Notes from Underground
Male and Female Archetypes in Eugene Onegin and Notes From Underground
An Analysis of Male and Female Archetypes in Russian Realist Works Eugene Onegin and Notes from Underground
The literary realist movement blossomed towards the middle of the nineteenth century following the decline of the intense emotions of Romanticism. In general terms, the realist movement focused on depicting subjects in a manner that was true to reality. Realism in Western Europe focused on the truthful representation of the reality of the middle class. This social depiction of ordinary life was thought of as “inductive, observational, and, hence, objective” (Lawall 511). The realist movement centered on the middle class lifestyle was strongest in Germany, France, England, and Italy. However, Realism differed in the boundaries of the Russian Empire under the Tsar. Due to Russia’s Imperialist monarchy at the time, a middle class was relatively nonexistent in the empire. Additionally, Russia also fell behind on relevancy in Europe as the country was seen as backwards both technologically and ideologically. As a result, Russian Realism focused more on the reformation of towards more Western ideals through both political and social commentary. Russian realist literature often contained the archetypes of a superfluous man and a strong, grounded female. A superfluous man is often defined as “an ineffectual aristocrat at odds with society…dreamy, useless…incapable of action…idealist…who fails to act…because of personal weakness” (Chances 112). Alexander Pushkin’s Eugene Onegin and Fyodor Dostoevsky’s Notes from Underground, depict relationships between a dissatisfied, superfluous male lead and a willful, grounded female foil by providing these characters with both very similar and different characteristics.
Eugene Onegin by Alexander Pushkin, a novel written in verse, is a classic example of Russian realist literature. The novel was partly written while Pushkin was exiled by the Tsar during the Decembrist uprisings. Pushkin’s novel focuses on a male protagonist, Eugene Onegin, and a female foil, Tatiana. Eugene Onegin is portrayed as a bored, cynically, and superficial man who comes from Russia nobility. On the other hand, his counterpart Tatiana is quiet, strong, and grounded country girl turned aristocratic society’s centerpiece. The presence of these two characters exemplifies a common literary theme in Russian Realism of the superfluous man and spirited female. Notes from Underground by Fyodor Dostoevsky, published nearly thirty years after Eugene Onegin, is a novel that is written as memoirs from a diary of a cynical, nihilistic hermit. The hermit, referred to as the Underground Man, fulfills the role of the Russian superfluous man. The strong female in Notes from Underground is Liza, a willful yet innocent prostitute who endeavors to support the Underground Man even as he attempts to manipulate and toy with her. Both Eugene Onegin and Notes from Underground portray the male protagonist as the superfluous man. The male protagonists of both novels have similarities that create a common “superfluous man” and differences in characteristics that set the characters apart.
In Eugene Onegin, a defining characteristic that sets Eugene apart from the Underground Man is his shallowness. Only 26 years old, Eugene Onegin is described as a “youth with charm and mind” of many talents which included the ability to “express himself and write, dance the mazurka, treading light, and bow in manner unaffected” (Pushkin 8). This very early description of Eugene Onegin creates the image of an individual born into wealth that is talented and is knowledgeable about aristocratic etiquette. Eugene also immerses himself in the superficial lifestyle of operas and parties that he attends only to be recognized when he is “dreadfully dissatisfied…with all the finery and faces” at the same time (Pushkin 15). Additionally, the lengthy description of Eugene’s obsessive manicuring and fashion sense further contribute to his portrayal as a superfluous man. Eugene “was most careful about his dress” and “at least three hours he spent preparing in front of mirrors” (Pushkin 17). Eugene’s pointless and superficial lifestyle point to a character that fits into societal norms out of boredom and conformity yet chooses to privately disregard them at the same time out of spite. Pushkin’s representation of Eugene as a fake individual who overtly cares about his appearance demonstrates his egotism that compensates for a lack of true personality. This is a trait of the literary superfluous man.
The Underground Man on the other hand does not attend petty gatherings, nor is he part of the aristocracy like Eugene. In fact, the Underground Man completely alienates himself from the superficiality of Russia upper class society. Dostoevsky chooses to make the Underground Man a weak superfluous man in a different way than Pushkin. Unlike Eugene, the Underground Man is merely a retired lowly civil servant who has no distinguishable skills. He is neither born into wealth nor does he live a lavish style. The Underground Man occupies a tiny apartment that “is nasty, squalid, [and] on the outskirts” of St. Petersburg (Dostoevsky 549). While the typical Russian superfluous man is an aristocrat, Dostoevsky immediately places the Underground Man in a position of poverty. By making the Underground Man a poor man who only “worked in order to have something to eat (but only for that reason),” Dostoevsky makes the character superficially weak due to his lack of wealth and enjoyment of life. In addition, while Eugene obsessively takes care of his appearance and is involved in society the Underground Man rarely leaves his apartment and is a recluse. His reclusiveness further establishes him as a superfluous man in that he disregards social values.
