living in exile through russian literature
Dostoyevsky's take on the Christian life.
I began reading The Brothers Karamazov1 by Fyodor Dostoyevsky in 2023. After about 120 pages, I DNFd it. This big tome was almost 1,000 pages, and I did not have it in me to wade through a Russian novel of that length. I didn’t remember being over fond of Anna Karenina when I read it right after high school (though I expect my opinion would be changed now), and I wasn’t about to delve into another one of those monsters. However, this year, I persuaded myself to finish it, no matter what. I was going to slog through it, word by word—ten words a day if I had to.
Boy.
I had no idea what I had awakened in me. I listened to two pods about it, and a fire was lit under me like never before. To be honest, I’ve been a reader all of my life. Growing up looked like my dad reading tales of dragons and gold, hobbits and elves. There was The Wingfeather Saga, Watership Down, The Chronicles of Narnia. I met Gandalf, Frodo Baggins, The Pevensies—the greats of children’s literature.
But I had never dug into a book before to a hyper extensive level, annotating, tabbing, researching and researching some more. The Brothers Karamazov was the first book that made me feel like a wretched sinner and a glorious new creation. After all the article-reading, podcast-listening, tabbing, philosophizing, rereading, re-re-rereading, etc., etc., that is the conclusion that I had come to: humanity was never so disgusting as what I—or rather, Dostoyevsky—uncovered. It was worth the months of hard work, late nights, painful painful moments of discovering just how low the human heart sinks. I can’t really say what drove me…. well no, I can: it was the need. The need to know what came at the end. Which every reader can empathize with. But it wasn’t the suspense, for me. It was the desperate desire for the book to show me something about my own soul. I raced through it.
In the end, there were probably one hundred themes I could elaborate on, twenty different highlights that made my eyes red with weeping and my heart ache with longing and the opposite emotion: revulsion. However, as I started to feel a yearning to process what I had learned through writing about it, I came up with how to structure my thoughts and takeaways concerning TBK. Although Dostoyevsky himself does not mention it, and I wouldn’t dare assume this was his explicit direction, I want to take the lives of these characters and spin it in this way: living in Exile2 as a cursed and rebellious creature having given in to the Serpent or, the way of the pilgrim saint journeying home, touching earth with heaven as he goes.
Alyosha + Zosima (alternatively prefaced with ‘Father’ or ‘Elder’) = the pilgrim saint
Ivan, Dmitry, and Fyodor Pavlovich (as well as others) = the rebellious exile
Here’s an extremely brief summary of this 1,000 page book.
We follow three brothers, and their father for part of the book. Alyosha, who we see most of the book’s POV from, is the protagonist or hero of this work; he is the youngest brother. Then there is Ivan, the middle child, and finally Dmitry the eldest of the three. There is also Smerdyakov, the illegitimate and fourth son, who we may unpack later. These three brothers are the children of the one and only (thank God) Fyodor Pavlovich Karamazov. The aforementioned is a drunkard, creator of orgies, and gifted with infamous miserly tendencies… at least toward his children, although as you will see if you read it, not toward his mistresses. At some point Fyodor is murdered and Dmitry is to blame, yet the reader is left to doubt whether or not he is really the murderer until near the end. There are several chapters to do with the legal system and scenes of the trial nearer the end, as well as conversations between characters, and then the book closes with Alyosha at the head of several Russian youths.
The first half of the novel (so 500 pages) is the unwrapping of the minds of the three brothers, how they think about God, suffering, organized religion, and individual souls. The last half records the consequences and/or blessings of these philosophies and faiths. Themes such as suffering of innocent children and animals, theodicy, fatherlessness, broken families, weak women (does Dostoyevsky have beef with women?), generational family problems, parricide, the Devil, the ethics of monastic life, etc. etc. can be found within its pages.
For this article however, I wanted to focus on the idea of how one ought to live in Exile. Sans the ‘exile’ part, Dostoyevsky hints many times at how Christians ought to conduct themselves in the world. And I think, in a lesser way, when Alyosha is asked by Zosima to leave the monastery, there an exile of a sort takes place. “How should I live?” is a question that trillions of people have asked since the dawn of time. I like to think that the Bible and Dostoyevsky have great answers to big questions like the one above. Let’s take a journey together alongside Alyosha and his brothers and discover how we can live like pilgrim saints in this great Wilderness Wandering.
“Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone: but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit.
He that loveth his life shall lose it; and he that hateth his life in this world shall keep it unto life eternal.
If any man serve me, let him follow me; and where I am, there shall also my servant be: if any man serve me, him will my Father honour.” - John 12:24-26
Before the beginning chapter, verse twenty-four of the above chapter in Scripture creates the atmosphere for TBK. It is a tidbit of a masterpiece of another story introducing another masterpiece. I would surmise from this, after much much study, that Dostoyevsky desires his readers to take the path of death unto paradise (John 5:24). The life of the pilgrim in Exile is based on humility of heart and love for the individual people who cross their pathes. Lady Wisdom quotes here, “By humility and the fear of the LORD are riches and honor and life” (Proverbs 22:4). So great must our humble nature become that we see not only our sins worthy of being repented of, but also of those of our neighbor. We repent for the original sin that took place in the Garden, way back at the beginning of our world, for scarcely would we have done better in Adam and Eve’s place. We repent, weep on our knees, for the devastation that all sin has caused on suffering innocents and the planet that would seek no harm of its own will. We repent for future sins that we know will impact those around us without us ever knowing how or when. We repent for the silent suffering that our friends and family endure for our transgressions and intentionally evil or careless words.
There is no condemnation for those who are Christ’s, certainly, yet sin is an offense to the Cross of Christ and His Divine love for us.
More can be done as humble suffering saints than proud religious fools. Recall the sinner made righteous as opposed to the arrogant religious Jewish leader. He that exalts himself shall be humbled and the one who humbles himself shall be exalted.
Alyosha portrays a model of humility, patience, and virtue. Certainly he has flaws—does not every faithful Christian?—but he is altogether an example of piety, even selfless angst for those surrounding him. The other characters send him about to do their ‘dirty’ work, although I wouldn’t say he does it unwillingly. He is the catalyst for potential and overwhelming hope throughout this journey we are on together. We follow him as he is introduced as ‘an early lover of mankind’ all the way to the final page, where he becomes what he had striven toward: a young Father Zosima 2.0. Father Zosima bears mentioning as he plays the part of the virtuous Master Oogway in this tale. This elderly wrinkly, not quite beautiful man lived at the local monastery in the Karamazov’s hometown. He was the mentor to Alyosha, his guiding light and the fount for Alyosha’s wisdom—he was practically worshipped by many of the townsfolk and poor women, as well as the monks in the monastery itself.
Although many quips of his I took to heart, there was one in particular that follows my Exile train of thought:
“Loving humility is a terrible force, the most powerful of all, the like of which there is none. Each day and hour, each minute walk close to yourself and take care that your inward form is well-apportioned. Perhaps you have walked past a little child, walked past him angry, with a foul remark, with a wrathful soul; it may be that you did not notice him, the child, but he saw your and your inward form, unattractive and impious, may have remained within his unprotected little heart. You were not even aware of this, but by that very fact may be that you have sown a bad seed in him, and it may grow, and all because you did not guard yourself in the presence of a young child, because you had not tutored yourself a love circumspect and active. O brothers, love is an instructress, but one must know how to acquire her, for she is acquired with effort, purchased dearly, by long labour and over a long season, for it is not simply for a casual moment that one must love, but for the whole of the appointed season.” - pg. 413
Those last few lines dazzled me, and struck me to the core. To love is to love long or not at all. Love that is short-lived, easy to obtain, I could argue is not love at all. Love addressed to another human, God, or His creation, must be accompanied with great personal sacrifice and a willingness to be humbled. Is not this what Exile pertains to, if only a facet of it? So much of this work centers around loving neighbor, whether that means family or friend (or even foe). We cannot serve without love. We cannot be humble without love. We cannot defeat darkness without intentional, sacrificial, long-suffering love. Father Zosima’s teachings entranced me—still do, in fact.
