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Notes from the Underground was written at a time when the plight of
the lower classes was finally being recognized in Russia. The
Underground Man himself, while not of the lowest class, does
consider himself impoverished, much to his embarrassment and
resentment. Many of his attempts at revenge are simultaneously
driven and thwarted by his social standing as compared to that of his
enemies.
In the Underground Man's view, moral and intellectual superiority
ought to be synonymous with social and financial superiority.
NOTES FROM THE UNDERGROUND THEME OF REVENGE
And that's where Dostoevsky comes in. The Underground Man first
brings up the notion of the Crystal Palace in Part I, Chapter Seven
when he's talking about how awful things will be if we ever figure out
all the rules of nature (because then man won't have free will
anymore). It is at this moment, he says, that the Crystal Palace will
finally be built. Then he digresses for a bit. When he comes back to it,
he's got a few reasons why we shouldn't go along with
Chernyshevsky.
Reason #1: Hen houses are not mansions
More than anything, the Underground Man rejects the idea that he
can't "stick [his] tongue out at" the Crystal Palace. This is highly
problematic for a man who makes it his life's work to mock
everything.
These two ideas come up a lot. And they really piss off the
Underground Man. His argument goes like this: 1) free will means
man gets to do whatever he wants. 2) The laws of nature say that 2+2
always has to equal 4. 3) He wants 2+2 to equal 5. 4) The laws of
nature are a stone wall standing in the way of his free will.
ANALYSIS: SETTING
Where It All Goes Down
St. Petersburg, Russia, in the 1840s and 60s, in a metaphorical hovel underground
As for the actual underground hovel itself, well that's a big metaphor
you can read about in "Symbols, Imagery, and Allegory."
ANALYSIS: NARRATOR POINT OF VIEW
Who is the narrator, can she or he read minds, and, more importantly, can we trust her or him?
The narrative voice in Notes from the Underground is, of course, that
of the Underground Man. And in fact, much of the text is just his
voice, talking to us.
When the Underground Man later declares that his readers don't
exist that these "gentlemen" to whom he has been speaking are
imagined he renders absurd his entire "retort." He's responding to
nothing. He's a retort to a voice that doesn't exist. And that's quite a
premise for a first-person novel.
ANALYSIS: GENRE
Realism, Philosophical Literature
First of all, we're going to talk about the tone of Notes from the
Underground not the tone of the Underground Man himself. The
difference is that we're looking at the work as a whole and addressing
Dostoevsky's attitude, not just the bitter and angry attitude of his
main character. Now, the question of whether or not the
Underground Man isDostoevsky himself is a big can of worms. To
address this question means to go into Dostoevsky's other works,
mess around with his biography, read his letters and personal
accounts we're talking about a major, major project.
Still, if you don't want to do this, you can look at Notes as it stands
alone. If the question really interests you, check out the beginning
and end notes from the author. What hints does Dostoevsky give
about his view of the Underground Man? Does he try to distance
himself from his character? We'll let you take care of that while we
address what appears to be the author's tone as distinct from the tone
of his character.
We'll start with the easy part, our "darkly comic" label above. You
may have laughed a few times reading Notes from the Underground.
If you're reading the Constance Garnett translation (which we read),
the humour might not come across as clearly as it does with, say,
translator Michael R. Katz. Check out this passage from Katz's
translation: "Well, even if you reach the same result [], at least
you'll be able to flog yourself from time to time, and that will liven
things up a bit. Although it may be reactionary, it's still better than
nothing."
How can we tell it's polemic? Look at the Underground Man's fantasy
of being a professional "aesthete" (a person focused on the artistic
qualities of everything). "An artist, for instance, paints a picture
worthy of Gay. At once I drink to the health of the artist who painted
the picture worthy of Gay, because I love all that is 'sublime and
beautiful.' An author has written As you will: at once I drink to the
health of 'anyone you will' because I love all that is 'sublime and
beautiful.'" This is Jon-Stewart-quality material. Dostoevsky is clearly
mocking the fat (his description, not ours), lazy people who
"appreciate art" for a living. Even the phrase "sublime and beautiful"
comes from Immanuel Kant, one of the men against whom
Dostoevsky rails. Dostoevsky's tone, in its exaggeration and incisive
bite, screams "polemic."
