INTRODUCTION TO FYODOR DOSTOYEVSKY
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BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF DOSTOYEVSKY
Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoyevsky was born October 30, 1821 in Moscow, the second son of Mikhail, a physician at the Maryinski Hospital for the Poor. The family belonged to the hereditary nobility and possessed a small country estate worked by some one hundred âsoulsâ as serfs were then called. Late every spring the family left Moscow to spend the summer there.
After Fyodor completed his secondary education, his father sent him in 1838 to St. Petersburg where he entered the College of Engineers, a military school run by the Czar. Although he studied hard and in general made a good impression on his teachers, the young cadet was in constant financial straits. Always writing home for more money, he describes his âterrible plightâ in the most urgent terms. When money came, though, he celebrated its arrival with a huge banquet and drinking party for his friends, or gambled it away shooting pool. He was generous to the point of self-destruction. When his brother Mikhail was married, Fyodor sent him one hundred fifty rubles. Two weeks later he was broke again, begging him for five. This inability to manage his finances persisted throughout his life. In fact, he was nearly always on the brink of bankruptcy.
Despite his ups and downs in Petersburg, the twenty-three-year-old Dostoyevsky became so attached to the city that the mere thought of living elsewhere was unbearable for him. So when he learned that he was about to be posted to the provinces, he resigned his commission and resolved to support himself by writing. In 1846 Poor Folk was published and immediately became a best seller. The young author was lionized as the new Gogol, received into the best houses, and became the object of unrestrained praise. The novel is a brilliantly written though sentimental story about the destructive effects of poverty. In quick succession there followed The Double (1846) and a collection of short stories under the title White Nights (1848).
About this time Dostoyevsky became seriously ill, both mentally and physically. Poor, quarrelsome, the victim of unpredictable fevers and convulsions, he soon alienated his admirers as well as his editors. Furthermore, since his erratic behavior was put down to personality rather than to the illness that it was, he was frequently laughed at, jeered, and mocked. Turgenev, for instance, so despised him that he would engage him in conversation merely for the pleasure of torturing him. Still, Dostoyevsky was reckoned among the most promising young writers of the day. Unfortunately, his literary career was suddenly interrupted by a remarkable incident that was the direct consequence of his political involvement.
Sentenced To Death
Ever since the Decembrist revolt in 1825 it had become fashionable for men of learning to promote social reform. Revolutionary manifestoes were printed abroad, smuggled into the country, and widely distributed. Czar Nicholas I, however, was determined that there would be no revolution in Russia under him. Censorship was severe and many domestic and foreign authors were banned. The penalties for revolutionary activity were increased, and government spies were everywhere. Notwithstanding, Dostoyevsky joint a group of political rebels who met every Friday evening at Mikhail Petrashevskyâs apartment. Here they discussed different political trends, plotting revolution on the side in a rather harmless way. All the same, the government became suspicious. The members of the circle were arrested, brought to trial, and Dostoyevsky, along with several others, was sentenced to death.
Finally, on a cold winter morning after a miserable stay in prison, the future author and his co-conspirators were driven to their place of execution. There, tied to stakes, the unlucky men faced the firing squad. However, as the soldiers were given the order to aim, a horseman suddenly appeared riding full tilt across the square. He bore a letter from the Czar commuting all the death sentences to prison terms. The entire affair was prearranged to frighten them and others of their kind into submission to the Czarist regime.
