Book #167: The Dharma Bums

Book #167: The Dharma Bums by Jack Kerouac

February 28, 2015

This book is similar to On the Road in that it is a fictionalization of Kerouac's own experiences and some of the people that he met. This book seems more mature in some ways than the former, and it does cover a later period in Kerouac's life. He's still hitch hiking and living an "unconventional" life, but this time, there seems to be more spirituality, and less "looking for kicks."

Ray Smith, the narrator, is Kerouac himself. He is again influenced by a friend: Japhy Ryder (Gary Snyder IRL), a "Zen poet" who is fascinated by eastern religions and cultures, particularly Buddhism. Smith himself practices his own form of Buddhism, though he doesn't necessarily agree with even the basic principles of the religion. Ryder, Smith, and their California-based crew were hippies before it was cool to be a hippie. Some might say that their flimsy devotion to some aspects of Buddhism is shallow, but I disagree. Real spirituality has nothing to do with religious doctrine, and these people seemed to get that. They were looking for a deeper meaning to life in an America that was becoming more and more soulless and materialistic.

I have almost no patience for Christian hypocrites. Smith reflects at one point on his love for Jesus, though he never attends church and definitely identifies as a Buddhist. How many Christians out there blindly follow church doctrine (like, say, not ending meat on Fridays during Lent) without knowing the meaning behind it? How many of them are blind to the fact that most churches have moved away from the teachings of Jesus? I may have put it on this blog before, but I'll say it again: some of the most evil, despicable people on earth are the leaders of "mega-churches," and any religious leader who spews hate from the pulpit.

Anyway, Smith and Ryder and their friends are religious in their own ways. They live simple lives and abhor decadence, materialism, and the middle class lifestyle. I totally get what they're saying. Kerouac's works give me a certain longing, because I'm aware all the time of how chained down I am by my responsibilities. These days my only debt is of the student loan variety, but it's substantial to say the least. The part of me that buys into the teachings of my middle class upbringing wants to grow my savings to put into a down payment for a house, while the Kerouac-esque part of me (that's been there for a very long time) wants me to pay off those loans as quickly as possible so I can run off to live a simple solitary life. Or better yet, let the loans go into default and run off anyway. Ha! Yeah, right.

The life that Kerouac describes is harder and harder to picture in today's world. East has met West, but Western culture is winning out. At the end of the book, Smith stands on a mountain with a breathtaking view, having spent the summer there watching for wildfires for the department of forestry (or something like that), and he exults at his freedom. Is such freedom possible today? It makes my heart ache to think that it may not be.

Book #166: 1Q84

Book #166: 1Q84 by Haruki Murakami (translated by Jay Rubin and Philip Gabriel)

February 25, 2015

I had previously mentioned wanting to read a contemporary work by an Asian author. I saw a poll about Murakami's works on Buzzfeed; this hefty novel was the top ranked. Intrigued, I decided to give this internationally renowned Japanese author a try. 

1Q84 is quite a polarizing text. People seem to love it or hate it. Even fans of Murakami's other works weren't necessarily taken with this one. I found this book fascinating, and definitely unlike anything I've read before. At its core, it is a love story. Does it really matter what the Little People or the air chrysalises represented? I personally don't think they represent anything, they're just factors in this bizarro dimension that Aomame and Tengo find themselves in.

I feel like it would take way too long to summarize this book, so I'll keep it brief. The two main characters, Aomame and Tengo, grew up feeling alienated from other people. As young children they'd formed a bond with each other that neither of them ever forgot, even when their lives went in opposite directions. But as adults, they were both lonely in their lives, solitary creatures. I connected with both of them for that reason, that they don't really feel connected to anyone, even though they both live in the biggest city in the world.

