Netochka Nezvanova by Dostoevsky

"My soul failed to recognize yours although it found a new light beside its beautiful sister soul."

"My whole soul is full of you."

"Teach me how to wrench my life in two, how to tear my heart out of my breast, how to live without it."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I cannot believe this was Dostoevsky's first attempt at writing a novel. Such complexity! My goodness, and how many topics it covers! This concept, how the little girl idolized her father- even began believing his ridiculous dreams- living in a fantasy. This touches the importance of the relationship between a father and daughter- and what a tremendous effect it can have on a young girl's thought process.

And again,as in the future novels as well, Dostoevsky's "specialty", in my opinion, is seen in this novel; the delusion of man. How Netochka's (the little girl) father disillusioned himself so efficiently, that at one point in the story, he actually made himself believe that when the mother died, he would have the chance to success. And he made the little girl believe it also. This sort of fantasy is beautifully described by this Genius, who sympathizes with the insanity in man and even tries to justify them through their own justification...it's incredible. And one of the main points of this story, is that this sort of fantasy can easily affect the innocent in heart, for in reality, they were both very naive and innocent in essence, to push out reality and create their own chaste world...

And also, how interestingly he added another problem- Alexandra, such a great example of a lot of women of that time, and throughout history in general, who forsake their own happiness that bloomed out of love,to duty. It is as if their soul is ripped away with them, for it is an unjust and almost inhuman expectation. And yet, it was very much expected. Of course, the level of love we are talking about here is very dependent on pleasure- in most cases. Sometimes, it can be the mere friendship that brings much happiness to the young maiden who is condemned to a despicable marriage.

First Love by Turgenev

"...my blood was in a ferment and my heart ached- so sweetly and absurdly; I as all hope and anticipation, was alike frightened of something, and full of wonder at everything, and was on tiptoe of expectation; my imagination played continually, fluttering rapidly about the same fancies, like martins about a bell-tower at dawn; I dreamed, was sad, even wept; but through the tears and through the sadness, inspired by a musical verse, or the beauty of evening, shot up like grass in spring the delicious sense of youth and effervescent life."

Love brings youth and life! It resurrects all of its surroundings...

"...the vision of love, scarcely ever arose in definite shape in my brain, but in all thought, in all i felt, lay hidden a half-conscious shamefaced presentiment of something new, unutterably sweet, feminine.."

As if it left a trail...

"Various emotions, delicate and quick-changing as the shadows of clouds on a sunny day of wind, chased one another continually over her lips and eyes."

Marvelous, marvelous example of personification. This is one of the examples of the skill and genius of the Russians. The way nature is clearly depicted in humanity, as if we all have traces of it in our beings... this is the unification of the universe with humanity...

"...no one knows him, but he awaits me, and is certain I shall come- and I shall come- and there is no power that could stop me when I want to go out to him, and to stay with him, and to be lost with him out there in the darkness of the garden, under the whispering of the trees, and the splash of the fountain..."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Beautiful story of a first love, and it is so naively and chastely described... Only a genius could put himself fully into such innocent emotions as of a young boy falling in love. Turgenev handled these concepts so delicately, as if they would break at any moment... so fragile are they. Just the fact that he compared love with nature shows how purely the boy thought of this experience, for, what is purer than nature, it being perfect?

Chekhov Stories-

The Kiss

"He looked down at the river which sped swiftly, murmuring almost inaudibly against the bathing-box piles. Near the left bank glowed the moon's ruddy reflection, overrun by ripples which stretched it, tore it in tow, and, it seemed, would sweep it away as things and shavings are swept."

Beautiful imagery-- who would think to write such an idea about the moon reflecting on the water? Marvelous.

La Gigale

"Ryabovsky, who stood beside her, was telling her that the black shadow on the water were not shadows, but a dream, and when gazing at those bewitching waters, with their fantastic glitter, when looking at that fathomless sky and those gloomy pensive banks, which spoke to them of the troubles of life and of the existence of something higher, something eternal and glorious, it would be well to forget oneself- to die- to become a memory. The past was mean and uninteresting, the future was insignificant, but this beautiful night, unique in a lifetime, would soon be over, it would be blended with eternity- why live at all?"

And the moments will float away, no matter how close they are to the "beautiful and eternal", as Dostoevsky put it. The concept of forgetting oneself is really marvelous, to blend into the beautiful, the "eternal and glorious", and to become part of the past... And so the question Chekhov puts, "why live at all?" If everything fades into the past that is "mean and uninteresting", and nothing last, why bother to live if nothing stays alive with you? The optimistic would say that the moment itself is something to live for, for moments will always come, fresher than the ones before. The pessimistic would fade along with the memories... I think the fading, the deadening of the past memories helps bring contrast to the fresh, green memories that are blooming in the Field of the Future. Yes, a little optimistic. But thinking pessimistically in this case, only asks us to die in the end, for really, there would be nothing to live for, if one is completely dependent on the here and now.

Verotchka

"Day-dreaming girls who spend whole days lying down or in desultory reading, who suffer from tedium and melancholy, usually dress without care. But if Nature has given them taste and the instinct of beauty, this negligence in dress has often a charm of its own."

