The Brothers Karamazov

Continuing the novel’s thematic philosophical examination of love, Dmitri’s musical and verse references when he drunkenly sings are references to some of Dostoevsky’s favorite writers and musicians. These references portray Dmitri as a romantic at heart; however, he also uses insect metaphors several times to describe his desire, stating that when Katerina accepted his sexual bargain, he could feel “the spider bite” in his heart (113). This is among the first hints that Dmitri is not actually describing love. Indeed, while Dmitri says that he is (or was) in love with Katerina, he still makes the vital distinction that to fall in love is not the same thing as to truly love someone. His feelings for Katerina, therefore, are not love—and he admits as much himself.

Nevertheless, Dmitri’s emotions are complex and involve a genuine passion—they also led, on the night of Katerina’s visit, to the possibility for his redemption. As Dmitri remembers his meeting with Katerina, he describes the sense of power he had over this “noble” woman, but also the strange hatred he felt toward her that was but a “hair’s breadth” from love (114); he hated her not because she was loathsome but because she was admirable, and he was appalled at himself and his petty manipulation. His encounter with Katerina was ultimately an encounter with his own repugnant self, and his shame was an artifact of his reckoning with the truth. The exchange was therefore a moment of redemption and, in Dostoevsky’s cosmos, divine grace. The women in Dostoevsky’s work are often vessels of such disruptive power; Katerina unwittingly held up a mirror for Dmitri to show him a dreadful reality, and his newfound, painful self-awareness offered a degree of salvation. Though Dmitri still lacks prudence, he is not the same person he was before locking eyes with Katerina that night.

The novel’s themes are inseparable from its characters, who dramatize and give incarnate form to the work’s inner spirit. Book 3 is therefore as much character study as it is plot action, and even minor characters are points of departure for explorations of human nature. For example, Grigory the servant is a foil to his master, Fyodor: Grigory is devoted, dutiful, and very religious. The narrator pokes slight fun at Grigory’s “pomposity” (96) but ultimately favors him. Grigory’s nurturing qualities, superstitious nature, and grief over the loss of his child explain why he and Marfa raise Lizaveta’s orphaned child, Smerdyakov. His status as an “illegitimate” child puts him in a unique, outcast position among the Karamazovs—a position that soon emerges with crucial symbolic importance.

The dynamic between Smerdyakov and Grigory deepens the world outside of the immediate Karamazov family. These “auxiliary” characters provide another perspective on contemporary Russian life and how the lower classes dealt with their stations. Grigory is highly religious, obedient, and serious, while Smerdyakov is his opposite: He is supercilious, picky, and appears to rebel against religion. It is unclear to what extent his disposition is innate and how much results from a life of classist alienation, but these traits also reflect how Smerdyakov is something of an anomaly among the Karamazov brothers. Each of the first three brothers represents a way of life: Dmitri the immediate and sensory, Ivan the intellectual, and Alyosha the spiritual. Smerdyakov, too, represents a mode of humanity, but—just like his ambiguous, outsider lineage—he does not fit squarely within the others’ triad. He resembles both Dmitri and Ivan because he is both sensory and intellectual, but these traits converge uniquely to become something new: a hyper-rational empiricism and pragmatism. His disposition, which Dostoevsky gradually paints as a hardhearted skepticism, ultimately disdains the spirituality that Alyosha embodies. Smerdyakov shows contempt for ideas not exhaustively grounded in observable logic or usefulness.

While the author intends Smerdyakov’s disposition to symbolize a spiritually degenerate secularism, Dostoevsky nevertheless renders the character with humanity: Smerdyakov’s intelligence, however ill-tempered, is capable of deep insight. His wit is real and, at least to other characters, disarming. The anecdote from Smerdyakov’s childhood captures his nature well. When Grigory read the Bible to him, Smerdyakov asked him, “[If God] created light on the first day, and the sun, moon, and stars on the fourth day […] Where did the light shine from on the first day?” (124). This witty remark incensed Grigory, who stopped teaching him about the Bible.

Fyodor also trusts Smerdyakov because the latter has returned lost money to him. Smerdyakov, with a calculating astuteness not seen in other characters, has cleverly found a way to be a part of the family while still maintaining some freedom. This astuteness also turns up in the scene in which Smerdyakov “shows off” his intellect in front of Fyodor and Ivan (and is rewarded with a bit of money from Fyodor). The narration describes Smerdyakov’s inner world, showing that he is “greedily storing up […] almost without knowing why himself” (127). Though he is arguing with his father, he is careful to word his responses as if he is only arguing with Grigory, which maintains the hierarchy of master-servant in the family. Smerdyakov knows that Fyodor is his father, but he cannot treat him as such because he is a nonmarital son (what his contemporary society sees as an “illegitimate” son).

The problem of human suffering is thematic in the novel, and Smerdyakov has his own commentary. He succinctly demonstrates his atheistic outlook and leeriness of religious authority when he states that so few—at most “two desert dwellers” (130-31)—have a faith that can move mountains, so surely God will not curse the entire remainder of humanity for its weakness.

Alyosha senses Ivan’s true nature. Ivan states, “[V]iper will eat viper” (141) in reference to his father and Dmitri’s fighting over Grushenka, and Alyosha asks Ivan how any man can decide “who is worthy to live, and who is more unworthy?” (143). Alyosha fears that Ivan is considering killing their father and using his lack of faith to justify this choice; if Fyodor were dead, Dmitri could marry Grushenka and Ivan could marry Katerina, whom he loves.

Grushenka’s refusal to kiss Katerina’s hand reveals Grushenka’s unpredictable nature and refusal to submit herself to anyone else. To add salt to Katerina’s wounds, she brings up Katerina’s painful secret about Dmitri’s sexual bargain, humiliating Katerina. However, when Alyosha sees Dmitri after he has left Katerina’s home and confronts him about how he could have told Grushenka about this secret, Dmitri tells Alyosha that Grushenka was weeping when he told her and that she felt deep empathy for Katerina. This adds additional complexity to Grushenka’s nature, showing that she is not as cruel-hearted as she appears to be. This foreshadows a later encounter between Grushenka and Alyosha at her home, which also illustrates that Grushenka is not as wicked as she has been described by other characters.