Inverted, we watch Ivan, the skeptic that sees religion as a way to control the masses—sounds just a bit like Karl Marx—, his attempt at defeating the goodness of God through destroying theodicy. He brings up these horrific examples of tortured children, innocent suffering, and abuse of power, but when Alyosha chastises him about Ivan’s poor influence over a teen girl (pg. 767), he lashes out in exactly the way Cain did to God in Genesis. Ivan had no real love for the individual. Certainly, he saw potential in a utopian religious-like world, but he could not see suffering as an opportunity to love, as Alyosha and Zosima did.
Tied up in this humility and individual love is Alyosha’s compassion toward Russia’s youth. In book five of TBK, there are multiple chapters that follow a group of Russian boys, specifically two by the names of Ilyusha and Kolya. Dostoyevsky enjoys comparing and contrasting, and here he does it again with Alyosha being the wise and caring father-figure for Kolya who is naturally fatherless. Kolya, although rude to Alyosha, arrogant, and altogether uneducated in the correct ways of life, is granted grace and understanding by this ex-novice. He is shown empathy and most importantly respect as an equal of intelligence—all things Alyosha was never given as a child. Throughout human history, blood relations, the tradition of the family acting as one unit, has been what upholds society, on a small and large scale. The Karamazov family was a wreck from the very first page of the novel. By the end though, there is found family amongst the Russian boys that became a sort of novice group following ‘Father’ Alyosha.
Connecting the above into Wilderness Wandering: we are meant for knowledge, applying that knowledge (wisdom), and then teaching that wisdom to the next generation. That is how humanity has survived and thrived. There is no question about history repeating itself in the event of it being forgotten. The Bible is clear that we are to teach the things of God to our children and their children. Grandparents, parents, and elder siblings are to teach the ones younger then they what the meaning of life is, and how to live in a world fraught with sin but also live in the joy of the certain coming of Eden. Alyosha was humble enough, willing enough, and so in love with the individual person first and foremost, that he forgave Kolya his arrogance in order to establish a long-lasting relationship of mutual respect. Kolya learns from Alyosha what the Good Life is in its essentials, all the while being cared for and truly seen by an adult man.
Love. Humility. Seeing a human being as an image, reflection of God’s own face.
Constantly, these components play, over and over again.
Alyosha repairs the broken relationships between Ilyusha and Kolya, two of the young Russian boys in the troop that follows him. Not only does he stick around the illness, the suffering, of Ilyusha and the stink of death upon his whole household, but he covertly brings together two friends with a rift between them. He goes about, touching whatever or whoever he meets with healing, life, and new beginnings. Sounds a lot like drops of Eden in the Desert Wilderness. Alyosha is on a pilgrimage, back to the true monastery. Zosima ‘exiles’ him from the monastery in order for him to do what must be done with his messy family and be a catalyst for change in the secular world where Alyosha resides.
Free will. What is it, do we have it, and would a good God offer us such a gift (or curse)? TBK delves into these questions, although some may differ on whether or not they are answered. Dostoyevsky did a wonderful job of answering all three, if I may be bold in saying so. But there was a particular quote that made me stop walking alongside Alyosha and pause to consider.
On pg. 406-407, we get glimpses of a monologue that Alyosha recorded of Father Zosima at the end of his life. It touches on his view of freedom, specifically in regard to taking on the mantle of a monk. However, I think that what he says is applicable to every person claiming the Christian mantle. He talks about two different views of freedom that I believe are widely spoken of throughout the entire work. One appears to be freedom of choice. Any choice and every choice is available to each person, in this view. There is no divine oversight. Essentially a subjective and secularist worldview. There is not really morality to be considered in this decision making process, there is no consideration of a higher good to be thought of when the choices lay before us. The other view is what Zosima upholds. And I quote him here, “Obedience, fasting, and prayer are even the objects of laughter, and yet it is in them that the path to true and genuine freedom is contained; I cut off from myself my superfluous and unnecessary needs, humble and scourge my vain and proud will with obedience and thereby attain, with God’s help, freedom of spirit, and together with it spiritual gaiety!”
Below this passage, I have written: “True freedom is not doing what we want but what is just.” This is a summarized version of a quote from Anselm.
