Poor Парфен

To me, the most fascinating part of the first few chapters of Part II was that it felt like a plunge into the mind of an epileptic (at least as Dostoyevsky, an epileptic himself, perceives this disorder). The confusion in Myshkin’s mind, the shifting weather, the ominous meeting with Rogozhin (I'll call him Parfen sometimes), and the spying eyes… The whole setup creates a very powerful atmosphere that is quite palpable.

The opening of Part II re-introduces the by-now-familiar faces in a new light, for example we see Lebedev in his home (which is surprisingly nice and cozy). Together with the time lapse Katia mentioned, this new look at the characters creates the sense that the second half of the novel will be quite different from the first. Indeed, the entire first part took place over the course of one afternoon, it would be hard to keep up this pace. The slow “epileptic” afternoon appears to be the inverse of Part I.

The meeting between Parfen and Myshkin takes center stage in the course of this afternoon. And what a meeting it is: full of suspicious glances, repressed anger and resentment and most of all jealousy, topped with a new closeness between Rogozhin and Myshkin (as Katia mentioned, they became close in Moscow, though we are left only to guess how this happened). Strangely enough, this closeness makes their interaction feel more dangerous, maybe because Myshkin enters Rogozhin’s house and his world, thereby making himself extra vulnerable.

The author gives us plenty of clues to be wary of the meeting: at the very beginning of chapter III he says, “Визит этот был для него, впрочем, в некотором отношении рискованным. Он затруднялся и колебался.” Then, he guesses which is Rogozhin’s house among all the others in the street, but feels apprehensive, “он чувствовал, что ему почему-то будет особенно неприятно, если он угадал.” As readers, we can guess that the house is gloomy and so must its inhabitants be. 

There are numerous details of the tension in Rogozhin throughout their entire meeting, they add up to us readers feeling like Rogozhin is in a desperate state, perhaps as emotionally and psychologically unbalanced as Nastasya Filippovna. It is emphasized that she keeps coming back to him, but we should not overlook that he keeps running back to her, too. He may be her undoing, but what about him? She can be no better for his fate. Why is this happening to him? Is it just her beauty and physical passion for her? It must be something more, because surely there are better ways of dealing with physical passion. The more we learn about their relationship, the stranger it seems. There is anger, maybe even hatred, and humiliation coupled with the more positive feelings of respect and submission, and maybe even hope for the future. And, of course, fear and desperation runs through everything.What a cocktail. 

I would probably go on for too long if I delve into every intriguing detail of the meeting. For now I’ll limit myself to a couple curiosities:

-          Rogozhin says to Myshkin, “Я твоему голосу верю, как с тобой сижу.” It is as if Myshkin’s voice is hypnotizing.

-     When Myshkin is questioning Lebedev about NF, Lebedev describes her as “Искательна [...] Как бы всё ищет чего-то, как бы потеряла что-то.” Later, Myshkin is absentmindedly wandering around St. Petersburg when we come across the following passage: “Несколько времени спустя, на улице, он вдруг как бы что-то припомнил, как бы что-то внезапно сообразил, очень странное, что-то уж долго его беспокоившее. Ему вдруг пришлось сознательно поймать себя на одном занятии, уже давно продолжавшемся, но которого он всё не замечал до самой этой минуты: вот уже несколько часов, еще даже в "Весах", кажется даже и до "Весов", он нет-нет и вдруг начинал как бы искать чего-то кругом себя. И забудет, даже надолго, на полчаса, и вдруг опять оглянется с беспокойством и ищет кругом.” It is like he and NF are connected, and I think Rogozhin mentioned the same thing too—they are in tune. But I wonder why? After all, partially Myshkin’s paranoia is not unfounded—Rogozhin is following him and spying on him. Maybe it is Rogozhin’s behavior towards both of them that unites them and gives them similar disoriented feelings.

