On Beauty-and The Idiot
“My intention is to portray a truly beautiful soul”-Dostoevsky
I love and hate Fyodor Dostoevsky’s The Idiot. There is no urbane feeling in me when I think of the novel and of its hero, Prince Myshkin. Even the title itself, and its ironic significance, strikes me again and again and sets off in my mind the contrast, and I should say, for Dostoevsky--the paradoxical relationship, between light and darkness, wisdom and foolishness, beauty and poverty. I say I love it, and I do, because of its emotional power, its unforgettable characters, and its message of unconditional love; I also say I hate it...well, I can’t tell you why because I don't want to give away the ending! (but therein lies the mystery and the reason for my animus)
“Happy? You know how to be happy?” cried Aglaia. Then how can you say you didn’t learn to see things? You might teach us even.”
“At such moments I was sometimes overcome with great restlessness; sometimes too at midday I wandered on the mountains, and stood alone halfway up a mountain surrounded by great ancient resinous pine trees; on the crest of the rock and old mediaeval castle in ruins; our little village far, far below, scarcely visible; bright sunshine, blue sky, and the terrible stillness. At such times I felt something was drawing me away, and I kept fancying that if I walked straight on, far, far away and reached that line where sky and earth meet, there I should find the key to the mystery, there I should see a new life a thousand times richer and more turbulent than ours.” (p. 55)
“There is not one person here who is worth such words,” Aglaia burst out. “There’s no one here, no one, who is worth your little finger, nor your mind, nor your heart! You are more honourable than any of them, nobler, better, kinder, cleverer than any of them! Some of them are not worthy to stoop to pick up the handkerchief you have just dropped...Why do you humble yourself and put yourself below them? Why do you distort everything in yourself? Why have you no pride?” (p. 332)
“You want to change crosses? Certainly, Parfyon, I am delighted. We will be brothers!” Myshkin took off his tin cross, Parfyon his gold one, and they changed. (p. 214)
“From time to time Rogozhin began suddenly and incoherently muttering in a loud harsh voice, he began shouting and laughing. Then Myshkin stretched out his trembling hand to him and softly touched his head, hair, stroking them and stroking his cheeks...he could do nothing else! He began trembling again, and again his legs seemed suddenly to fail him. Quite a new sensation gnawed at his heart with infinite anguish. Meanwhile it had become quite light; at last he lay down on the pillow as though utterly helpless and despairing and put his face close to the pale and motionless face of Rogozhin; tears flowed from his eyes on to Rogozhin’s cheeks, but perhaps he did not notice then his own tears and was quite unaware of them.” (p. 594)
Throughout his novel, Dostoevsky shows us an uncommon understanding of Beauty and artfully paints us an image that, though not always pleasing, is altogether captivating.
I love and hate Fyodor Dostoevsky’s The Idiot. There is no urbane feeling in me when I think of the novel and of its hero, Prince Myshkin. Even the title itself, and its ironic significance, strikes me again and again and sets off in my mind the contrast, and I should say, for Dostoevsky--the paradoxical relationship, between light and darkness, wisdom and foolishness, beauty and poverty. I say I love it, and I do, because of its emotional power, its unforgettable characters, and its message of unconditional love; I also say I hate it...well, I can’t tell you why because I don't want to give away the ending! (but therein lies the mystery and the reason for my animus)
“Happy? You know how to be happy?” cried Aglaia. Then how can you say you didn’t learn to see things? You might teach us even.”
“At such moments I was sometimes overcome with great restlessness; sometimes too at midday I wandered on the mountains, and stood alone halfway up a mountain surrounded by great ancient resinous pine trees; on the crest of the rock and old mediaeval castle in ruins; our little village far, far below, scarcely visible; bright sunshine, blue sky, and the terrible stillness. At such times I felt something was drawing me away, and I kept fancying that if I walked straight on, far, far away and reached that line where sky and earth meet, there I should find the key to the mystery, there I should see a new life a thousand times richer and more turbulent than ours.” (p. 55)
“There is not one person here who is worth such words,” Aglaia burst out. “There’s no one here, no one, who is worth your little finger, nor your mind, nor your heart! You are more honourable than any of them, nobler, better, kinder, cleverer than any of them! Some of them are not worthy to stoop to pick up the handkerchief you have just dropped...Why do you humble yourself and put yourself below them? Why do you distort everything in yourself? Why have you no pride?” (p. 332)
“You want to change crosses? Certainly, Parfyon, I am delighted. We will be brothers!” Myshkin took off his tin cross, Parfyon his gold one, and they changed. (p. 214)
“From time to time Rogozhin began suddenly and incoherently muttering in a loud harsh voice, he began shouting and laughing. Then Myshkin stretched out his trembling hand to him and softly touched his head, hair, stroking them and stroking his cheeks...he could do nothing else! He began trembling again, and again his legs seemed suddenly to fail him. Quite a new sensation gnawed at his heart with infinite anguish. Meanwhile it had become quite light; at last he lay down on the pillow as though utterly helpless and despairing and put his face close to the pale and motionless face of Rogozhin; tears flowed from his eyes on to Rogozhin’s cheeks, but perhaps he did not notice then his own tears and was quite unaware of them.” (p. 594)
Throughout his novel, Dostoevsky shows us an uncommon understanding of Beauty and artfully paints us an image that, though not always pleasing, is altogether captivating.
posted by Prague at 10:57 AM
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