to whom money also means nothing, though Mitya grew up with a certain sense of entitlement that Alyosha lacks. And while Alyosha at times seems not to know how to spend money, that's never a problem for Mitya, and we can absolutely guarantee that when Alyosha does spend his money, it's not on the pursuits Mitya squanders his money on, which Alyosha, without condemning, would definitely blush at and never himself engage in.

Literally everyone loves Alyosha, even Miusov has nice things to say about him!

Another thing Alyosha has in common with Mitya is that he did not complete his studies at gymnasium. No one is surprised that Mitya dropped out after being abandoned and neglected, passed around from relative to relative, and acting out and getting into trouble in the stereotypical-foster-kid way. But Alyosha's reasons are rather more mysterious.

To heap further insult upon all of the insult and injury dealt to poor Sofya Ivanovna in her life, Fyodor Pavlovich doesn't even remember where she's buried. Couldn't even be bothered. In fact, he couldn't even be bothered to give the poor woman any kind of grave marker. If it was up to him, she would be completely forgotten in an unmarked grave. But Grigory—remember Grigory, the servant? The only one in Sofya's entire tragic life who ever stuck up for her and had her back? Grigory shows Alyosha where the grave is, and not only that, but this man paid for her grave marker and inscription with his own surely-meagre funds.

I don't know what to make of the fact that Alyosha never went back to his mother's grave. This seems to lend further weight to the narrator contesting Alyosha's claim that visiting his mother's grave was the sole reason for his visit.

We have some more antisemitism in this chapter, unfortunately, and I'm not going to address that again.

Fyodor Pavlovich was already the worst, but he has somehow managed to get worse? Now he's even more outrageous, insolent, and determined to play the buffoon. His drinking has also worsened, through which Grigory continues to be the real MVP.

Alyosha's resemblance to his mother seems to trouble Fyodor, perhaps even pricking his conscience somewhat. And then, when Alyosha visits the grave, it seems to have possibly moved Fyodor in some way? Fyodor proceeds to donate a thousand roubles (a TON of money!!!) to the monastery, but not in the memory of Alyosha's mother Sofya, but instead, in that of his first wife, Adelaida Ivanovna, Mitya's mother. I'm really not sure what we're to make of this. If he didn't have such affection for Alyosha, I would think he did it on purpose to hurt him (if it was flip-flopped and he'd done it to Mitya, I would absolutely believe that was the case). But even though he afterwards gets drunk and ends up talking crap about the monks to Alyosha, I don't think he would have done that on purpose to hurt him. Our narrator summing this up by saying that "Strange bursts of sudden emotion and sudden ideas are common in such types" feels infuriatingly inadequate, but alas, that's all we're getting!

Fyodor's physical description is so viscerally unpleasant. Props to Dostoevsky for making me feel physically ill.

Fyodor acknowledges himself as deserving to get dragged to hell by hooks, going so far as to insist that justice demands nothing short of this, and that if there weren't hooks they would have to be invented just for him. But this conviction is obviously not enough to get him to change his ways. (Shame, fear, and guilt always being rather poor motivators, after all.) Alyosha's quiet, earnest statement, "But there aren't any hooks there," is, I think, meant to be reassuring, but I also think he sincerely believes it. As the narrator will state in the next chapter, Alyosha is a realist. And we have an indication here that he does not lean into that punitive, condemnatory, fire-and-brimstone style. After all, if there are any hooks, Jesus didn't warn anyone about them, let alone threaten anyone with them.