When Rogozhin tries to kill Myshkin… I feel sorry for Parfen. The poor guy is really lost, and he seems to have no one to turn to. Myshkin has plenty of admirers and ready-friends, so does NF. But what about Parfen, all alone in the world except for Myshkin—his only friend and his most bitter rival?

The Rogozhin-Myshkin Relationship, Religion, and N. F.

Dostoevsky loves time lapses, I guess because they force you to reconstruct the events that he does not explicitly describe, to really think about the characters and what they are capable of. Or maybe in this case the point is to put us in the shoes of the characters who don't know what the others have been up to (i.e. the Epanchins in Petersburg vs. Myshkin, N. F., Rogozhin in Moscow).

In any case, it's amazing how much Myshkin and Rogozhin have gotten closer after that time lapse. They apparently had a lot of heart-to-hearts in Moscow, which is why Rogozhin calls Myshkin "brother" and "Lev Nikolayevich" (which no one else in the book does!) and Myshkin calls him "brother Parfen." Myshkin even asserts that he is not Rogozhin's enemy, but rather truly loves him. And then there's the emotional scene where, after making fun of faith, Rogozhin asks Myshkin to exchange crosses with him and introduces him to his mother. And then he hugs him and tells him to go after N.F. 

But this section is full of paradoxes. Myshkin assures Rogozhin that he has come to Petersburg after N. F. to convince her to get some psychiatric treatment abroad, but that if they're getting married now for sure, he won't even go to see her. And then of course he does! To top it all off, Rogozhin suspects just as much and so follows him and later tries to kill him! There must be something in their "friendly" conversations that I'm not picking up on, something between the lines. Or perhaps it's just an internal battle that causes both men to express only certain things to each other, perhaps many of the emotions that are later revealed were simply unconscious before. 

Also, a quick note on religion. I think it's very significant that Rogozhin has members of the eunuch sect (skoptsy) among his renters. The violence of their beliefs goes along quite well with his passionate nature and his desire to "cut up" N. F. What I'm not clear on is the significance of his father's old believer tendencies, which Myshkin says that Rogozhin has inherited. Is the connection just a general breaking away from the faith, which Rogozhin experiences in his own way, or is there something particular about old believers that characterizes Rogozhin? If anyone knows more about them, do share.

Lastly, Myshkin mentions in Chapter 3 that he loves N. F. with the love of pity. But, based on Rogozhin's description of the episode in which he knelt and fasted in her room for hours after beating her, perhaps she feels the same pity for Rogozhin. After disdaining this supposed show of humility and repentance, she says that he is not a lackey after all and that she will marry him and be faithful to him. The scene in which she greets his mother also suggests a certain sympathy. At the same time, she is scared of him and constantly runs away from him. But I think that she ultimately always returns because, as Rogozhin tries to make Myshkin see, she no longer values her own life and prefers to die at his hands rather than burdening Myshkin.

None of this behavior is very logical, but I think that's one of Dostoevsky's chief attributes: he shows the true idiosyncrasies of humanity.

Reading Schedule, Part II

Dear All,

I think most of us can benefit from a little time to catch up, so let's extend the end of Part I through next Monday. For Part II, here is the schedule:

Monday, November 7: Read through the end of Section V of Part II.
Monday, November 14: Read through the end of Section X of Part II.
Monday, November 21: Read through the end of Part II (this is just two shorter sections, so we will have a little break).

Cheers all!

Myshkin and Ganya. Ganya and Myshkin. I think I prefer Ganya.

I’m again behind schedule, but better late than never! :)

So many emotions regarding the last sections of Part I. I think I’ll just rant, if you don’t mind.

First of all, what is NF’s problem?! Why does she come to Ganya’s house and disrespect his mother and sister? I don’t care what she wants to do with her own life, how she wants to punish *herself*, but that kind of behavior toward these poor women is completely uncalled for. She may want to give Ganya a taste of what life with her will be like, she may want to push him to the limit and see how much he can take (or how low he can go), she may be curious to see if he will stand up for her in front of his relatives—whatever! Whatever he reasons, her behavior was still despicable. I feel like the tortured, beautiful, thoughtful, self-destructive and emotional woman Dostoyevsky is describing when talking ABOUT her is not who he is portraying when she actually gets to talk and act.