You know what Ivan unfortunately missed in his arguments he made to convince himself that atheism at worst and deism at best was true? He left out that if there really were no God, then truly the suffering and evil done to innocents would be meaningless, and there would be judgment to come of the perpetrators. He did not see that evil pointed to God rather than away. He separated suffering and God’s love, saw them as unable to coexist in our paradigm of reality. And he didn’t account for God as judge at all. This is why his view on freedom and his raillery against it so absorbed him and eventually drove him mad (spoilers, sorry). He did not see any means to a suffering end for human beings. He saw only the suffering.
But Alyosha? He saw suffering and he had great compassion on humanity and for the earth itself. He saw suffering and strove to pour healing ointment on deep festering wounds.
One of the my favorite things about TBK is getting to journey alongside Alyosha and other characters as well. I know I’ve mentioned this before, but really so much enjoyment in the story comes from peeking over the characters’ shoulders, so to speak, and almost watching things play out before my eyes. It’s wonderful to go on this adventure and yet terrifying to see things play out in my mind that I am thankful to God He spared me from seeing in reality. Having the utmost privilege of observing this young man slowly reach a place of great holiness and self-relinquishment…. that is something I could never deserve. I feel as if Alyosha were more real than most people I have encountered, indeed all of TBK cast follows that same thought. In some sense, perhaps they are more real. Zosima symbolizes for me what human beings in their realest Real would be.
I’d like to end with this quote from the author himself which was in the preface of the novel—
Fyodor Dostoyevsky talks about how he feels great admiration and love for Alyosha Karamzov. Rightly so, as the youngest Karamazov is based on how Dostoyevsky believed his young son would be if he had not died at such a premature age. He mentions that he believes many people may think Alyosha an ‘oddity’. And he says this,
For not only is an oddity ‘not always’ a detail and an isolated instance—on the contrary, it may occasionally transpire that he it is who bears within him, perhaps, the very heartwood of the whole, while, for some reason, the other men of his epoch have all of them been wrenched loose from it for a time as by some tidal gale.
I have ended this article many many days since I began it, with large breaks in between. At the time of me concluding this project that truly made me sweat blood and tears, I will be pulling my publication in a new direction with a new name (stay tuned!!). But this quote followed me throughout this whole process, and I daresay I think I have found a quote that will issue in a new era for my writing.
My friends—I speak especially to my own generation, Generation Z—we are at war with modernity and inclusion. The world desires the silence of Truth (capital T) claims. The modern West does not hold to the Good, the True, and the Beautiful any longer. We are living in a post-Christian world, and if my generation does not stand for what we believe—that there is good to be found in who we once were, there will no longer be a world worth caring for. Even now, I see an evil disease of desire for being likable, hip, included, loved, and adored. My dear friends, there is no room for egos in the Kingdom of Jesus Christ. There is no room for self in the transformation process, from sinner to saint. We cannot afford to lose precious time or attention on trifles such as our own worldly desires and pride. Christ Himself will provide our joy, our eternal provision. Need we strive for more than what He offers freely? Certainly not. In that way that St. Paul encourages the early church,
“For the one who sows to his own flesh will from the flesh reap corruption, but the one who sows to the Spirit will from the Spirit reap eternal life. And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up. So then, as we have opportunity, let us do good to everyone, and especially to those who are of the household of faith.” - Galatians 6:8-10
we must not weary in being an ‘oddity’. Because we will be. And as modernity, utilitarianism, and the doing away of beauty and truth continue, as our culture grows more hasty, as Treebeard so knowingly calls the hobbits in Lord of the Rings, being an oddity will be the nicest term people use for those of us who choose the Ancient Way. For those of us who hold the ‘heartwood’ of what it truly means to be Human, let us not weary in showing the Way, by being the way, as strange and out of place as we may seem.
And with this solemn note, I leave you. I pray God may be glorified by what I have written, and that you have the grace to stick around and read some more of my eclectic musings.
I will be referring to the Penguin Classics ed. translated by David McDuff for this discussion.
I have discussed the theme of Exile in my own publication which was directly inspired by God’s Word. I first discovered this theme through The Bible Project, and learned about this idea traced through Biblical narrative through their podcast series and ‘exile’ video, which can be found on their website or app. If you want to check out my articles where I touch on exile, see here and here. I would also suggest researching the Desert Fathers, often mentioned in Orthodox teachings and their way of life.