Of course, there are those who think it's not polemic, that Dostoevsky
actually wasn't writing in response to Chernyshevsky (the Crystal
Palace guy) and all the other thinkers/writers/philosophers to whom
he refers. For more perspectives on this issue, please see websites
such as this and this.
ANALYSIS: WRITING STYLE
Manipulative, Multi-Layered, Iterative, Metaphoric, and of course, Goosebump -Inducing
Now read this sentence not for content, but for structure: "And in
particular it may be more advantageous than any advantage even
when it does us obvious harm, and contradicts the soundest
conclusions of our reason concerning our advantagefor in any
circumstances it preserves for us what is most precious and most
importantthat is, our personality, our individuality." Structurally,
the meat of the sentence (subject and verb) are done with right away:
"It may be more advantageous than any advantage." That's it. The
rest of the sentence serves to qualify and refine this main idea, down
to the tiniest specification. Even the specifications have
specifications. This is what we mean when we call the style "multi-
layered' and even "iterative," since the Underground Man will often
repeat the same concept in slightly altered forms. All the time he is
refining further and further that which he wants to express. It makes
sense, too first he points out the big picture, and then he gets down
to the details. Since much of this refining has to do with metaphors
(the mouse, the wall, the Crystal Palace, the chess game, the ant-
heaps, we could go on forever), we think we're pretty justified with
the "metaphoric" label too.
What is to be done with the millions of facts that bear witness that
men, consciously, that is fully understanding their real interests,
have left them in the background and have rushed headlong on
another path, to meet peril and danger, compelled to this course by
nobody and by nothing, but, as it were, simply disliking the beaten
track, and have obstinately, willfully, struck out another difficult,
absurd way, seeking it almost in the darkness.
Now tell us you don't have goosebumps. If that isn't sublime and
beautiful, we don't know what is.
ANALYSIS: WHAT'S UP WITH THE TITLE
First off, what is the title, exactly? You may have seen it as Notes
from the Underground, as we refer to it on Shmoop, or Notes from
Underground, or even Letters from the Underworld (someone was
feeling creative that day). This is all the fault of translation; since the
work was originally written is Russian, it quite fittingly has a Russian
title. Translations are never exact, so you end up with a variety of
titles to choose from . Notes from Underground is the most literal
translation; we refer to it as Notes from the Underground because
Shmoop uses the Constance Garnett translation by that name.
But that's not all. We're dealing with Russian literature; so there's
always a shout-out to other great literature somewhere. As you've
likely heard by now, Notes from the Underground was in part a
response to Nikolai Chernyshevsky's What Is to Be Done?. In
Chernyshevsky's novel, while ranting about how great rational
egoism is, one of the characters asks rhetorically, "Do you hear that,
in your underground hole?"
Of course, this question didn't stay rhetorical for long, because Notes
from the Underground gives an answer (In short: "You bet your
fanny I hear it, and oh man, do I have a lot to say in return. You'd
better have a seat.")
ANALYSIS: WHAT'S UP WITH THE EPIGRAPH
Epigraphs are like little appetizers to the great entre of a story. They illuminate important aspects of the story,
and they get us headed in the right direction.
(Epigraph for Part II)
But about the poem. Note that it's an epigraph to Part II, not to the
work as a whole. And that makes sense, since the subject of the poem
has much to do with " Propos of the Wet Snow," Part II of Notes.
And that subject isdegraded prostitutes.
The point is that the Underground Man is living his life according to
literature, which of course is ridiculous for a man who berates foolish
Romantics for being, well, foolish romantics. For more on this, read
everything else we have to say on Notes.
