User Reviews
Rating: really liked it
If you like your books to move in a linear fashion this book is not for you. It hops around and attention must be paid or you will find yourself flipping back a few pages to reestablish the thread of the story. I took this on a plane flight, crazy right? Not exactly the normal "light" reading I take on flights. It was a stroke of genius. I absolutely fell under the thrall of Dostoyevky's prose. (Thank you to my fellow travelers who didn't feel the need to chat with the guy who obviously is so frilling bored he has resorted to reading a Russian novel.) I zipped through three hundred pages like it was butter and found myself absolutely captivated by the evolving drama of the Brothers Karamazov, the women that drive them crazy, and the father that brings to mind the words justifiable homicide.
I have to give a plug to these Everyman's Library editions. A 776 page novel that feels like a 300 page novel. Despite the smaller size, the print size is still easily readable. I will certainly be picking up more of these editions especially the Russian novels that are translated by the magical duo of Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky.
Translators Volokhonsky and PevearOne of my complaints, when I was in college, and liked to torture myself with the largest most incomprehensible Russian books I could find, was that the nicknames and diminutives of various Russian names increased my frustration level and decreased my ability to comprehend the plots. I certainly spent too much time scratching my head and reading feverishly to see if I could figure out from the interactions of the characters if Vanky was actually Ivan or Boris or Uncle Vashy. I did not have that issue with this book. Despite a plot that skipped around I did not experience the confusion that has marred my memories of other Russian novels.
This is the story of the Karamazov family. The father Fyodor and his four sons. There are three legitimate sons Dmitri, Ivan and Alyosha, but I believe that Smerdyakov is also an illegitimate son, though not confirmed by the author given the tendencies of Fyodor to hop on anything in a skirt I would say chances are pretty good that the boy is a Karamazov.
The recklessness at which Fyodor lived his life is really the basis of the plot. The motivations of the other characters all revolve around reactions to the careless and insensitive behavior of the father. Dostoyevsky wrote a description of Fyodor that still gives me a shiver every time I read it.
"Fyodor's physiognomy by that time presented something that testified acutely to the characteristics and essence of his whole life. Besides the long, fleshy bags under his eternally insolent, suspicious, and leering little eyes, besides the multitude of deep wrinkles on his fat little face, a big Adam's apple, fleshy and oblong like a purse, hung below his sharp chin, giving him a sort of repulsively sensual appearance. Add to that a long, carnivorous mouth with plump lips, behind which could be seen the little stumps of black, almost decayed teeth. He sprayed saliva whenever he spoke."
Fyodor is a skirt chaser and since he is rich he can afford to throw these opulent parties that evolve/devolve into orgies with the local women. Given the description above I can only speculate that gallons and gallons of good vodka must be in play to achieve this end. Problems mount as he falls in love/lust with a young beauty of dubious morals named Grushenka.
His oldest son Dmitri is also in love with this young woman and as they both vie for her hand the tension between the Karamazov's ratchets up to dangerous levels. Dmitri while pursuing this dangerous siren throws over Katerina, a girl that he owes 3,000 rubles. After Fyodor is murdered (It was similar to waiting around for someone to kill J.R.)those same rubles become central to the subsequent trial to convict Dmitri of the murder. The murderer is revealed to the reader and as the trial advances the tension increases as we begin to wonder just how the truth will be revealed.
There are subplots with Father Zosima and his life before becoming a monk. Alyosha, the youngest son, was studying to be a monk under Zosima's tutelage, but becomes embroiled in the power struggles of the family and leaves the monastery to seek a life in the real world. Alyosha also becomes involved with the care of a dying child named, Ilyusha who is in the book to illustrate the heavy burden that the seemingly inconsequential actions of people can leave on others. The book explores that theme extensively.
It was fascinating to watch the ripple effects of each character's actions as the chapters advance. Every time I picked this book up I had to read large chunks because it simply would not let me go. The reactions and high drama created by the smallest spark of contention in the characters kept the pages turning and as new information snapped into place I found my pulse quickening as my brain sprang ahead trying to guess where Dostoyevsky was taking me next.
I worked with a young woman years ago that said that I reminded her of one of the Karamazov brothers. Because of the diverse personalities of the brothers, and the fact that I can see a little of myself in each brother I'm still left with the grand mystery as to which brother she was referring too. It serves me right for waiting so long to read this beautiful book.
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Rating: really liked it
If there was still any doubt, let me confirm that this actually is the greatest book ever written. But be warned that you need to set aside a solid month to get through it. And it's not light reading--this is a dense work of philosophy disguised as a simple murder mystery. But it's well worth the effort. It tackles the fundamental question of human existence--how best to live one's life--in a truly engaging way. Dostoevsky created 3 brothers (Ivan, Alexei, and Dmitri) with opposite answers to this fundamental question, and set them loose in the world to see what would happen. A testament to Dostoevsky's genius is he didn't know how the book would evolve when he started writing. As a consequence, the book really isn't about the plot at all, but about how these brothers evolve and deal with their struggles based on their differing world views.
Dostoevsky articulates, better than anyone, how human beings really are what I would call "walking contradictions". Perhaps all of our struggles in life boil down to the reality that we desire contradictory things, simultaneously. If you like your novels with good character development, this is the masterwork. Dostoevsky's characters are more real, more human, than any other. At different points along the way, you will identify with them, sympathize with them, curse them, agonize over them, celebrate them. You will be moved.
Reading this book was a deeply personal experience for me, because I saw myself in one of the characters, and I didn't like what I saw. My worldview, in fact my entire direction in life, shifted as a result of this experience. I can't guarantee the same results for you, but you owe it to yourself to set aside the time, someday, for the Brothers Karamazov.
Be sure to read the Pevear Volokhonsky translation.
Rating: really liked it
I'm writing this review as I read. Frankly, I'm astounded by how good this is and how compelling I'm finding it. Astounded? Why should that be? This is a classic, after all. True, but it breaks just about every "rule" of fiction. The plot so far is virtually nonexistent: three brothers get together with their wastrel father and all sorts of dysfunction, including an odd love triangle involving the father and the eldest son, are revealed. The brothers aren't particular close to each other, and really not much happens except that they meet at a monastery, where the youngest son lives, for an audience with a holy man who's dying, and then they go their separate ways, except that they have kind of random meetings with each other and with the woman involved in the love triangle, and there's a vague sense of foreboding that something will happen to the father. And the characters? Not really the kinds of characters we're used to in contemporary fiction. These are characters who struggle with all kinds of philosophical issues and enjoy nothing more than debating them at length with each other. Sounds boring? Well, it's not. Not at all.
