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A review by henryv
The Idiot by Fyodor Dostoevsky
5.0
I would read this 19th century novel only for Prince Myshkin the so-called "Idiot", a 'holy fool', and Nastasya Filippovna, a complex, piteous, feisty, worshipped, orphaned, tormented & tragic woman of great beauty who was brought up to be a kept mistress. Aside from Nastasya Filippovna, the beauty of the book is reading how Myshkin navigates around his own sense of divided love, between Nastasya and Aglaya and how he contends with the greed and ambition of others.
His thoughts on death, execution, infidelity, insanity, the profound depths of mentality, of dread and fear, are all presented in the unravelling of this tragic tale set amongst a small group of individuals in St Petersburg in the mid-19th century (I read one review online calling it the 'Real housewives of St Petersburg').
Written in instalments, the intricate plots, the love triangles, the tragic love story intensifies as the narrative continues. But essentially, I really chose this book, for Myshkin's soul-searching soliloquies, his internal dialogues in which you sense you can hear the voice of Dostoevsky. One of the most fascinating passages I remember, is a description of the moments before Myshkin has an epileptic fit, it is a luminous insight into Dostoevsky's own epilepsy, if not his own creative process.
His thoughts on death, execution, infidelity, insanity, the profound depths of mentality, of dread and fear, are all presented in the unravelling of this tragic tale set amongst a small group of individuals in St Petersburg in the mid-19th century (I read one review online calling it the 'Real housewives of St Petersburg').
Written in instalments, the intricate plots, the love triangles, the tragic love story intensifies as the narrative continues. But essentially, I really chose this book, for Myshkin's soul-searching soliloquies, his internal dialogues in which you sense you can hear the voice of Dostoevsky. One of the most fascinating passages I remember, is a description of the moments before Myshkin has an epileptic fit, it is a luminous insight into Dostoevsky's own epilepsy, if not his own creative process.