Monday, February 23, 2009

In Ivan's poem, why does the prisoner remain silent throughout?

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Chris Groeger said...

By my count, we came up with at least 8 different interpretations of why the Christ character remains silent as the Grand Inquisitor unburdens himself, along with almost as many interpretations of the (nonverbal) statement that dramatically ends the conversation, namely the kiss. These include: (a) Ivan's own interpretation that in Catholic teaching "He may not add a single word to what He has said before," since He passed authority to the pope and/or it would mean depriving humans of their freedom of faith--the kiss was either an act of forgiveness or a rebuke; (b) the Christ figure was not actually Christ, but realized that silence might serve him well or even save his lief -- the kiss was an attempt to act in character; (c) Christ was letting the G.I. rant, but trying to break through his defenses by not contradicting him and radiating his love and forgiveness--the kiss is further evidence of this; (d) Dostoevsky felt it would be improper/blasphemous to put new words into the mouth of Christ; (e) Christ acted as therapist, creating a space in which the G.I. could unburden himself and perhaps work through his issues; (f) Christ recognized the truth of what the G.I. was saying, and sealed that acknowledgement with a kiss; (g) the silence is symbolic of Ivan's sense that God has abandoned the world He created and refuses to interfere even to prevent innocent suffering, which makes the kiss into another version of the Judas kiss, with Christ betraying humanity; (h) the G.I. is the prototype of a totalitarian ruler who simply silences those who disagree.

Wow! It's impressive that we could come up with all of these possibilities, but maybe what's really impressive is the text. In fact, I'm starting to think that maybe most great texts share that quality of generating many possible interpretations. Maybe this is just a truism: great books survive over time because people keep reading them in new ways depending on the historical context. Maybe that quality is just what makes literature professors and reading groups enjoy the texts, since they generate a lot of discussion. Maybe its just the fun of trying to "figure out" the text as if it were a detective story.

But I think there is something more fundamental going on. Maybe the appeal is at a deeper psychological or even spiritual level, rather than just at an intellectual one. I think there is some recognition that ambiguity, contradiction, shifting meanings, irony, are all deeply embedded in the our everyday world. We can't pin down exactly what our own feelings are, we keep (mis)understanding and (re)interpreting the actions of others around us, we can't settle on a single, monolithic, and logical way into which to force our experience of the world (At least I can't!). Ivan is an intellectual, yet he ties himself into contradictory knots at every step. He says he loves life but does not accept the world God created and hints at suicide; he first says not to worry about whether God exists or not, then says "I readily accept God" in the next sentence. His story of the Grand Inquisitor is shot through with contradictions or ironies: it starts with the statement that fifteen centuries have passed without a sign, fifteen centuries since his Prophet wrote "Behold, I come quickly"; the G.I. believes he is talking to Christ, and says he has switched allegiance to Satan, but is clearly an atheist, which is confirmed by Ivan at the end; the Christ figure, full of "infinite mercy" and concerned about humanity, arrives in Seville the day after a hundred heretics are burned in His name, but seems oblivious to their fate; Ivan says (in the previous chapter) that he would not accept the suffering of a single child even to guarantee the happiness and peace of the world, yet creates a tragic hero, the G.I., who constantly sacrifices some people for the good of the rest.

So maybe my point is that the power of a text like this lies in the way the ideas and symbols, contradictory as they are, reveal both the deeper psychology of the characters and the deeper mysteries of human experience, which don't have much to do with ideas or logic. Part of the power of Ivan's character is the way his intellect drives him into impossible psychological corners, which only his love of life can get him out of. One implication of this point of view would be that Dostoevsky is not trying to be a political philosopher in this text, and that the ideas--as fascinating as they are--might not be as important as what the characters do with them, and what that reveals about them as human beings (fictional, but "all too human"!).

February 25, 2009 at 2:43 PM

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