Regardless of their differences, both Eugene Onegin and the Underground Man fulfill the archetype of the Russian superfluous man through some similar ways. Both Eugene and the Underground Man tend to have no distinguishable and solid personality. Eugene’s superficial characteristics feed into the notion that he has no true personality. His obsession over how others perceive him demonstrate that he requires the attention of others to have some form of self-importance. Eugene’s ultimate show of weakness surfaces when Tatiana scours through his library. She finds numerous books with different male protagonists in which fingernail and pencil marks revealed that “[Eugene’s] soul was by such signs…expounded whether by cross, by succinct word, or question mark” (Pushkin 153). This revelation by Tatiana shows Eugene’s deception of not only the public, but his deception of himself. A combination of Eugene’s shallow characteristics and his life based on a combination of fictional characters ultimately demonstrate Eugene’s existential crisis. His boredom and lack of meaning in life lead him to become weak through deception, fulfilling the role of a superfluous man. The Underground Man’s boredom and reclusiveness cause him to follow a similar path of creating a fluctuating personality based on literary protagonists. His boring life and childhood as an orphan result in the Underground Man’s nihilistic outlook on life, causing him to adopt the thoughts of writers such as Gogol as his own (Dostoevsky 565). Both characters also attempt to compensate for their weaknesses by asserting dominance over others through supposed higher intelligence. Eugene is a man who “learned the skill of feigning, of seeming jealous, hiding hope, inspiring faith…appearing somber and to mope” along with other “talent[s] for appearing novel” such as flattery and manipulation (Pushkin 11). Eugene’s deception of others serves only to entertain him and give him satisfaction. At other times, his elevated sense of righteousness is fatal, shown when he kills Lensky in a duel. Eugene’s lack of empathy for his fellow man further brings out his weakness as a superfluous man. Similarly, the Underground Man uses his sense of power from his supposedly superior intelligence to fuel his rare interactions with others. The Underground Man chooses to causes conflict and distress in his interactions with people such as Zverkov who is regarded as “a cunning fellow and expert on good manners” and the good-hearted Liza who is content and sees through the Underground Man’s façade of intelligence. Both Eugene’s and the Underground Man’s lack of empathy and elevated sense of righteousness demonstrate personal weakness and fulfill the archetype of the superfluous man.
The portrayal of a strong, grounded female foil is often more streamlined. Both Tatiana in Eugene Onegin and Liza in Notes from Underground share more similarities that establish them as strong female leads than differences. The relationships between the superfluous male and strong female also culminate in the male realizing his mistakes. While Tatiana is portrayed as a hopeless, weak romantic in the first half of Eugene Onegin, she transforms into a strong female lead later in the novel in Moscow. Tatiana is the opposite of Eugene. She is a country girl who is truly passionate, willful, and genuine. Pushkin reveals Tatiana’s moral strength when Eugene encounters her as a princess. When Eugene tries to tempt her into abandoning her husband and coming back to him, she stands her ground and tells Eugene to “leave me now…I love you, but I am someone else’s wife, to him I shall be true for life” (Pushkin 195). Tatiana shows her enduring honesty to both her husband and Eugene. Although she still cares for him and goes as far as saying he has an honest heart, she refuses to go back to him because she is married and respects societal norms. Her actions are noble and demonstrate her ability to stand her ground. Finally, Tatiana forces Eugene to see his own deception when she points out he only wants her for superficial reasons because she is “wealthy and renowned” and it would “feed the flames of tittle-tattle and win [him]…seductive notoriety” (Pushkin 193). As she tells him to leave, Eugene finally realizes how meaningless his life has been and how his stubbornness and superficiality cost him happiness and love. The relationship between Eugene and Tatiana is also symbolic in that Eugene is a “parody of a type…Onegin is emblematic of the foreign, which Pushkin, through Tatiana rejects” (Busch 450). Additionally, Tatiana represents “a thoroughly Russian and authorial moral ideal” (Busch 450). By having Tatiana reject Eugene and show him his true colors, Pushkin fulfills a common facet of Russian realism by having the strong female lead (traditional Russia) trump the superfluous male (foreign influence).
Similarly, Liza the prostitute is able to see through the Underground Man and attempt to reach out through him. Liza is everything he is not: caring, willful, good-hearted, and a heroine. While he continues to abuse her and attempt to take his pent up dissatisfaction and anger out on her, Liza attempts to show him caring and love. Even after his tirade when Liza visits the Underground Man a second time, she “threw herself at [him], put her arms around [his] neck…knelt down, embraced [him] and remained motionless” (Dostoevsky 592). However, since the Underground Man’s elevated sense of self-importance and hatred was stronger than his empathy he continued to abuse and hurt Liza. In his final act of cruelty, he forces a “crumpled blue five-ruble note” into her hand to remind Liza of her perceived lower social status as a prostitute (Dostoevsky 594). Liza’s final act in Notes from Underground solidifies her undying strength as she throws his “payment” on the table. Liza appropriately has the strength to respond to the Underground Man’s lack of respect for other people. Her act of strength is also a final veiled act of kindness in which the Underground Man is forced to accept how vile his actions were.
As Russian realist works, Eugene Onegin and Notes from Underground contain a superfluous male protagonist who exudes weakness and a grounded female foil who is strong and willful. Both the superficial, aristocratic Eugene Onegin and the poor, reclusive Underground Man share traits of weakness. These include a lack of empathy, inflated ego and intelligence, indistinguishable personalities, and a disregard of societal norms. The female leads are foils to the male characters and cause a reevaluation of the male protagonist. On a deeper level of understanding, the male protagonists of the two novels represent a new, foreign Russia who are brought back to their senses by the females who represent the traditional motherland. Even now, the issues brought up by 19th century Russian realism continue to arise as the question of “Should Russia continue to westernize?” is relevant to international politics.
Notes From Underground by Fyodor Dostoevsky: Novel Analysis
Fyodor Dostoevsky’s Notes From Underground is not only a hallmark of 19th century Russian literature, but also a literary embodiment of several philosophical ideals that are still discussed today. The novel is divided into two central parts, Underground and Apropos of the Wet Snow. Underground is an existentialist exploration of the consciousness and mentality of an unknown narrator. This narrator, often referred to as the Underground Man, represents a revolutionary type of protagonist in Russian literature. While previous texts have portrayed their respective protagonists as concerned with social conditions, Dostoevsky’s character is primarily focused on the meaning of his own existence and whether he has any sort of value or potential. This model explains why many historians have considered Notes from Underground to be one of the first truly existentialist texts. Apropos of the Wet Snow serves to take the ideas set forth by the narrator in Underground and demonstrate them through actual events that the narrator goes through. What this accomplishes is that it reduces the highly complex philosophies of Underground into relatable and understandable terms.
Thesis: These two sections are connected by the consciousness of the narrator, and this further speaks on Dostoevsky’s style of writing.
