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A review by hadeanstars
Notes from Underground by Fyodor Dostoevsky
5.0
Ugh. Revolting.
That's right, Dostoyevsky writes revolting characters alright. You cannot help but loathe them, at just the same time as you are fascinated by them. It's a train wreck of psychology. You are given a glimpse into the mind of a complete failure of a human being. It is impossible to even make sense of it and yet it feels completely authentic.
For the first time reading this, I feel as though I finally 'got' Dostoyevsky. His dissection of the worst excesses of human self-absorption is a true gift of genius. Who could conceive of it, let alone write it! It's horrifying to imagine that any writer could identify with such appalling processes. And for that reason it really makes you wonder. Was Dostoyevsky such a great observer of the human condition that he could deduce such fevered narcissism from his acquaintances? Or was this a part of his own mind? The former possibility strikes awe, the latter, horror.
But now, Raskolnikov makes sense. He's a facet of the Underground Man, albeit a more fleshed out one. The mania and vileness of old father Karamazov and his manic, crazed son Mitya now fit comfortably into the canon of Dostoyevsky's characters. I'm awed and disgusted all at once. Brilliantly awful.
That's right, Dostoyevsky writes revolting characters alright. You cannot help but loathe them, at just the same time as you are fascinated by them. It's a train wreck of psychology. You are given a glimpse into the mind of a complete failure of a human being. It is impossible to even make sense of it and yet it feels completely authentic.
For the first time reading this, I feel as though I finally 'got' Dostoyevsky. His dissection of the worst excesses of human self-absorption is a true gift of genius. Who could conceive of it, let alone write it! It's horrifying to imagine that any writer could identify with such appalling processes. And for that reason it really makes you wonder. Was Dostoyevsky such a great observer of the human condition that he could deduce such fevered narcissism from his acquaintances? Or was this a part of his own mind? The former possibility strikes awe, the latter, horror.
But now, Raskolnikov makes sense. He's a facet of the Underground Man, albeit a more fleshed out one. The mania and vileness of old father Karamazov and his manic, crazed son Mitya now fit comfortably into the canon of Dostoyevsky's characters. I'm awed and disgusted all at once. Brilliantly awful.