Dostoyevsky vs. My Attention Span

In Russia, Book Reads You

I read a challenging book. In my recent essay about quitting social media and my commitment to read more in 2023, I’ve taken things to the next level in 2024 by reducing my device usage and entertainment consumption even further, while significantly raising my reading goals. One of my two primary objectives is to read at least 12 “classics,” including two substantial ones. I’ve just completed the first one, “The Brothers Karamazov” by Fyodor Dostoyevsky. While the book itself was thought-provoking and fascinating, the experience of reading it was almost as valuable to me.

I’ve been surprised to discover how many people are unfamiliar with this book. To be honest, I hadn’t heard much about it until I considered Dostoyevsky as a potential first target for tackling a lengthy novel.

So why did I choose this book? I wanted to delve into classics because I found that characters in the classics I read last year communicated and processed their thoughts similarly to our modern communication. Although they used English differently, their concerns, excitements, and pursuits were remarkably similar. If someone already found answers to questions hundreds or even thousands of years ago, wouldn’t you rather absorb those answers from the pages of a book and save yourself some time and effort?

I’m also selective about long books. If I’m going to invest over 30 hours in a novel, it must be worth it. To me, “worth it” means not only having a quality story, characters, and themes but also timeless content. For reference, I’ve read only one and a half Game of Thrones novels, and I feel satisfied. It’s an epic story, but I’m not entirely convinced it’s worth the time commitment for what you gain from it.

I didn’t just want to be entertained; I wanted to embark on a timeless journey, learn new things, and grapple with different concepts from a different perspective. I wanted to impress myself, even just a little.

Knowing that “The Brothers Karamazov” is a long and challenging book, I didn’t want to dive into its 822 pages without a plan. I opted for the audio/visual approach, listening to the audiobook while reading a physical copy simultaneously. This allowed me to immerse myself deeper into the story and forced me to stay focused, preventing my mind from wandering.

The book is divided into 12 books and an epilogue, originally released one book at a time, almost like a 19th-century Russian TV series. After completing each book, I paused to take notes and also consulted a helpful YouTube series that discussed major moments and thematic material in each book, ensuring I picked up on all the important details and stayed connected to the larger narrative as well as the finer points.

Now, I don’t intend to dissect this novel extensively; there are probably entire books written about it. Instead, I’d like to highlight some of the aspects that I found particularly thought-provoking:

• None of the characters are portrayed as purely good or evil, making them feel exceptionally real. Even the most unlikeable characters have moments that evoke empathy or provoke thought. “He’s out of line, but he’s right”
• The initial books of the novel introduce two father figures, inviting both the Brothers and readers to consider which father figure they might model their own lives after. Spoiler alert: When both father figures pass away, the characters around them realize that they can no longer blame their actions on the fathers they emulated or tried to escape. It’s a profound realization of personal responsibility.
• The philosophical brother’s argument against God’s nature and existence is rooted in his revulsion towards the suffering of children. This makes him a relatable character as he describes the heinous crimes against children he has witnessed or knows about, illustrating how such evil can turn a heart cold to the idea of a benevolent God.
• Analytical characters are not ridiculed for their lack of belief in God, and characters who believe in God and haven’t asked enough questions are not portrayed as foolish. Each character has a relatable or sympathetic motive for their beliefs; it’s their actions that are scrutinized as good or bad.

After reading about 200 pages, dedicating several hours to it, I realized I had embarked on a challenging journey. While I thoroughly enjoyed the book, my attention span began to wane. Still, making it to 200 pages before my attention faltered represented improvement compared to previous years.

I now understood that what I was reading was valuable and beneficial and little bit fun, even though my brain wanted the next shiny distraction or to rack up a higher number of books read. If I had realized this in high school, perhaps I would have made it to college.

So while I may not have been able to discipline myself for my own benefit way back then, I sure could now. After those first couple days I pretty well stopped reading anything else, which at the moment is strange because I typically have 2–3 books going on at once. I made myself take the notes at the end of books and reviewed previous notes going foward. I took time to pause and think about the weightier questions of the novel. I kept my head down and stuck with it…

…and after 8 days total it was done.

Now that doesn’t sound like a long time, but I felt like I was weathering a Russian winter through those 8 days as my brain wanted to jump to any other possible distraction, not because I didn’t like the book, but because it was difficult and not super flashy, and at the end of the day it wouldn’t really be that impressive to anybody. The external reasons had melted away, and it had to become something to complete for me.

I knew if I spread it out over a long period of time I wasn’t going to absorb everything, that’s why I hit it so hard. I wanted to “get” the story. I wanted to understand the subtext and themes. I wanted to feel the full weight of this classic…and I was able to.

Now, I’m not going to become a Lit Bro that exclusively reads the longest, weightiest novels I can find from now on because of how deeply Dostoyevsky changed me or anything. I can’t deny the impact Dostoyevsky had on me. In fact, immediately after completing “The Brothers Karamazov,” I breezed through two 150-page James Bond novels just to read something easy and quick. However, Dostoyevsky’s work, like any great timeless art, pushed me to work harder, self-examine, question my motives, and emerge from the experience changed.

And I’m not complaining about it.