By the way, I'm reading the Ignet Avsey translation based on Kris's recommendation, and it's wonderful so far!
***
One of the things I find so fascinating about this book is how it can be both one of the most dark and cynical works I've read, and one of the most overtly spiritual and soulful. This is a true testament to Dostoyevsky's range, to how effortlessly he "contains multitudes" in this masterful work.
***
[Alert: Some Spoilers to Follow]
One of the most cynical passages I've read so far is about how, following the holy man's death, his fellow monks are all shocked when his corpse begins to smell. Because of course if he'd been a true holy man, they figured, his corpse wouldn't have smelled at all, so the fact that it started smelling makes them all begin to question whether he'd really been what they'd imagined. Soon several of them begin to remember times when he'd been shockingly and suspiciously less-than-holy, and then the pile-on really begins, as the monks begin competing to disavow him the most, with only a couple of his friends holding onto his good memory, but even they are cowed into silence by the general gleeful animosity. Oh, this Dostoyevsky really knows how to plumb all that's dark and pathetic about human nature.
***
After about page 500, the plot really picks up. We have murder, a mad dash to a woman, heavy drinking, protestations of love, and the police moving in. After the languid plotting of the opening sections, I'm almost breathless!
***
The use of the narrator here is so interesting. We have a nameless figure who lives in the place where the events take place recounting the story almost as if recounting a legend. At the same time, we get the characters' most intimate thoughts and long speeches that the narrator could not possibly have known first-hand. It all adds to the notion that this may be more the narrator's own tall tale than any faithful recitation of history--which of course is true, because it's a novel, but the way the artificial nature of the story gets highlighted makes me think it's another example of Dostroyevsky's cynicism at work.
***
All signs point to Dmitry as the perpetrator, but the way he protests his innocence just makes you want to believe him! He's having a hard time of it, though. The prosecutor and magistrate conduct a long interview of him, and the evidence is damning.
Interestingly, after Dmitry is taken away, the scene shifts radically, revisiting the young boys we'd briefly met earlier. What is Dostroyevsky doing here? In the figure of Kolya, a 13 year-old prankster wunderkind, he seems to be pointing out the limits of rationalism, the way it can be abused to wow those with slightly less knowledge and how it can ultimately come off as a big joke.
***
Now things have become complicated. Who's really guilty of this crime? We know who "did it" because he tells Ivan, but then he blames Ivan himself for his athiesm--for influencing him by the notion that nothing we do matters anyway.
***
At the beginning of the trial, we see Dostoyevsky's biting and cynical nature reassert itself, as he describes the spectacle that the event has become--the people who've traveled from far away to witness it, drawn by their desire to see the two female rivals for Dmitry and Dmitry himself, who's especially attractive to the ladies because of his reputation as a "ladies' man." The proceedings themselves seem secondary to the spectacle and the sport.
***
The trial itself is a fascinating deconstruction of Dmitry's character--how that character can be everything the prosecutor says, and yet at the same time, it's everything his defense counsel says too. We're given to long speeches about the character that are fascinating psychological studies (the lawyers themselves debate about this newfangled science of psychology--how plastic it is, how it can be used to justify and explain anything). You can see Dostoyevsky working on multiple levels here, showing multiple sides of his character that don't quite cohere, and that's exactly the point, that people are complex and inconsistent and constantly at war with themselves, so what does "character" mean? What does "a" character mean in a novel?
And just when it looks like the defense will carry the day....
***
The coda is a plan for escape and the funeral of a young boy, and yet it end on a curiously uplifting note, a statement of faith and everlasting remembrance--and a change, for the better, in many of the other young boys, united as they are in love of the lost boy, who thus becomes an almost Christian martyr, the one whose death brings love to all his friends.
And so Dostoyevsky brings to a close his massive masterpiece, and so I end these little scribbles.
Rating: really liked it
The Brothers Karamazov is the greatest novel…
The Brothers Karamazov is the greatest grotesque novel. And I’m afraid my interpretations of it will hardly be very popular.
What is God? What is man? And what are their relationships?
“You see, I close my eyes and think: if everyone has faith, where does it come from? And then they say that it all came originally from fear of the awesome phenomena of nature, and that there is nothing to it at all. What? I think, all my life I’ve believed, then I die, and suddenly there’s nothing, and only ‘burdock will grow on my grave,’ as I read in one writer? It’s terrible! What, what will give me back my faith?”
In his deepest novel
Fyodor Dostoyevsky created the whole gallery of human types – both male and female – that later
T.S. Eliot will define as ‘The Hollow Men’
“Vanity! Ivan does not have God. He has his idea. Not on my scale. But he’s silent. I think he’s a freemason. I asked him – he’s silent. I hoped to drink from the waters of his source – he’s silent. Only once did he say something.”
“What did he say?” Alyosha picked up hastily.
“I said to him: ‘Then everything is permitted, in that case?’ He frowned: ‘Fyodor Pavlovich, our papa, was a little pig,’ he said, ‘but his thinking was right.’ That’s what he came back with.”
Fyodor Karamazov, the father was a swine, a hungry greedy hog that would devour everything and everybody on its way and nothing, bar death, would stop him.
“Oh, we love to live among people and to inform these people at once of everything, even our most infernal and dangerous ideas; we like sharing with people, and, who knows why, we demand immediately, on the spot, that these people respond to us at once with the fullest sympathy, enter into all our cares and concerns, nod in agreement with us, and never cross our humor.”
Dmitri Karamazov is a parrot, a popinjay – the poseur who admires nothing but his own reflection.
“But Ivan loves nobody, Ivan is not one of us; people like Ivan are not our people, my friend, they’re a puff of dust… The wind blows, and the dust is gone…”
Ivan Karamazov is a peacock proud of his iridescent tail – he cares about nothing but his empty and fruitless ideas.
His heart trembled as he entered the elder’s cell: Why, why had he left? Why had the elder sent him “into the world”? Here was quiet, here was holiness, and there – confusion, and a darkness in which one immediately got lost and went astray…
Alyosha Karamazov is a frightened calf, a cat’s paw – an infantile whipping boy created to serve the others and to be used.
…while the sun, moon, and stars might be an interesting subject, for Smerdyakov it was of completely third-rate importance, and that he was after something quite different. Be it one way or the other, in any event a boundless vanity began to appear and betray itself, an injured vanity besides.
Smerdyakov is a rat – he hides in darkness but he hates the entire world and he is capable of any meanness.
