Demons

Demons opens up with a brief exposition on the two decade long relationship between the reckless, impulsive poet, Stepan Trofimovich, and the woman who keeps him, the rich, aloof, forever exasperated landowner, Varvara Petrovna. Theirs is a strange relationship, but perhaps not so uncommon then as it would be now. Stepan Trofimovich's reputation lies on the creativity of his youth, now, approaching fifty, these glory days are all but behind him. He has become little more than a celebrated scholar. Varvara loves him, but is waiting for him to declare it, something he will never do. While much given to spouting romantic phrases in both French and Russian at the drop of a hat, he is a flighty, inconsistent man. He loves her very much, but prefers to reveal his feelings to the mostly nameless narrator with moans and groans about his fate.

During this long 'Not an Introduction', we are introduced, also, to the many and varied inhabitants of the small Russian town. Most of the characters - and even many of the very minor ones - are fully fleshed out, with families, backgrounds, desires, thoughts, hopes, dreams, motives. A few in particular stand out. There is Krillov, the man who is determined to end his life not through depression or melancholy, but through a choice, allowing himself to be the first man to have free-will, and thus to become God. But he is burdened with this responsibility, endlessly philosophising with himself through sleepless nights. Shatov, the bitter student, a man who wants to fight God but cannot, who tried his luck in America and failed. Karmazinov, the once-great author, losing his talent and perhaps his mind, inflated by an unjustifiable sense of self-worth. Lebyadkin, the drunken captain with the lame sister, a secret shame he never reveals. Through these characters and more we are able to ascertain the political, philosophical and economical feelings of the times, and every one becomes a fully realised, three dimensional character.

Nikolai Vsevolodovich and Pyotr Stepanovich, a son each to the two characters mentioned above, return to the town after years of being away. Stavrogin (Nikolai) is respected and feared, he carries a dark secret. Verkhovensky (Pyotor) is a mystery, and seems able to worm his way into upper society with ease. As the book develops, the two are involved in ever more intricate schemes, always hinted at and never revealed, while all about the Russians are living their lives. Tracts are written, political meetings are held, Verkhovensky and Stavrogin seemingly the masters of this game, however, in their meetings, it is uncertain which one really knows what is going on, and who is the true power.

In typical Dostoevsky fashion, all emotions are felt perhaps too well, with people moaning and crying and fainting and falling to death from shock. This romantic touch adds greatly to the drama of the story, more so as the plots thicken, intertwine, and begin to be revealed, and as the body count increases, so too does the tension. One of the last chapters, involving Verkhovensky and Krillov, is perhaps the greatest, containing such a breadth and depth of ideas about reality and God as to make one step back and reflect on what he has read. The ideas presented, all throughout the book, are lucid, coherent, and undeniably powerful. Add to this the completely realised characters, and what is left is a brilliant book that looks at the social forces of an ideological revolt under false pretenses, and just what man is prepared to do to gain power. The only negative is that the second to last chapter is a - necessary - disappointment, flatly written and seemingly tacked on, but apart from this, it is one of the greatest books I have read.