Dostoevsky’s Underground provides the foundation for the stories told in Apropos of the Wet Snow. Told in the first person, this narrator pens a work analogous to a collection of diary entries in which he elaborates on not only his views of the world, but also his views of himself. From the introduction, the narrator appears disgruntled and bitter, yet it would be incorrect to limit him to this definition. He is a complex individual, demonstrated when he explains “It was not only that I could not become spiteful, I did not know how to become anything: neither spiteful nor kind, neither a rascal nor an honest man, neither a hero nor an insect” (210). What this reveals about the narrator is that his personality is a compilation of contradictory qualities that ultimately result in the absence of a concrete identity. Personally, this definition seems like an adequate reflection of people in general. It would be safe to assume that Dostoevsky painted his narrator in this way in order to exemplify a certain reality about human behavior. Unlike previous protagonists who were defined by certain traits, Dostoevsky’s narrator struggles with the fact that he does not embody a defined personality. This struggle is relatable, as we now consider the difficulty of defining ourselves to be both a realistic and expected aspect of life. The fact that Dostoevsky realized this concept and applied it to a mid-19th century work exhibits his revolutionary thinking. The author was clearly a critic of other writers that strived to establish their characters as ones that adhere to a confined set of characteristics. Through the narrator in this text, Dostoevsky creates an accurate portrayal of the existentialist battle that all of us fight on a daily basis.
Dostoevsky’s Apropos of the Wet Snow takes the psychological nuances of the Underground Man that were explored in Underground and applies them practically through various narratives. This second part of Notes from Underground can actually be seen as three separate tales joined together by the Underground Man’s consciousness. The first story describes the narrator’s encounter with an indifferent officer, the second story describes the character’s interaction with his former classmates, and the last story illustrates the Underground Man’s communication with Liza, a prostitute. As Dostoevsky navigates from one narrative to the next, the Underground Man increasingly struggles with his own reality. Therefore, these tales can be considered distinct stages of a complex psychological digression for the narrator. For example, the first story accentuates the Underground Man’s confusion and surprise in response to the officer’s failure to acknowledge his presence. The second story explores this idea even further, as the narrator’s schoolmates are aware of his existence, yet continuously exclude him from group activities, as represented by the group’s decision to visit a brothel without informing the narrator. The narrator desires to be accepted by his classmates as he believes this acceptance would serve as affirmation of a satisfactory reality that has previously eluded the character. This is confirmed in the episode where the Underground Man chases after the group, muttering “So this is it, this is it at last- contact with real life…” (274). Finally, the plot of the third story ultimately estranges the Underground Man from himself, resulting in an existential crisis that leads to the demise of his relationship with Liza. What this suggests is that Dostoevsky purposely chose this narrative-based outline to emphasize the growing internal conflict of the Underground Man. This further reflects on the calculated and meticulous style of Dostoevsky’s writing, and sets it apart from previous works that were less strategic and deliberate.
Action vs Inaction in Fyodor Dostoyevsky’s Notes from Underground
Action versus Inaction in Notes From Underground
In Notes From Underground by Fyodor Dostoyevsky, the narrator, the Underground Man (UM), compares the “man of action” to the self-conscious intellectual. UM, a self-proclaimed ultra-conscious intellectual, characterizes the mentally superior individuals by identifying his own personal traits. The “man of action” is the antithesis of the intellectual; they are the average person, possessing ordinary mental capabilities and levels of consciousness. According to UM, while the “man of action” makes decisions and is an active participant in life, the intellectual is far too self-aware to make choices that cannot be justified; and since no choice can actually be justified, the conscious man makes no decisions at all. The Underground Man examines, in both ironic and straightforward ways, the theoretical issue of action versus inaction and how consciousness ties into this concept, while simultaneously failing to realize that choosing to remain static is still qualifies as making a choice.
Throughout Part I of the novella, UM emphasizes that being conscious is an illness, yet is an illness that he would not want to live without. He knows that being less self-aware would make his life easier, but he enjoys the pain that his mental superiority inflicts upon him. At times he is envious of the simple life of the average men, but still notes the stupidity of these individuals. UM says to his readers, “I swear, gentlemen, that to be too conscious is an illness – a real thorough-going illness. For man’s everyday needs, it would have been quite enough to have the ordinary human consciousness, that is, half or a quarter of the amount which falls to the lot of a cultivated man of our unhappy nineteenth century… It would have been quite enough, for instance, to have the consciousness by which all so-called direct persons and men of action live.” In the social climate of nineteenth century St. Petersburg, an average level self-awareness and consciousness would be adequate for UM. He would be able to grow and make decisions, however, he would have to surrender his intellectual superiority and become one of the average men, which is something he is unwilling to do. When comparing the average man to the intellectual, UM states, “And I am the more persuaded of that suspicion, if one can call it so, by the fact that if you take, for instance, the antithesis of the normal man, that is, the man of acute consciousness, who has come, of course, not out of the lap of nature but out of a retort.” He feels that the self-conscious intellectual is the universe’s response to the average man. The typical man takes action without thinking; the overly-conscious individual thinks without taking action.
Within Part I, UM describes himself as a man of great intellect and inaction. He makes it clear that these two traits work hand in hand. People of mental acuity are not people who are able to easily make decisions; they are too doubtful of themselves to do so. UM states, “Oh, gentlemen, perhaps I really regard myself as an intelligent man only because throughout my entire life I’ve never been able to start or finish anything.” He knows he is perceptive because of the pattern of inaction throughout his life. UM sites his inertia as proof of his mental capabilities. Being too self-aware leads one to be unable to make decisions because they spend too much of their time thinking about the outcomes of possible action. Regarding UM’s inertia, he proclaims, “And the worst of it was, and the root of it all, that it was all in accord with the normal fundamental laws of over-acute consciousness, and with the inertia that was the direct result of those laws, and that consequently one was not only unable to change but could do absolutely nothing.” It is easier to be confident in one’s decision when they are less conscious. Intellectuals spend their time trying to justify their actions, and since they also know that no action can truly be justified, they choose to be stagnant.