Man is one’s own enemy… By living one unavoidably destroys oneself and the others.
Rating: really liked it
(Book 837 From 1001 Books) - Братья Карамазовы = Bratia Karamazovy = The Karamazov brothers, Fyodor Dostoevsky Abstract: The Brothers Karamazov is a passionate philosophical novel set in 19th century of Russia that enters deeply into the ethical debates of God, free will, and morality. It is a spiritual drama of moral struggles concerning faith, doubt, and reason, set against a modernizing Russia.
Characters: Dmitri Fyodorovich Karamazov, Ivan Fyodorovich Karamazov, Alexei Fyodorovich Karamazov, Pavel Smerdyakov, Agrafena Alexandrovna Svetlova, Katerina Ivanovna Verkhovtseva, Fyodor Pavlovich Karamazov, Father Zosima, the Elder, Ilyusha, Nikolai Krassotkin.
برادران کارامازوف - فئودور داستایوسکی؛ انتشاراتیها (صفی علیشاه، امیر کبیر، ناهید، نگارستان کتاب، سمیر، همشهری) ادبیات روسیه، تاریخ نخستین خوانش: روز بیست و پنجم ماه سپتامبر سال 2002میلادی
عنوان یک: برادران کارامازوف، مترجم: مشفقهمدانی، نشر تهران، صفی علیشاه، امیرکبیر، 1335، در دو جلد، تعداد صفحات: 970ص؛
عنوان دو: برادران کارامازوف، مترجم صالح حسینی، نشر تهران، نیلوفر، 1367؛ چاپ دیگر تهران، ناهید، چاپ هشتم 1376، در دو جلد جلد، تعداد صفحات 1108ص، شابک دوره 96462050701، 9646205062؛ موضوع: داستانهای نویسندگان روسیه - سده 19م
عنوان سه: برادران کارامازوف، مترجم رامین مستقیم، نشر تهران، نگارستان کتاب، چاپ نخست 1390، در دو جلد، تعداد صفحات 854ص، شابک دوره 9786001900532، جلدیک 9786001900518، جلددو: 9786001900525
عنوان چهار: برادران کارامازوف، ترجمه: اسماعیل قهرمانیپور(شمس خوی)، نشر تهران، سمیر، چاپ نخست 1391، در دو جلد، تعداد صفحات 1543ص، شابک: جلدیک 9789642201860، جلددو 9789642201874
عنوان پنج: برادران کارامازوف، مترجم: پرویز شهدی؛ نشر تهران، مجید، چاپ نخست 1391، در دو جلد، تعداد صفحات 1090ص، چاپ هفتم 1398؛شابک 9789644531040؛
عنوان شش: برادران کارامازوف، مترجم: احمد علیقلیان؛ نشر تهران، مرکز، چاپ نهم 1398، در 854ص، شابک 9789642132423؛
عنوان هفت: برادران کارامازوف، مترجم: لادن مدیر؛ نشر تهران، آسو، در 1112ص
عنوان هشت: برادران کارامازوف، مترجم: هانیه چوپانی؛ نشر تهران، فراروی؛ در 920ص؛
عنوان نه: برادران کارامازوف کوتاه شده، ترجمه: حسن زمانی، نشر تهران، همشهری، چاپ نهم 1391، تعداد صفحات: 61ص، شابک 9789642412013
این داستان مشهورترین اثر «داستایوسکی» است، که برای نخستین بار، بصورت پاورقی، در سالهای 1879میلادی تا سال 1880میلادی، در نشریه ی «پیام آور روسی» منتشر شد؛ گویا قرار بوده، یک مجموعه سه گانه باشد، اما چهار ماه پس از چاپ کتاب، نویسنده از در این سرای زمین، به آسمانها رفتند، و به آن سرای دیگر شتافتند؛ «فئودور کارامازوف»؛ پیرمردی فاسد، و پولدار است، با سه پسر خویش؛ به نامهای «میتیا»، «ایوان» و «آلیوشا»، و پسر نامشروع اش به نام «اسمردیاکوف»؛ کتاب هماره شگفتی اندیشمندان، و بزرگواران را برانگیخته، و آنها را به کف زدن، و آفرین گویی واداشته است؛ نویسنده خود نیز، یکی از شخصیتهای همین داستان است، و گاه نقش راوی داستان را، میپذیرند؛ هر چهار پسر، از پدر خویش بیزار هستند؛ «میتیا» افسر است و زودرنج؛ «ایوان» تحصیلکرده و بدبین و سرد مزاج، و «آلیوشا» قهرمان داستان است و در صومعه، زیر نظر «پدر زوسیما»، با باورهای «اورتودکس» پرورش یافته، و شخصیتی دوستداشتنی دارد؛ و «اسمردیاکوف»، نوکر خانه، و فاسد و بدقلب است؛ ماجرای همزیستی این چهار برادر با هم است.؛ ...؛
تاریخ بهنگام رسانی 26/05/1399هجری خورشیدی؛ 07/05/1400هجری خورشیدی؛ ا. شربیانی
Rating: really liked it
“Hurrah for Karamazov!”
Those are the concluding words of this bombastic brick of a book. I am more than willing to chime in, to cheer for the brothers Karamazov who finally, finally made me give in to the genius of Dostoevsky fully, without anger, without resentment and fight, after a year of grappling with his earlier novels.
This is doubtless his magnum opus, the shining lead star in a brilliant cosmos. There are many similarities to his earlier novels, and his characters fight with the same inner demons as the predecessors. And yet, there is something milder, more soothing in the Brothers Karamazov, there is mature perfection in this novel.
Yes, Smerdyakov is an underprivileged, hateful sufferer, but he is not lost to compassion and care in the same way as the nihilistic man writing his Notes from Underground.
And Dimitri is rash and bold and full of contradictions, but he is not as confused as Raskolnikov, he does not impose the dogma of suffering in the sense of Crime and Punishment on his family and community. He has a plan for living, not for suffering.
Ivan is a brooding intellectual, but he is not stone-cold like Stavrogin in Devils. His conflicted heart and intellect are connected to the world.
Alyosha, thank goodness, is a sweet and innocent character, but nothing like the awful Christlike idiot Myshkin from The Idiot. He knows how to live and interact, and he is willing to step away from rigid prejudices and principles to comfort the ones he loves.
What about the women? Grushenka is not destroyed by the love of several men like Nastasya, and even Katerina Ivanovna is given a complex, divided soul, not just a shallow platform for men to use at their convenience and throw away when they have made their point. She has her own points to make.