I do like that there is a sort of peculiar nature when it comes to these "day-dreaming girls". They do prefer to be melancholy and lazy, and yet, that is how they thrive- how their imaginations take wind and fly beyond the horizon, the stars. These creatures are created to ponder the novels and concepts, while life is being lived without them. And yet, they live beyond this reality, in a world all of their own.

The Duel

"It seemed to her that all her bad memories had left her head and were walking in the darkness beside her and breathing heavily, while she herself, like a fly that had fallen into ink, forced herself to crawl down the sidewalk, staining Laevsky's side and arm with black."

Beautifully said; how her idea, even her "bad memories" became alive and "left her head". What will come out of ours, if this would be possible? Would our entire earth be roamed by the ghosts that haunt us in our minds?

"He dislodged his own dim star from the sky, it fell, and its traces mingled with the night's darkness; it would never return to the sky, because life is given only once and is not repeated."

The traces mingled with the night's darkness, as if it has never been... never existed. Change, continuation, can be a cruel thing.

At the Manor

"But gradually, and unnoticed by himself, he passed on to abuse and calumny, and, what is more surprising, delivered himself to severe criticisms of science, art, and morals, although it was twenty years since he had read a book, been farther than the government town, or had any channel for learning what was going on in the world around him. Even when he sat down to write a congratulatory letter he invariably ended by abusing something or somebody. And as he reflected upon this, it seemed all the more strange, since he knew himself in reality to be a sensitive, lachrymose old man. It seemed almost as if he were possessed by an unclean spirit which filled him against his will with hatred and grumbling."

It is extremely strange, that something takes possession of us, and makes us do things that we would never do in "reality". As if someone else is living our lives...getting angry, having dramatic reaction towards trifles. It is as if we consciously do the things that we would never do... And for whose purpose does this "unclean spirit" fill us with "hatred and grumbling"? Who benefits from this all?

The story of an unknown man

"I believe that for the coming generations, it will be easier and clearer; they will have our experience at their service. But one wants to live independently of the future generations and not merely for them. Life is given only once, and one would like to live it cheerfully, meaningfully, beautifully. One would like to play a prominent, independent, noble role; one would like to make history, so that those same generations would have no right to say of each of us; "He was a nonentity," or even worse than that...I do not believe in the purposefulness and necessity of what happens around us, but what does that necessity have to do with me? Why should my 'I' perish?"

Every single life that has passed mattered, no matter how insignificant...it was needed to make up generations, history, humanity.

The Village of Stepanchikovo by Dostoevsky

"The fewer of life's blessings that were left to her, the more she entertained and comforted herself in her fanciful imagination. The more irrevocably her last hopes waned and finally perished altogether, the more her extravagant and insubstantial dreams took hold of her. Unimaginable wealth, unfading beauty, elegant suitors, rich, renowned, of pricely and distinguished stock, chaste and spotless at heart, expiring at her feet with infinite love, and, finally, the one- The one, the paragon of beauty, the seat of all the virtues, passionate and loving; an artist, a poet, a general's son in turn or all at once- all this made up not only the substance of her dreams, but even her of her waking hours. Her mind was already beginning to exhibit symptoms of deterioration as a result of indulging in this uninterrupted succession of opiate fantasies..."

"The novels inflamed her imagination even more, and she usually abandoned them on the second page. She could not sustain the strain of reading further- the first few lines would be enough to carry her into dreams, the merest suggestion of love, sometimes simply the description of a place or of a room or somebody's dress."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The character is completely inside her own world, and is even taking wisps from reality to feed to her imagination. Imagine to live a life like that! It must be some sort of happiness... a sort of delusion. The imagination is even better than a drug, for it never dies, it always finds a way to wriggle itself out of reality and fly back to its own world. I really sympathize with this character, for so many try to block themselves out of this reality, and she's actually to be admired, since she succeeded completely.

In this entire book, I was so mad at Foma... I kept asking why no one threw him out! They kept submitting to his preposterous demands, as if they weren't ridiculous at all. I would have smacked him a couple of times throughout the story, and yet, everyone kept apologizing for their supposed "temper". Especially the father of the house, who was such a kind soul! Goodness, such men are so rare, and yet, very easily manipulated. Which is what Foma took full control of. One just needs to find such a kind fool in order to take advantage of him.

And so, when all was said and done, after life got back to normal, and Foma died. Who won in the end? Did Foma, with all his scheming, his arrogance and merciless testing, did he win in the end? He died knowing that he did rule those unfortunate people, he died like a king. Or did kindness and patience win? Did the people of the house, their apologies, their attempts to silence their tempers, did they win?

And if they had thrown him out from the beginning, would they have had the same satisfaction in the end? Because for it to have been a happy ending, either Foma had been thrown out and peace would have been restored sooner, or (as in this case) through pleasing Foma, peace was also achieved. Wouldn't their pride (if Foma would have been thrown out) have achieved a different happy ending? Their satisfaction at the end of the story, would not have appeared to intense, for they would have had no obstacles to their happiness. This obstacle, Foma, gave them the contrast in life, which showed them what to be thankful for.

Of course, these people who bring "contrast" can be tolerated easier in theory. :)