The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoyevsky

If God does not exist, then everything is permitted—this seemed to be the central point of argument Fyodor Dostoyevsky brought up in The Brothers Karamazov. Originally intended to be a trilogy, he wrote this amazing book to follow the life of a notorious family, the Karamazovs; from the father: Fyodor Pavlovich, to the three (legitimate) sons: Dmitri, Ivan, Alyosha, and (most probably) illegitimate son: Smerdyakov. They are entangled into an intricate love-suspicion-jealousy-hatred relationship throughout the story, which lead to destruction both to (most of) themselves and to people around them.

So, how did Dostoyevsky put the above argument into this nicely-woven story? From the beginning the doubt and rejection of God and immortality scattered throughout the chapters. But the most serious one is in these two famous chapters: “Rebellion” and “The Grand Inquisitor”. In “Rebellion” Ivan poured out his disappointment of God for letting injustice and suffering happened to innocent people, apparently, for nothing. While “The Grand Inquisitor” is a poem Ivan wrote to question about free will God had imposed upon man. He believed that free will is impossible burden for mankind, because we will always have to answer to our consciences; that we will never be happy whichever path of life we choose, good or evil. If that was the case, then why wasting your energy by doing good? Is that true? Dostoyevsky let us readers judge the case by following the faith of the Karamazov brothers.

Of the three (plus one—the illegitimate) sons, Alyosha was the only one who chose “good” from the beginning. However, he too had doubt—albeit small—when his beloved Father Zosima’s corpse decomposed shortly after his death, while everyone was almost sure a miracle would happen to the saintly monk. But Alyosha soon got through his doubt. Dmitri, on the other hand, started as a scoundrel and sensualist; have plunge to the lowest, but finally managed to crawl up to the light. In the crucial moment, “something inside” ripped him from the fatal act—that is conscience.

But the most interesting case is Ivan. His “conversation” with the Devils shows how strenuous the battle of his conscience was; how bad his soul has been contaminated by evil power. Ivan was not atheist; he just did not accept God’s “interference” in human life; hence his belief of if God does not exist, then everything is permitted. That way, so he believed, man could do whatever he likes without weighing his conscience, and that would make him happy. This ideology eventually provoked a murder, and Ivan did suffer from his conscience. I’m glad though that in the end his good conscience won the battle at the end.

Moral value of this book is, that man must try first to understand God’s plan for humankind; and this must not be done with mind only, but much more with reflective soul. To logical mind, conscience did make one suffer; either when he tries to be good or, even more, when he does evil. And to be good is arduous, especially when one is born from a bad family like Karamazovs. What then? Dostoyevsky answered this by writing quite lengthy passages of Father Zosima’s speeches in the early chapters—which, I confess, seemed not to be related to the story when I read it, but made sense in the end. These passages contain some aspects that were missing from Ivan’s ideology: humility, and “all responsible for one another”—the later applied not only in evil, but also in love or good deeds. Young Zosima’s turning point moment was marked by his humility to his servant whom he has beaten the night before his planned duel. The same worked for Alyosha. Remember how Alyosha, when he was disappointed at Father Zosima’s humiliation, went to Grushenka’s, and what has made him turning toward “light” again then? Is it not after Grushenka pitied him; that Alyosha was astonished that she had pity on him—he who was nobody? Is it not a remark of humility too? Lastly, the remark of all responsible for one another appeared in Ilusha and the children story. Ilusha’s sorrow was caused by Dmitri is an example of how one evil deed to one person might cause suffer to a lot of people. The same also applies to love and good deeds.

So, Ivan’s ideology might partly be right; that free will could cause suffering. But on the other hand, it is also true that from freewill too love, charity, affection, and in the end happiness, was born.

5/5 stars for this great book; I would like to reread it someday!

Death Comes for the Archbishop by Willa Cather

It’s official! Willa Cather will join the short list of Fanda’s favorite female writers. Other than Agatha Christie, J.K. Rowling, and Edith Wharton, most of my favorite writers have been males.