Why do the Brothers Karamazov work so well?
I believe Dostoyevsky made the decision to paint a family just like it is, with all the contradictory emotions and actions, and all the mood swings and difficult situations. He had already established his religious and political ideas in earlier works, and he could afford to let the characters be what they naturally were, without judging them from the standpoint of history and society. Thus he could be the storyteller he naturally was, without any agenda but love for the story he told.
The plot is both simple and complex: Be careful what you wish for, it might come true!
As the three (or four) brothers and the women they love in different ways and fashions face the murder of the old patriarchal buffoon, all of them have to come to terms with the painful reality of loving and hating at the same time.
A bad parent is still a parent, and a dead parent still has power over the lives of his offspring. The “Karamazov character”, much cited throughout the novel, becomes a synonym for any human being in his or her dealings with that complicated microcosm called family:
“And why? Because he was of the broad Karamazov character - that’s just what I am leading up to - capable of combining the most incongruous contradictions, and capable of the greatest heights and of the greatest depths.”
Because Dostoyevsky dares to let go of his mission to prove that Russian nationalism and Christian orthodoxie are at the centre of the meaning of life, he actually makes a case for both in a much more convincing way than he ever could with his more concept- and idea-driven earlier works. The humour in the unforgettable scenes with the “unspeakable conduct” of the stinking Father Zossima are so much better than the pseudo-Christian rants of Myshkin, and the intellectual understanding of the dangers of community worship in the story of the Grand Inquisitor is as true now as it was back then, showing the way to the core of both religious and political extremism:
“This craving for community of worship is the chief misery of every man individually and of all humanity from the beginning of time. For the sake of common worship they’ve slain each other with the sword. They have set up gods and challenged one another: Put away your gods and come and worship ours, or we will kill you and your gods.” And so it will be to the end of the world, even when gods disappear from the earth; they will fall down before idols just the same.”
So what is the redeeming feature of the Karamazovs then? Why do I feel like shouting, over and over:
“Hurrah for Karamazov!”
They love each other. They really do, in a crooked, angry way, in a distorted, strange way. But they do. They love each other despite being completely different in their approach to life, and they support each other’s right to life, love and happiness. In the end, they help each other make the best of a muddle (and that is the best any family can do: help each other deal with the blows that families tend to inflict on themselves!).
Exile in a place worse than Siberia (Oh, America, what a delightful irony Dimitri’s words are!) is manageable if you make peace with your loved ones. And the final pages leave me bowing to the beauty of the insight that man and woman can love each other in so many different ways, and that love is not exclusive, but inclusive.
Dostoyevsky! You wrote the perfect novel. Hurrah!
Rating: really liked it
Contrary to widespread rumor, this is a far from bleak book. While every character has his or her own misery, and it all takes place in a place called something like "cattle-roundup-ville", the moments of religious ecstasy and moral clarity are heartbreaking in their frequency - it's hard not to wish that one had such bizarre events going on around one in order to prompt such lofty oratory.
The story involves Ivan, Dmitri, Alyosha, and Smerdyakov, four brothers with a rich but notoriously lecherous father, Fyodor. All four brothers were raised by others, Fyodor having essentially ignored them until others removed them from his care. In the beginning of the book, Alyosha is in the monastery, studying under a famous elder name Father Zosima; Dmitri has just left the army and stolen a large sum of money from a government official's daughter, who he has also apparently seduced, all while pursuing a lawsuit against Fyodor for his inheritance and canoodling with his own father's intended, the local seductress Grushenka; Ivan, the intellectual in the family, has just returned from (I think) Petersburg. Dmitri is violent and impulsive, referring to himself as an "insect," and gets into fistfights with Fyodor several times. Smerdyakov works for Fyodor as a lackey, having gone to France to learn to cook at some point in the past. It's unimaginably more complicated and digressive than all this, and just trying to follow this crucial sum of three thousand rubles through the story is almost impossible. But anyway, Fyodor is killed and much of the book hinges on which brother killed him and why.
When I first read this book in high school, my teacher (who was a devout Catholic, a red-faced drunk who wore sunglasses to class, and the most enthusiastic reader of Russian literature imaginable) asked everyone who their favorite brother was. Was it Ivan, the tortured skeptic? Dmitri, the "scoundrel" who tortures himself for every wrong he commits but can't help committing more? Or Alyosha, the saintly one who always knows the right thing to say? (Certainly Smerdyakov is no one's favorite.) At the time I went with Ivan - I was in high school, after all, and his atheism and pessimism were revolutionary to me.
But now Ivan seems rather selfish and callow, and I can't help siding with Dmitri, the one Dostoevsky uses almost as a case history of conscience. Like Shakespeare, Dostoevsky gives his characters all the space to talk like gods, clearing pages upon pages for their reasoning and dialog. Dmitri fumbles with Voltaire and is clearly not overly literate, but in some ways that's apropos, because his main problem is the constant internal conflict between his desires and his ethics which is only partly resolved when he chooses to become responsible for not only what he does, but also what he wants.
The most famous passage in the book, Ivan's tale of the Grand Inquisitor, is, to me, far less interesting than Zosima's meditations on the conflict between justice and the collective good. The elder Zosima is a kind of Christian socialist who grapples with the typical mid-19th century Russian issues of how to build a equitable society without the extremes of coercion that the Tsar used to turn to, while also ensuring public morality and avoiding the kind of massacres that characterized the French Revolution (an event that seems to have been even more traumatizing for Russians than it was to the French due to the enormous cultural influence France had there at the time.) Zosima's answer is unworkable and in some ways naiive, but the discussion is well worth it, moreso than Ivan's somewhat simplistic dualism of Christ vs. the Inquisitor. Dostoevsky was a cultural conservative in the sense that he was constantly renewing his commitment to the obligations imposed on Russians by the Orthodox Church. At the same time, he was committed to the pursuit of joy through kindness and community and a kind of interpersonal fair dealing in a way that transcends his political concerns and is inspiring to see articulated in the lives of people who are as confused as the rest of us.
It's a huge, messy book, but so worth the effort. It took me about three months to read carefully, though my reading has been flagging lately, as well. I read this while listening to Hubert Dreyfus's accompanying lectures at Stanford on existentialism and this book which are available on iTunes U, and even when I felt his readings overreached, it was a good way to reread a tough and subtle work like this.
Rating: really liked it
"Reading Dostoevsky's The Brothers Karamazov is comparable to pushing a beautiful grand piano up a very steep hill."—Kevin Ansbro
Why, oh
why, in a world filled with endless opportunities to enjoy oneself, did I think it was a good idea to start on a 19th-century book that's the size of an electric toaster?
