Thirty years ago, at the university, when I read this for the first time I was more interested in the philosophical lines of thought. This time, I was much more impatient with the characters in the novel. I had far less tolerance of their deep flaws. Thirty years ago, though I saw the tragedy in the characters I found emotional release and a kind of pleasure in experiencing the novel. This time I was kept thinking, "make it stop" Mitya is too much. Ivan is too much. Smerdyakov is just awful. This prosecutor is ridiculous. How long can this defense attorney drone on about nothing? Thirty years ago, the lesson of the triumph of child-like faith was mostly lost on me or at least I don't remember thinking about it. Ilyusha had not the smell of decay. The sure-Saint Zossima decayed prematurely. The simple and uncelebrated faith of a little boy received only the brief press of the author's comment. Alyosha and his band of boy disciples would swear to treaure his memory but the greater community might have forgotten him completely. Yet, this boys simple faith could conquer death and its stink. Only one boy received the rebuke of Alyosha. It was the one boy who wanted to grow up, who wanted to be a free thinking man before manhood. It was the teenage boy, Kolya, who tried to snuff out another boys significance, but was contradicted by Alyosha. Yet even he was affirmed as being fully significant in the eyes of God and fully eligable for a resurrection and reunion at the end of the age. A beautiful, lengthy, difficult and rewarding novel. If I keep my wits I hope to read it a third time in this life. ( )

3.5/5 Having gotten through MIDDLEMARCH, ANNA KARENINA--even WAR AND PEACE, I was never so happy to reach 100% on my Kindle. As a former high school English teacher, the one thing I stressed to students over and over when writing was to SHOW and not TELL. Oh, does this novel have too much telling. It's brilliant in parts and overall a compelling story, yet, all that remains in my head is #blahblahblah. Couldn't have finished without the #hashtagbrigade on Litsy. ( )

Long. Arduous. A lot to think about. Good. ( )

This book is too long and too involved to even attempt to write a comprehensive review. Dostoyevsky is brilliant and insightful, but I am unclear as to what, exactly, he was trying to accomplish with this novel. The worst father (really, he is just an ejaculator, because that was the last moment at which he participated in the birth and rearing of his three [or, maybe 4] sons) in the world abuses and debases his children at his whim. They suffer accordingly in their relationships with him and others - especially females. I found that the overall emotion of the book was just too, too (if you know what I mean) - the three sons all seem to be afflicted with the emotional maturity of 14 year old boys - their perceptions of and treatment of women is both childish and annoying - Ivan and Dmitry are given to making fervid declarations about most everything but especially about Grushenka and Katerina Ivanova - like, give it a rest boys, grow up - you fucked up - you trusted women - big mistake mes amis - I did not feel bad about Dmitry's conviction - the guy had it coming - you cannot spend your entire life abusing others at will, and without reason, and then expect consideration from your peers - the worst parts of the book occur when particular characters (Zosima and Ivan come to mind) go on for dozens of pages giving lectures about their individual perceptions of this-or-that dogma or principle - if you want enjoyment, I recommend that you read Tolstoy whose books are much less preachy and much more compelling. I think Dostoyevsky gets credit for the same reason that Thomas Pynchon ("Gravity's Rainbow") and James Joyce ("Ulysses") do - they are all so abstruse that only really cool and highly intelligent people dig their maundering books - or, so it is assumed - nonetheless - I am glad that I read through the 822 pages and I feel enriched in terms of knowing a little bit more about the Russian people and their society - who are so aggressively and endlessly defamed in the America of 2024. ( )

Well, that didn't take long. In one of my favorite lines of his, writing about one of my favorite films, Roger Ebert writes, "'The Fall' is so audacious that when Variety calls it a 'vanity project', you can only admire the man vain enough to make it." This is essentially that: an astonishing 800 page novel about a murder that's not really about a murder but about what Dostoyevsky quotes as the "accursed" questions, per the P-V notes: "God versus reason, human destiny, the future of Russia, and so forth." It swings from the melodramatic actions and speeches of a Bette Davis film to the exacting dissection of an ecclesiastic court. Sometimes this latter proves terribly readable (The Grand Inquisitor); sometimes it just proves terrible (From the Talks and Homilies of the Elder Zosima).

Turgenev said of Dostoyevsky: "He is the nastiest Christian I've ever met." At the moment, I bear sympathy for both accuser and accused. I feel a bit put out at what Dostoyevsky has subjected me to, yet admiring of the marvelous pre-evangelical vanity.

( )