In Part II of the novella, the audience sees how UM’s life reflects the ideas he theorizes about in Part I. The concept of action versus inaction manifests itself in UM’s life story, especially in his brief relationship with Liza. When UM meets Liza and learns about her circumstances, he expresses his desire to save her from her unfortunate life. After his first encounter with Liza UM says, “I even sometimes began dreaming, and rather sweetly: I, for instance, became the salvation of Liza, simply through her coming to me and my talking to her …. I develop her, educate her.” He imagines what it would be like to be Liza’s savior and what being loved by someone would feel like. UM believes that his intellect and words alone can uplift her and force her to become completely devoted to him. In UM’s relationship with Liza, the audience sees how his life mirrors the idea of inaction versus action that is discussed in Part I. Although he spends much of his time fantasizing about what his future with Liza could be like, when the chance for him to sweep her off her feet arises, UM does not take advantage of the situation. Liza storms out of UM’s apartment when he offends her and instead of chasing after her and attempting to correct the situation, he hesitates and spends the rest of his life focusing on his failures. UM says, “So I dreamed as I sat at home that evening, almost dead with the pain in my soul. Never had I endured such suffering and remorse, yet could there have been the faintest doubt when I ran out from my lodging that I should turn back half-way?” Losing Liza causes him to be in so much emotional pain, yet he does not doubt that he made the right choice by not chasing after her. He is not a “man of action” and will never be the hero; he can only ever be the man who occupies all his time dreaming about being the hero.
Although UM thoroughly examines the contrast between action and inaction and reflects upon how this concept manifests itself in his life, he ironically fails to acknowledge that choosing to not take action is still making a choice. UM’s claim that the self-conscious intellectual spends more time thinking about action than participating in life has validity; yet the notion that not choosing to take action qualifies as not making a choice is unsound. He says that an intellectual knows that no act can be justified, therefore they take no action.
This retort-made man is sometimes so nonplussed in the presence of his antithesis that with all his exaggerated consciousness he genuinely thinks of himself as a mouse and not a man. The base and nasty desire to vent that spite on its assailant rankles perhaps even more nastily in it than in l’homme de la nature et de la vérité . For through his innate stupidity the latter looks upon his revenge as justice pure and simple; while in consequence of his acute consciousness the mouse does not believe in the justice of it. (5)
Only person lacking consciousness could act without thinking. However, since taking no action results in an effect in the same way being active does, they are still making a choice that has consequences. This is demonstrated through Liza and UM’s relationship. When Liza runs off and UM does not follow after her, he claims that he is refusing to make a choice and take action. “Why? To fall down before her, to sob with remorse, to kiss her feet, to entreat her forgiveness! I longed for that, my whole breast was being rent to pieces, and never, never shall I recall that minute with indifference. But–what for? I thought. Should I not begin to hate her, perhaps, even tomorrow, just because I had kissed her feet today?” By going home instead of trying to apologize to her, he is making the active decision to give up on her.
In Notes From Underground, through the perspective of the nineteenth century intellectual, Fyodor Dostoyevsky presents the theoretical issue of the “man of action” in comparison to the ultra-conscious individual. This idea is expressed through the reflections of UM’s life and is shown in both ironic and straight-forward ways. The complexity of the concept is shown by the paradoxical nature of choosing to not make a choice.
Contrast Analysis of the Main Heroes of Notes from Underground and Diary of a Madman
Sample Student Paper on Lu Xun and Dostoyevsky’s Madmen
Matters and issues of the mind have both intrigued and puzzled writers for about as long as people have been writing. Some such writers have explored the inner workings of the mind of the madman, finding this type of character to be the most effective way to express a philosophical view. Two of these writers include Fyodor Dostoyevsky and Lu Xun. Their nameless protagonists from their stories Notes from Underground and “Diary of a Madman,” respectively, display apparent signs of mental illness through the various things that both characters do and say. Beyond this, evidence regarding their “madness” is further reinforced by the use of literary techniques, such as perspective and syntax, as well as its relationship to some of the central themes of the works. From, as well as for, these various reasons, the forms of madness can be observed as a compulsion to over-analyze in the case of the Underground Man and as paranoia in the case of the Madman, as both originating from their respective obsessions.
However, while it is clear that both characters display a kind of mental illness, the two could hardly be more different; Dostoyevsky’s “Underground man,” for example, suffers from such an acute consciousness that he naturally analyzes even the most mundane of occurrences. This leads not only to the confusion commonly associated with this extent of awareness, but also to several overthought conclusions, which are contradictory to the commonsense view. As an example, the first sentence describes him as a, “sick man … a spiteful man,” but only two paragraphs later, he claims, “I could never really become spiteful” (707-708). These types of contradictions cause readers to feel the same agony as the narrator as they attempt to make sense of words whose coherence can only be understood by the man who wrote them. He even formulated a way to derive a type of enjoyment from pain and refused to seek help for his supposedly diseased liver in an attempt to spite the doctors, which not only confirms his overanalytical thought process, but also is likely to serve as a justification for what can best be described as self-pity. It is also possible that he has developed depression through being locked away in his “underground.” In fact, he describes how this condition developed throughout his childhood from his innate lack of emotion to the torment he faced against his unwanted thoughts, helpless to his mind’s obsessions, until he finally was forced to give in to them rather than fight to no end against them.
Rather than an over-stimulated sense of consciousness, the obsessions apparent in Lu Xun’s “Madman” cause him to exhibit many of the symptoms of several forms of psychosis, including paranoia, hallucinations, and eccentric shifts in behavior. For example, he accuses the Zhao family’s dog of giving him, “dirty looks,” and is convinced that those who he passes as he walks down the street give him similar looks (1238). He believes that they whisper and gossip about him, and this drives him to approach a group of children, who he accuses of doing the same thing, and shouts, “Tell me, tell me!” until they decide to flee (1239). He experiences hallucinations as well, such as the, “ghastly crew of people, with their green faces and protruding fangs,” who appear, causing an episode which prompts an acquaintance of his, Old Fifth Chen, to lock him away (1239). In addition, his initial reasoning for the supposed looks he was being given was not at all related to cannibalism, but rather to an incident which occurred twenty years ago in which he, “trampled the account books kept by Mr. Antiquity” (1239). It was not until he heard the story of the cannibalism in Wolf Club Village that he developed incredible anxiety regarding the topic. This instance not only provides evidence for the ease at which he was made paranoid, but it also illustrates the amount which he fabricates, unintentionally, to justify his own suspicions.