I have friends, I have a wife, I have a life. Heck, I even have one of those home television sets that you so often hear about…
The Brothers Karamazov is by no means a galloping read. It is a novel that requires the reader to drop anchor and bob about on Fyodor's ocean of esteemed eloquence for as long as it takes. It was a slog at times and I'm ashamed to say that I almost jumped ship several times.
Dostoevsky threw everything but the kitchen sink at this, his
magnum opus. He scatters random details like confetti and there are more characters than you could wave a stick at. His imagery is vivid without being overdone, the writing is tight and beautifully paced.
The story focuses on Fyodor Karamazov, a boorish and wicked father, and his three dissimilar sons. Collectively, the eponymous brothers are perhaps designed to represent all of us. Philosophical and theological discussions abound; the existence of God, morality and freedom of choice are the author's themes of choice.
I certainly have no complaints about the writing, which is rich and expressive. Any quibbles I have with this book say more about me as an easily-distracted reader than they do about Dostoevsky's incontestable skill as a writer. I dare say it would be a godsend to a bookworm who has chosen to live off-grid for a month. I don't know how long it took Dostoevsky to complete this, but his writing hand must have resembled a sloth's claw by the time he'd finished!
Does
The Brothers Karamazov harbour a captivating story to rival the likes of
Great Expectations or
Les Misérables?
I think not.
Is this venerated novel worthy of the widespread admiration it receives?
Absolutely.
Rating: really liked it
In 1929 Freud wrote that
The Brothers Karamazov was “the most magnificent novel ever written”. Well, it’s possible he had not got round to reading
Ulysses yet (copies were hard to get until 1934) and of course he never did get the opportunity to read the work of Dan Brown or J K Rowling, but even so, this gives you the idea of this novel’s impact on the brains of its readers.
A SUMMARY OF THE BROTHERS KARAMAZOVThe major themes are
Comedy
Tragedy
Psychology
Politics
Theology
Life
Death
Drinking
Borrowing money
THIS NOVEL IS A SHAPESHIFTING BEASTFor chapters at a time this novel is about children. For most of the last half this novel is like a Richard Price police procedural (
Clockers, Freedomland, Lush Life) and also like a great courtroom drama with verbatim closing speeches. Elsewhere it’s a detailed debate about monastic life and the intricacies of the Christian message. The rest of the time it’s an intense psychodrama between seven or eight major characters. In one chapter (“An Ailing Little Foot”) Dosto prefigures Molly Bloom’s stream of conscious. Got to say, this guy Dosto was not a one trick pony, not by a country mile.
SOME POINTS ABOUT 19TH CENTURY RUSSIAOnly peasants and servants work, leaving the rest of the people time to talk a lot
People are really ill quite often. This might be connected to the high alcohol consumption or the poor medical facilities
It is clear that the concept of
interrupting someone had not yet been introduced into Russia at this point. So everyone is able to spout forth about anything they like, rambling on with multiple digressions for ten pages, and none of the other people in the room will say “oy, shut it, sunshine, we’ve heard enough from you, let somebody else have a go”. No one will say this. Eventually the speaker collapses to the floor from lack of oxygen and the next character will launch into their ten page rant.
THE NARRATOR IS A MAJOR CHARACTERHe is a bumbling old fart who lives in the little town where all this happens. He says he has gone round talking to people to get all this story straight. He continually says things like
The details I do not know – I have heard only that…
I myself have not read the will
This arrival [of Ivan] which was so fateful and which was to serve as the origin of so many consequences for me long afterwards, the rest of my life, almost…And on P 573 he says
Today’s item in the newspaper Rumours was entitled “From Skotoprigonyevsk” (alas, that is the name of our town, I have been concealing it all this time). THERE ARE ZINGERSYou probably thought Dosto was a bit gloomy but this is often a comic novel, yes really. For instance Dmitri says
Who doesn’t wish for his father’s death ? …Everyone wants his father deadAnd the narrator himself comes out with
The two were some sort of enemies in love with each otherAnd Ivan says stuff like
When I think of what I would do to the man who first invented God! Stringing him up on the bitter asp would be too good for him. THERE IS A MACGUFFINThere is an amount of 3000 roubles that Dmitri borrows from his current squeeze, and readers had better get used to the phrase 3000 roubles popping up about three times on every other page of this 900 page novel. Because you see, totally co-incidentally, the dead father was robbed of this exact sum also. It can get slightly tiresome, I admit that. We never hear the last of it.
SOME BLURB WRITERS SHOULD BE STOPPED BEFORE THEY BLURB ANY MOREThe blurb on the back of my Penguin copy says
The murder of brutal landowner Fyodor Karamazov changes the lives of his sons blah blah blah
This is likely to get readers all het up and their anticipation of a juicy whodunnit may turn to irritation because the murder doesn’t happen until page 508.
This is not Dosto’s fault. ALL KARAMAZOV BROTHERS RATED4. Alexei
a.k.a. Alyosha, Alyoshka, Alyoshenka, Alyoshechka, Alexeichik, Lyosha, Lyoshenka
This is the holy joe, novice monk, all round too good to be true guy, but he doesn’t seem to have much vim, zip, pazzaz or get up and go about him. You wouldn’t want to be stuck in a lift with him. Not good boyfriend material.
3. Dmitri (a.k.a. Mitya, Mitka, Mitenka, Mitri)
This is the roister-doistering swaggering loudmouth uber-romantic aggravating jerk who because of his ability to drink ox-stunning amounts of hard liquor and then do the Argentinian tango or the Viennese waltz at the drop of a samovar is a wow with the ladies but you better be expecting to pay for his exhausting company because he never has a bean. Except that on the two occasions he does have a bean (3000 beans!) you will have
the best time ever! Definitely not good boyfriend material.
2. Pavel Fyodorovich Smerdyakov (aka the lackey)
The unacknowledged bastard of Big Daddy Fyodor who is kept around as a skivvy and although he has brains because he’s epileptic and an unacknowledged bastard is never given any education and therefore becomes an autodidact with a full tank of bloodcurdling homicidal suppressed rage. He’s completely boring until he starts talking then whooahhhhh. Really not good boyfriend material.
1. Ivan (a.k.a. Vanya, Vanka, Vanechka)
Obvious star of the show, the full-on atheist and progressive thinker – he’s given two entire chapters of brilliant ranting against religion – Rebellion and The Grand Inquisitor and every time he slams into the room and starts sneering the quality of the conversation is going to increase. Also probably not good boyfriend material.
