Kind of boring if you're looking for a read to entertain you. On the other hand, if you want to really read closely and contemplate a book, this one is full of philosophy. My favorite quote on charity is from this book.

Main character = Jesus. ( )

Another classic from the golden age of Russian literature. I agree with W.J. Leatherbarrow, author of the introductory section of my edition, that this book seems the most personal of Dostoevsky's major works. He was in torment while writing it; among other things losing his shirt at the gambling tables in Baden Baden and quarreling openly with Turgenev, who he despised for his aristocratic airs and leanings towards all things European. (On a side note I happened to be in Baden Baden a few months ago and spent a night gambling in the same beautiful rooms; I tried to breathe in centuries past and conjure an image of Dostoevsky, in his mid-forties and at the height of his literary powers, but hopelessly addicted....)

Brilliant, deep, hardcore ... and lots of great quotes.

On Capital Punishment, and echoing Dostoevsky's own sentence and ultimate pardon:
"“It’s a violation of the soul, nothing less! It is written: “Thou shalt not kill”; because he killed, should he be killed as well? No, that’s wrong. I saw it all a month ago and I can picture it to this day. .... To kill for murder is an immeasurably greater evil than the actual crime itself. Judicial murder is immeasurably more horrible than one committed by a robber. Someone killed by a robber, knifed at night in a forest or somewhere, certainly keeps hoping for rescue right up to the last second. ... But all this final hope, which makes dying ten times easier is taken away by that certain; the sentence is pronounced and the whole agony resides in the fact that there’s no escape. There’s no greater torture in the world than that. ... Who can say that human nature can bear a thing like that without going mad? Why this disgusting, pointless, unnecessary mockery? Perhaps there exists a man who has had his sentence read out to him and been allowed to suffer before being told: “Be off, you’ve been pardoned.” That man could tell you perhaps. Christ himself spoke of such agony and terror. No, a man should not be treated so!”"

On Children:
"“I spent all my time with children, just children. ... I used to tell them everything, keeping nothing back. Their parents and relatives used to get very angry with me because their children couldn’t do without me in the end, always crowding about me; the schoolmaster finally got to be my worst enemy. ... What were they all so afraid of? You can tell a child everything – everything; I’ve always been struck by how little adults understand children, even their own fathers and mothers. Nothing should be kept from children on the pretext that they’re little and it’s too soon for them to know. Such a sad, wretched idea! ... Adults don’t realize that children can give extremely valuable advice in the most difficult situations. Heavens! When that pretty little bird looks at you, so happy and trusting, you are ashamed to betray it! ... Later on he started laughing at me when I said that neither of us would teach them anything, they would teach us. ... The soul is healed through contact with children.”"

“...I really don’t like being among adults, grown-up people; I’ve noticed that long since. I don’t like it because I can’t cope with them. Whatever they say to me, however kind they are to me, I never feel at ease with them for some reason, and I’m always terribly glad when I can get away to my friends – and my friends have always been children – but not because I am a child myself, it was simply because I have always been drawn to children.”

On Crime:
“Impossible crimes? But I can certainly assure you that exactly the same sort of crime, worse perhaps, took place in the past, always has done, not just in this country, but everywhere, and I imagine will continue to take place for a long time to come. The only difference is that in the past they didn’t receive so much publicity, whereas nowadays people have begun to talk openly and even write about them, that’s why it seems such criminals have only just appeared.”

On life and death; what power and torment are in these words:
"I do not recognize any jurisdiction over me and I know that I am beyond the reach of any judicial power. Quite recently I had an amusing thought: what if I suddenly took it into my head to kill anyone I liked, ten people at once even, or perpetrate something frightful, something regarded as the worst possible thing in the world, the court would be at a loss how to deal with me, having two or three weeks to live, now that torture has been abolished. I would die in comfort in their hospital ... I can’t understand why the same idea doesn’t occur to people in my position, not even as a joke. ... Trying to sweeten the last hours of my life? Can’t they realize that the more I forget myself, the more I surrender to this last illusion of life and love, with which they try to screen off Meyer’s wall and everything that is frankly and openly written on it, the unhappier they make me? What do I want with your nature, your Pavlovsk park, your dawns and sunsets, your blue skies and your smug faces, when all this feast that has no end has begun by excluding me alone? What is there for me in all this beauty, when I am forced to be aware every minute, every second, that even this tiny fly buzzing in the sunbeam near me, even that is a participant in all this festival and chorus, knows its place, loves it, and is happy, while I am the sole outcast, and only my cowardice has prevented me from wanting to face it before now! ... What point is there in my humility in all this? Why couldn’t I just be devoured without demanding that I praise what is devouring me? Will somebody up there really be offended that I don’t want to wait out my two weeks? ... I shall die, looking directly at the source of power and life, and I shall not want this life! If I had had the power not to be born, I would certainly not have accepted existence on these absurd terms. But I still have the power to die, though the days I render back are numbered. No great power, and no great revolt either.”