Both of them end up passing into a new dimension. Aomame crosses over after climbing down an emergency stairwell from an expressway during a traffic jam. She begins to notice subtle changes in the world around her, then bigger ones, like the fact that there are two moons. This world, which she calls 1Q84 (as opposed to 1984, the actual year in the "real" world), is kinda run by these Little People, who can shape people's realities. Anyway, Tengo separately gets involved with the Little People through Fuka-Eri, a young author (I think she's a dohta, which I'm not even going to explain here) who writes of her experiences with the Little People. 

There's a cult involved in the situation, and Aomame and Tengo separately piece together the facts about this strange dimension. They eventually find each other, and climb out of 1Q84, to find themselves in what is probably yet another dimension. But they feel hopeful, because they are finally together.

It's frustrating to try to succinctly sum up this book. It's just so out of the ordinary, but in a good way I think. Some readers expressed frustration at Murakami's overly detailed descriptions. I personally don't like a ton of physical description about characters because it actually makes it harder for me to imagine them, but I do appreciate background information, especially since it was ultimately important to the plot. I did roll my eyes when Aomame was described as having no excess fat on her body, but when I got to know more about her, I figured out why that would be the case. Some readers were turned off by the repetition of some ideas, but it's important to keep in mind that 1Q84 was published in three separate parts. It does seem repetitive in one go, but his Japanese audience, reading it in separate installments, might have appreciated that. 

Aomame and Tengo were not the only interesting characters. Some chapters follow Ushikawa, a grotesquely ugly man who is sort of a PI for the cult called Sakigake. Poor Ushikawa is kind of like the other two in that he wasn't really loved by his family, and that he's lonely as an adult. The difference here though is that he made some bad decisions that decided his fate, like getting disbarred for illegal practices and losing his wife and children. Still, he's a pitiable character, and his death at the hands of Tamaru is kind of tragic.

Tamaru is a character that I'd love to read more about. He's a badass bodyguard, but also an intellectual and very literate. His being gay is really neither here nor there, as it should be. I'd totally read a book revolving around him; I thought at first that he'd turn on Aomame at some point, but he was a good friend to her straight through.

I'd recommend this book cautiously. Readers with more conventional tastes, with the need to have everything tied up neatly with a bow, would hate this book. But readers looking for something different, something surreal, would have some appreciation for what Murakami has crafted here.

Book #165: The Vile Village

Book #165: The Vile Village by Lemony Snicket

February 20, 2015

Book the Seventh of A Series of Unfortunate Events, and one of the better ones in the series thus far, in my opinion. In this book, Mr. Poe enrolls the Baudelaires in a program called "It Takes a Village," in which an entire community takes on the care of orphans. The kids choose one called...V.F.D.

However, the Village of Fowl Devotees is not the V.F.D. that the Baudelaires are looking for. This kooky village, in the middle of a desert, revolves around the migration of thousands of crows. They roost uptown and downtown at various parts of the day, finally settling for the night in Nevermore Tree (I see what you did there, Handler!). The huge tree is in Hector's yard. He's the local handyman, and while the entire village (run by a counsel of bossy elders) is technically in charge of the Baudelaires, he's the one really caring for them. He's a nice guy, but a huge wimp.

Now, I've been suspicious of Mr. Poe for some time now, but this book made me believe more than ever that he's the one tipping off Olaf to the kids' whereabouts. He shows up in V.F.D. before they do, having enough time to construct the ugly crow fountain and hide the Quagmires inside before the Baudelaires even arrive. I'm glad that at the end of the book, the kids have cut ties with Poe and have realized that they must stand alone and take care of themselves. 

What I liked about this book, first off, was the development of the Baudelaire children. Over the last couple of books, Sunny's dialogue has made more and more sense, and she's even speaking in coherent two-word sentences now...and she begins walking at the end of the book. Klaus turns 13 in this story, and of course it's a pitiful birthday, as they've been framed for murder and are waiting to be burned to death!

The mystery deepens in this story as well. A man named Jacques Snicket is falsely accused of being Olaf, due to his unibrow and his tattoo of an eye on his ankle. Lemony's brother seems to know the Baudelaires, but they don't know him...they do, however, seem to know who Lemony is, but the story doesn't really get into that. Jacques claimed to have the tattoo for his job, at the volunteer...we don't hear the rest, as Esmé, disguised as a cop, stops him from saying more. 

