Elder Zosima's Words Born from Dostoevsky's Personal Experience of Losing His Child: 'Reading The Brothers Karamazov' (10)
Elder Zosima's Words Born from Dostoevsky's Personal Experience of Losing His Child: 'Reading The Brothers Karamazov' (10)
Book II: An Unfortunate Gathering, 3: The Believing Peasants
As the title of this article suggests, this chapter discusses something extremely important. That is the comfort provided by Elder Zosima. While we will look at the content later, this chapter begins with a series of significant events unfolding one after another.
Elder Zosima, having left the hermitage where Fyodor's clownish behavior had exploded, headed toward the people waiting for him.
We then witness the fervor of the believers who had been waiting anxiously for him.
I will leave the description of that fervor for you to read in the text itself, but what do we modern Japanese feel when we see the enthusiasm of these people, who might be called fanatical? I suspect we would likely get the impression that it is outdated and superstitious.
This seems to have been the case even for the Russian intellectuals of the time, and Dostoevsky, anticipating this, adds a preemptive explanation. In other words, the miracles that are the source of these people's fervor are actually rational. He argues that because these simple peasant women believe in the miracle of healing from the bottom of their hearts, it acts upon their minds and bodies, making the healing of convulsions and illnesses possible.
Dostoevsky was a man who lived by the faith of the Russian Orthodox Church, but he also possessed an extremely rational mind. How to harmonize these miracles with a rational spirit was a major concern for Dostoevsky. This is precisely reflected in the protagonist, Alyosha.
In contrast, Tolstoy advocated for a rational religion that thoroughly excluded miracles. His work 'The Gospel in Brief' is a work that completely removes miracles from the Bible. This could be said to be the decisive difference between Dostoevsky and Tolstoy.
Dostoevsky does not deny miracles. However, as is also depicted in the portrayal of Alyosha, the key is that he does not just blindly believe in miracles either.
I will not delve further into this here, but this view of Christianity held by Dostoevsky is reflected in the later 'Grand Inquisitor' chapter and the 'Cana of Galilee' section. Keeping this in mind will surely make the later parts even more enjoyable.
And now, we finally enter the core of the matter.
Among the peasant women clamoring for a miracle, there was one woman who stood out. Zosima did not overlook her. An extraordinary sorrow was overflowing from her.
The woman's name was Nastasya. It seems she had come from far away to meet Elder Zosima.
And as he listened to her story, it turned out that she had lost her child, who was about to turn three, and was in despair.
Writing it this way makes it sound too prosaic, and I think the sorrow is hard to convey, so please, by all means, savor it again and again in the original text. I feel like crying every time I read this passage.
And what is important is that this exchange between the mother and the Elder comes from Dostoevsky's own personal experience.
As I have mentioned before, Dostoevsky himself lost his beloved child and was plunged into despair. Moreover, this was at the very time he was conceiving and writing 'The Brothers Karamazov'.
Since we are at it, let us look at Dostoevsky's state at this time from the memoirs of his wife, Anna Dostoevskaya.
On May 6, 1876, a terrible misfortune struck our home. Our youngest son, Alyosha, passed away.
There was no warning of the sorrow that had befallen us. The child had been healthy and in good spirits as usual.
On the morning of the day he died, Alyosha was chatting in his barely understandable baby talk with the nanny, Prokhorovna, who had come to play for a while before we left for Staraya Russa, and he was even laughing out loud.
Suddenly, the child's little face began to twitch slightly. The nanny thought it was the convulsions that children sometimes have when they are teething. Indeed, the child was starting to get his molars at that time. I was horrified and immediately sent for Dr. Choshin, our family pediatrician. He lived nearby, so he came right away. He must not have thought it was a serious illness, as he prescribed something and said the convulsions would soon subside.
But the convulsions (Note from blog author: is this a typo for 'keiren'?) continued, so I woke up Fyodor Mikhailovich (Note from blog author: referring to Dostoevsky), and my husband was terribly worried.
We decided to have a neurologist see him, and I went to ask Professor Uspensky. The professor was in the middle of consultations, and about twenty patients were waiting in the waiting room. He met with me briefly and told me he would make a house call as soon as he finished his consultations. He prescribed some sedative and ordered me to bring an oxygen inhaler, which is sometimes used on children.
When I returned, the poor boy was still in the same state. He had lost consciousness and was occasionally twitching his little body. To look at him, he didn't seem to be in pain, as he wasn't moaning or crying out. We did not leave the side of this little sufferer, waiting anxiously for the doctor to arrive. The doctor finally arrived around two o'clock, examined the child, and said to me, 'Do not cry, do not worry. It will be over soon.'
My husband saw the doctor out, but returned pale and knelt beside the sofa where the boy had been moved to make it easier for the doctor to examine him. I knelt beside my husband, dying to ask him what the doctor had said (I was told later that the doctor had told my husband that the death throes had already begun), but my husband signaled to me not to speak.
After about an hour, the convulsions had noticeably weakened. Encouraged by what the doctor had said, I was even happy, thinking the convulsions were turning into a peaceful sleep and that this might be a sign of recovery. Then, suddenly, the boy's breathing stopped, and that was the end. The feeling of despair I had at that moment! My husband kissed the boy, crossed himself three times, and began to sob. I also began to cry out loud. The older children, who loved little Alyosha so much, also cried and wailed in their grief.
※Some line breaks added for easier reading on smartphones, etc.
Whenever I read about this sad event, I cannot help but tear up... I feel overwhelmed when I think of the sorrow of Mr. and Mrs. Dostoevsky...