Also:
"What if I didn’t have to die! If life was returned to me – what an eternity it would be! And it would all be mine! I would turn every minute into an age, nothing would be wasted, every minute would be accounted for, nothing would be frittered away!”

On the good-hearted:
"God seeks good people, of course, and he has no use for the wicked and wayward; the wayward ones especially, who decide one thing today and talk differently tomorrow. You follow me Alexandra Ivanovna? They say I’m a queer one, Prince, but I can tell people apart. The heart is what matters, the rest doesn’t count. You need brains too of course...perhaps that’s what matters, after all. Stop smiling, Aglaya, I’m not contradicting myself: a foolish woman with a heart and no brains is as bad as one with brains and no heart. Old but true. I’m the fool with the heart and no brain, you’re the other way round; we’re both miserable and we both suffer.”

On Honesty:
“The main thing is that my life has already changed utterly. I left a lot behind there, a very great deal. It’s all disappeared. As I sat in the railway carriage, I thought: “Now I’m on my way to be among people. Perhaps I don’t know very much, but a new life has begun.” I resolved to conduct myself honestly and firmly. I might be bored and miserable among people, but my first decision was to be polite and open with everyone; no one could ask more of me than that. Perhaps they would look on me as a child here as well – let them! Everybody regards me as an idiot for some reason...”

On the impact one can have on other's lives:
"How can you know what seed may have been dropped into his soul forever by the “little old general” he still hadn’t forgotten after twenty years? How can you know, Bakhmutov, what significance this contact between one personality and another can have in the destiny of that other?...We have here a man’s entire life and the countless ramifications which are hidden from us. ... Scattering your seed, in offering charity, in performing your good deed in whatever fashion it may be, you give away part of your personality and take in part of another’s, there is a mutual communion, and with a little more attention you will be rewarded by knowledge, the most unexpected discoveries. ... all your thoughts, all the seeds you have broadcast, perhaps already forgotten, will take root and flourish; he who received it from you will pass it on to another. And how do you know what part you will play in the resolution of the destinies of mankind?"

On Happiness and the love of life:
"What does it matter if there’s a bottomless pit of backward and wicked people for every one progressive man? That’s the reason I am so happy now – I’m convinced now that it isn’t a bottomless pit at all, it’s all living material! There’s no need to be embarrassed if we’re absurd, is there? It’s a fact that we are absurd, light-minded, addicted to bad habits, we’re bored, we don’t know how to look at or understand anything, we’re all like that, aren’t we, all of us, you, I and everyone else! ... Ah, what are my grief and misfortune to me, if I have the capacity to be happy? Do you know, I can’t understand how one can pass a tree and not be happy at seeing it! Talk to a man and not be happy at loving him! Oh, it’s just that I can’t find the words...and so many beautiful things at every step that even the most desperate man finds beautiful! Look at a child, look at God’s dawn, look at the grass growing, look into the eyes that look at you and love you...”

Also the flipside:
“I couldn’t bear those people bustling and peeping about, eternally anxious, glum, and fearful, scurrying about me on the pavements. Why their everlasting misery, why the eternal anxiety and bustle; their everlasting glum nastiness (because they are nasty, nasty and spiteful)? Whose fault is it if they are unhappy and incapable of living, though they each have sixty years of life ahead of them? ... If he’s alive, everything must be in his power! Whose fault is it that he doesn’t understand that? ... What matters is life, life alone, the continuous and infinite process of discovering it, not the discovery itself!”