Having not looked up anything on V.F.D., here's my tentative theory: it stands for volunteer fire department. It would make sense for Olaf to be part of this group, as a front for his arson plot. Here's the problem, though: why the eye tattoo? Why the eyes all over Olaf's home? Is there still a connection to the optometry office in Paltryville? I'll keep these ideas in mind as I read on. 

The Quagmires at least are out of Olaf's clutches and in Hector's care. The Baudelaires end the book completely on their own, as Esmé and Olaf (who are totally doing it now...gross) escape together again. Now that Poe is (maybe) out of the picture, will Olaf have as easy a time finding the Baudelaires in their next hiding place? We shall see...

Book #164: The Accursed

Book #164: The Accursed by Joyce Carol Oates

February 14, 2015

Oates is definitely one of the most important authors of our time. Over the last few decades, she's put out countless written works. I've read only a handful, but all of these were so different from the others...she is versatile, writing in many different genres.

This lengthy novel is one of her more recent releases. I read that it's the fifth gothic novel she's published. The Accursed has been critically acclaimed, but I could see why some readers might be turned off. For the most part, I found it well-constructed, and the unanswered questions are the most fascinating part. 

Real-life historical figures, like Upton Sinclair and Woodrow Wilson, are characters of this story, set in 1905-1906 in Princeton, New Jersey. Wilson is the insecure, though ultimately morally strong, president of the university. Sinclair, living in very modest circumstances with his put-upon wife and infant son, is becoming famous beyond his Socialist circles for The Jungle. I think that most of the other characters (besides Wilson's family, Jack London, and my old pal Mr. Clemens) are fictional. 

A curse, revolving around the family of the respected Winslow Slade but effecting many other people in Princeton, brings the well-to-do of this tidy community to its knees. Slade later claims all responsibility for it, as he'd killed a black teenage girl years earlier after fucking her. He believes that God is punishing him. But he's missing the point. It's not really God coming after him alone for that crime, but rather the devil preying on this hypocritical community. Wilson, for example, dismisses a young relative as a student and TA at the university after learning that he is mixed race. The people of Princeton are indifferent to the lynchings of black citizens in other parts of Jersey. And those wealthy families made their fortunes on slave labor in the South generations ago, yet are all so high and mighty and pious. It's for racism and hypocracy that they are all punished.

Oh, and can we not ignore the possibility that the narrator, M.W. Van Dyck, could be the son of the devil? This is implied but never stated outright. His mother mysteriously became pregnant in her forties, though his maybe-father claims that they hadn't slept together in years (lots of sexless marriages in this book!). Pearce Van Dyck was shown to have brain damage after his death, so who knows if he's remembering accurately? It's a bit mind-blowing to consider that this might be the case, though.

I don't really get why the Slade grandchildren got to come back to life when the curse was broken. Why not Cobblestone Slade, Adelaide Burr, or Edgarstoune FitzRandolf? Were they so much more "innocent," being young? I guess it's nice that Wilhelmina got to reunite with Annabel and marry her long-time crush Josiah, and that Todd and Oriana got their childhoods back, but why? I guess that's my one beef with the story. The devil's other victims stayed dead or gone; what happened to Amanda FitzRandolf after Todd destroyed the Bog Kingdom?

Oh, and there were a couple of historically inaccurate comments made about Mr. Clemens. For one thing, he didn't smoke Havanas...he much preferred cheap cigars, which he would buy by the crateful, practically. Also, he didn't fancy himself as being able to resist womanly charms. He loved women; he loved being petted and adored by college girls when he gave speeches at places like Barnard. I guess Oates should have made his autobiography part of her research! Mr. Clemens was a rather minor character, but these clearly incorrect assertions really stood out to me. 