Beyond the symptoms which both narrators must endure, the overall disorders from which they stem, or are intensified by in the case of the Underground Man, stem, themselves, from an obsessive manner of thinking. This is evidenced by his reaction to a certain officer who, “would simply trample over people,” as he walked, which proved as evidence, for the Underground Man, that he unrightfully thought himself superior (736). This sense of insecurity from the perspective of the Underground Man was derived from his idea regarding, “spontaneous,” or stupid, people (711). Such people are so as a result of a significant lack of consciousness; they, according to the Underground Man, whole-heartedly believe something without truly analyzing it in all of its complexities and, comforted by the lack of thinking necessary to do this, are driven arrogant by it. This, “spontaneous,” officer would walk through the same street every day, and so, the Underground Man followed this path, initially hoping to enjoy the humiliation it brought, which is already overthought enough, but every time, he jumped out of the way (711). To most, this would have been a perfectly normal, and even intelligent, reaction, but the Underground Man would wake at, “three in the morning,” worrying about this occurrence (736). The Underground Man can be observed to have a predisposition toward acute awareness, which, itself, predisposes him to obsessions, like the one evidenced, that, in turn, intensifies the pain and confusion consistent with this disorder. He resolved to continue straight on his path and bump into the man, which is a perfectly average, even slightly annoying, experience for most. The Underground Man, however, thought so highly of such an action that he suspected great fame as a result and purchased new clothing for it. From this anecdote, the obsessive nature of the Underground Man, as well as its debilitating effects, is expressed, leading the reader further into his madness.
Lu Xun’s Madman also displays obsessions, and, as consistent with several forms of madness, they make up the various reasons for it. This assertion is primarily reinforced by his reaction to the story of cannibalism that was explained by the tenant farmer from Wolf Club Village. Without any proof, he reflects this instance upon the people who he claims were talking about him and giving him strange looks. He writes, “Those people are cannibals!” with, “a shiver running from the top of (his) head,” as obvious expressions of his increasing fear, expressing the extent of his irrational anxiety (1240). It does not stop at emotions, though, but rather, they compel him to research ancient cannibalism at an unhealthy level until it consumes his life, and everything he hears and sees is interpreted as cannibalistic. He even remembers a conversation had had with his elder brother when they were younger as he was teaching him about the classics in which Elder Brother said, “it was all right to exchange children and eat them.” This is certainly a strange thing to say, but, considering the context of the text, and that he was likely conceding to the fact that it was a classic, this is hardly conclusive evidence of cannibalism. He also confuses stories as he confronts his brother about cannibalism as he references the story of Yi Ya boiling his son, and claims that it is evidence that, “people have always practiced cannibalism,” when in reality, this was a singular occurrence mentioned in the Guan Zi, a philosophical text. He even admits that cannibalism was not even mentioned in most of the books he read in saying that, “between the lines…the whole volume was filled with a single phrase: EAT PEOPLE!” (1240). Just based from this, not only can it be seen that he was discarding evidence, seeing only further evidence for his obsession on cannibalism, but also that this factor was inflamed by his resulting lack of clarity of mind. The reason for this, of course beginning from his own predispositions, was triggered by such an unrelated story. These patterns of obsessing over such irrelevant topics to the point of significant distress, as displayed by both characters, can be read as apparent signs of madness.
Their disorders, however while real and lifelike they would have appeared on their own, were reinforced and strengthened by the individual styles utilized by both authors, such as perspective, as well as diction and syntax. Both chose the first-person point of view, Dostoyevsky in the form of “notes” and Lu Xun as a “diary.” This technique, as used in Notes from Underground, for example, allows Dostoyevsky to utilize a very passionate and erratic voice. His repetition of the phrases, “organ stop,” and, “two times two makes four,” allows the Underground Man to appear almost manic as he overthinks the issues of his day (721, 713). The Madman, much like the Underground Man, consistently uses exclamations, such as when he says, “They were trying to kill me,” (1246) as if he were actually reliving the horrific hallucination. This adds to the effects which he displays that are coherent with paranoia. Lu Xun’s manipulation of colloquial language, as opposed to that of Dostoyevsky, causes his narrator to appear even more frantic than he would otherwise. He says, in a serious of short, seemingly unrelated sentence fragments, “Pitch black out. Can’t tell if it’s day or night. The Zhao family dog is barking again,” displaying disorganized patterns of speech in an informal way, even for conversational standards. He also crafts a naive and seemingly ignorant dialect for the Madman so that the reader must piece together his incoherent speech, though he truly has no idea what is taking place. Such is the case when Old Fifth Chen locks him in the study; the narrator is clueless as to why, and, without careful scrutiny, so will be the reader. In direct contradiction to this, the more complicated language of the Underground Man creates the same effect, while allowing for the use of seemingly senseless, over-thought metaphors and ideas which must be deciphered, such as, “two times two makes four,” (713). By writing in the first-person and utilizing a bold choice of erratic diction and syntax, the authors, through the voices of their respective protagonists, are able to attempt, “solving life’s problems by means of a logical tangle,” (728). In other words, they are able to utilize a frantic voice in order to express complex ideas in all their details through the usage of the madman.
