The Adolescent -

Fiódor Dostoiévski

Everyman's Library

2003

520 páginas

17h 20m

ISBN-13: 9781400041183

This superb new translation—never before published—of one of Dostoevsky’s major novels comes from the award-winning translators Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky. The Adolescent (originally published in English as A Raw Youth) is markedly different in tone from Dostoevsky’s other masterpieces. It is told from the point of view of the nineteen-year-old narrator, whose immaturity, freshness, and naïveté are unforgettably reflected in his narrative voice.

The illegitimate son of a landowner, Arkady Dolgoruky was raised by foster parents and tutors, and has scarcely ever seen his father, Versilov, and his mother, Versilov’s peasant common-law wife. Arkady goes to Petersburg to meet this “accidental family” and to confront the father who dominates his imagination and whom he both disdains and longs to impress. Having sewn into his coat a document that he believes gives him power over others, Arkady proceeds with an irrepressible youthful volatility that withstands blunders and humiliations at every turn. Dostoevsky masterfully depicts adolescence as a state of uncertainty, ignorance, and incompleteness, but also of richness and exuberance, in which everything is still possible. His tale of a youth finding his way in the disorder of Russian society in the 1870s is a high and serious comedy that borders on both farce and tragedy.

Resenhas (1)

3 (Bom)

“Learn everything, so that when you meet a godless or mischievous man, you can give him answers, so that he won't hurl insensate words at you and confuse your immature thoughts.”

I came across a very interesting article written by Stephen West explaining Symposium by Plato. The article revolves around love and its convoluted depth. Diotima, one of the philosophers, presents the concept as rungs of a ladder, where each step represents a higher form of love. Progressively and adapted from the birth of romanticism: physical beauty, personality, ideas embodied in a person, and, finally, love of knowledge and institutions. Making a parallel with the development of a youngster, these thresholds may be convoluted, as many things in life are, but they differ very little.
The Adolescent is about the misadventures of the young Arkady, coexisting with his non-biological father, Versilov. Arkady faces many moral dilemmas, compelling the reader to reflect on the protagonist's decisiveness, instincts, and revolutionary tendencies. Although it is recognized by some as juxtaposing each character as an aspect of Mother Russia at that time, Arkady’s struggle is vivid. Grappling with oppression, caring deeply about what the world thinks of him, striving to understand genuine expressions, seeking the path to be stirred by noble ideas, and gaining a cosmological perspective—these are the rungs of a ladder, but to maturity.
One of Dostoevsky’s central ideas revolves around the incredibly cruel nature of humans. I often questioned myself about its tone. Is he exaggerating the drama? Does his melancholic narrative bleed more than it represents truth? What about the extremism and detailed comical situations in each novel? How do these novels remain entertaining for over a century? His words on psychological depth and the beautiful descriptions of human relationships are something truly special to experience. They helped me name emotions and navigate possibilities in casuistry.
Fitzgerald writes in The Beautiful and the Damned: “Not half a dozen men have ever been able to keep the whole equation of pictures in their heads.” I think it’s very hard to stay sharp and balanced: granting the benefit of the doubt, which elegantly allows you to remain open-minded by recognizing the indefinable essence of someone, while also witnessing and acknowledging the cruelty imposed or committed by the same individuals. Dostoevsky understood this and it aligns with what our justice system preaches and struggles with—to judge first and foremost, the act itself.
What kind of society breeds scoundrels—those who live for disorderliness and fortuitousness? And why must one necessarily be noble? Dostoevsky’s experiences in Mother Russia make us wonder about the constant reinforcement and fostering required for what seemed like “conquered” fields. In his words: “You see, sir, there are three sorts of scoundrels in the world: naïve scoundrels, that is, those who are convinced that their meanness is the highest nobility; ashamed scoundrels, that is, those who are ashamed of their meanness but fully intend to go through with it anyway; and, finally, sheer scoundrels, purebred scoundrels.”
He acknowledges, at that time, how flawed our memory can be—eliminating unused or sometimes critical information, such as what we’ve achieved as a society and what we endured to reach this point. Like Nietzsche, but in a novelist's way, Dostoevsky makes us question whether a hundred-year lifespan is enough to claim wisdom. If something went terribly wrong in our societal structure, what should we do? Surviving the bygone era of Slavophilism wore Russians down with grief, but strength could still be found in each noble, inhibited, and long-time abased heart.

Link to my highlights: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1Z3IfPsqQYtjprPzDPjBhiWTmX7tnGQ_i/view?usp=sharing