On Loneliness:
"In front of him was the brilliant sky, with the lake below and the bright and limitless horizon all around him, seeming to go on forever. He gazed for a long time, tormented by his emotions. He now remembered stretching his arms out to that bright, endless blue, and weeping. What was tormenting him was that he was completely alien to all this. What was this feast, what was this permanent grand festival, which had no end, to which he had for long been drawn, always – ever since childhood, but could not join. Every morning the same bright sun came up; every morning there was a rainbow on the waterfall; every evening the highest snow-capped mountain, far off at the sky’s rim, glowed with purple flame; every ‘tiny fly’ buzzing near him in the hot sunlight was a participant in that chorus: it knew its place, loved it, and was happy; every blade of grass grew and was happy! Everything had its own path and everything knew its own path, and went forth with a song and returned with a song; he alone knew nothing and comprehended nothing, not people, not sounds, he was alien to everything, an outcast."

On Love of fellow man:
“Is it possible to love everyone, all people, all one’s neighbors? I’ve often put that question to myself. Of course not, it’s unnatural even. The abstract love of humanity almost always comes down to loving oneself alone.”

On old age:
"Firstly, she was a woman, a fellow creature, or human being as they put it nowadays; she’d lived, lived a long time, and finally reached her span. At one time she’d had children, a husband, household, relatives, all that bubbling around her, so to speak, all the laughter, so to speak, then all of a sudden, complete blank, everything vanished and her left alone, like...a kind of fly, bearing some immemorial curse. And so, at length, God brought her to her end."

On Originality:
"Everywhere, throughout the world, lack of originality has always been looked on since time immemorial as the outstanding quality and highest recommendation of a sensible, businesslike, and practical man, and ninety-nine percent of men (at the very least) have always held this opinion, with only one percent regarding the matter differently, then as now. ... What loving mother, for example, would not be dismayed and sick with fright if her son or daughter should deviate a fraction from the rails: “No, better if he’s happy and has a comfortable life, and no originality”, is what every mother thinks as she rocks her infant. ... In actual fact, the only person among us who could not become a general is the original man, in other words, the restless man. ... a certain dullness of mind seems to be an almost essential qualification, if not for every public servant, then at least for anyone seriously intent on making money."

On Religion:
"Well sir”, she said, “just as a mother rejoices when she notices her baby smile for the first time, so does God rejoice every time he beholds from on high a sinner kneeling before him, praying with all his heart.” This was what a simple peasant woman told me, in practically those words – a thought so profound, so subtle, so truly religious, comprehending the whole essence of Christianity, that is, the whole concept of God as our Father and of God rejoicing in man, like a father rejoicing in his child – the fundamental idea of Christ! ... the essence of religious feeling has nothing to do with reasoning, or transgressions, or crimes, or atheism; it is something quite different and always will be, it is something our atheists will gloss over and avoid discussing. The important thing, though, is that you will find it most quickly and clearly in a Russian heart, that’s my conclusion!”

On Virtue:
"Compassion would instruct even Rogozhin and lend purpose to his existence. Compassion was the most important, perhaps the sole law of human existence."

On the "younger generation":
“There are awfully few decent people hereabouts, there’s really no one you can respect unreservedly. You can’t help looking down on them, and yet they all insist on respect; Varya most of all. And have you noticed, Prince, how everybody’s on the make these days! Here, I mean, in Russia, in this beloved country of ours.” ( )

can't wait to get down to some simple Dostoyevsky after all the ridiculously complex crap I read. I've only ever read C&P and Notes from the Underground, and the plot to this one sounds cool. Nietzsche's love of D sort of prompted me to buy this.

This is easily my favorite of the Dostoevsky I have read.
The prince seems to be a willingly vulnerable character amid a hard selfish world. For some reason, a brief episode with two unpleasantly nationalist Poles sticks in my mind. ( )

I liked this translation. If you "can't read" Dostoevsky, this is the one for you. ( )

This book greatly exceeded my somewhat high expectations. I had earlier read his three other monumental classics, 'The Demons', 'The Brothers Karamazov', and 'Crime and Punishment', and expected this one to be a bit worse than those. Instead, I found it to be brilliant -- much better than 'The Demons'.

This is primarily a sequence of very extended conversations. That doesn't sound like it would make a good book, but it does -- one of Dostoyevsky's best. ( )

Is the title ironic? or pragmatic?: I had read just two Dostoevsy novel before this - 'The Brothers Karamazov' and 'Notes from the Underground', but lots of Turgenev and some other Russians - Kropotkin, Goldman, .... I also have some connection with Russian people because some of my work colleagues are Russian ex-patriots (one even carries a family name mentioned at one point in 'The Idiot').