Beyond this, their selection of their specific type of mentally disturbed protagonists would prove as the best means by which the central themes of the two respectively may be expressed. On an individual level, the Underground Man discusses the advantages and the disadvantages of consciousness, arriving at the conclusion that, “being overly conscious (is) a disease,” yet encourages his audience, which he claims will never exist, reducing his work to random mumblings of a bitter old man, to think (710). This, however, is a contradiction, but it is a perfect metaphor for humankind; through this method, the underground man embodies all of humanity. He does so by expressing the contradictory nature of mankind and how humans are able to create thing which they, themselves are hopeless to understand. The Madman, however, is a mentally ill person in society, and as a result, part of his lesson regarding the old system is that it has no room for madmen. In fact, when he returned to his home, “all the people there pretended not to know (him),” (1239). It seemed as though the only one who legitimately cared for his well-being was his elder brother, who taught him the classics and who he accused of being a cannibal as he defended him from the laughter of the town, saying, “Get out of here! All of you! What’s so funny about a madman?” (1245). The mental illnesses assigned to the characters of the Underground Man and the Madman prove to be an effective means of expressing the consciousness and contradictions of humankind as well as the role of madmen in society, respectively. As a result, the small-scale themes of the two stories would best be interpreted from the words of madmen.
On a larger scale, however, both protagonists express unrest regarding their current political system. Dostoyevsky expresses obvious concern for the transformation of society during, “our negative age,” from one of love and humanity to a mechanical one of science and math, while Lu Xun criticizes the blind following of tradition. In this way, they satirize the philosophies of the time by juxtaposing them with those of madmen, the title of “madman” itself even being ironic, in that each narrator believes himself to be one which holds the ideas to save a generation and perhaps future ones. “Save the children,” pleas the Madman in the last words of his journal, arguing against the idea of passing tradition down to your children before they have a chance to think for themselves simply because, “it’s always been like this,” (1246, 1245). The underground man reasons that if society is reduced to, “two times two makes four,” or the mechanical laws of science, all will lose that emotion and desire which makes them human (713). Any system which does not account for individuals and human nature will fail. Beyond being ironic and satirical, these narrators express a minority view, and through the ways the express such views through their barely intelligible speech, the mouths of a madman are the most likely origins of these words.
Through careful analysis of Fyodor Dostoyevsky’s Underground Man and Lu Xun’s Madman, the protagonists of their respective stories, Notes from Underground and “Diary of a Madman,” they can both be identified as “mad,” meant here as mentally ill in some form. While their illnesses are different in nature, they both show signs of obsessions regarding simple facts, and suffer obvious torment as a result of it. The Underground Man proves to be overly conscious to the point at which he realizes that anything he says or does can be contradicted, reducing himself to nothing but, “a sick man…a spiteful man,” (707). The Madman, however, felt an overwhelming sense of irrational anxiety, which he finally justified in assigning it to cannibalism, resulting in even more anxiety and “madness.” They were both vividly presented in the first-person point of view, with the syntax and diction of a madman, further reinforcing this assertion. The reasons which they were chosen to be presented as mad, though, support this conclusion all on their own. The harsh criticism of tradition presented by the Madman and the various insults formulated by the Underground Man against the reduction of society to a purely mathematical and scientific positioning of people are directly coherent with the supposed words of a stereotypical madman. This serves to sarcastically present their ideas as the minority views they are while satirizing the ideological institutions of their times. Most importantly, the actions of the two characters, allow the authors not only to express their ideas in a relevant way, but also to explore the mysterious thing used every day, but seen by none, the complicated human mind.
Dostoevsky’s Notes from Underground
Fyodor Dostoevsky is one of the most influential authors in world literature. This Russian author had written several remarkable novels including Crime and Punishment, The Idiot and Brothers Karamazov. However, before the aforementioned novels were published, Dostoevsky had already gained critical acclaim and recognition for his work entitled Notes from Underground. This novel explores how the freedom of man is undermined by the atmosphere of rationality that dominated the 17th and 18th centuries.
Through the novel’s protagonist, the Underground Man, Dostoevsky illustrates how real freedom is manifested in the defiance of reason.
The period called the Enlightenment occurred throughout the 17th and 18th centuries (Marder, Meyer, & Wyshak, n.
d. ). During this time, reason governed over every endeavor, and was valued above everything else. The period left no room for superstition or foolishness; rationality reigned supreme (Marder, Meyer, & Wyshak, n. d. ). Reason was the means in which man and society can develop for the better.
European thought was dominated by materialism, liberalism and more importantly, utopianism (Marder, Meyer, & Wyshak, n. d. ). All of these movements were established on the belief that reasonable and natural-law theories could establish a perfect society (Emerson, 1992). Perfection was only attainable through the application of reason and the manifestation of “enlightened self-interest” (Marder, Meyer, & Wyshak, n. d. ). The prevalence of reason strongly influenced and inspired Dostoevsky to write Notes from Underground (Marder, Meyer, & Wyshak, n. d. ).
However, the novel did not convey a message agreeable to the intellectual milieu; instead, it served to criticize its very existence. Notes from Underground is actually a response to another text, entitled What Is to be Done? (Marder, Meyer, & Wyshak, n. d. ; Madden, n. d. ). It was written by N. G. Chernyshevsky and was published in 1863. Chernyshevsky was an advocate of “rational egoism,” a movement which fervently believed that perfection of life could be achieved through rationality and enlightenment (Madden, n. d. ). The “rational egoists” also upheld principles of natural law (Madden, n.
d. ). Dostoevsky disagreed with the belief that rationality and enlightenment were the keys to perfection. He strongly believed that the nature of man was beyond those two elements. He acknowledged man’s capacity for both the rational and the foolish; he even upheld that the irrationality of man was more definite, while the rationality was merely added (Marder, Meyer, & Wyshak, n. d. ). Moreover, Dostoevsky was convinced that laws of nature or the principles of reason were not capable of recognizing human individuality, personality, and more importantly, free will (Madden, n. d. ).
These beliefs are embedded in the novel, a text which Rozanov considers a critique of reason as a means to perfection (as cited in Marder, Meyer, & Wyshak, n. d. ). The novel, in the words of Wasiolek, showed how man can be both rational and irrational, as his actions are the result of the exercise of his own freedom (as cited in Marder, Meyer, & Wyshak, n. d. ). Hence, the theme of freedom in the novel is the utmost disregard for reason and natural laws. The protagonist of the novel is the Underground Man, a forty year old man who used to work in civil service (Dostoevsky, 1992).