Ruth has told me that it is a slow-moving read, very quiet, a-lazy-day reading. And since my previous reading is Siddharta, which was so deep and meditative, I was so grateful to get next into this book (and will definitely read more of Willa Cather!).

Actually Death is based on life and career of two historical French Catholic priests who served as missionaries on the New Mexico around 19^th century. Cather then wove them into this beautiful and quiet narrative; following neither plot, nor chronology. From scattered stories or events, Cather took us to learn not only the missionaries’ struggles against rooted faith of the Mexicans and Indians, but also the unfriendly landscape, the corrupt priests, and the injustice suffered by the innocent people.

With her slow pace, Cather was able to show vividly the raw but beautiful wild nature among the desserts and prairies. It is interesting and at the same time entertaining. And she was also brilliant in building the characters and highlighting the two priests’ sweet and mutual friendship. Their friendship, especially, is so sweet—how they were so different, but could understand each other, and always ready to support the other when needed. And through Cather’s deep scrutiny of these two personalities, we can see what make a good missionary.

Bishop (later archbishop) Latour is really fit for the post; he’s intelligent, healthy, mature, organized, with high discipline and self-respect. However he always feels lonely and unfulfilled, though he has achieved his ambition to build a cathedral, in the end his mission felt like a duty satisfyingly accomplished, and that’s all. The very opposite of his archbishop, Father Joseph “Blanchet” Vaillant is a warm, humble, and easy going person with weak health. He might not have had brilliant achievement, but he does his works with humble joy, even when he must sacrifice his own comfort. I think Father Joseph is the true missionary—he is chosen by God to do His Wish. And with his simplicity, he earned many souls. But in the end, both are really chosen by God—side by side, each with all in his power—to plough His Field in New Mexico.

What a refreshing, calm reading this has been!

The House of Mirth: The Second Reading

Reading your favorite book for the second time can sometimes be quite risky. You can end up either liking it the more, or disliking it. Because on second reading, you would be reading more thoroughly; examining the characters more closely, analyzing and calculating every cause and effect. Maybe you would still love it because the author wrote it beautifully, but most probably you would see the characters differently. Then you only focused on their fates, but now you might also see their flaws. It happened to me when giving Wharton’s The House of Mirth a second reading.

I still love it, yes, and perhaps even love it more now, as this time no curiosity on the plot obstructed me from savoring Wharton’s beautiful prose. But, as I delved more deeply, I began to question my (blind) judgment on a character I used to praise then. I’m talking about Lawrence Selden. Until last month he seemed almost perfect to me, now I began to see his flaw; that is his lack of trust in Lily when he saw her fled from Trenor’s house that night. But that didn’t make me dislike him; on the contrary, it made Selden more humane. Though I kept thinking how everything might have been different if Selden kept his plan.

On my first reading, my focus was on Lily Bart, whom I analyzed for WEM project. Now I had the leisure to take on Selden. I begin to feel that Selden is the motor of the whole story. It all begins and ends with him. Maybe Selden is Wharton’s own view of the society at that time. I haven’t had close study on her, but from wiki I learned that though growing up in upper class society, Wharton was one of its hardest critics. Selden, too, enjoys the privilege of being with the upper class, but he also ‘disgusted’ with them.

One of the most interesting things about Selden, is his theory of “the republic of the spirit”—the freedom of having choices to make; not being helplessly dictated by society. Wharton also rejected the standards of fashion and etiquette that were expected of young girls at the time, intended to enable women to marry well and to be displayed at balls and parties. She thought these requirements were superficial and oppressive [Wikipedia]. Instead, she was eager to have higher education. I think this is what Selden’s idea with his republic of the spirit—something that Lily Bart envied him for.

Another interesting point is, throughout the novel, there is a sense of ambiguity in Lily’s character. Lily Bart is introduced as an intelligent woman, who is able to skillfully read human characters to use it as a weapon for her advantage. She has maneuvered geniusly to attract Percy Gryce—though she failed in finishing it. Yet, she failed to predict her aunt’s reaction to her (rumored) scandal. I agree with Carry Fisher, that the cause of Lily’s fall is laziness and her longing of freedom and happiness (thanks partly to Selden’s influence!). In the Percy Gryce failure, it makes sense, but how can she be lazy when her whole life was depended on her aunt’s legacy? I just don’t get it.