Ganya… is a confusing character too. Everyone is confusing, I guess, and that’s why I liked this book so much to begin with, and wanted to discuss it with you. When NF shows up at his house and starts her bitchiness, the author says that Ganya had: “поклявшийся всеми клятвами больно наверстать ей всё это впоследствии и в то же время ребячески мечтавший иногда про себя свести концы и примирить все противоположности” [he made every promise to painfully pay her back for this in the future, and at the same time he was boyishly hoping to himself to bring all ends together and to reconcile all the opposites]. This is what I would call being truly “childlike”—hoping beyond all hope to make things work out, even when the adult mind would give up the matter for a lost cause. I guess the adult viewpoint predominates in Ganya, but he still has a little of this childlike hope left, which makes him a more appealing person despite all those terrible descriptions of him. Later on, Myshkin also recognizes this childlike quality in him, but I will come back to that conversation in a little bit.

As Katia mentioned, there seems to be some kind familiarity between Rogozhin and Ganya. I don’t think there is any specific mention of them being friends outside of that time when they gambled together, but the way Rogozhin talks about Ganya and his money-grubbing ways, it is as if Rogozhin knows Ganya’s personality closely. Rogozhin immediately says that Ganya will crawl to Vasilievsky (bridge, I assume?) to get three rubles, and soon after confidently says that he can easily buy Ganya out, because Ganya has such a money-loving soul. Why, why does he feel like he can offend a person like that? I suppose Ganya deserved this kind of treatment because he agreed to marry a woman for a financial reward. And yet… in front of Ganya’s mother and sister? What kind of people are these? I’m not sure what the author meant to portray, but Ganya does not by far seem like the lowliest person in the room.

And now, one of the moments which were completely shocking to me—when Myshkin was the one who stopped Ganya from hitting his sister. Initially, it was so dramatic and impressive—the only MAN in the room who was MAN ENOUGH to realize what’s happening and to stop it, was this Myshkin—little mouse. For a second I thought—maybe this is the lion side of him coming out! But no, the author immediately brings him down, put him in the corner (practically crying, I bet), all pathetic after Ganya slaps him. Maybe this is supposed to be Christ-like, to offer the other cheek, to be meek? And why does he say that phrase “Oh, how you will be ashamed of your action!” So melodramatic. Doesn’t quite go together with the manly image projected a minute ago.

In any case, this is a surprising side of Myshkin coming out—he is decisive, not afraid, a protector. Who would have thought? Will it appear again?

Later, when Ganya comes to ask for an apology, Myshkin is once again surprising, but in a bad way this time. First of all, he says “I did not think at all that you are this kind of person!” Meaning that he *can make mistakes in judging people,* and we probably should not forget this. It is so tempting to think he is this incredibly perceptive person who is practically from a different world. I think what Ganya says in response to that phrase is very telling: “What, [you are surprised] that I can admit my guilt?.. And why did I think before that you are an idiot! You notice things that other people never would. One could talk to you… but, better not to!”

One little side note from their following conversation. At one point, Myshkin says “I think this happens all the time: a man marries for money, but all the money is in the wife’s hands.” When I read that, I thought: how the hell does he know? Didn’t he grow up an idiot, in some Swiss village? Isn’t he unaware of the ways of the world? Maybe it’s from books. But still, his insight is a little suspicious. Like maybe the author slipped up and made him *too* wise for his background.

Coming back to the heart-to-heart between Myshkin and Ganya. What did you think of the moment when he said “Теперь я вижу, что вас не только за злодея, но и за слишком испорченного человека считать нельзя. Вы, по-моему, просто самый обыкновенный человек, какой только может быть, разве только что слабый очень и нисколько не оригинальный.” [Now I see that you are not only not a villain, you cannot even be considered a particularly corrupt person. I think you are simply the most regular person that can be, except maybe very weak and completely unoriginal.”