Russian naming is difficult for those of us who do not have the Russian background, and 'The Idiot' was hard to keep straight in my mind - I probably didn't feel comfortable with names to near the end of this very long novel. There's Pavlovitch and Pavlischtev - not the same person. The hero Myshkin is also Lyov Nikolayevitch. Gavril is also Ganya (the short form of his name). With a large suite of characters, tracking these names is not easy. Perhaps a publisher/translator might provide a guide for non-Russian readers. I did find some connection through my knowledge of music: Madame Epanchin, Lizaveta Pokofyevna reminded me of Prokofiev, and the young man dying of consumption, Ippolit, reminded me of Ippolitov-Ivanov.

This novel is a psychological thriller and it may be unbelievable to most readers. How did Dostoevsky know that there are people in the world like Myshkin - perhaps he was one himself, perhaps he observed and understood one. Myshkin, perhaps because of his own 'illness' is attuned to everyone else's needs - sacrificing his own needs as totally without value. So what happens when two women fall in love with him (strange though each of them is)? He wants to love them both. Neither can accept that, but still he cannot let go. This seems to be a recipe for disaster (and in some ways it is), but Myshkin flourishes where he might not have because he has the most extraordinary view of the value of every moment of life. Early on he describes a guillotine execution he had observed and how the man being executed clung to every moment of his life - trying to maximise the richness of it even as the blade came down on his neck. Does Dostoevsky really believe that this is an idiotic way to live life? Or is he recommending that we should all pay more attention, be less flippant with the time that passes us by?

One of the women who fall in love with Myshkin is one of Madame Epanchin's daughters - Aglaia Ivanovna. Despite her love, Aglaia torments Myshkin (but that's not of much significance to him). Here is a quote that meant so much to me - a real insight into Myshkin's personality. 'There is no doubt that the mere fact that he could come and see Aglaia, again without hindrance, that he was allowed to talk to her, sit with her, walk with her was the utmost bliss to him; and who knows, perhaps, he would have been satisfied with that for the rest of his life.'

This novel is hard work, and it's not a happy story. But it is rewarding in its insight into human nature. If you read it you will have to decide for yourself if people like Myshkin actually do exist. And if you happen to meet one - how should you interact with them?

other recommendations:
explore the philosophy of phenomenology - I don't have a preferred book to suggest
as a contrast - 'Spring Torrents' - Ivan Turgenev (the author is mentioned in 'The Idiot')
'Under Western Eyes' - Joseph Conrad
'Sylvie and Bruno' - Lewis Carroll

My least favorite Dostoevsky so far. Excellent characterizations and philosophical ideas get horribly bogged down by a boring soap-opera-esque plot. Worth it if you already love Dostoevsky or Russian literature, but go with "Crime and Punishment" if it's your first taste of the unique Fatherland. ( )

A really thinking book, and a heart-breaking one at the end. Tremendous plotting makes the book hard to put down. Crime and Punishment is an excellent book and although it deals more blood and guts issues The Idiot is a deeper, subtler probing into the human character. ( )

great book
not light reading

My favorite one...
The Prince Miskin - one of a kind, a great figure. Enjoyed every single page of the book - even though the ending is somewhat sad... but realistic. ( )

My second book by Dostoevsky. It's about the character of a man named Prince Myshkin and how he affects those around him. Although most people consider him an idiot because of his simplicity, he abounds in humility and selfless love that people can't help but be attracted to. ( )

1530 The Idiot, by Fyodor Dostoyevsky translated by David Magarschack (read 3 Aug 1979) This book, read while on a trip to Europe, was not at all what I expected. It was really heavy going, and, though I am supposedly much better attuned to the meaning of great literature now than previously, I felt the book evinced its 1869 composition date much more than Crime and Punishment (read when I was practically uneducated: 1948) and The Brothers Karamazov. The book was full of talk, and some of the characters never came alive for me. And I felt the idiot was such, and saw nothing of Christ in him--in fact, his diatribe against Christ's Church as far as I was concerned made him most un-Christ-like. ( )

I liked The Idiot quite a bit, but I was disappointed by the way it ended. I'll spoil a bit of it for you now without specifics: it doesn't end well or happily. It doesn't end like I expected, however. The way the book is set up, it could hardly end happily for everyone involved, but I didn't expect it to be quite the downer that it was. The book was well-written, the characters were very well drawn and distinct, though some of the dialogue was a bit confusing and I blame it on the translation from Russian.

The eponymous character from The Idiot is not actually an idiot, but rather someone who is considered so because of the open, honest and naive way that he meets the world. One hopes for him to triumph, to come out on top, but unfortunately his fate is more realistic than that. He, in some ways, reminded me of Alexei from The Brothers Karamazov.

