This book is a literary book for literary types who take enjoyment from good technique alone. It has extraordinary technique and Dostoyevsky certainly has talent in portraying his protagonist. Unfortunately, the subject matter is a waste of the talent. The book was one amazingly boring monologue about a boring, petty man's petty encounters. It's like the opening scene in Eraserhead with the guy walking down the street stretched out to 2 hours. clip clop clip clop... At first, the monotonous monologue builds tension with the monotony. ( )

Generally I like Dostoevsky very much. However, "Notes From Underground....." is darkly discouraging. The best way I can describe this collection is as a series of philosophical snapshots taken at distinct periods in the author's life. Clearly he was eternally struggling to make meaning of life and it was an anguish filled process. Apparently I prefer the author's storytelling to his autobiographical philosophizing. ( )

Notes from Underground is a condensed, characteristic introduction to Dostoevsky. Dostoevsky has a knack for sacrificing flowery descriptions for bluntly critical, negative character portraits by a first-person narrator, ardent, grave action, and psychological, philosophical, and sociological study. Like Crime and Punishment's Raskolnikov, the Underground Man--one of the most unreliable narrators in literature--lives on the margins of society. He is self-conscious, sensitive, thought-paralyzed, condescending, delusional, socially awkward, paranoid, hypocritical, indecisive, contradictory, circuitous, impulsive, unpredictable, romantic, negative, misanthropic, bitter, friendless, introverted, reclusive, self-loathing, and polemical. The first part of the novel outlines his railing philosophies while living as a recluse, and the second more plot-oriented part leads up to the first. I particularly enjoyed a handful of surprisingly lucid, individualistic, Nietzsche-inspiring theories, the relatively comical scenes with the servant Apollon, and the questions raised about the value of (cathartic) writing and literature from an uncertain, certainly crazy narrator. My main complaint, which arises out of my assent, is the feeling that Dostoevsky's formal requirements were low and thus disorganized due to the consistently inconsistent narrator. ( )