The Brothers Karamazov (Spoilers)
I just finished reading it today. For a while, I was upset with the book because the
characters were so infuriatingly contradictory. Of course, that’s part of the books charm:
it leaves so many questions unresolved. After all, in the Grand Inquisitor we are told that
the masses just want an authority to settle all of the important issues for them (such as
those evil Jesuits, as the story goes!). We have a hidden desire to obey those authorities
and keep life simple for ourselves. If the reader finds himself wanting Dostoyevsky to
make a clean ending of the novel by tying up all the loose ends, we implicitly prove his
point: we want people to make things neat and tidy for us.
I read some commentaries from the internet after I finished reading the book. In some
places, I thought, “wow. That author made an interesting connection. I didn’t see that
before.” Unfortunately, as I started writing this post, I was able to find counterexamples
in the story to even the most insightful interpretations. Therefore, even if my humble
reflections on the book won’t stand up to heavy literary criticism, I don’t mind.
On Justice: Love and Punishment
Near the beginning of the book (I think it is the part where everyone is waiting for Dmitri
to arrive for the family meeting at the monastery), Zossima is giving an account of how a
Christian state would be run says that we are all responsible for the sins of our brothers.
We have no idea what series of events led to that person’s sin, and egregious sins—
paradigmatically, murder—never happen in isolation. We are all guilty of each other’s
sins to some degree. Therefore, we should stop seeking people’s punishment and focus
more on loving those people (this all comes from the beginning of the book where
Zossima is arguing how a Christian state would be run). Ivan thinks this position is
stupid, and argues that we are all responsible for our own actions, and ours alone. And
yet, at the end of the book, he is convinced that he murdered his father because he a)
desired his father’s death, and b) could have possibly prevented it if he bothered to
connect the dots. Therefore, Zossima’s moral point seems to be affirmed. However, in
the trial, there is a ridiculous argument between the prosecution and the defense, both of
which say some very silly things. In one of the arguments, the defense lawyer tries to
blame Dmitri’s behavior on his father’s failings. The defense, in a highly incoherent
manner, says that Dmitri did not commit parricide because Fyodor wasn’t “really” a
father to him. He then argues that he should be set free because Dmitri will be eternally
grateful for it, and he will be good from that point on (the defense also maintains Dmitri’s
absolute innocence of the crime. Hence, the incoherence).
Even though both sides of this dispute are criticized, ultimately the issue seems to be
resolved in Alyosha’s character, who is portrayed as one of the few convincingly saints
that I have ever encountered in literature. It seems that if we want Dostoyevsky’s
ultimate opinion in the book, we shouldn’t look at the mindless bickering that the other
characters engage in; rather, we should observe which side Alyosha takes in these
debates.
Despite all the sins Alyosha encounters from the other characters, he refuses to judge
anyone. Everyone loves Alyosha, and Alyosha continues to love despite witnessing the
stupidity and evil deeds of many people throughout the book. Alyosha’s final exhortation
to the children is one of love: even if we are evil later in life, let us remember those
sacred times of our youth when we were good people (interestingly, Alyosha seems to
realize that he is having no luck converting adults; we should mold the youth while we
can!). Alyosha’s response to the Grand Inquisitor is summed up in the kiss: even if we
do not understand why things are the way they are, love anyway. Alyosha passes that
same advice on to the children. They had judged poor Illusha earlier in the book, but
now they mourn his death. They threw stones at him once, but now they sprinkle bread
crumbs on his grave. We shouldn’t judge others, no matter how evil they seem at the
moment (and Illusha was one bad kid when he is first presented in the book). They may
do things that are objectively wrong, but we should love them anyway.
Faith and Doubt
So many of the novel’s themes are left unresolved, but it’s obvious that Dostoyevsky
placed himself on the side of faith, truth, and morality rather than on the side of doubt.
The two religious characters in the book, Zossima and Alyosha, are perhaps the only
characters who are likeable in the entire book. Twice in the Grand Inquisitor, the
Christian side of the debate has nothing to say in response to their opponents. All they
can do in the face of charges of injustice against God is lovingly kiss their opponents
lovingly.
