All the writers of the '40's of the nineteenth century had their individual peculiarities. But in this respect, FeÓdor MikhÁilovitch DostoÉvsky (1821-1880) was even more sharply separated from all the rest by his characteristics, which almost removed him from the ranks of the writers of the epoch, and gave him a special place in literature. The chief cause of this distinction lies in the fact that while most of the other writers sprang from the country regions, being members of the landed gentry class, DostoÉvsky represents the plebeian, toiling class of society, a nervously choleric son of the town; and in the second place, while the majority of them were well-to-do, DostoÉvsky alone in the company belonged to the class of educated strugglers with poverty, which had recently made its reappearance. His father was staff physician in the MÁrya Hospital in Moscow, and he was the second son in a family of seven children. The whole family lived in two rooms, an ante-room and kitchen, which comprised the quarters allotted to the post by the government. Here strictly religious and patriarchal customs reigned, mitigated by the high cultivation of the head of the family. In 1837 FeÓdor MikhÁilovitch and his elder brother were taken to St. Petersburg by their father to be placed With his salary and the money sent to him by his guardian (his father being dead), he had about five thousand rubles a year, but as he was extremely improvident, bohemian, and luxurious in his tastes, he could never make both ends meet. He was still more straitened in his finances when, in 1844, he resigned from the service, which was repugnant to him, and utterly at variance with his literary proclivities, and was obliged to resort to making translations. In May, 1844, he completed his first romance, "Poor People," and sent it to NekrÁsoff by his school-friend GrigorÓvitch. In his "Diary" DostoÉvsky has narrated the manner of its reception by NekrÁsoff (who was preparing to publish a collection), and by ByelÍnsky, to whom the latter gave it. GrigorÓvitch and NekrÁsoff sat up all night to read it, so fascinated were they, and then hastened straight to communicate their rapture to the author. NekrÁsoff then gave the manuscript to ByelÍnsky with the exclamation, "A new GÓgol has made his appearance!" to which ByelÍnsky sternly replied, "GÓgols spring up like mushrooms with you." But when he had read the romance, he cried out, with emotion, "Bring him, bring him to me!" Notwithstanding this, in May, 1849, DostoÉvsky was arrested, along with the other followers of PetrashÉvsky, confined in the fortress, and condemned by court-martial on the charge of having "taken part in discussions concerning the severity of the censorship, and in one assembly, in March, 1849, had read a letter from ByelÍnsky to GÓgol, received from PleshtchÉeff in Moscow, and had then read it aloud in the assemblies at DÚroff's, and had given copies of it to Mombelli to copy. In the assemblies at DÚroff's he had listened to the reading of articles, knew of the intention to set up a printing-press, and at SpyÉshneff's had listened to the reading of 'A Soldier's Conversation.'" All the PetrashÉvskyians were condemned to be shot, and the sentence was read to them on January 3, 1850, on the scaffold, where they stood stripped, in the freezing cold, for twenty minutes, in momentary expectation of their execution. But the death sentence was mitigated in different degrees by the Emperor, DostoÉvsky's sentence being commuted to exile with hard labor for four years, and then service as a common soldier in the ranks. He was dispatched to Siberia two days later, which was on Christmas Eve, according to the Russian reckoning. The wives of the Decembrists (the men exiled for revolutionary plots in 1825, at the accession to the throne of the Emperor Nicholas I.), visited the PetrashÉvskyians in prison at TobÓlsk and gave DostoÉvsky a copy of the Gospels. No other book made its way within the prison walls, and after reading nothing else for the next three But his health was much affected, his nerves having been weak from childhood, and already so shattered that, in 1846, he was on the verge of insanity. Even at that time he had begun to have attacks by night of that "mystical terror," which he has described in detail in "Humiliated and Insulted," and he also had occasional epileptic fits. In Siberia epilepsy developed to such a point that it was no longer possible to entertain any doubt as to the character of his malady. On leaving prison, in 1854, and becoming a soldier, DostoÉvsky was much better off. He was soon promoted to the rank of ensign, wrote a little, planned "Notes from a Dead House," and in 1856 married. At last, after prolonged efforts, he received permission to return to In June, 1880, he delivered a speech before the Society of Lovers of Russian Literature, which won him such popularity as he had never before enjoyed, and resulted in a tremendous ovation, on the part of the public, at the unveiling of the monument to PÚshkin. He was besieged with letters and visits; people came to him incessantly from all parts of