"I have been so accustomed to thinking and imagining everything according to books, and picturing everything in the world as I had previously made it up in fantasy, that at the moment I didn't even grasp the meaning of this strange circumstance."
To be stuck in this world that is dependent on books is such a new idea that has not been emphasized by any of the classic authors that I have currently read.
"They were so lacking in understanding of the most essential thing, so devoid of interest in the most important, most remarkable matters, that I involuntarily began to look upon them as my inferiors."
And it is this involuntary "reflex" that plunges one deeper into this thought of being better. And although it flatters the vanity, it eats at one, and it is a torment. For these little nuisances do not go away!
But here he is separating himself from society and forever giving himself up to his imagination. Once the break with reality is gone, nothing can stop one from living in the imagination.
"Yet how much love, Lord, how much love I experienced in those dreams of mine, in those 'escapes into everything lofty and beautiful.' This love might have existed only in fantasy, it might never have been applied to any human situation in reality, but it was so abundant, so overflowing, that afterwards there wasn't even any need to apply it in practice; that would have been too much of a luxury. Everything, however, always ended most satisfactorily- in a lazy and estatic transition to the realm of art; that is, to beautiful modes of existence, entirely ready-made, largely stolen from poets and novelists and adapted to serve every need and demand."
While I read this, I was struck by how easy it is to live in one's imagination. There are no obstacles and challenges, everything serves "every need and demand". Here the anti-hero is choosing the unreal instead of the real. He'd rather have his own fantasies than actually live them in real life, because there are no risks to be taken, it is within the secure limits of his world. He is completely in control. Which is also extremely cowardly, but what is one to do when one is forced to pick the imagination over the reality? These creatures belong there.
"Love is God's mystery and should be hidden from outsiders' eyes, whatever happens. That makes it holier, better."
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"Leave us on our own, without a book, and we shall instantly become confused and lost- we shall not know what to join, what to believe in, what to love and what to hate, what to respect and what to despise. We even feel it's too much of a burden to be men- men with real bodies, real blood of our own. We are ashamed of this, we deem it a disgrace, and try to be some impossible 'general humans.' We are stubborn, for a long time we haven't even begotten of living fathers, and we like this more and more. We have developed a real taste for it. We'll soon invent a way of getting born from an idea.
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If one quote could sum up my love for Russian Literature and how it is distinguished from the rest of the world, the above would be it. To be born of an idea!!!!!! The concept of it is so tremendous because it shows such devotion to the "Good and the Beautiful". These are the creatures that are better off left in the spiritual- as if the physical was a complete torture to them. For they are restrained and imprisoned, the physical is an obstacle to the spiritual for them. It shows such confusion and displacement, as if they are ghosts that cannot wait to be called back to their real worlds.
To be dependent on the ideal is a marvelous concept, and yet it brings so much suffering. Just because of the physical, just because they are commanded to mingle with society and try to function as a "general human", and at the same time knowing they will never be one. Their complete EXISTENCE is a PARADOX. To BE a paradox is sheer torture, and no wonder they mostly all go mad. The anti-hero's sacrifice the physical for the spiritual. They would rather live in their own world's and be insane instead of being cold blooded in this crude reality.
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This is my favorite book by Dostoevsky, and the most influencial on my love for Russian literature. He addresses the real anti-hero's so marvelously- the way he brings us "sane" readers to this madman's rants and flitting thoughts. It is not even that he is extremely confident in himself, because he constantly contradicts himself, even in the last sentence of the book! Nothing, nothing is even close to this topic: to prefer to live in one's own imagination. That is why I love Dostoevsky, and that is why this book symbolizes all the Russian authors: Despair and Confusion.
My favorite scene was how he was talking to the prostitute- how she even told him that he sounded like he was speaking out of a book. This man's whole essence was a book.
Loved it!
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