If I may express my opinion about this frankly (and pardon my French):

WTF?!!???!!?!?!?!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Either Myshkin с луны свалился (is from a different planet), or he is stupid in human relations (which goes against prior evidence), or he is getting REVENGE on Ganya. What happened to his fine-tuned psychology? He must know that he is hitting Ganya where it really hurts. I mean, who would like to hear that about him/herself? If someone said that to me… I would not be cool about it. Anyway, my conclusion is that Myshkin is clever and getting his revenge on Ganya. He is not some little lamb, by far. Ganya may be right—even though Myshkin gives off an inviting aura for people to talk to him, it may be best not to.

Gosh. I could go on, but for the remaining section of Part I, maybe I will post a separate post. Also for laughter (but that will be short). And a new reading schedule.

My response to Part 1 (Katia)

Again, a few general thoughts.

• How do Rogozhin and Gania know each other? When Rogozhin storms into his house with his crew, he calls him Gan'ka and shows a great deal of familiarity towards him. In the beginning (chapter 10), Ganya pretends not to recognize him, but Rogozhin immediately makes fun of him for it and says that just a few months ago he lost to Ganya in a card game. Is Ganya the one who introduced Rogozhin to Nastasia Filipovna? I recall vaguely seeing evidence for that somewhere else. I get the feeling that their relationship may be important because when Kolya and Myshkin talk after the scene with Rogozhin and N.F., Kolya criticizes Rogozhin, saying "you can't behave like that in the house of your..."--and then he changes the subject. Was he just going to say "enemy" or a closer connection?
• Ganya's main motivation and flaw is his pride. When he describes to the prince how he would make N. F. behave (chapter 10), he says, "I don't want to be funny; above all else, I don't want to be funny." That is essentially why he doesn't rush into the flames to save the thousand rubles that N. F. grants him. His love of himself and his image is greater than his love for money. There's something about him that reminds me of the Underground Man and Raskolnik--poor, with family problems, they dream of being great men, but don't know the right way of going about it. They want it all now and want to "skip," as Ganya says, the process. Although, unlike the other two, Ganya doesn't seem to have a gnawing and contradictory self-criticism.
• Another connection with "Crime and Punishment" is the family of General Ivolgin's mistress Terentieva, which is remarkably similar to the Marmeladovs. There are two daughters and a son, as well as an older sibling, Ippolit (although in Marmeladov's family that sibling, Sonia, is one of the two daughters, I think); the mother is sick; the father is a stepfather, a penitent yet constant drunkard who spends all the family's small income on alcohol and never shows up at home unless he needs cash, although he used to have a good job. And like Raskolnikov, Myshkin is like a guide to him. I suppose that's why the general says so frequently, "General Ivolgin and Prince Myshkin!", as if it were the headline of a performance (and their behavior is often taken and described as a comedy).
• A general theme that I'd like to track in the second part is the role of money. We've heard it mentioned from the very beginning during the train ride, when Rogozhin told the prince about his inheritance. Then when Myshkin visits the Epanchins, everyone thinks that he wants money. Money is also the reason why Ganya is willing to marry N. F. and money is Afanasi Ivanovich's main method of controlling her--either forcing her into sex or getting her out of his life by paying Ganya to marry her. Men like Rogozhin and General Epanchin also try to impress N. F. with fancy gifts, but she learns to manipulate them through money as well--by making light of their gifts, by coming to Petersburg and threatening Afanasi Ivanovich to maintain her or she'll dishonor him, by refusing to be "traded" (a word that's often used in the book) as a commodity between him, Ganya, and Epanchin, and finally by throwing the 1,000 rubles into the fire, thus maddening everyone and shaming Ganya with her challenge. Money will also play a big role in the prince's life now that we know he too is set to receive a large inheritance. And money is very important to General Ivolgin as an alcoholic and provider to the Terentievs. I think the main conclusion we can draw from all of this is that money has no positive value in the book. It facilitates exploitation, addiction, impoverishment, arrogance, and insanity (although Myshkin, the one whom everyone considers insane, doesn't care about money). Even for N. F., it has no real significance. Perhaps it did when she was younger and had no choice but to accept A. I's advances, but that's not why she installs herself in Petersburg. That's not why she tells Rogozhin to bring her 1,000 rubles and then "chooses" him. For her, the ultimate goal seems to be revenge, both against A. I. and, strangely enough, against herself. 

