In addition to book reviews, interviews, and commentaries, I also re-read several classics each calendar year. My perennials include Sophocles’ Oedipus Tyrannus and Antigone, Shakespeare’s four mature tragedies (Hamlet, Othello, King Lear, and Macbeth), Ecclesiastes (Old Testament) and St. Paul’s letters in Corinthians I (New Testament), Thoreau’s Walden, and Joyce’s Dubliners.
How do I define a “classic”? Each time I re-read it, it stimulates my mind and nourishes my soul in ways and to an extent it never did before. It is timeless. It cannot be “housebroken.”
This year, I have also re-read “The Grand Inquisitor” from Dostoevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov and “Allegory of the Cave” from Plato’s Republic. For those who have not as yet read “The Grand Inquisitor,” here’s the situation: In Book V, Chapter 5, “Pro and Contra,” Ivan Karamazov shares a prose poem with his brother, Alyosha. In a town in Spain, in the sixteenth century, Christ reappears after apparently being reborn on Earth. As he walks through the streets, the people gather about him, staring in wonder. He begins to heal the sick when interrupted by the arrival of a powerful cardinal who orders his guards to arrest Christ. Late that night, the cardinal, the Grand Inquisitor, visits Christ in his cell and explains why he has taken him prisoner and cannot be allowed to perform his works. The gist of it is, that Christ threatens what the Roman Catholic Church has become and is too dangerous. The Grand Inquisitor reminds Christ of when he rejected Satan three times. By doing so, he guaranteed that man would have free will. Well, man cannot handle free will and needs the Church to tell him what to think and feel, what to believe, and how to live. As the Chapter 5 ends, Christ who has remained silent throughout stands up and kisses the Cardinal.
This prose poem possesses several elements of an allegory, a fable, and a parable. It is rich in symbolic significance. I think its greatest value is derived from the questions Dostoevsky evokes rather any answers it may imply. Each of the three brothers represents component of humanity: Dimitri > passion, Ivan > reason, and Alyosha > faith. Here’s my take. First, Dostoevsky affirms the importance of having faith despite doubt rather than only when there is no doubt. He also suggests that almost any assertion makes sense if we accept the assumptions on which it is based, especially if the assumptions seem “reasonable.” Finally, Dostoevsky acknowledges what could be characterized as “the burden of free will.” The quality of one’s life tends to be determined by the choices made, and the values that guide and inform them. In essence, we cannot control everything that happens to us but we can almost always determine how we respond. That is true of Dimitri, Ivan, and Alyosha. It is also true of the Grand Inquisitor and, yes, Fyodor Dostoevsky.
By the way, I also highly recommend a resource that should be a part of every thoughtful person’s “brain food” library: Peter Watson’s Ideas: A History of Thought and Invention, from Fire to Freud (848 pages, published by Harper/Perennial). Amazon now sells the paperbound edition for only $15.15. Watson has obtained unsurpassed erudition concerning the history of thought while developing a unique writing style that I characterize as sparkling eloquence.