The Idiot is a good book; it's worth reading even if it isn't as edifying as The Brothers Karamazov, but be warned that it won't end even as well as The Brothers Karamzov does. ( )

NOTES: Re-read. The first part is absolutely rivetting, incredible, genius. The other two parts still have startlingly wonderful passages, but are also a little muddled and long-winded. I think the premise that Prince Mishkin is a Christ-character only really works because of how much Dostoyevsky relaxes this idea, and makes Mishkin very real, somewhat flawed, and certainly not just about innocence. For instance, definitely there are some carnal passions flowing, to make Mishkin fall in love with the two prettiest girls around! ( )

So far, this book has been really interesting. Before I started to read it, I had this image that Dostojevski would be really hard to read and it would take forever for me to finish the Idiot, but instead it has been suprisingly light to read. Dostojevski is a master of creating chaotic happenings and situations as well as exellent characters and personalities. Looking forward to finish the Idiot! ( )

This book was incredibly long and at times rather dull. Though I feel that it is worth reading, it is not for the faint of heart. Picking up this book is a huge commitment of time. However, looking back on it the story was an interesting one and it was not a book that I ever thought of giving up on. ( )

I absolutely loved this story. Dostoevsky is so elegant in his writing about The Prince. Throughout the story I found myself loving Myshkin and then hating him and then loving him again. The characters are so well described that you can really imagine them so well everything from what they wear to what they look like. Their personalities are so perfectly described, each character is in his or her own way perfect. ( )

I really liked this book to start with. It's well writeen, but i didn't like the way the story ended. I wasn't expecting it. ( )

I would've loved this book. The ending spoiled it for me thought. I like it still, i just didn't really see the ending coming. I won't spoil it, but it's pretty depressing. ( )

Russian Classic

Princy Myshkin is perceived by others around him as being an idiot, but I will leave it up to the reader to decide whether he really is one. Some characters perceive him to be the most trustworthy man they have ever meant, while others call him an intellectual and a democrat. Yet, most revert back to calling him an idiot.

The book is full of the basest characters, and only Myshkin can offer them a shot at redemption. He sees them for their true selves, good or bad, and loves them for who they are. Myshkin has been called a Russian Christ and is one of the most provocative characters that I have come accross in literature.

In addition to Dostoevsky's strong characterization, this book also includes the author's critique of capital punishment, the role of women in society, and the role of aristocracy. The book is both introspective and political, although not overly so. I found it to be a new favorite of mind, and I am sure it will stick with me for awhile. It is a very good novel. ( )

Not a typical character- one who you often feel ashamed or embarrassed for. Interesting parallels to the author's life. Prison- epilepsy- are prevalent topics. Distracting change of tone at the end of the book. ( )

a complicated collection of characters that has made the novel one of the best classics. ( )

This was my first Dostoevsky and I thoroughly enjoyed it. I found the characters engaging and while alone each might be a bit of a bore, when thrown in a room together the collective was astonishing.

My favorite character in the novel who never failed to make me laugh was Lebedev. I just loved the way he always confessed to the people (usually Myshkin) he wronged.

Just a couple of random thoughts about this book...

• Myshkin as a Christ-like figure: mostly not. he still came across to me more of a simpleton. his constant self-blaming for the events around him, his worry, his sometimes spontaneous actions or indecisive floundering doesn't fit into a Christ-like mold. He was more like one those people you look at, listen to, cluck your tongue, and show compassion towards because you know that something is 'not quite right' with him. it seems the only person he came to 'save' was Nastassya, and at that he failed miserably.

Though he showed traits of Christianity - altruistic, compassionate, meek - he's not walking on a clear path but merely bouncing around through a maze of 'sinful' characters.

Christ came to earth with a mission that he clearly understood; he was a teacher. Myshkin went to St. Petersburg to 'meet people'; he was a student.

• Love vs pity: Myshkin I believed truly loved Aglaya and merely pitied Nastassya and unfortunately his pity (and desire to protect/help) was stronger than his love. He saw the damage in Nastassya's eyes and felt he was the only one who could help her and this he chose over the love of Aglaya.

• Ippolit's attempted suicide and declaration: Ippolit was what, 18 years old? He was just a kid that knew he was dying. I forgave him his melodramatic suicide attempt and rant. How others stood around and laughed at him reinforced for me the 'idiot' in all of them. ( )