It’s not that Christians can’t produce rational evidence for their side of the argument;
arguing that they can’t produce rational evidence seems to miss Dostoyevsky’s point. He
argues that supernatural faith cannot be attained through reason. It requires something
extra from the individual to believe in the face of all doubt. No believer, in other words,
believes for entirely rational reasons. Indeed, despite all of the objections thrown
Alyosha’s way in the novel, he never has serious doubts.
Many atheists probably think that Dostoyevsky, therefore, is making jabs at Christians
because they cannot provide arguments in the course of the novel. While it may be true
that he does not think that Christians believe for entirely rational reasons, he is not very
kind to the atheists, either. Ivan, the paradigm of doubt in the novel, doubts everything,
including his own doubts. When he encounters the devil, he keeps trying to convince
himself that the devil is just a figment of his imagination, a product of his brain fever.
But even when Ivan seems to convince himself, he can never remove all of his doubt. He
is caught in a web of his own rationalism. He has no means of obtaining truth no matter
how hard he tries: he cannot even trust his own senses. Ultimately, whatever decision he
makes in regards to the devil’s existence is a matter of faith, not one ultimately of reason.
In addition, Dostoyevsky always frames questions about God’s existence in debates about
morality. In my mind, the question of God’s existence cannot be separated from the
moral questions posed in the novel. Even if we cannot be rationally certain that God
exists or does not exist, life requires us to make a decision: we can’t remain agnostic
about the question. Whether or not we accept or reject God’s existence has repercussions
for how we live our lives. We can, in the face of our doubts, choose to love with a
supernatural love, or we can choose to live as though all things are lawful. Again, I think
Dostoyevsky makes it clear which side he falls on by showing us what side Alyosha is
on.
In the face of accusations that if God did not exist, then all would be lawful, Ivan (and all
of the socialists in the book) keep claiming that getting rid of God will ultimately make
the world a better place. Dostoyevsky simply asks if the world which the socialists are
inventing in the novel’s Russia is a desirable place. If human nature is so depraved,
would the world really be a better place if all is lawful?
Even if the Christian side of the argument never produces and sweeping rational evidence
to justify their faith in God, truth, and objective morality, the novel ends by affirming that
the salvation of Russia will come from these things, not from the death of God. The
Christians simply continue supporting those in need, those people who create such webs
of confusion in their own lives that they are unable to escape e.g. Dmitri and Katrina.
Even if all of these evil characters seem to make Zossima’s dream for a Christian
paradise on earth untenable, neither he nor Alyosha give up hope in the future. Alyosha
keeps loving despite all hatred, and he teaches the children—the future generations—the
lessons of love which their parents have neglected.
Is this novel “agnostic”?
Finally, some people seem to think that the tone of this novel is agnostic. I can only
agree if by ‘agnostic’ we mean that the book does not give any concrete, knock-down
arguments for one side or the other, especially in regards to the God-debates. But in
another sense, saying that Dostoyevsky doesn’t take sides in this debate seems like a
difficult thesis to prove. Even if he never answers the question regarding the existence of
God, I think he comes down rather clearly on the side of Alyosha’s morality as opposed
to Ivan’s morality. But I can’t remember a time in the book when the God question was
brought up without moral questions being brought up as well. Dostoyevsky thinks that
the two questions are inextricably linked. Even if most of the nominal Christians and
full-fledged atheists may score some rational points in the book, the fruits of their actions
are shown to lead only to hatred, violence, and suffering. Meanwhile, Zossima and
Alyosha, the two unabashedly religious men, are solitary beacons of light throughout the
novel. Dostoyevsky seems to dare the reader to tell him that Alyosha’s actions are not
objectively better than everyone else’s. By the way Alyosha is portrayed, Dostoyevsky
seems to have sided with him. Therefore, even if God’s existence can’t be demonstrated
or falsified rationally, the existence of a world in which there is good and evil requires
something transcendent to establish those laws.