St. Petersburg and of Russia, with expressions of admiration, requests for aid, questions, Under the various influences to which DostoÉvsky was subjected, he eventually became what is known in Russia as "a native-soiler," in literature—the leader, in fact, of that semi-SlavyÁnophil, semi-Western school—and towards the end of his life was converted into a genuine Slavophil and mystic. In this conversion, as well as in the mystical theories which he preached in his "Diary," and afterwards in his romances, beginning with "Crime and Punishment," DostoÉvsky has something in common with Count L.N. TolstÓy. Both writers were disenchanted as to European progress, admitted the mental and moral insolvency of educated Russian society, and fell into despair, from which the only escape, so it seemed to them, was becoming imbued with the lively faith of the common people, and both authors regarded this faith as the sole means of getting into real communion with the people. Then, becoming more and more imbued with the spirit of the Christian doctrine, both arrived at utter rejection of material improvement of the general welfare; Count TolstÓy came out with a theory of non-resistance to evil by force, and DostoÉvsky with a theory of moral elevation and purification by means of suffering, which in essence are identical; for in what manner does non-resistance to Nevertheless, a profound difference exists between Count TolstÓy and DostoÉvsky. In the former we see an absence of conservatism and devotion to tradition. His attitude towards all doctrines is that of unconditional freedom of thought, and subjecting them to daring criticism, he chooses from among them only that which is in harmony with the inspirations of his own reason. He is a genuine individualist, to his very marrow. By the masses of the common people, he does not mean the Russian nation only, but all the toilers and producers of the earth, without regard to nationality; while by the faith which he seeks among those toilers, he does not mean any fixed religious belief, but faith in the reasonableness and advantageousness of life, and of everything which exists, placing this faith in dependence upon brisk, healthy toil. DostoÉvsky, on the contrary, is a communist, or socialist. He cares nothing for freedom and the self-perfection of the individual. The individual, according to his teaching, should merely submit, and resignedly offer itself up as a sacrifice to society, for the sake of fulfilling that mission which Russia is foreordained, as God's chosen nation, to accomplish. This mission consists in the realization upon earth of true Christianity in orthodoxy, The character of DostoÉvsky's works is determined by the fact that he was a child of the town. In their form they possess none of that elegant regularity, of that classical finish and clear-cut outline, which impress us in the works of TurgÉneff and GontcharÓff. On the contrary, they surprise us by their awkwardness, their prolixity, their lack of severe finish, which requires abundant leisure. It is evident that they were written in haste, by a man who was eternally in want, embarrassed with debts, and incapable of making the two ends meet financially. At the same time one is struck by the entire absence in DostoÉvsky's works of those artistic elements in which the works of the other authors of the '40's are rich. They contain no enchanting pictures of nature, no soul-stirring love scenes, meetings, kisses, the bewitching feminine types which turn the reader's head, for which TurgÉneff and TolstÓy are famous. DostoÉvsky even ridicules TurgÉneff for his feminine portraits, in "Devils," under the character of the writer KarmazÍnoff, with his passion for depicting kisses not as they take place with all mankind, but with gorse or some such weed growing round about, which one must look up in a botany, while the sky must not fail to be of a purplish hue, which, of course, no mortal ever beheld, and the tree under which the interesting pair is seated must infallibly be orange-colored, and so forth. DostoÉvsky's subjects also present a sharp difference from those of his contemporaries, whose subjects are characterized by extreme simplicity and absence of complication, only a few actors being brought on the stage—not But the most essential quality of DostoÉvsky's creative art is the psychical analysis, which occupies the foreground in the majority of his romances, and constitutes their chief power and value. A well-known alienist doctor, who has examined these romances from a scientific point of view, declares himself amazed by the scientific accuracy wherewith DostoÉvsky has depicted the mentally afflicted. In his opinion, about one-fourth of this author's characters are more or less afflicted in this manner, some romances containing as many as three who are not normal, in one way or another. This doctor demonstrates that DostoÉvsky was a great psychopathologist, and that, with his artistic insight, he anticipated even exact science. And much that he has written will certainly be incorporated in psychological text-books. It is superfluous, after such competent