NICE BIT OF DOSTO META HUMOURDmitri gets to make a good joke :
Eh gentlemen, why pick on such little things : how, when and why, and precisely this much money and not that much, and all that claptrap… if you keep on, it’ll take you three volumes and an epilogue to cram it all in.
Rating: really liked it
It's not hard to understand Nabokov's objections to Dostoevsky. It's his scruffiness as a novelist Nabokov with his literary sartorial elegance would have objected to. For example, his gun-ho attitude towards unnecessary repetition. And also his occasional lapses at organising his material for maximum dramatic effect, most evident in the construction of the trial. Nabokov was much more of a literary dandy than Dostoevsky, much more self-conscious, much more vigilant in his attention to detail, more subtle and ingenious in his artistry. But Dostoevsky was more courageous and pioneering psychologically. More intimate with the dark and unearthed side of the human condition. Nabokov was always looking for the laugh; Dostoevsky was more drawn to the accelerated heartbeat, the rush of blood to the head.
Dostoevsky's closest ally as a novelist is probably Emily Bronte. I thought while reading this that it's literature's greatest tragedy that Emily never got to write another novel. It's almost a complete mystery what she might have come up with. Like Emily, he dramatizes in the outer world the illicit promptings of the shadow self. Like Emily, he knows only a thin layer of cerebral paint shields us all from violence and horror. Like Emily, he's not the least interested in life's civilised arrangements, the house and garden existence. And they both mirror Shakespeare in this regard. Characters nakedly put the entirety of their being into every dramatic moment. Character is always fate.
The brothers are simplistically split into single imperatives of the human psyche: Alyosha is spirit/innocence, Mitya is sensuality and Ivan is intellect. Each of the brothers allow D to enter a different milieu of society. Aloysha surrounds himself with children and monks; Mitya with loose women and dissolute men; Ivan with progressive thinkers. You might say the three brothers combined are presented as an everyman. As always with D, his women, though relegated to background roles (historically accurate you'd have to say for the most part), are fascinating creations. This was especially evident to me as I was reading Michael Chabon at the same time whose women as a rule tend to be kind of perfunctory and less than vivid or nuanced or compelling as dramatic presences, often having no independent life outside their relationships with their men. D's women on the other hand blaze with frustrated independent aspiration.
I marvelled at the idiosyncrasies of my memory while reading this. Though I've read it twice my memory withheld all the central plot coordinates, yet I could recall various scenes as vividly as if they were a part of my own life. Made me think of Proust whose narrator seems to remember what we consider incidental details of his life rather than the big picture landmarks. There's clearly a lot of truth in this perspective.
I read a professional review of this which put forward the idea that Aloysha didn't interest Dostoevsky. I'd say this is utter baloney. For starters, the novel always benefits from his presence. He provides warmth and empathy. And then his narratives are often the most compelling - his flirtatious relationship with Lize or with the dying boy or with Zosima the elder for example.
Rating: really liked it
Above all, avoid lies, all lies, especially the lie to yourself. Keep watch on your own lie and examine it every hour, every minute. And avoid contempt, both of others and of yourself: what seems bad to you in yourself is purified by the very fact that you have noticed it in yourself. And avoid fear, though fear is simply the consequence of every lie. (57)
Family. You cannot pick. You are either happy to be around them or you are stuck with them. You can choose your friends, a pet, you can choose between a blueberry muffin and a chocolate chip one, but you cannot choose your family. The combination of genetics and the social environment is simply fascinating. For example, take this ordinary Russian family. An ambitious, lascivious, ridiculous father who enjoyed alcohol in any form; a son who, at first, seemed to be the image of his father; a second son, vain and intellectual with even more questionable moral reactions; the youngest son with the kindness of a saint and the troubled soul of a common man and another weak, disturbing young man who never counted as a son. This book contains the story of every family in the world. Their struggles, their fears, their doubts, the decisions that reflect the highest and most degrading aspects of human nature.
“There is a force that will endure everything,” said Ivan, this time with a cold smirk.
“What force?”
“The Karamazov force ... the force of the Karamazov baseness.”
“To drown in depravity, to stifle your soul with corruption, is that it?” (210)
This book contains centuries of human history. It is a major treatise on philosophy and religion. And yes, there is a lot of religion here, but even me, a person who is struggling with a lack of faith and a deep ocean of doubts and fear, can still be interested and dazzled by all this. (Unless we are talking about the "monk book". There were a couple of good things but, in general, it was the only part of the book that made me want to take a really long nap. I must admit it, in the spirit of full disclosure. And my previous naive defense about how “even” me could be interested? Yes, forget it, I know I am haunted by uncertainty and, therefore, obsessed with knowledge, no matter how limited I can be.)
“Can it be that you really hold this conviction about the consequences of the exhaustion of men’s faith in the immortality of their souls?” the elder suddenly asked Ivan Fyodorovich.
“Yes, it was my contention. There is no virtue if there is no immortality.”
“You are blessed if you believe so, or else most unhappy!”
...
“Maybe you’re right... ! But still, I wasn't quite joking either ... ,” Ivan Fyodorovich suddenly and strangely confessed—by the way, with a quick blush.
“You weren't quite joking, that is true. This idea is not yet resolved in your heart and torments it. But a martyr, too, sometimes likes to toy with his despair, also from despair, as it were. For the time being you, too, are toying, out of despair, with your magazine articles and drawing-room discussions, without believing in your own dialectics and smirking at them with your heart aching inside you ... The question is not resolved in you, and there lies your great grief, for it urgently demands resolution...” (66)
A sharp observation written using such an exquisite language. You should become accustomed to that. Once you reach Book V, you will found yourself overwhelmed by the author's mesmerizing erudition.
If you're expecting an explosive plot with lots of things going on at the same time, weird twists and vampires, fights and dragons, magic and flying dogs, then this book is not for you. There is a plot, of course, but the excellence of this book lies on the writing. Dostoyevsky's trademark is his gifted ability to describe human nature using the most poignantly elegant prose known to man. His insightful points of view on almost every subject that affects all humanity are written with admirable lyricism and precision. Reading this particular writer can be rather demanding. You have to be prepared. You have to become habituated to the idea that your soul might absorb the despairing and sometimes playful beauty of his writing. And once that happens, you won't be able to forget him. Dostoyevsky has the power to defeat oblivion. He personifies an unwelcome light that illuminates every dark nook of our minds. He makes us think about what we like to see in ourselves and what we choose to hide.
