tarigwaemir

Blair Hall Apts., on the Feast of St. Anthelm

I bought an edition of the The Idiot a few weeks ago and just finished rereading it again. I always remember it as one of the first "grown-up" books I completed on my own, which I suppose says something about my reading tastes. It was shortly after we had moved to New York. My mother had checked out the book from the library for herself on someone's recommendation, but I picked it up instead and started reading. A few months earlier, I had attempted Oliver Twist and got stuck at the scene where Mr. Brown is about to adopt Oliver into his home. (I still haven't finished Oliver Twist by the way.) I suppose I found Dostoyevsky more accessible than Dickens, as strange as that sounds. I read it again about five years ago, after writing a paper on The Brothers Karamazov, but I think I skipped ahead to scenes I found memorable rather than doing a proper read-through.

Anyway, my first reading of The Idiot was all about the plot, since I wasn't really capable of comprehending the philosophical themes at the time. But now I find that really strange because I've realized that The Idiot is a rather incoherent novel, much more incoherent than anything else I've read by Dostoyevsky. I remember being confused as to why suddenly everyone knows in Part Two that Prince Myshkin is in love with Aglaia Ivanovna when the two hardly interacted in Part One, and despite rereading it twice, I still don't have a good answer. It's a little odd to explain...I perpetually get the sense that Dostoyevsky is skipping key scenes in his narration--often fairly important scenes at that--and only later doubling back to provide a rushed and not altogether adequate explanation. According to the introduction, The Idiot went through more changes in outline form than any other major novel that Dostoyevsky wrote, with scenes being deleted and then reinstated or recycled. So it's no surprise that the story seems rather fragmented at times. I suppose that's why the pacing of the novel never drags, which may have been why it managed to engross my ten-year old self.

The edition I bought was a Barnes & Noble edition on sale at the Coop, but previously, I've always read the Signet Classics edition, which was available at the local library. The translators are different (Constance Garnett for the former, Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky for the latter), which might explain why certain scenes in the book read differently to me this time around. For example, I remember being particularly struck by Ippolit's "Confession" when I last reread it, but I couldn't find the passage that had moved me so much this time around. Of course, I'm also bringing a very different perspective to the book now. It's strange because I felt a lot of sympathy for Ippolit before; he's not exactly a sympathetic character but I thought I understood his bitterness and pride, even his hypocrisy. But now, I find him rather pathetic and occasionally loathsome. I think it's also because I definitely pick up on more and more nuances with each rereading; people almost never speak directly even if they're not actually lying, with the exception of Myshkin himself and possibly Lizaveta Prokofyevna. I don't think I noticed before the degree to which people were communicating without Myshkin's knowledge until now, especially Lebedev who seems to have been "selling secrets" everywhere. Also completely missed out on the implication of Nastasya Fillipovna pretending to an acquaintance with Yevgeny Pavlovich until this rereading. I know I definitely didn't realize Nastasya Fillipovna had been Totsky's mistress as well as his ward when I read the book for the very first time. I wonder how I managed to get through the book being so oblivious to most of the sexual dynamics. I must have simply accepted Myshkin's opinion of her--that she was innocent but insane--without questioning it.

Another change: I used to think Myshkin's supposed "idiocy" was due solely to his previous condition, but now that I myself am more "socially aware", I can see why he sounds so naive and at times preposterous to the other characters.

What hasn't changed throughout all three readings: Kolya is still my favorite character. Also, Alyosha Karamazov is probably a more realistic character than Myshkin (they're both instances of the same type), but I still like Myshkin better. On the other hand, I prefer Katerina Ivanovna to Nastasya Fillipovna. (Well, I suppose role-wise, the more apt parallel for Nastasya Fillipovna is Grushenka, but psychologically, Katerina Ivanovna is the same sort of character.)

Yours &c.

Post-script: You know, I still find it rather amazing that all of Dostoyevsky's novels were written as chapter-by-chapter serials. Of course, he outlined his novels in advance and kept volumes of notes, but he couldn't just go back and edit a past chapter because it would already have been published. I mean, most novelists published in serial format, so it's not as if it was unusual or anything, but still the mind can't help but boggle at the thought.

Plus, I know I said that The Idiot was incoherent but actually in a certain sense, it's not. I mean, as a casual reader, I would rather like to know the why and how of Myshkin's love for Aglaia Ivanovna (or at least be given some warning in advance), but that's not the point. The essence of the story is the conflict between Myshkin's romantic (i.e. personal) love for Aglaia and his agape for Nastasya; the reason for his love is not as important as the fact of the love itself.