Poor Folk and Other Stories

So, following the amazing success of Crime and Punishment, I actually ended up electing a class entirely devoted to Dostoevsky this semester. A great deal of my motivation was the desire to acquire an excuse for reading The Brothers Karamazov and The Idiot. Both are on the syllabus, so I'm quite pleased. However, the first book I read cover to cover for the class was Poor Folk and Other Stories.

The title story is an epistolary novel following the correspondence between Makar Devushkin, a poor clerk, and Varvara Dobroselovna, a poor seamstress. Hence, "Poor Folk." The title echoes the famous "Poor Liza" of Karamzin, one of the original Russian prose works written in the 18th century. Let's just say that "Poor Liza" was a tragedy. Foreshadowing enough. The two main characters write back and forth not just about their terrible living conditions and the general plight of those in extreme poverty, but also about literature and love.

While there is a certain stiffness even in their banter, it can be explained away by the necessary propriety observed between an older, unmarried gentleman and a younger, unmarried woman. If you forgive that, and let yourself be absorbed by the tale, it can be quite moving. Compared to other tales of poverty (I'm thinking of The Jungle) it is one of happiness and glee, but standing on its own, it is heartbreaking. "Oh, my friend! Unhappiness is an infectious disease. Poor and unhappy people ought to steer clear of one another, so as not to catch a greater degree of infection" (70).

There is a great deal of wisdom inhabiting this short work of Dostoevsky. I feel it may be effective to merely share some of it in the form of quotations.

"Indeed, if everyone were to start being an author, who would do the copying?" (47)

"It can happen that one spends one's life not realizing that right at one's side there is a book in which one's entire life is set forth as if on the ends of one's fingers." (62)

"You take everything too much to heart; because of that, you will always be a most unhappy man." (85)

"Remember that poverty is not a sin." (92)

"What can't be cured must be endured." (100)

The next tale is a novella entitled "The Landlady" which follows a man named Ordynov through the throes of obsession and love. Wandering the streets of St. Petersburg he realizes how meaningless his life has been. "It had suddenly occurred to him that all his life he had been alone, that no one had ever loved him, and that he himself had succeeded in loving no one, either" (137). He drifts into a church, where he encounters a mysterious woman and man. He follows her back to her apartment and rents a room from her and her old companion. A significant element of mystery is derived from the unknown relationship between the old man and the young landlady.

It is a surreal story marked by dreams, fevers, and nightmares. Elements of interest include: the first appearance of a character who returns in the next tale, "Mr. Prokharchin," by the name of Yaroslav Ilyich--a police official, the overuse of the descriptor "white as a sheet," and the classic employment of Dostoevsky's own affliction--epilepsy--as a plot tool. Near the end of the work there is an interesting observation: "It is never pleasant when a stupid person, of whom we have been previously fond perhaps because of his very stupidity, suddenly acquires some wisdom, no, it is never pleasant" (212). It is an intriguing tale, if hardly my favorite.

On "Mr. Prokharchin" I will only remark that it foreshadows slightly the main ideological question of Crime and Punishment on page 240 and that it force-feeds the reader symbolism on page 247. "Polzunkov" is short enough that I don't feel the need to address it. It isn't that it is unpleasant, merely slight and unremarkable.

As a whole, the collection is a worthwhile read, but certainly not composed of Dostoevsky's best work. However, as a relic of his early writing, it is highly valuable to a complete understanding of him as an author. By reading it, you may begin to see common links throughout his works which make further reading that much more rewarding.

I will leave off with an assertion from "The Landlady": "A weak man cannot control himself on his own. Give him everything, and he'll come of his own accord and give it all back to you; give him half the world, just try it, and what do you think he'll do? He'll hide himself in your shoe immediately, that small will he make himself. Give a weak man freedom and he'll fetter it himself and give it back to you. A foolish heart has no use for freedom!" (208)

Sincerely,
Spencer Miles Kimball

(First blog of the new year)