Jealousy! “Othello is not jealous, he is trustful”... A truly jealous man is not like that. It is impossible to imagine all the shame and moral degradation a jealous man can tolerate without the least remorse. And it is not that they are all trite and dirty souls. On the contrary, it is possible to have a lofty heart, to love purely, to be full of self-sacrifice, and at the same time to hide under tables, to bribe the meanest people, and live with the nastiest filth of spying and eavesdropping... And one may ask what is the good of a love that must constantly be spied on, and what is the worth of a love that needs to be guarded so intensely? (293)
Besides briefly discussing the plot, I can only add I don't have favorite characters. They all annoyed me or disgusted me in the same contradictory way. But I do understand them, most of the times. I loved the dialogues—the amazing reflections while they are deciding to act against everything that is good; they know what they are about to do is wrong but they can't help it; it's in their blood—the profound remarks of our narrator and the fact that Dostoyevsky, one more time, allowed me to enter inside his characters' minds. He shares the complexity of all of them. And I'm enchanted by this man's ability to make everything beautiful, even while describing the darkest aspects of humanity, which leads me to another point.
I love reading other people's thoughts on the books I like. A certain opinion I read a while ago was about how Dostoyevsky seems to be a vicious misogynist because of the way he wrote about Smerdyakov's mother, “Stinking Lizaveta.” I try not to make out of every word written by the author, a reflection of the person he or she really is. Crime writers don't usually murder every human they find. Mystery writers don't always think that somebody's butler is up to something. In that sense, an author who writes about how a woman is mistreated by a certain part of society doesn't necessarily mean he's a vicious misogynist. He was being honest, he was displaying truth. Poor women and men were often treated like less than a human - that hasn't changed that much. Dostoyevsky described it too vividly.*
...people speak sometimes about the ‘animal’ cruelty of man, but that is terribly unjust and offensive to animals, no animal could ever be so cruel as a man, so artfully, so artistically cruel. (193)
In conclusion, as I said before, this book contains the history of the world. A deluge of misery and wisdom waiting for the reader. The way of representing the Russian soul is the way all souls should be represented; it transcends any geographical boundary, any limitation of time. We all have many sides of the Karamazovs' nature in us. We all have demons tormenting our good judgment. We all know what we should do and, sometimes, we simply can't do it. I can't justify everything but we are humans. I want to understand, I need to. We are susceptible to failure. To negligence. To vileness, dishonesty and many other abhorrent things. Once mistakes are made, only the most fortunate ones are able to find a path toward redemption. In this book, in this Russia which portrays the world of all times, some did. And some had to endure the bitter punishments that the choices in their lives have brought upon them.
‘I love mankind,’ he said, ‘but I am amazed at myself: the more I love mankind in general, the less I love people in particular, that is, individually, as separate persons... (56)
Too human. We all hear the sounds of a ravenous solitude echoing in the dark depths of our beings; they often make us act by instinct, forgetting that we have been blessed—or doomed—with reason. Moreover, they make us forget to feel love. And that, indeed, is a faithful depiction of what hell must feel like. A hell to which we will soon arrive by repeating to ourselves:
everything is permitted .
May 05, 14-Update June 17, 19
*Just another reader's opinion.
** Also on my blog.
Rating: really liked it
I finished reading this book at precisely 0205 hours today. The night still lay majestically over the impending dawn, and in its blackened stillness, swayed the echoes of this imperious book. The walls of my room, at once, turned into a fortress for Dostoevsky’s army of thoughts, and I, right in the middle of it, found myself besieged with its diverse, haphazard but mighty blizzard.
I am no stranger to this rambling Russian’s precocious visions and forbearance and yet, and yet, this work, swells much beyond even his own creator and spills over…. well, almost,
everything.
A maniacal land-owner is murdered and one of his three sons is the prime suspect. Thus, ensues a murder trial and in its fold, fall hopelessly and completely, the lives of all the three brothers – the brothers Karamazov.
A life, when spans a trajectory both long and substantial, ends up writing a will that is both personal and universal. A notebook of reflections, a source of knowledge, an oasis of love and a mirror of perpetuity. And may I dare say that for D, this might well be a biography, which he, in his quintessential mercurial satire, chose to write himself, under the garb of fiction.
Dmitri, Ivan and Alyosha present the very tenets on which life gets lived, or even more, passed on. The impulsive and emotional Dmitri, the calculative and intelligent Ivan and the naïve and spiritual Alyosha represent the microcosm of a society which wagers war on the name of religion, status, power, values and ideals. And D takes each of these causes and drills, and drills, and drills even more, their various interpretations.
Religion, and church, take centre stage for a good 350 pages of this work. Amid homilies and confessions, monasteries and surrender, is pushed disturbing ideals that can rock one’s faith.
If you are surrounded by spiteful and callous people who do not want to listen to you, fall down before them and ask for their forgiveness, for the guilt is yours too, that they do not want to listen to you. And if you cannot speak with the embittered, serve them silently and in humility, never losing hope. And if everyone abandons you and drives you out by force, then, when, you are left alone fall down on the earth and kiss it and water it with your tears, and the earth will bring forth fruit from your tears, even though no one has seen or heard you in your solitude.
Aye, aye, I hear you, D and while some of it makes so much sense to my theist heart, some of it look outright suicidal. But why again, am I tempted to always, measure the righteousness, even lesser, the likeability, of my action from the perspective of my audience? Why make an ideal on a bed that doesn’t smell of
my skin? I go to the board and think.
Philosophising, as he does with such ease and amiability, isn’t without unleashing a thundering dose of dichotomies. He steals the mirror from my room and turns it towards me: 'Oh, so you believe in the good? How nice! But, well, then, how come the devil lurks in the dark corners of your room? No? You don’t agree with me? Oh where does all the cursing and ill-will spring from that you aim, with such precise ferocity, towards the people you don’t quite find to your liking? From where does all the impiety and malice, that you secretly drink with panache, emerge from leaving you intoxicated for hours, if not days?' Sheepishly, I dig the chalk a little deeper into the board, and think.
And while I grope to find answers to his questions, I cheat and fall back on his treatise for hints, and insights.
You know, Lise, it’s terribly difficult for an offended man when everyone suddenly starts looking like his benefactor.