Fyodor Mikhailovich was deeply shocked by this death. For some reason, he was particularly fond of Alyosha, and his pathological affection for him seemed as if he had a premonition that he would soon lose him. My husband was especially tormented by the fact that the boy had died of epilepsy—a disease he had inherited from him. On the surface, he appeared calm, enduring the blow of fate like a man.
Modern medicine tells us that the hereditary nature of epilepsy is low.
Therefore, Dostoevsky did not need to blame himself, but the year was 1878. How could he have known that? And even if he had known, what good would it have done?
Dostoevsky suffered, believing it was his fault. His beloved child Alyosha had died because of him. Why did this child have to suffer such a fate? What on earth did this child do!
Dostoevsky's suffering was extraordinary.
However, I was deeply worried that as a result of him enduring this profound grief, it might have a negative effect on him, or that he might even ruin his health.
Hoping to comfort my husband (※Note by blog author: likely a typo for 'my husband') even a little and distract him from his painful mood, I asked Vladimir Solovyov, who visited us frequently during this sad period, to invite my husband to go with him to the Optina Monastery, which he had planned to visit that summer.
Visiting the Optina Monastery had been my husband's long-cherished dream, but it was quite difficult to put into practice. Solovyov agreed and began to persuade my husband to go with him. I also strongly encouraged it, so my husband went to Moscow in the middle of June (he had already planned to go to Moscow to consult with Katkov about his next novel), and took the opportunity to go to the Optina Monastery with Solovyov.
If he had been alone, I would not have let him go on such a long and, especially at that time, difficult journey. Solovyov was, in my opinion, a person who was 'out of touch with the world,' but he would surely have been careful if my husband had an epileptic seizure.
My heart was shaken by the death of my dear boy. Everyone could see how much I had changed; I could not do anything, and I just cried in sorrow. I lost my usual cheerfulness and energy, and instead became indifferent to everything. I lost interest in everything, including housework, work, and even my own children, and just indulged in memories of the past three years. My husband depicted my various worries, thoughts, and even things I said in the chapter 'The Believing Women' in 'The Brothers Karamazov,' where a woman who lost her child tells Elder Zosima about her grief.
My husband was deeply troubled by my state. He pleaded with me and told me to follow God's will, to accept this misfortune that God had given us, and in his own words, to have pity on myself and my children, for whom I had become 'indifferent.' Moved by his exhortations, I decided to restrain myself so that my grief, which was immediately apparent, would not cause further suffering to my already pitiful husband.
※Some line breaks added for easier reading on smartphones, etc.
As you can see from reading this passage, 'The Brothers Karamazov' was a work born from the sorrow of Mr. and Mrs. Dostoevsky.
The fate of children born into this world. Dostoevsky had a strong attachment to this. And this had already been spoken of many times with a gentle gaze in 'A Writer's Diary' but perhaps that feeling was strengthened even more through the death of Alyosha. In 'The Brothers Karamazov,' children play an incredibly large role. In contrast to the bloody and foolish world of adults, children are depicted as a salvation.
Immediately after burying Alyosha (we buried him in the Bolshaya Okhta Cemetery), we moved to Staraya Russa, and subsequently, on June 20th, my husband had already arrived in Moscow. There, he was able to put together his new novel ('The Brothers Karamazov') in a very short period of time through discussions with the editorial department. After finishing this work, he went to the Optina Monastery. The circumstances of the trip, or rather the 'wandering' with Solovyov, are described in a letter my husband gave me on June 29, 1878.
Fyodor Mikhailovich returned from the Optina Monastery visibly calmed, as if his heart had been soothed. And he told me various things about the customs of the monastery, where he had spent two full days.
I met the then-famous 'Elder' Father Ambrose three times. Once among the crowd, and the other two times face-to-face, and the conversation I had with the priest gave him a deep, heartfelt impression. When my husband told the Elder about the misfortune that had befallen us and the state of my excessive grief, the Elder asked if I was a believer. When my husband nodded, the Elder said to convey his blessing to me. The same words were later spoken by Elder Zosima in the novel to a grieving mother.
From my husband's story, I could clearly see what a magnificent observer and visionary this universally respected Elder was.
※Some line breaks added for easier reading on smartphones, etc.
As Mrs. Anna states, the scene where Elder Zosima speaks gently to a mother who has lost her child is precisely because of this real-life experience.
'The Brothers Karamazov' is such a famous work, and it is even introduced as 'a novel that university students should read!', so I think the majority of people read this work without knowing the life of Dostoevsky himself. I was the same. It was a case of 'This novel seems amazing, so I'll try reading it.' I suspect there are few people who started reading it out of an interest in Dostoevsky himself.
However, don't you feel that the thoughts put into this work are conveyed more effectively when you read it after knowing this life of Dostoevsky?
I always feel moved when I think that his own tumultuous life is packed into this final masterpiece. 'The Brothers Karamazov' is that kind of work.
In the next article, let's take a look at those words of Zosima.
To be continued
Click here for the next article
Click here for the previous article
Series articles'Reading The Brothers Karamazov'Click here for the list of articles in this magazine
The following articles summarize recommended guidebooks to help you enjoy Dostoevsky's novels even more. Please refer to these as well.
Click here for a list of recommended Dostoevsky books
'List of recommended Dostoevsky biographies'
'List of recommended Dostoevsky guidebooks'
'List of recommended guidebooks on Dostoevsky and Christianity'
Click here for the Dostoevsky chronology
Click here for 'Dostoevsky's Travels'
Related articles