ANALYSIS: PLOT ANALYSIS
Most good stories start with a fundamental list of ingredients: the initial situation, conflict, complication, climax,
suspense, denouement, and conclusion. Great writers sometimes shake up the recipe and add some spice.
Initial Situation
The conflict becomes clear once the Underground Man starts talking
about "the wall," his metaphor for the laws of nature. (Read all about
it in "Symbols, Imagery, and Allegory.") Consider these two images:
the man of action is a bull who is stopped cold by the stone wall. The
man of consciousness can't do anything about the wall either, but he
is willing to smash his head against it. Both of these suggest that the
real conflict is the stone wall. As the Underground Man continues his
discussion, the wall becomes almost an antagonist. The laws of
nature, after all, are what threaten man's free will.
On the other hand, you could argue that the conflict is more about
inertia and consciousness than anything else. In this way, the conflict
is like a further exploration of the initial situation. "You can't act?
OK, why?" The answer is hyper-consciousness, which leads to inertia.
In this case, consciousness is the real conflict here. After all, the
Underground Man himself claims that "consciousness is an illness."
(Of course, he later negates this sentiment, but that's part of the
complication stage).
Complication
We don't even know where to start.
Consider the idea that the scene in which the Underground Man says
"They won't let meI can't be good!" is actually the climax of the
story. You'll want to pay particular attention to the word "good" and
then go on back to the very first sentence of the novel: "I am a sick
manI am a spiteful man. I am an unattractive man." As translator
Michael Katz points out, the Russian word for "spiteful" can also be
read as "evil." The two words dobryi in the novel's opener
and zloi in this line form a pair of opposites, much like our good/evil
pairing.
Suspense
The Underground Man loses Liza. He wonders whether all his insults
will somehow "purify" and save her.
At this point, it's clear that Liza is gone and the Underground Man
will be left alone, forever. (Of course, we already knew that, as he's
forty now and living alone underground, but it doesn't mean the story
doesn't have its element of suspense. After all, we always knew
Indiana Jones was going to live, but that didn't make watching
Harrison Ford any less entertaining.) Usually, the denouement
makes something clear for the reader all the Underground Man has
done is raise more questions. This is fitting, since we shouldn't really
expect to walk away from a work about uncertainty with any degree
of confidence in objective truth.
Conclusion
The conclusion begins right when the Underground Man pulls out of
his narrative and says, "perhaps I should end these Notes here?"
Then he takes a step back and is able to address what he's just written
as a whole. You know how some English teachers talk about how a
stellar conclusion does more than just reiterate, how it opens the
work in new and interesting ways without leaving loose ends, how it
encourages the reader to take the arguments further himself? Well
this is pretty much textbook-perfect as far as stellar conclusions are
concerned.
Things seem the most hopeful for the Underground Man when he
breaks down crying and confesses everything to Liza. She comforts
him and they have sex, and we have to wonder for a moment if,
perhaps, there isn't some Miraculous Redemption coming soon.
Miraculous Redemption (Or Not)
Act I
The three act plot analysis best applies only to Part II of Notes from
the Underground, since this is when we have action instead of
philosophizing. You can see the elements of the three-act structure
most clearly in the story about Zverkov's dinner. Act I lasts up until
the Underground Man invites himself to the dinner and then
obstinately declares to his reader that, no matter what, he is going.
He's set up the dominoes, and there's no turning back now.
Act II
And it's only downhill from there. Matters continue to get worse and
worse all through dinner as the Underground Man gets further and
further from ever being accepted by Simonov and his friends. We
think the all-time low-point is when the Underground Man begs
Simonov to lend him even more money so he can tag along to the
brothel, even though he is very clearly not wanted.