Why might a fallen man, a beggar, still keep a flame of dignity burning in his heart? Why might a harangued father, drive away his heirs from money, while spending his whole life hoarding for them? Why might a pauper, throw away his last penny on trifles, despite carrying a clear picture of his imminent doom in his eyes? Why might a pure heart, deliberately dirty his soul with pungent secrets, knowing there were no ways to erase them? Because deep down, what bind us, irrespective of our backgrounds, are the same threads: love, jealousy, ambition, hatred, revenge, repentance. In various forms, they dwell in us, and drive us, to give their formless matter, shape in different people, in different ways, at different places and in different times. I write a few words on the board and pause to ponder.
But, make no mistake; D turns the mirror on himself too and takes digs on his own character, because, after all, what life have we lived if we didn’t learn to laugh at ourselves? Laugh, yes; ah yes! There is plenty of humor ingrained, albeit surreptitiously, in this dense text and works like a lovely whiff of cardamom wafting over a cup of strong tea.
Ivan Fyodorovich, my most respectful son, allow me to order you to follow me!
There, I made a smiley on the board. I dropped the chalk and wondered: what created so much debate (and furore perhaps) when this book was first published in the 19th century? And then, I realized – even without my knowledge, my fingers had imparted two horns to the smiley’s rotund face. Yes, now
that image surely needs to be questioned.
But do ask these questions. Do take the plunge into this deep sea of psychology and philosophy. Do feel the thuds of paradoxes and dualities on your soul. Do allow the unknown elements of orthodoxy and modernism to pucker your skin. Do allow some blood to trickle. Do allow some scars to heal. Because
No, gentlemen of the jury, they have their Hamlets, but so far we have only Karamazovs!”
That’s what!
---
Also on my blog.
Rating: really liked it
“The Brothers Karamazov” has intrigued me for years. I have always been aware of the fact that it is one of the greatest novels ever written so I know I have to read it eventually. Finally, after reading it, I think I get why this is considered great literature-- and though I can't exactly say that I loved it, I admit that I don’t regret reading it.
The plot revolves around the murder of perhaps one of the most despicable characters ever created, Fyodor Pavlovich Karamazov, the father of the Karamazov brothers. This detail about the book only skims the surface because this only serves as the basic architecture for Dostoevsky's philosophy. This novel isn't so much a story as: a lengthy dissertation on human nature; the issues of Dostoyevsky's day; detailed personality profiles; and digressions on every subject the author wanted to pursue, including free will, the existence of God, moral responsibility, and truth.
It's a high-minded novel full of weighty intellectual themes and Dostoevsky’s skill is unquestionable. “The Grand Inquisitor” is a supremely strange chapter , and one of the most unique things I’ve read in literature. The courtroom drama at the end of the novel, would be very hard to match in modern fiction. (view spoiler)
[ In particular, the defense attorney’s closing argument is remarkable for its command of human psychology, as the hired gun from St. Petersburg shows that all the supposedly incriminating circumstances of the case can be understood. (hide spoiler)] And of the family—what a family! Each figure in this household (?) embodies conflicting phases of the author’s great ideas: Fyodor Karamazov, the father, is a sensualist of the lowest type imaginable; Dmitri inherits his father’s passions but is tempered by periods of misgiving; Ivan is a materialist and a cynic. He changes his mind after a severe illness, and his materialistic belief is replaced by intense spiritual curiosity; Alyosha is an idealist, lovable and loving. Dostoevsky’s discordant elements are effectively conveyed in his human characterizations.
That said, “The Brothers Karamazov” still didn’t impress me as much as I expected it to. The story started out painfully slow. In my opinion, a great novel shouldn't require readers to force themselves to stay awake for more than 1/4 of the book in order to become acquainted with initially uninteresting characters. As with the rest of the book, there were many points where Dostoevsky seemed to descend into meaningless details that, to me, did nothing to advance the plot, atmosphere, or characterization.
I feel that the author is disconnected from his audience, and he doesn't seem to care. This comes to a point where I think Dostoevsky frequently loses himself in the meshes of his own word spinning. The book goes off too many tangents and is densely verbose.
I found pages of extraordinary depth and poignancy but they are few and far in between. I find it hard to connect with any of the characters since their personalities are diluted by the manic and morbidly intense verbal flow. Half the book was one of the Karamazovs talking on and on, uninterrupted to an audience as silent and passive as the reader. I frequently spaced out and have to backtrack. I eventually found myself reading this book in a grim desire to finish it and be done, rather than out of a sense of enjoyment.
I admired author's insights into human nature, but all too often, he seemed to make grand proclamations arbitrarily that have little evidence behind them. As if by declaring them with confidence he somehow made them true beyond question. And for whatever unaccountable reason, his preoccupations landed like a relic in my own life. My feelings can be aptly described by Rosewater’s words in Kurt Vonnegut’s “Slaughterhouse Five”:
“There is one other book, that can teach you everything you need to know about life... it's The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoyevsky, but that's not enough anymore.”I still think it’s worth the read, and there is always something to be earned from reading the books of great authors who influenced other great authors. And besides, no matter what my opinion is, Ol’ Dusty is still going strong!
Rating: really liked it
“Above all, don't lie to yourself. The man who lies to himself and listens to his own lie comes to a point that he cannot distinguish the truth within him, or around him, and so loses all respect for himself and for others. And having no respect he ceases to love.”
Fyodor Dostoevsky ~~ The Brothers Karamazov 
This was my introduction to Russian Literature at the age of 14. I remember buying this at a flea market one weekend for $0.50, & feeling very adult since I would be reading a "Russian Novel." Dostoyevsky started a love affair with Russian literature that exists to this day. Oh, and as for the novel, it's one of the best I’ve ever read.
Rating: really liked it
I have read this book three or four times in both English and French translations. In English, grab the Volonhovsky one. I cannot even begin to describe how awesome this book is. If for no other reason than Ivan's two chapters and especially for the Grand Inquisitor, this book is clearly in the upper reaches of the greatest literature ever written in any language. The range of personalities, emotions, and reactions of the various characters - all so fully developed and realistic in that specific Dostoyevsky way - makes the plot move along so very quickly. One's sympathies shift as we vilify Fyodor and idolise Aliosha at first but then we start to feel a bit sorry for Fyodor and resent Aliosha's naïveté as we learn about Misha and Ivan...
There is just so much in this novel to love. This is one of those desert-island books without which the human race would be poorer.
Also highly recommended is Joseph Frank's excellent biography of Dostoyevski if you wish to understand why this book was his last and his greatest.
Ivan's chapters about unbaptized children and The Grand Inquisitor are among the greatest chapters I have ever read, absolutely spell-binding and critical for today's world of "alternative facts" and disdain of objectivity.
Just finished this again, but in audio format. Always so exhilarating!