testimony, to insist upon the life-likeness and One further point is to be noted: that notwithstanding the immense number of characters presented to the reader by DostoÉvsky, they all belong to a very limited number of types, which are repeated, with slight variations, in all his romances. Thus, in conformity with the doctrine of the "native-soilers," he places at the foundation of the majority of his works one of the two following types: (1) The gentle type of the man overflowing with tender affection of utter self-sacrifice, ready to forgive everything, to justify everything, to bear himself compassionately towards the treachery of the girl he loves, and to go on loving her, even to the point of removing the obstacles to her marriage with another man, and so forth. Such is the hero of "Crime and Punishment"; such is Prince MÝshkinh in "The Idiot," and so on; (2) The rapacious type, the type of the egoist, brimming over with passion, knowing no bounds to his desires, and restrained by no laws, either human or divine. Such are: StavrÓgin in "Devils," DmÍtry KaramÁzoff ("The KaramÁzoff Brothers"), and so forth. His women also can be divided into two similar, contrasting types; on the one hand, the gentle—the type of the woman who possesses a heart which is tender and loving to self-abnegation, like Nelly and NatÁsha, in "Humiliated and Insulted"; RaskÓlnikoff's mother and SÓnya, in "Crime and Punishment"; NÉtotchka NezvÁnoff, in "The Stripling." On the other hand, there are the rapacious types of capricious, charming women who are tyrannical to the point of cruelty, like PolÍna, in "The Gambler," NastÁsya FilÍppovna in "The Idiot," The reactionary tendency made its appearance in DostoÉvsky almost contemporaneously with its appearance in TurgÉneff and GontcharÓff, unhappily. The first romance in which it presented itself was "Crime and Punishment," the masterpiece in which his talent attained its zenith. This work, in virtue of its psychical and psychological analyses, deserves to rank among the greatest and best monuments of European literary art in the nineteenth century. Unfortunately, it produced a strange impression on all reasonable people, because of the fact that the author suddenly makes the crime of his hero, RaskÓlnikoff, dependent upon the influence of new ideas, as though they justified crimes, committed with good objects. No less surprising is the manner in which the romance winds up with the moral regeneration of RaskÓlnikoff under the influence of exile with hard labor. DostoÉvsky, to be fully appreciated, requires—perhaps more than most writers—to be read at length. But the following brief extract will afford a glimpse of his manner. The extract is from the "Notes from a Dead House." SushÍloff was a prisoner who had been sent to Siberia merely for colonization, for some trifling breach of the laws. During a fit of intoxication he had been persuaded by a prisoner named MikhÁiloff to exchange names and punishments, in consideration of a new red shirt and one ruble in cash. Such exchanges were by no means rare, but the prisoner to whose disadvantage the bargain redounded, generally demanded scores of rubles; hence, every one ridiculed SushÍloff for the cheap rate at which he had sold his light sentence. Had he been able
DostoÉvsky, in all his important novels, has much to say about religion, and his personages all illustrate some phase of religious life. This is nowhere more apparent than in his last novel, "The KaramÁzoff Brothers," wherein the religious note is more powerfully struck than in any of the others. The ideal of the Orthodox Church of the East is embodied in Father ZosÍm, and in his gentle disciple, AlexyÉi (AlyÓsha) KaramÁzoff; the reconciling power of redemption is again set forth over the guilty soul of the principal hero, DmÍtry KaramÁzoff, when he is overtaken by chastisement for a suspected crime. The doubting element is represented by IvÁn KaramÁzoff, who is tortured by a constant conflict with anxious questions. In "The Legend of the Grand Inquisitor," which the author puts into IvÁn's mouth, DostoÉvsky's famous and characteristic power of analysis reached its greatest height. "What Is to Be Done" is the story of a young girl who, with the greatest improbability, is represented as being of the purest, most lofty character and sentiments, yet the daughter of two phenomenally (almost impossibly) degraded people. Instead of marrying the rich and not otherwise undesirable man whom her parents urge on her, and who is deeply in love with her, she runs away with her teacher, and stipulates in advance for life in three rooms. She is only seventeen, yet she promptly establishes a fashion-shop which thrives apace, and puts forth numerous branches all over the capital. Her working-girls are treated ideally and as equals, she working with them, in which lies the answer to "What Is to Be Done?" After a while she falls in love with her husband's dearest friend, who is described as so exactly like him that the reader is puzzled to know wherein she descried favorable QUESTIONS FOR REVIEW
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