I began The Brothers Karamozov a few days ago, and I've read the first 33 pages. And if I hadn't promised to read this damn thing I'd have thrown it across the room and be done with it. Before I get too far into it, let me give you some context. According to Wikipedia, and the one or two sources I leapt to from there, The Brothers Karamozov is the culmination of Dostoyevsky's writing life. This was it. The big bang. The one that was going to say it all. But most writers aren't that lucky. They tend to peak and then that's it. They might have flashes of brilliance in their later books, but generally there's one book, usually the one in the middle of their output, and that's the end of it. Take a look at Kurt Vonnegut. His peak was Slaughterhouse Five. The following books are good, but not that great. Then there are those who are unlucky enough to have their debut be their best, and the rest is downhill from there. I can't think of anyone offhand, but if you can think of someone, feel free to list him or her in the comments. We'll see if Dostoyevsky truly did write his greatest book at the end of his career. Based on the first 33 pages, I'd say he failed. His sin? He writes like an amateur. He tells. The first five chapters are about the father, Fyodor Pavlovich Karamozov, and his three sons, Dmitri, Ivan, and Alexey.

The first chapter tells of Fyodor, a land owner, who was married twice, had three sons by his two wives (one with his first, two with his second). He’s a widower, and something of a lecher. He likes to party. He likes to get down, waste money, and have a good time. He seems only vaguely aware of his sons, who are sent off to be raised by others. I get the impression that the people in the town don’t like him too much. But whatever. That doesn’t seem to faze him.

First son Dmitri is raised by Fyodor’s servant Grigor. For several years Dmitri lives in poverty because of this. His mother is dead, and there’s very little money to be had. I didn’t really care why. It’s not that Dmitri is hateful or a shit character. It’s just that Dostoyevsky doesn’t seem to care about telling the story well, so I don’t really care about what’s going on in it. Nevertheless, Dmitri prevails, and heads to college. He has to support himself, so he does so by writing news stories under the pen name “Eyewitness.” Why not use his own name? He’s not in the same town as his father. Does his father’s reputation extend so far? Or was this how things were done? Anyway, the stories are popular, and he writes quite a bit – enough to get by, until the cash kicks in, and he can enjoy university.

Second son Ivan

Third son Alexey seems naïve, but he’s not. How do we know? Because Dostoyevsky tells us so. Alexey goes through life like this. He seems like he’s a nice enough guy. But when he goes to university, he drops out and decides to become a priest. This leads him back home to his father, who will have nothing to do with Alexey becoming a priest.

I think one of the worst offenses comes in this chapter. When Alexey heads home to see his father, Dostoyevsky has to play catch up with the character of Fyodor.

He writes after three-and-a-half pages about Alexey:
“By the way, about Fyodor Pavlovich. For a long time before then…”

And so on.

A line like that makes me think of people who tell jokes badly. It makes me think if Dostoyevsky told a joke it would come off like this:

A woman walks into a bar and orders a drink. As the bartender pours her the drink, he asks, “Hey, why the long face?” Oh, and the woman is Celine Dion.

Nothing against Celine, but you get the point. This is sloppy work. And I don’t think writing this as a serial is an excuse. It’s bad planning on Dostoyevsky’s part. I only hope it gets better. If any of us wrote like this, or presented this as a debut novel, we would probably be rejected, and if we weren’t, I’d worry about the editor’s/agent’s taste.

Finally, an aside – it seems that there is no “save the cat” moment for any of the characters. This is a movie concept, but I think it works in books as well. When a character saves the cat, it happens early on, and it’s an act that shows the character give of himself for no gain. That endears us to the character, gives us something for which to root. It doesn’t have to be a “Save the cat” moment. It can be a “Kill the cat,” if it’s appropriate to the character (see American Psycho.)

In a book I think this can come in a character’s thoughts. In Slaughterhouse Five, Billy Pilgrim has his save the cat moment in his thoughts. Hey, he’s a pretty passive character. But there’s nothing in Brothers to endear me to any of the brothers or the father. Alexey may have that moment by giving himself to the priesthood, but I don’t have the greatest feeling about the group to which he’s pledging himself.

Now, I know I promised to read this book in its entirety, but I think I’ll only give it another 67 pages. If it gets no better, then on the dust pile it goes (it’s a nice copy, so maybe I’ll sell it). If I have to start another book, I think I’ll start Graham Greene’s The Heart of the Matter.