âTo Live, No Matter Howâ
Needless to say, Dostoyevsky was profoundly affected by this brief encounter with death. So much so in fact that the theme of the condemned man appears on countless occasions in his letters, articles, and novels. Among the most forceful passages describing the condemned manâs state of mind occurs in Crime and Punishment when Raskolnikov says: âSomeone condemned to death thinks an hour before his death that if he had to live on a steep pinnacle or on a rock or on a cliff edge so narrow that there was only room to stand, and around him there were abysses, the ocean, and everlasting darkness, eternal solitude, eternal tempests - if he had to remain standing on a few square inches of space for a thousand years or all eternity, it would be better to live than to die. Only to live, to live, to live, no matter how.â
Dostoyevskyâs will to live was severely tested by the Czarâs verdict. He was sentenced to four yearsâ hard labor in Siberia followed by another five as a common soldier in a penal battalion. The years of physical hardship, loneliness, and the study of the Bible, the only reading allowed the prisoners, completely changed the authorâs way of thinking. In both religion and politics he turns into an outspoken conservative, a staunch supporter of the Czarist regime, and the Russian Orthodox Church. He becomes convinced that an Orthodox Christian will, of his own accord, subject himself joyfully to the will of God. Furthermore, by some mystic fiat, a true Russianâs political strivings will miraculously coincide with the will of the Czar Emancipator. These attitudes form the basis of Dostoyevskyâs dialectical thought and ultimately determine whether his heroes are saved or destroyed.
Thus when in 1859, ten years after his arrest, Dostoyevsky is permitted to resign from the army and return to Petersburg, we meet a changed writer, but not a less productive one. Shortly after his release he publishes an account of his imprisonment, Notes from the House of the Dead (1860). This is followed by the short novel The Insulted and the Injured (1861). He even tries his hand at journalism, successfully editing his own paper. Unfortunately, his troubles with the regime are not over. His journal, Vremya, is considered subversive and ordered closed. Disgusted, Dostoyevsky decides to leave Russia for Europe.
In Wiesbaden he won a large sum of money which allowed him the luxury of an affair with the beautiful, charming, and intelligent Polina Suslova. They toured Europe together visiting all the âinâ places until he lost his money. Possessing a destructive passion for gambling, he could not keep away from the casinos. On several occasions he lost everything and had to write friends in Russia for the fare home.
The novel The Gambler (1866) is a thinly veiled autobiographical account of this trip. The book is also the third major work in the most productive period of his life which begins in 1864 with the publication of Notes from Underground. During the next sixteen years Dostoyevsky worked feverishly, producing among other things five major novels and The Diary of a Writer. In addition, he maintained a voluminous correspondence with friends, acquaintances, and various admirers who wrote for advice.
Marriage And Fame
Dostoyevskyâs existence changed for the better with his marriage to Anna Snitkina, his secretary. Among her many qualities was a good business sense that enabled her to offset her husbandâs inability to manage his finances. There were trips abroad and every summer the family rented a small cottage in the country. Dostoyevsky could now truly enjoy his fame as one of Russiaâs leading authors and was finally able to write at his leisure.
Yet Dostoyevskyâs health was always bad. Since his return from Siberia he suffered from epilepsy and these attacks increased with alarming frequency in the 1860s. During the worst period the fits came once a month and so exhausted him that he needed several days to recover. In addition, he contracted tuberculosis in the 1870s which, together with lung cancer, precipitated his death January 28, 1881.
ST. PETERSBURG: DOSTOYEVSKYâS BAD DREAM
The background of many of the authorâs stories, Dostoyevskyâs St. Petersburg seems to be a flat, featureless wasteland. Its buildings lack character and its streets are dismal alleyways rarely touched by daylight. To Dostoyevsky, St. Petersburg seemed often so unreal that he was haunted by the prospect that it was simply someoneâs dream and that upon awakening everything would disappear leaving only the marshes and lakes. Others had felt likewise before him. When Peter the Great realized his ambition to build a city upon the Finnish marsh, the peasants living in the vicinity thought that it had been pulled down from the sky. It is only fitting that in such a city human activity is subdued. There is no hustle and bustle in Dostoyevskyâs city streets, nor do we find the comforting noise of people going about their daily business. Rarely anything takes place in open daylight. The city seems to be condemned to perpetual twilight through which Dostoyevskyâs characters hurry to their non-descript lodgings.
Thus, Dostoyevsky never describes a city in the manner of Balzac. In fact, he had an antipathy toward any kind of description of buildings or landscapes, saying that he had better things to do than waste time over creating word pictures. Consequently, he draws the barest outlines and leaves the reader to fill in the details. From another angle, this method is all the more effective because it allows the reader to create his own image of the city.