Other than that, this book was interesting. It makes me want to know more about Woodrow Wilson. Was he really such a whiny little pussy? Yet he at least resisted temptation from a demon in the form of a lovely woman with whom he'd become smitten; I think this had a small part in ending the curse. I always felt bad for Wilson, as he was widowed and remarried while in the White House. Anyway, whether the historical figures are accurately depicted (personality wise or not), I think this is a book that would require multiple readings in order to pick up missed details. Maybe I will reread it sometime, though not before I read more by Oates.

Book #163: The Ersatz Elevator

Book #163: The Ersatz Elevator by Lemony Snicket

February 11, 2015

Book the Sixth of A Series of Unfortunate Events. In this book, the Baudelaires are put with guardians who actually kind of make sense. Jerome Squalor was a friend of their mother's (I bet he was in love with her...she must have been something else!), and had wanted to take the children in right from the start, but his shallow, greedy, evil wife Esmé wouldn't allow it...until orphans conveniently became "in" (fashion, that is). Wealthy Esmé is obsessed with keeping up with trends, even and especially when they are ridiculous. As it turns out, she's also in cahoots with Olaf, her former acting teacher.

Olaf's impersonation of an ambiguously European man named Gunther reminded me of Butters and Cartman and their racist Chinese impersonations in "The China Problem." Too bad Butters couldn't show up and shoot Olaf in the dick, because he took despicable to a new level in this book. He's kept the Quagmires in a cage at the bottom of an unused elevator in the Squalors' apartment building, letting them starve and sit in their own filth as he threatened to take their fortune and kill them. And the Quagmires are taken away again, by Olaf and Esmé and the doorman (really Olaf's hook-handed crony). The Baudelaires, after a physically and emotionally exhausting ordeal, are devastated.

Jerome is a decent man, but has no backbone. The kids tried to get him to see that Gunther, the fashionable auctioneer hired by Esmé, was really Olaf, but he stubbornly refused to see to reason. After Esmé leaves him to join Olaf's gang, Jerome offers to take the children away and protect them. But when they say that they want to help their friends, he refuses to help them. What a pussy!

I want to see more of Esmé, as she seems important to the whole V.F.D. mystery. She expresses that the Baudelaires' mother had stolen something from her...but what? Was Esmé trying to gold-dig on their father, but he ends up marrying a kinder woman? Violet starts to question this, but the children, in a trap at that moment, have no time to reflect on it.

The one annoying thing about this book was the continuous use of the title word "ersatz." I must admit that I didn't know it prior to this book, but the repetition of it was obnoxious to me. Otherwise, I enjoyed the tension of this book, and the added complexity of the Esmé character. The mystery now is only further tangled. We will see what comes next, and what becomes of the wretched Quagmires.

Book #162: The Dinner

Book #162: The Dinner by Herman Koch (translated by Sam Garret)

February 7, 2015

This Dutch novel is a few years old (some references to technology and President Bush show this), but was translated into English in the last couple of years. It's currently being hyped as Holland's Gone Girl, and while I wouldn't agree, I could see a couple of reasons for this. Mostly, nothing is as it seems at the beginning, and the twisted truth about the characters is revealed as the story progresses.

There was not one character that I sympathized with in this book, except maybe the mortified young waitress. Paul, the narrator, is certifiable. Hell, that's how he lost his teaching job. I don't think his wife works, either, so how are they middle class? Since Paul is "nonactive" and can't get another job without the consent of a psychologist, are they receiving Holland's version of Social Security? And if so, how can these sponges go around feeling so high and mighty?

At first I sympathized with Paul, before I even really knew anything about him. He and his wife were to have dinner with his brother Serge, a candidate for prime minister. My opinion about Serge never changed throughout the book. He comes off as smug and arrogant, and even though he's the only one of the group that wanted to do the right thing, it was for the wrong reasons. But at first, I imagined Paul suffering through yet another dinner with his pompous brother. Yet they must be close. Their respective sons hang out together, and together committed at least three separate unspeakable acts of violence.

