AP English12 Ms. De Soto Notes on Hamlet’s complex character, “Joseph Frank’s Dostoevsky,” and more notes on Notes Descriptors for our friend Hammy the Dane Calculating, introverted, contemplative, cold, uncaring, loyal, narrow-minded, forgiving (to those who seek forgiveness), impulsive, stubborn, intelligent, brooding, introspective, moody, spiteful, self-loathing, self-destructive, arrogant, hypocritical, manipulative, methodical, indecisive Wants to be a man of action, but is a man of thought to the point that he overthinks things (analysis = paralysis) Struggles to balance his father’s wishes with his emotions and morals Sees through people’s phoniness (yet can be phony himself—thus, hypocritical) Doesn’t compromise; has no regrets—doesn’t look back Has a martyr complex and is consumed by his emotions Excerpts from David Foster Wallace’s essay, “Joseph Frank’s Dostoevsky” Dostoevsky’s prose and dialogue can come off stilted and pleonastic [redundant, superfluous] and silly. Plus there’s the kind of soppy-seeming formality of the 19th-century culture Dostoevsky’s characters inhabit. When people are ticked off, for instance, they do things like “shake their fists” and call each other “scoundrels” and “fly at” each other. Speakers use exclamation points in quantities now seen only in comic strips. Social etiquette is stiff to the point of absurdity. People are always “calling” on each other and either “being received” or “not being received” and obeying rococo conventions of politeness even when they’re enraged. Everybody's got a long and hard-to-pronounce last name and Christian name - plus a patronymic, plus sometimes a diminutive, so you almost have to keep a chart of characters names. Obscure military ranks and bureaucratic hierarchies abound; plus there are rigid and totally weird class distinctions that are hard to keep straight and understand the implications of, especially because the economic realities of old Russian society are so strange (as in, e.g., the way even a destitute "former student" like Raskolnikov or an unemployed bureaucrat like the Underground Man can somehow afford to have servants). But Dostoevsky is worth the work…his novels almost always have just ripping good plots, lurid and involved and thoroughly dramatic. There are murders and attempted murders and police and dysfunctional-family feuding and spies and tough guys and beautiful fallen women and unctuous con men and sudden inheritances and silky villains and scheming and whores… Of course the fact that Dostoevsky can tell a really good story isn’t alone enough to make him great…the thing about Dostoevsky’s characters is that they are alive…not because they’re just accurately drawn types or facets of human beings, but because, acting within plausible and morally compelling plots, they dramatize the profoundest parts of all human beings, the parts most conflicted, most serious: the ones with the most at stake. Dostoevsky’s characters also–and without ever ceasing to be human and real– represent ideologies and philosophies of life. The thrust here is that Dostoevsky wrote fiction about stuff that’s really important. He wrote fiction about identity, moral value, death, will, sexual vs. spiritual love, greed, freedom, obsession, reason, faith, suicide. And he did it without ever reducing his characters to mouthpieces or his books to tracts. His concern was always what it is to be a human being – that is, how to be an actual person, someone whose life is informed by values and principals, instead of just an especially shrewd kind of self-preserving animal. More Notes on Notes from the Underground I am a sick man…I am a spiteful man (Garnett) I am a sick man…I am an angry man (Coulson) I am a sick man…I am a mean man (MacAndrew) I am a sick man…I am a wicked man (Pevear and Volohonsky) Because the narrator of this story is a thoroughly disagreeable person who seems to go out of the way to offend his readers, some care is needed to read the story well. First, it is important to keep in mind that the Underground Man, as he is traditionally called ("UM" below) is not Fyodor Dostoyevsky, as the notes at the beginning and end of the story make clear. He shares some of Dostoyevsky's ideas, but he is also the target of Dostoyevsky's satire. Dostoyevsky enjoyed handicapping himself by placing some of his favorite arguments in the mouth of a character he despised. In this and in other works, he strongly resists the impulse to sweep the reader away by making his views irresistible. He wants you to be aware of both their strengths and weaknesses, and make your mind up independently. Second, although some readers find that they are identifying with the UM to some extent, unlike most popular fiction, this is not a story in which you are expected to identify with the narrator. The danger is, in fact, that the reader will become so exasperated with his tone and manner as to simply refuse to pay attention what he is saying. Consider the UM as a complex portrait, lacking surface appeal, but filled with fascinating detail which reveals itself only upon close examination. Third, it is crucial not simply to let the UM's self-contradictions cancel each other out and dismiss him as a madman whose ravings are not worth deciphering. It is precisely in the tension between various emotions and ideas