Act III
Act III takes us all the way through the Underground Man's tryst with
Liza. He resolves the Simonov issue by sending an apology letter, but
we're pretty sure that's isn't going to do the trick. He's likely to be a
social outcast for the rest of eternity, or at least until he dies. When
Liza slams the door and leaves the Underground Man alone, we're in
conclusion land; the Underground Man is right back in the inert
stagnancy he started in.
ANALYSIS: TRIVIA
Brain Snacks: Tasty Tidbits of Knowledge
Let's start with the Underground Man's early claim that he has never
been able to act. His reasoning is that there is no justification for any
action so he remains inert (taking no action). He's so paralyzed by
having to choose what to do that his decision is to not choose. OK,
but this isn't really an option. If he can't justify going outside, he ends
up staying in he's still deciding to stay in, though. If he's sitting
around and brooding all the time, why doesn't he try to justify said
brooding? He claims all a man like he can do is babble what's the
primary cause (motive) for babbling?
Then you've got the claim that he's hyper-conscious, acutely aware.
Check out the passage when he walks the Nevsky, debating how best
to get revenge on the officer, only to pass by the officer before he's
realized what happened. Does this sound like someone who is acutely
conscious of his surroundings?
And what about his disdain for rational egoism? He rejects the idea
that man will act according to his own self-interest, but in many ways
he is the epitome of an egoist. "The world may go to pot," he says, "so
long as I always get my tea." On top of that, he condemns the
"frippery" of French and German romanticism, but he can be quite
the romantic himself. He lives in a world of his own idealistic making
look at the "Lake Como" passage in Part II, Chapter One. His
fantasies are all something out of a cheesy novel. Come to think of it,
most of his life is out of a cheesy novel. The whole idea of the older
man redeeming the young and corrupted prostitute is a major theme
in Russian literature. His obsession with revenge is right out of The
Count of Monte Cristo.
And look at the only time the word "fate" is used in the entire novel,
at the end of Part II, Chapter V, when he decides "It's fate" for him to
go slap Zverkov in the face. If he's not freely determining his own
actions, how could he possibly have free will? Lastly, check out the
line at the end of the Underground Man's hysterical Liza-induced
breakdown: "They won't let meI can't be good!" That doesn't sound
like free will, either.
Still, it's hard to get too caught up in the Underground Man's logic.
Part of the reason he seems so different from us is that he's suffering
from a major case of extremism. He's either a hero, or he's groveling
in the mud. And he knows as much. "There was nothing in between,"
he says, "[and] that was my ruin." He's either living in a dirty hovel,
or he's soaring on flights of "sublime and beautiful" fantasy. In a way,
we want to condemn him for this absurd flip-flopping. But the
Underground Man challenges us in this: "I have only in my life
carried to an extreme what you have not dared to carry halfway." So
perhaps he's a crazy man for living in the extremities of emotion and
opinion. But then again, perhaps we're copping out by living in the
middle ground.
LIZA
Character Analysis
Liza is a prostitute. If you're only going to know one thing about Liza,
this should be it especially because, in the Underground Man's
eyes, this is her defining quality.
Other than that, she can seem a bit hard to pin down. She attracts the
Underground Man without being particularly pretty. She is young,
but with the "grave" nature of someone older. At first, Liza callously
rejects the Underground Man's attempts to make it clear that, really,
her life is awful and, in fact, is only going to get worse. "What's it to
you?" she wants to know.
Of course it's not long before she's weeping into her pillow, so the
Underground Man clearly got to her. (A horrific vision of your future
would probably do the same to you.) But it's not until Liza comes to
the Underground Man's home that we start to get some real insight
into her character. She's nice. Wicked nice, in fact. We'll even go so
far as to call her 'tremendously compassionate.' The Underground
Man yells at her, tells her she's worth nothing, berates her life and
choices, predicts her miserable death, and claims to have been
mocking since they met. And yet, when he breaks down crying, Liza
comforts him.
Now the interesting question when thinking about Liza actually has
more to do with the Underground Man than it as to do with her. Why
does he treat her this way?