Michel, Paul and Claire's boy, inherited his father's unnamed mental illness...maybe. Paul is a violent man, and has thoughts that are grotesque and beliefs about the value of human life that are questionable at best. How did he not go to jail for beating up Michel's principal? Why didn't Serge press charges against Paul for bashing his face with a skillet? I don't know much about the laws on assault in Holland, but that doesn't seem right to me somehow.

This book had some intriguing ideas, but I don't think Koch should have revolved it around a dinner in one evening. There was a lot of reflection on Paul's part. I think the tension would have worked better if it'd started the night that Paul and Claire each separately recognized their son on the news, on a fuzzy surveillance video showing Michel and his cousin Rick assaulting a homeless woman in an ATM vestibule before setting her on fire. The story could still be told the same way, but with less of these flashbacks needed. As is, that all important tension barely had time to build. The reader finds out what Claire really knew almost at the same time as you learn all that Paul knew. It's too rushed. 

So again, this was a book that, while interesting and perhaps worth reading, wasn't as good as it could have been. Otherwise, I was intrigued by Claire and Paul's blind protectiveness of their son. Never mind that he's a remorseless killer. Never mind that he should face justice for what he's done. They not only plan an assault on Serge to keep the truth from being revealed, but also enable Michel to kill Rick's adopted brother Beau to keep him from revealing the truth. What the fuck?

I did find myself wondering what I'd do if I were in Claire or Babette's situation. I don't have kids and don't really want them, so I guess to some extent I can't really "get" these characters. At the same time, I'm a human being, and even though Michel and Rick are only teenagers, they still did monstrous things, then allowed their mamas to help them cover it up. Babette wasn't in on the "disappearance" of her son Beau, of course, but she did take Paul and Claire's side when Serge proposed turning them in. After his assault, Serge backed off on that, though he never did get elected Prime Minister.

See, the dinner itself, though it was meant to serve as the structure of the story, wasn't the point at all. I'm still glad I read this book, though, which won awards in its native country. I've already read books this year from Sweden, Russia, and now Holland. I should seek out a contemporary novel translated from an Asian country and really go around the world (with my reading) this year!

Book #161: South Park and Philosophy

Book #161: South Park and Philosophy: You Know, I Learned Something Today (edited by Robert Arp)

February 4, 2015

This was a book that I purchased on Amazon with the gift card that my sister gave me for Christmas. There are apparently a number of these pop culture/philosophy type books, but this one appealed to me for obvious reasons: I'm a big South Park fan. Have been for years. 

Now, the book isn't really about the show, but rather cites examples from it to help illustrate philosophical concepts. The chapters are written by various philosophy professors and experts. Some topics were more interesting and well-written than others. I liked the chapters on blasphemy, logic, existentialism, authority and legal philosophy, political philosophy, the ethics of vegetarianism, gender, evil, and personal identity. Phew! This book covers a lot of ground, but that only makes sense because the show does, too.

Since the book was published after only about half the series (the most recent episodes cited were from season 9, while the 19th season will premiere this year), I found myself thinking of more recent episodes that could be used in the arguments. I was surprised that season 9's "Marjorine" wasn't at least touched on in the gender/feminism chapter; "The Hobbit" would have fit in there very well. Funnybot would have been a topic for the chapter on artificial intelligence. The Mysterion-centered episodes would have perhaps negated the points made about Kenny's frequent deaths, as they established the reason for his immortality. I think updates to the book have been published, so these certainly would draw examples from more recent episodes. Anyway...

Philosophy in principle should appeal to me, and many of the ideas in this book did. I took Philosophy 101 as a freshman in college with a lot of expectations, and I ultimately hated it. I think one beef that I have is the tendency of some philosophers to explain what I think is obvious. I've always appreciated succinct arguments, and I felt that much of what I was assigned to read over explained many points. I guess the point of philosophy is to unpack ideas and really examine them, and maybe I just don't have time for that.