By the way, what's the reading schedule for Part II? Is it as before, read through ch. V by next Monday?

Children, elaborated

I wanted to add a little to my previous entry.

The subject of being "childlike" comes up a fair amount in this work. I think what we should pay attention to is the difference between being “childlike” and “childish.” Google says:

Childlike:  (of an adult) Having good qualities associated with a child.

Childish: 1) Of, like, or appropriate to a child. 2) Silly and immature.

What are the good qualities associated with children in my mind? Being innocent (i.e. not knowing how to maliciously lie or deceive (because kids do lie, just not like adults), not putting up protective walls), having an open mind, a vivid imagination, a robust curiosity. Not having complexes. Thinking outside the box because you don’t know about the box yet.

What I personally do not associate with children is some kind of greater wisdom, or particular fairness. Maybe I haven’t spent enough time with children? I do admit to a certain lack of experience. But children are… children!

I have some trouble with Myshkin’s portrayal of the village children. Or rather, of the implications of who HE is because of those children. The kids themselves are fine—they got carried away by an idea of having Marie as a little pet to pity and take care of. What is Myshkin’s greater message in this story though? That Children spreading true Christian values (thanks to Myshkin’s guidance)? To me it looks more like the children are enamored by their grown-up “leader” and will do whatever he says.

Schneider calls Myshkin a child, but Myshkin objects. What does this mean? If he were just a child, he would have the qualities I described above, and I guess he doesn’t (or doesn’t think he does). I wonder what he was like as a child. He probably didn’t have a normal childhood because of his illness. If he merely likes children, but doesn’t feel like one… If as an adult he prefers the company of children, I suppose that means he is not fit for the adult world. Or is he saying that adults are just no good? Either he’s socially awkward and can get along only with children, who don’t ask much of him, or he’s saying grownups are not worth his time. Perhaps this shows a lack of faith in people. What happens when children grow up though? I feel like Dostoyevsky did a much better job of this theme with Alyosha and the boys in the Brothers Karamazov. At least there it's clear who is the adult, what it means to be an adult, and how an adult can relate to children, but yet still see them as future grown ups.

Moving on from Switzerland, Myshkin goes on to say that Lizaveta Prokof’evna is childlike. I don’t have the text in front of me right now (shame, shame), but I believe she says that she knows it, and that she is childlike both in her good qualities and bad ones. Again, this begs the questions—which qualities is she talking about? So far, she has not really exhibited all that much unrestrained imagination or carefree spirit. I guess that leaves innocence? I suppose we’ll see as the book goes on how that holds up. For bad qualities, we have capriciousness, impatience… oh, maybe being too trusting can go both under good and bad. Perhaps this is a quality she has—being too trusting. Which on the flip side is—not being a shrewd judge of people and situations. Maybe? It’s a good thing to trust people. What if the person suffers about being too trusting and gullible, is that still positive?

Lastly, I’ll just say that Aglaia strikes me as being childish more than childlike. She is, of course, the baby of the family, and we were told from the start that she has been babied, too, by her sisters, and her whole family thinks she is very special. Although her mother says that she and Aglaia are alike, I think the following quote is telling:

Не усмехайся, Аглая, я себе не противоречу: дура с сердцем и без ума такая же несчастная дура, как и дура с умом без сердца. Старая истина. Я вот дура с сердцем без ума, а ты дура с умом без сердца; обе мы и несчастны, обе и страдаем.