Glad you asked! We (and the world of scholarly criticism) have a few
theories.
Reason: There is no reason
Shock Factor: -2
We're not surprised by this one. The Underground Man claims that
he can't find primary reasons for any action. If we ask why he treats
Liza so badly, we can't really expect him to whip out a stellar
justification. The answer would probably be inertia; he's going along
with the status quo flow, and the river has been running in the
direction of hurtfulness for as long as he can remember.
Reason: The Underground Man is selfish
Shock Factor: -3
This would be even less surprising, considering how he says that "the
world may go to pot [] so long as [he] always get[s his] tea." The
Underground Man has made it quite clear that he loves pain and
suffering, and that inflicting it on others (think of the toothache guy)
is enjoyable. So if he's making Liza miserable, it's only becausehe
likes to make people miserable.
Reason: He really is trying to save her, because he's deluded and lives in a world of books
Shock Factor: 1
Again, this makes sense based on what we've seen. The idea of a wise
older cultured man saving a prostitute is popular storyline in Russian
Lit. (Just think Pretty Woman and you'll get the picture.) If you need
proof, just look at the epigraph Nekrasov's poem is about this sort
of relationship. So the Underground Man is acting out one of his
literary fantasies just like he tried to do with the officer on the
Nevsky (that fantasy was about revenge, not prostitutes, but it's
another example of a romantic literary scene). If so, then what
appears to be unabashed cruelty is really just tough love. The
Underground Man posits this theory himself after Liza leaves:
"Resentment why, it is purification; it is a most stinging and painful
consciousness! Tomorrow I should have defiled her soul and have
exhausted her heart, while now the feeling of insult will never die in
her heart, and however loathsome the filth awaiting her the feeling
of insult will elevate and purify her ... by hatred."
Reason: He's actually in love with Liza
Shock Factor: 10
Yes, that's right it's possible that the Underground Man really is in
love with Liza. Who knows maybe love is about suffering. Maybe to
love means to tyrannize, to subjugate, towait a second. This is all
sounding very familiar. See the following:
Cut to the picture of Liza huddled up crying on the floor after their
second time in bed. The Underground Man is flipping out because he
feels "oppressed" by her presence and doesn't really know what to do
with her. (Her = the subjugated objectsee where we're going?
ZVERKOV
Character Analysis
The Underground Man hates Zverkov for so many reasons, it's almost
hard to know where to be begin.
For one, Zverkov is constantly talking about his sexual exploits, and
as a feudal lord he exercises his right to sleep with the virgin brides
before their husbands get to. The guy is pompous, arrogant, vain, and
Mr. Social Butterfly. Well, at least according to the Underground
Man.
Oh, right. This raises a good point: everything we know about
Zverkov we know through our narrator. Either he really is a jerk or
the Underground Man is just jealous of the fact that Zverkov has
what he doesn't. Check this out: "I hated his handsome, but stupid
face (for which I would, however, have gladly exchanged my
intelligent one)." Interesting
APOLLON
Character Analysis
Apollon, like all the minor characters in the book, is filtered through
our not-so-impartial narrator. He's either as much of a jerk as the
Underground Man claims, or he's been unfairly made the victim of
our narrator's unflinching hate for everyone who breathes and even
some who don't. It's hard to think that Apollon is as awful as the
Underground Man makes him out to be; how can a servant be
superior, pedantic, and condescending? On top of that, the
Underground Man seems to hate him for things like reading
psalms.On the other hand, though, Apollon does seem like a jerk
when Liza shows up, but again we can't be sure that the way his
actions are portrayed is how they actually went down.
Looking over this, the word "inertia" comes to mind. Apollon is a part
of the flat, sure, but more importantly he's part of the routine, the
way things are. The Underground Man has a hard time changing
anything because his hyper-consciousness prevents him from acting.
This is why, he explains, he's bogged down in "inertia" (remember, a
resistance to change) and we can see that playing out here with his
servant.