All in all, I am grateful I have given The House of Mirth a second reading; I love it more now, and would one day revisit it again. Thanks to Adam for hosting the #CBAM2017, and to you all who have been reading this treasure with me.

For more about this book, you can browse my analysis and review on my first reading.

The Three Theban Plays: The Oedipus Cycle by Sophocles

For me, Greek plays always have their own charms. Compared to Renaissance’s or any modern plays, I find Greek’s is more intense in emotion. It always feels like I was in a theatre watching the performance live. I have actually never done this, but still….

If I remember correctly, the first play I have ever read years ago is Oedipus the King—I read Indonesian translation then—and have been mesmerized by it. One aspect I love in Greek’s plays is the chorus. It reminds me that I’m reading a play, not a story written as a play.

Oedipus Cycle begins with Oedipus the King, the most famous one. Reading it at much mature age made me realize a wider theme it covers than just a tragedy of a son who married his mother and killed his father—though unintentionally. It speaks a lot about destiny. Can we, mortal, avoid it? Oedipus had tried hard by fleeing from his country; nevertheless it happened without his knowing. And the blow becomes harder because, firstly, he has listened to the prophecy (and worked hard to resist his destiny), and secondly, he then insisted on having all the truth. I imagined, if he have never known the prophecy, he would still have stayed with the Laius; never have come to Thebes to become their King with pride, and to marry Jocasta… and so on. But speaking about destiny, one often comes to think also about free will. “Is destiny a real thing? That makes us like some puppet; don’t have control over our life? If so, does free will also exist?” So… when we are still thinking hard (without coming to a satisfying conclusion), we might want to move on to the second play: Oedipus at Colonus. And there… only there do we get the answer!

Oedipus at Colonus is the opposite of Oedipus the King, in term of the theme. Oedipus—in his old age and banishment—is now a more humble person. He admitted how he was dependent on his daughters’ loving care and Theseus’ generosity; that without them, he was helpless. He didn’t grudge against his bad fate; he could accept it and be peaceful with himself. Only after that, his life became meaningful by giving others better lives. How beautiful the lessons Sophocles taught us from these two plays; that Antigone—the last play—was almost felt like anti-climax.

All in all, Oedipus cycle is a very emotional, intense, engaging, and entertaining plays. My favorite is perhaps Oedipus at Colonus—I was happy for Oedipus’ reconciliation, and was fallen in love with Theseus’ calmness, generosity, and noble character.

The Classic Book-a-Month Club 2017 #CBAM2017

The end-of-year-excitement for book blogger started when bloggers begin to post their reading challenges or reading groups of the next year. Funny it is that you were super-excited when planning the reading, but felt under-pressured while executing the plan. Well, at least, for me.

For 2017, actually I have planned to “read with the flow”, opening unlimited reading choices according to my mood. But…. this one is too tempting to be ignored:

The Classic Book-a-Month Club 2017 (#CBAM2017) hosted by Adam

I will only join in about 4 or 5 months of it:

February

The Three Theban Plays by Sophocles - DONE

I have read Oedipus the King about 5 years ago; and loved it. Maybe now is the perfect time to revisit it in English version (I read Indonesian translation back then).

March

The House of Mirth by Edith Wharton - DONE

This is one of my most favorite books. Would love to rereading it once again (my last reading was in 2014).

July

Paradise Lost by John Milton

I might or might not pick this. I’m just curious. And I have been itching to read plays and poems again, so…. just maybe…

September

Death Comes for the Archbishop by Willa Cather - DONE

This would be my first Cather. But the theme is interesting, and it’s always exciting to read from an author for the first time.

November

The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoyevsky - DONE

 Just because the book has been in my TBR for too long; time to tackle it!

Other than that, I have been longing to reread The Great Gatsby and The Iliad! And maybe one or two Shakespeare.

What about you, what classics are you excited to read or reread next year?