We could say that the author conceives St. Petersburg like a map. He chooses a location and then strictly adheres to its dimensions. In Crime and Punishment, for example, we know exactly where Raskolnikov lives, how many paces to the moneylenderâs house, and how far it is to the police station. Often Dostoyevskyâs favorite places are the ones he personally knows. Central to Crime and Punishment is Haymarket Square close to which the author lived for many years. An unbelievably filthy quarter, it is the gathering place of thieves, prostitutes and the like. Surrounding the square are the stalls from which are hawked all manner of merchandise of use only to the destitute. Leading off the square are trash-filled alleyways bordered by pothouses and bodakings of the worst kind. Like Raskolnikov, Dostoyevsky loved to wander aimlessly about the place filling his lungs with the fetid air as if he were inhaling the essence of being. Still, precise descriptions of the place are absent. The scenery resembles a rather hastily erected stage set. Yet, we sense it as real because the characters are real, often uncomfortably so.
NOTES FROM THE UNDERGROUND
TEXTUAL ANALYSIS
In a footnote to the title the author remarks that though the diary is fictional, the person described therein âmust existâ given the conditions of contemporary society.
Comment: This prefacing remark is significant because it shows that Dostoyevsky did not regard the case of the underground man as a curious anomaly whose interest lies in its rarity. He thought of the âundergroundâ as representative of the state in which many persons must live in modern society. This condition is not typical of the Russian masses, but it is similar to the lot of many among the intelligentsia. In fact, he later asserted in his notebook that the chief merit of the Notes was that it laid bare the reality of this particular Russian type, exposing âits disfigured and tragic side.â
The narrator introduces himself as a sick, unattractive, and spiteful man. He knows he should consult a physician about his illness, a liver ailment, but he refuses to do so out of spite. He knows this is illogical: he is punishing himself instead of the doctors; yet he will not seek medical aid.
Comment: At the very beginning, Dostoyevsky wishes to illustrate the contradictions inherent in the self. The Classicists usually described types as characters consumed by one desire, often one obsessive consideration. The Romantics were the first to suggest the width of the scale of emotions possessed by a person. Realism, the next literary school, accepted the fact of manâs complexity but tried to explain it in scientific terms. Dostoyevskyâs aim is to prove that manâs character does not lend itself to scientific scrutiny. We shall analyze this later in greater detail.
He is now forty years old. He used to be a civil servant. He was always grumpy and contemptuous of those asking for information, even though most of these were poor, timid people. There was an officer, however, who would not be humbled, but kept clanking his sword.
Comment: The underground manâs age coincides with Dostoyevskyâs. Moreover, they both were at one time in the civil service and left it on their own.
But the worst thing about it all was that, though he always acted spiteful, actually he was not an angry, not even an embittered man! He was lying when he said at the start that he was a spiteful official. He was lying out of spite. In actuality, he was conscious of many stirrings in himself diametrically opposed to anger while he was acting spiteful. But he was ashamed to admit to anything else than rancor.
Comment: So far, we have seen that he was more than merely an embittered person - he had, simultaneously, other emotions which for some reason he would not acknowledge. This would mean that his self is wider, more complicated, and can even simultaneously contain contradictory elements. In other terms, the person is richer and more complex than one usually admits.
Was his problem then, he asks, that he could not make himself angry? No, it was more serious. He could not become anything, neither mad nor kind, neither a hero nor an insect.
Comment: Thus, beyond the fact that the person exists on a wider scope than we imagine or pretend, he confronts a more basic difficulty, that of not being genuinely anything. Unlike the protagonist of Franz Kafkaâs famous Metamorphosis, he does not have the consolation of being able to define himself as a cockroach: he cannot even say he is an insect.
What is the narratorâs lamentable condition due to? The reason is this: an intelligent man cannot become anything in earnest; a nineteenth-century intellectual is condemned to be a characterless creature.
Comment: Here we have the key to his predicament: it is intelligence. But why does he claim that intelligence prevents us from defining ourselves? Should we not know ourselves better if we have been provided with more brains? We shall learn the answer soon.
For the sole purpose of having enough money to eat, the underground man joined the service. He was a collegiate a...