Russian literature -- 19th century -- History and criticism
Dostoievsky is a Realist, and he sees things as they are all through
life, from the most important matters down to the most trivial. He is
free from cant, either moral or political, and absolutely free from all
prejudice of caste or class. It is impossible for him to think that
because a man is a revolutionary he must therefore be a braver man than
his fellows, or because a man is a Conservative he must therefore be a
more cruel man than his fellows, just as it is impossible for him to
think the contrary, and to believe that because a man is a Conservative
he cannot help being honest, or because a man is a Radical he must
inevitably be a scoundrel. He judges men and things as they are, quite
apart from the labels which they choose to give to their political
opinions. That is why nobody who is by nature a doctrinaire[23] can
appreciate or enjoy the works of Dostoievsky, since any one who bases
his conduct upon theory cannot help at all costs being rudely shocked
at every moment by Dostoievsky’s creed, which is based on reality and
on reality alone. Dostoievsky sees and embraces everything as it really
is. The existence of evil, of ugliness and of suffering, inspires him
with only one thing, and this is pity; and his pity is like that which
King Lear felt on the Heath when he said:
“Poor naked wretches, wheresoe’er you are,
That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm,
How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides,
Your loop’d and window’d raggedness, defend you
From seasons such as these? O, I have ta’en
Too little care of this! Take physic, pomp;
Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel,
That thou may’st shake the superflux to them,
And show the heavens more just.”
Dostoievsky has a right to say such things, because throughout his life
he not only exposed himself, but was exposed, to feel what wretches
feel; because he might have said as King Lear said to Cordelia:
“I am bound
Upon a wheel of fire that mine own tears
Do scald like molten lead.”
He knew what wretches feel, by experience and not by theory, and all
his life he was bound upon a “wheel of fire.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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