I told Andrew that I didn’t like The Idiot (by Fyodor Dostoevsky), which I believe is one of his favorite books (or so I understood), and he asked me to explain. So here it is.

The reason I didn’t like The Idiot is this: it paints a hopeless picture of the world. After finishing the book, I was left with a sense almost of despair. It left me not wishing that the story hadn’t ended, but with a feeling of relief that is was done, although it was a bittersweet relief, because the ending is so depressing that it doesn’t even feel right to end it there. I understand the Dostoevsky was an existentialist, and so this is what I should expect, but even in the extremely dark book Brothers Karamazov, there was at least hope in the end. Things started toward a path of redemption: Characters grew better, not worse; their struggles and conflicts and mistakes ended up being redeemed, not culminated in destruction; the moral of the book seemed to be one of faith and perseverance, rather than emptiness and perversion.

(At this point, if you haven’t read The Idiot, you can probably skip this paragraph and not really miss anything.)
Maybe I’ve misunderstood what Dostoevsky was saying in The Idiot, I don’t know. I’m not very experienced in interpreting fiction or picking up on what the author was really trying to convey–I’m very willing to admit that–but the primary feeling I got from reading the book was simply depression. I mean, everything just seems to go horribly wrong. The main character goes from healthy to sick again, form totally innocent to morally confused, from simply naïve to socially embarrassing, from in love with a either a madwoman or a whore (it’s hard to really say which–even the characters are quite undecided on this one) to in love with a spoiled brat, and in my opinion from mostly likeable to completely incomprehensible. And you know, I never really understood how Mishkyn (the main character) is any sort of Christ figure at all. I just don’t see it. Oh, and another thing: I feel like Dostoevsky’s portrayal of humanity is even worse than we actually are. I mean, everyone (with the exception of Ganya’s family) is totally absurd. I know (God is great, beer is good, and) people are crazy, but I feel like he’s pushing it a little too far. Some of the things his characters do and say are so off the wall it’s hard for me to relate.
(End rant about everything I didn’t like about the book. I’ve already covered way too much for Andrew to respond to at once.)

I guess this is what it boils down to: when I picked up the book, I expected, as I do with all (fiction) books, to be caught up in the beautiful language, captured by the depths of the characters, engaged by the twists and turns of the plot, and overall–this is the main one–encouraged by the essence of the story. When I read a book, I want to be transported to another place, which perhaps is not always easier or more pleasant or nicer or “better” than the real world, but at least is a place where things go right. If I want to see things go wrong, I don’t have to look very far: the news, the world and our country and our city and the Church and my own heart are full enough of prime examples of things going wrong. When I read a story I want to be reminded that things won’t always be this way. That one day, when the King returns, all things will be made right, and the ground will yield fruit and crops instead of thorns and thistles, and the lion will lie down beside the lamb instead of eating it, and the son will love his brother instead of killing him. That one day, there will be no more tears caused by suffering and grief, that there will be no more scars left from hurt and pain, no more destruction caused by wicked people (us) doing wicked things. That one day, things won’t be broken anymore.

I know I’ve probably said before (and I probably said it in a really snobby, arrogant way–sorry for my stupidity) that “I hate cliché stories, where the good guy always wins and gets the girl, and that I prefer more realistic books, where bad stuff happens and sometimes the bad guy wins, because that’s how it goes in the real world”. I sincerely apologize if I said something like that to you. I see the error of my ways, and I understand now why so many stories end in that “cliché” way. It’s because that’s how they should end. If this world was how it should be, the good guy would beat the bad guy and get the girl. And so we keep reading those books and watching those movies because it reminds us of the world how it could be, and should be, and will be one day.

So the reason why I didn’t like The Idiot is that there was no hope. And because of God’s grace in Christ Jesus, there is always hope for us. So while I appreciate a realistic view of man’s depravity, a story is not realistic that does not include hope. Because “hope does not disappoint”.

So there you have it, Andrew. Feel free to rebut any and every part of this post that you see fit.