For a protagonist, he is considered an “anti-hero” (Madden, n. d. ). He is also the antithesis of the time in which he lived; he disagreed with utilitarianism, which prevailed during the 19th century. Utilitarianism was characterized by utilizing “mathematical formulas and logical proofs” to equate one’s wants with his best interests (Madden, n. d. ). The Underground Man disagrees with this; he attests that man wants to exercise his freedom and could do so regardless if it agrees with his best interests or not. If it is man’s desire to act irrational, he could. Of course, acting irrational is not in anyone’s best interest.
However, by being irrational, he was truly able to exercise his freedom. Actions based on desires, instead of reason, enable man to be free. Freedom is thus associated with acting without reason. So in an era where reason dominated, the Underground Man was rather unreasonable. By being unreasonable, he was able to be truly free. In the novel, the Underground Man asserts that science deprives one of freedom. Dostoevsky (1992) writes, “Science has managed by now to anatomize man to such a degree that we already know that all your wishing, your so-called free will is nothing…” (p.
29). The Underground Man then begins his attack on utilitarianism: If someday they should really discover the formula for all our whims and wishes—I mean, what causes them, what laws they’re governed by, how they develop and where they lead in one case or another…in other words, an actual mathematical formula—why, then man will perhaps immediately stop wishing…Who wants to wish according to graphs (Dostoevsky, 1992, p. 29)? “Whims and wishes” in this quotation refers to the desires of man. The principles of utilitarianism are marked by analysis of people’s desires.
These desires undergo scrutiny, as to determine if these desires agree with what is best for the people. However, the act of wishing does not involve analysis or scrutiny. One can desire something for no apparent reason. One may wish for something that may prove harmful in the long run. The exercise of freedom is spontaneous and non-regulated. If one has to base his or her desires from the graphs or formulas of science and math, they would no longer fall under the exercise of freedom. If one is to desire based on the graphs or formulas, it would not be an act of freedom any more.
This is because there is imposition involved; the desires are imposed upon by the requirements of science or math. In this situation, the desires of man are dictated by the principles of reason. Thus, freedom disappears upon the use of reason. In the words of the Underground Man, “For if desires are one day brought into complete accord with reason, then we shall reason instead of wishing” (Dostoevsky, 1992, p. 30). The Underground Man continues his argument against utilitarianism by differentiating reason and desires. He states:
You see, gentlemen, reason is unquestionably a fine thing, but reason is no more than reason, and it gives fulfillment only to a man’s reasoning capacity, while desires are a manifestation of the whole of life—I mean the whole of human life, both with its reason and with all its itches and scratches (Dostoevsky, 1992, p. 31). In this quotation, the Underground Man affirms that while reason is important, it is not the most important thing. The desires of man, through which freedom can be exercised, have a much wider scope than reason. Therefore, the desires of man cannot be reduced to graphs and tables because it transcends them.
The Underground Man uses the piano key as a symbol of how reason curbs man’s freedom: He will insist on clinging precisely to his own fantastic dreams, his most vulgar folly, solely in order to confirm himself… that men are still men, and not piano keys, which may be played by the hands of natural laws themselves, but which are threatened by this very playing to be brought to a state where it will no longer be possible to wish a thing outside of graphs and schedules (Dostoevsky, 1992, p. 34). Piano keys are pressed to make a sound in the process of playing the piano.
These keys cannot produce sound on their own; they need to be touched and pressed. The analogy between the man and the piano key is what Dostoevsky used to illustrate his point. By measuring man’s desires with the graphs and formulas to determine whether or not it is in their best interests, man becomes a piano key. This is because man comes under the mercy of reason which plays him. To be manipulated by reason is to be bound by its laws; therefore, it is not freedom. The Underground Man believes that humankind values freedom over reason and best interests (Madden, n. d. ).
Freedom means acting out of one’s desires or wishes whether or not the act spoken of is irrational or foolish. In the book, the Underground Man manifests his freedom through several examples. He had committed acts contrary to reason, making him a truly free individual. Hence, the Underground Man was successful in escaping the realm of reason he despises. The book starts with the Underground Man’s admission of a pain. He says, “I think that my liver hurts” (Dostoevsky, 1992, p. 1). Anyone who experiences pain will surely resort to measures to eliminate that pain. This is because pain is suffering, and nobody wants to suffer.
In the instance that pain is felt, it is only reasonable that one seeks medical assistance by visiting a doctor. On the contrary, the Underground Man says, “No, sir, I refuse to see a doctor out of spite” (Dostoevsky, 1992, p. 1). This decision is obviously irrational, because he does not want to see a doctor to deal with the pain. In addition, he does not have a valid reason not to go to the doctor. One would presume that he simply takes pleasure in his own pain. A rational man would find this decision as preposterous, as no one ever enjoyed suffering from pain (Madden, n. d.
). However, what appears to be a manifestation of masochistic tendencies is actually the Underground Man’s exercise of freedom. Reason dictates that when one feels pain, that person should visit the doctor. As was earlier discussed, the Underground Man believes that reason limits freedom, because it only acknowledges the desires that would be in one’s best interests. The tolerance of pain and the derivation of pleasure from it is the Underground Man’s way of breaking free from reason. Surely, it is a foolish thing to do, but he does not want to conform to the dictates of reason.
He values his freedom, so he refuses to act according to reason. He is a free man; he could do as he pleased. Even if it is contrary to his best interests in prolonging such agony, he still does it because he wished to do so. By tolerating pain and deriving pleasure from it, he successful avoids the system of reason. According to the Underground Man, “I know better than anyone else that I will only harm myself by this, and no one else. And yet, if I don’t seek a cure, it is out of spite. My liver hurts? Good, let it hurt still more” (Dostoevsky, 1992, p. 2)!