I did, however, appreciate the wide variety of philosophical ideas touched on in this book. The chapter on gay marriage seemed a bit out of place, as it didn't really cite any philosophical ideas in it, but rather made a logical argument for gay marriage by following philosophical principles. The last chapter on Satan was kind of sloppily written. Otherwise, this book got me interested in exploring more philosophical ideas, as many famous works and philosophers in history were mentioned throughout. 

I don't think this book gave me more appreciation for the show. Anybody who appreciates South Park knows that it's about so much more than crude humor. I do, however, have a better understanding of Parker and Stone's worldview. I tend to find myself agreeing with the points that they make on various issues on the show. The world is often ridiculous, but rather than despair, Parker and Stone choose to laugh at it. We could all learn something today from South Park.

Book #160: The Austere Academy

Book #160: The Austere Academy by Lemony Snicket

February 3, 2015

Book the Fifth of A Series of Unfortunate Events. I'm still on board here, and it was good that Handler went a bit away from the established pattern this time. Not much, but enough to add more suspense to the series.

So this is the one that has the Baudelaires at a boarding school. It's a strange school that has classes every day, teachers who are qualified on paper but less so in practice (in a case like this, I'd argue for the importance of standards), and a vice principal, Nero, who is, to quote Office Space, a "no talent ass clown." Since these poor orphans don't have parental permission to live in the nice dorms, they have to stay in the crappy Orphan Shack.

But there's a silver lining! The Baudelaires meet the Quagmire triplets (giggity!). There's only two of them because the third died in a fire that killed their parents. Also similar to the Baudelaires, the Quagmires are to inherit a fortune (sapphires) when they are legally adults. Isadora and Duncan are the first true friends that the Baudelaires make in a long time, and they seem to be the only decent kids at this shitty school.

Okay, I know that Carmelita Spatts is a brat, but she's so funny! She reminds me of that big-mouthed girl from the "Cartman's Silly Hate Crime 2000" episode of South Park (though Liz is much more profane than Carmelita), so loud and insulting. I loved that Duncan gave it right back to her. Sometimes the Baudelaires are a bit too passive.

So the Baudelaires are treated unfairly at this school, even before Olaf arrives as Coach Genghis (undoubtedly, he or his female cronies threw the other PE coach out of a window). His plan is to force the Baudelaires to run and run and run, all night long, so that they flunk out of school. Nero agrees to allow "Genghis" to homeschool the Baudelaires if they are expelled, and this jackass seems very eager to be rid of them.

The Quagmires are the ones who take the series to a whole new level. For one thing, they're kidnapped by Olaf and the powder-faced women (when their metal cafeteria worker masks were described, I imagined Bane for some reason) at the end of the book. It sounds like Poe will be in charge of trying to rescue them in the next book...urg. Call the fucking FBI, dude. Also, as they're being taken away, they tell the Baudelaires something about V.F.D. This surely has something to do with Olaf, and the fact that he burned down the Baudelaires' house and killed their parents. It may explain the connection between Dr. Orwell and Olaf as well. Ooh! Now I'm intrigued.

Snicket mentions his dead beloved Beatrice a lot more in this book. Confession: I cheated and found out who she really was. I'll just say that it explains Snicket's interest in the Baudelaire orphans's plight. 

I've barely started Book the Sixth. I really wanna know what happened to those nice Quagmire kids, and also about this whole V.F.D. thing. I mean, maybe Olaf's wickedness is for more than the fortune? I think I'm ready to see the series through to the (hopefully not too) bitter end.

Book #159: The Brothers Karamazov

Book #159: The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoyevsky (translated by Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky)

February 1, 2015

What big game? It's "Super Bowl Sunday," and I couldn't care less. There's also been a huge snowstorm that's still going, so what else would I do today besides finish this book, which I've been reading off and on for the last few weeks?