Don’t laugh, Aglaia, I am not contradicting myself: a foolish woman with a heart but without a brain is just as unhappy a foold as one with a brain but without a heart. It is an old truth. I, for example, am a fool with a heart but no brain, and you are a fool with no a brain but no heart. We are both unhappy, we both suffer.

 Her own mother says Aglaia has no heart! It just slips out… and it makes me cautious.

Children, credibility, and people besides Myshkin

Dear All,

I am finally back on track with my reading :) The entries have been great food for thought. Trying to figure out what Myshkin is all about is no easy feat, especially when we are presented with the idea (as Allie mentioned) that Dostoyevsky said he was trying to portray a “truly beautiful soul.” Did he mean it? Did somebody just quote a passing thought Dostoyevsky once had, or was this truly the goal of the work? And if it was, did he succeed?

I have to say, Myshkin still has not convinced me. So far, Yelena noticed that his actions make him seem like a manipulator, Oxana pointed out the contradiction of his name (and we discussed the connotations of mice and rodents), I think several people referenced the fact that Myshkin mentions that he thinks he may be smarter than other people (and definitely smarter than people believe him to be) and that he has a special purpose (although he does have one very clear purpose he tries to talk about with the General—his inheritance, but I think when he mentions a special “idea” during the conversation with the girls [“У него начинала мелькать одна странная идея, впрочем еще не совсем ясная” and others], he is talking about something different), and Katia did a great job considering the significance of Myshkin’s artistic abilities and how they reflect on his personality and how people (including us) perceive him. Overall, I would say I am still at a loss. What struck me unpleasantly in last week’s reading was how he “stood up for himself” to Ganya, when they were on their way to Ganya’s apartments. Myshkin’s defense of himself and statement that they should part ways seemed like a bluff. How quickly he accepted Ganya’s apology was… unsettling. On the other hand, I also realize that this may be a good gesture—he did not want to torture Ganya or embarrass him, he merely stood up for himself and quickly retreated to make things right again. Not a bad thing to do. Still…

Other impressions from the reading: we’ve met quite a few interesting characters by now. What do you guys think of Lizaveta Prokof’evna? What about her daughters? I wonder about the characteristics Myshkin gave them.

Oh! Before I forget. Did anybody find it interesting that almost nobody ever calls Myshkin by his name? It’s always Prince. Князь. Reminds me of that Наутилиус song, князь тишины...

Back to Lizaveta. What do you think about Myshkin calling her childlike? Children are quite prominent in these sections of Chapter I. Do you find them believable, in Myshkin’s telling? What impression did that whole story of Mary leave you with? Was it pleasant, sweet, honorable? Or was it… strained, idealistic in an unnatural sense?

I guess this is not a very literary question, but do you guys believe that the children would behave like that?

And what about when Schneider calls Myshkin a child, and Myshkin does not agree?

I can’t stop with my questions :) What do you guys think of the girls’ interaction among themselves regarding Myshkin? Are they sold on him, or do they still have doubts? It is pretty clear that their mother is enamored, but what about the rest of them?

And what about Aglaya? Does she get things more deeply (or intuitively) than the others, or is she just spoiled?

Looking over my underlinings… the narrator himself says (when Ganya is having an argument with Myshkin) “Но именно чрез это бешенство он и ослеп; иначе он давно бы обратил внимание на то, что этот "идиот", которого он так третирует, что-то уж слишком скоро и тонко умеет иногда всё понять и чрезвычайно удовлетворительно передать.” [But it was by his rage that he was blinded; otherwise he would have noticed long ago that this “idiot,” whom he treats as such, can altogether too quickly and subtly understand everything and can quite satisfactorily convey it.] So Myshkin is TOO keen, TOO perceptive… Granted, the narrator may be speaking from Ganya’s POV. Why would he do that?

And finally, about NF’s arrival. She immediately identifies him as the idiot :P