that significance of the UM's narrative lies. (from Washington State Professor Paul Brian’s website) Existentialism: Generally speaking, Existentialism involves the attempt to make meaning in a chaotic world. It reflects a struggle to define meaning and identity in the face of alienation and isolation. It proposes that a person is full of anxiety and despair, just simply existing, until he/she makes individual choices about his or her world view and the individual’s role in the universe. This decision-making is essentially the only way for a person to achieve real dignity as a human being. Prominent Themes in Existentialist Literature: Life is miserable and/or “unfair.” Good is not necessarily rewarded; neither is bad necessarily punished. Individuals are alienated even from themselves. This happens because human society tends to be distractingly complex, technological, and bureaucratic. The individual suffers alienation and the loss of identity as a result of the labels that people tend to use when describing others. Importance of the individual and personal choice: Individuals are free to choose how they will react to the world. The term “authenticity” has particular significance here; if an individual is living “authentically,” he/she is not conforming to a predetermined set of behaviors dictated by societal expectations or an objective notion of morality. On the contrary, his/her path is unique to inner callings. Also, believing in determinism (fate) is another major cause of inauthentic actions. Because individuals are free to choose their own paths, they must accept full responsibility for their actions. In short, there is no “higher power” to guide you or give you the answers—you are totally, terrifyingly alone and responsible for your own awesome or crappy life, according to an existentialist perspective. To deal with this overwhelming responsibility, to ward off depression, and to fight despair, you must “force your life to mean.” (I got that last bit from The Van Gogh Blues by Eric Maisel) NOTE: There is such a thing as Christian existentialism, and Dostoevsky is the forerunner. It argues that the individual is free to make his or her own decisions, yet the consequences of those decisions are determined by a higher power. Nihilism, two definitions. #1: a social doctrine developed in 19th century Russia that called for the eradication of existing social, religious, and political institutions, including prevailing ideas of morality, justice, and private property. This type of nihilism endorsed only the truths of science. #2: the view of life that sees all existence, including that which rests on a faith in science, as empty and meaningless. Much of modern literature exhibits an attempt either to overcome or to validate this nihilistic vision. Some modern writers defiantly assert their nihilism, while others view it as the ultimate challenge, the experience of total negation that must be endured in order to emerge with an affirmation of life, however qualified an affirmation it may be. (from Edward Quinn’s Dictionary of Literary and Thematic Terms) Questions for reflection and discussion: 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. Why is the Underground Man (U Man) nameless? What or where is the underground? Is the U Man as intelligent as he thinks he is? Why or why not? How do you determine “intelligence”? Why does the U Man call man “the ungrateful biped”? What motivates the U Man? What is his goal? What does he want? Is the U Man so out of control that he doesn’t seem to have free will anymore? Elaborate. The U Man claims, “I cannot get on without domineering and tyrannizing over someone.” Do all relationships involve power struggles? Is true equality ever possible? 8. At the end of Notes, the U Man asks, "Which is better—cheap happiness, or exalted sufferings? Well, which is better?" Well…. which is better? Which does Notes defend? 9. Will the U Man ever leave the underground? Is there any glimmer of hope or redemption for this character? Why or why not? 10. What’s the takeaway with this book? So the U Man has problems, so what? Do I contradict myself? Very well, then, I contradict myself; (I am large -- I contain multitudes.) --Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass “There’s always going to be a part of me that’s sloppy and dirty, but I like that.” --Tiffany Maxwell, Silver Linings Playbook (novel by Matthew Quick; screenplay by David O. Russell I had a teacher I liked who used to say good fiction’s job was to comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable. I guess a big part of serious fiction’s purpose is to give the reader, who like all of us is sort of marooned in her own skull, to give her imaginative access to other selves. Since an ineluctable part of being a human self is suffering, part of what we humans come to art for is an experience of suffering, necessarily a vicarious experience, more like a sort of “generalization” of suffering. Does this make sense? We all suffer alone in the real world; true empathy’s impossible. But if a piece of fiction can allow us imaginatively to identify with a character’s pain, we might then also more easily conceive of others identifying with our own. This is nourishing, redemptive; we become less alone inside. --David Foster Wallace (italics added)