Of course, if I'm going to read Dostoyevsky, I have to go with a Pevear-Volokhonsky translation. This particular one is award-winning. I read some reviews of this work on Goodreads, and I found some comments very interesting. A couple of reviewers, who rated it higher than I intend to, both said that this book must be worth reading because...well, a lot of people say so. I wasn't so impressed with this Russian classic. I'd say honestly that this book was kind of a mess.

The characters themselves were very interesting. Alexei, the youngest Karamazov, is cited as a great literary character, and is certainly Dostoyevsky's intended hero. But I personally thought Fyodor Pavlovich, the family patriarch, was funny. A jerk, of course, and the only crappy thing about his death is that the book got kind of boring after this (or rather, around the time of Dmitri's interrogation). He was so glib and over-the-top. A few people said that Ivan was the most like him, but I didn't see it...in fact, I would have wanted to see more of him in the first part of the book, and less in the second. I think Ivan maybe wanted to be like his father, to live for pleasure and to the devil with the rest, but he was too much of a thinker.

Dmitri was straight up crazy, and I totally would have believed that he killed his father, except that Dostoyevsky made it really really obvious that this wasn't the case, long before Smerdyakov confessed to the crime. See, there are technically four Karamazov brothers, as Fyodor Pavlovich had raped a crazy homeless woman years before. She died after birthing the child in the outhouse in his garden, and the household servants raised him themselves. He probably knew his father better than the "legitimate" sons did, as they were all sent off to be raised by other people after the deaths of their respective mothers. Apparently, Smerdyakov didn't kill his father for money or vengeance, but rather because he thought Ivan wanted him to...at least that's what he claims.

The first half of the book, for the most part, was very exciting. I didn't really care about the chapters taken up by the elder monk Zosima's life story. This book definitely has a religious message...maybe about how, at a time of change in Russia, many people were renouncing religion and this was a bad thing. Alexei, who almost becomes a monk but is advised by his dying mentor Zosima to be a righteous layman, is the only religious one in the family. He is respected by pretty much everybody (except Rakitin, a hypocritical douche anyway), and he's the only one of his brothers at the end with a decent future ahead of him. So yeah, Dostoyevsky definitely felt like mother Russia needed "our father in heaven." 

Anyway, the first half of the book, with the explanations of the feud between Dmitri and his father, kept my interest. But things started to go downhill around the time that Dmitri was falsely arrested for his father's murder. It was just too obvious that it was Smerdyakov, so there was no tension or suspense here. The trial was the worst part. Dostoyevsky narrates like it's a local person, unnamed but acquainted with the Karamazovs, telling the story. He "forgets" certain details of the trial, yet can recall word by painful word the closing arguments made by the prosecution and the defense...each of which took me over an hour to read. The defense attorney made some interesting points, but it just so long. It got very boring, to the point where I was frustrated.

There's a side story about a young boy named Kolya, who is hilariously precocious. If I met him, he would have made me laugh...but he respects Alexei for taking him seriously, though he's not quite 14. Kolya had once been a friend, then an enemy, of a poor kid named Ilyusha. Ilyusha had been humiliated when his father had been dragged around town by the beard by a drunk and hostile Dmitri, and the other boys ganged up on him. Alexei takes an interest in the boy's family, and when Ilyusha becomes deathly ill, he helps all of the boys to make amends, and they offer support to the dying boy and his unfortunate family. Ilyusha dies, but the boys all respect Alexei for helping them to do the right thing. Alexei ought to be a teacher, I think.

I haven't said much about the principle female characters, Grushenka the whorish and Katya the bitter, but I don't have much to say about them. Dostoyevsky, like Tolstoy, doesn't seem to like women much. There are no redeemable female characters in this book. Then again, most of the male characters are fucked up, too. 

As I've said, I'd never read an abridged text or translation. However, I can't help but wonder if an abridged translation of this book wouldn't be more enjoyable. I'll end with this: it'll take me a long while to work myself up to reading Crime and Punishment. I think I've fulfilled my Russian quota for awhile...