The Underground Man proceeds with his painful endeavor, this time with a toothache. The fourth chapter of the book opens with his laughter: “Ha-ha-ha! You will find pleasure in a toothache next! And why not? There is pleasure in a toothache ache too” (Dostoevsky, 1992, p. 14). Just like with the liver ache, the Underground Man allows himself to feel the pain of his tooth instead of seeing a dentist. He welcomes the pain, and refuses to seek treatment. A critic of the novel, Mikhaylovsky declares that the Underground Man “tortures because he wants to, he likes torture.
There is neither reason nor purpose here, and, in the opinion of Dostoevksy, they are not at all necessary, for absolute cruelty is interesting” (as cited in Marder, Meyer, & Wyshak, n. d. ). Indeed, this is true. The Underground Man does not subject himself to pain for a reason. In fact, he does so to do away with reason. He refrains from seeking medical treatment because he wants to. By indulging in his desire, he exercises complete freedom. Aside from the aforementioned tolerance of pains, the Underground Man had exercised his freedom through irrationality in other ways. He states:
I would feel a certain hidden, morbid, nasty little pleasure in the acute awareness that I had once again committed something vile that day, that what had been done could no longer be undone; and I would gnaw and gnaw at myself in silence…until the bitterness would finally begin to turn into a kind of shameful, damnable sweetness (Dostoevsky, 1992, p. 7). In this excerpt, the Underground Man expresses how he had realized his evil ways by contemplating what he had done. However, instead of wallowing in guilt, the realization ends up being a source of pleasure. How did the Underground Man manifest his freedom through this?
The purveyors of rationality would insist that those who know what is in their best interests would not resort to baseness or frivolity. The Underground Man was aware of vileness of his actions; in a way, he was aware it was not in his best interests. However, he did not feel a sense of guilt. The realization of his action that started with bitterness eventually became that of sweetness. He knew what he had done was bad, but this does not change the fact that he derived pleasure from it. His reaction to such vile deeds set him apart from what reason dictates as proper.
Because he did not follow the dictates of reason, he had exercised his own freedom through defiance. Reason makes one feel burdened when one commits a nasty or vile action. It supposes that rational ways should be observed, and a nasty or vile action is never rational. He sights an example when one is forced to apologize for a nasty deed. The Underground Man says: Generally, I could never endure saying, “Forgive me, Papa, I won’t do it again”—and not because I was incapable of saying it, but, on the contrary, perhaps precisely because I was all too capable of it.
And how I did it (Dostoevsky, 1992, p. 16)! In this passage, the Underground Man expressed disagreement with repentance. He believes that one should not apologize for doing something. He finds apologies as deceiving; the claim to never do an act considered vile again seems insincere. In our freedom, we are all capable of doing these acts. Regardless if they are rational or irrational, we all have the capacity to act according to our own free will. The claim “I won’t do it again” is quite fraudulent, as it is quite understood that anyone can do anything, according to their free will.
Thus, it is possible for one to exercise freedom and desire something which is not in one’s best interest. According to the Underground Man: And what if his advantage on a given occasion not only may, but must, lie exactly in choosing for himself the harmful rather than the advantageous? And if this is so, if there can be such an occasion, then the entire rule is shattered to smithereens (Dostoevsky, 1992, p. 22). The rule spoken of here is the belief that man would choose what is in his best interests. Again, the exercise of freedom lies in choosing or desiring something regardless of their nature.
In the above quotation, the Underground Man affirms that there will be instances wherein man will choose what is harmful, instead of what is useful, to him. The moment such situation arises, the principle of reason will be disproved. The Underground Man does not believe in the principle that man will act according to what is in his best interests. Neither does he believe that man’s desires can be reduced to graphs of science nor formulas of mathematics. The concept of freedom for the Underground Man is that which is contrary to the dictates of reason.
He does not acknowledge that man will commit acts that are in tune with his best interests. This would be a violation of his freedom, as the freedom presupposes one’s capacity for both the rational and the irrational. If one chooses to commit an irrational act, he is merely exercising his freedom. Did the Underground Man succeed in escaping the realm of reason he so despised? The answer is yes. His tolerance of pain and derivation of pleasure from suffering were direct defiance to reason. He had rendered himself completely liberated from the atmosphere of rationality.
He did and thought as he pleased, whether or not it was in his best interests. Indeed, he had escaped, and is completely free. REFERENCES Dostoevsky, F. (1992). Notes from Underground (M. Ginsburg, Trans. ). New York: Bantam. (Original work published in 1864). Madden, C. (n. d. ). SparkNote on Notes from Underground. Retrieved March 29, 2008, from http://www. sparknotes. com/lit/underground/ Marder, J. , Meyer, M. , & Wyshak, F. (n. d. ). Dostoevsky’s Notes from Underground Study Guide. Retrieved March 29, 2008, from http://community. middlebury. edu/~beyer/courses/previous/ru351/novels/UGMan/ugman. html
Adverse Advantage: An analysis of the Underground Man’s ideas
Armed with a view that strongly opposes the ideas presented by rational egoism, Fyodor Dostoevsky conducts an all-out assault against the theory in his 1864 novella, Notes from Underground. The narrator is a sick, pessimistic man who remains nameless throughout the course of his ranting. Without any recognizable respect for his own health and well being out of pure spite, he is the perfect character to illustrate Dostoevsky’s argument against the theory of rational egoism. The narrator decides upon actions that may directly oppose his true interests for the sole reason of proving that he is an unpredictable man who enjoys his own free will and ability to make voluntary decisions of his own, without being restrained by the ideas of rationality and reason.A particular advantage is revealed in the narrator’s philosophical ranting that describes man’s ability to decide to act in an unpredictable manner. The narrator challenges the definition of advantage, saying, “What is advantage? Will you take it upon yourself to define with absolute precision what constitutes man’s advantage?” (Dostoevsky 15), and continues by introducing his idea of an overlooked advantage that is so important that all the other advantages rely upon it. He describes this masochistic advantage, questioning “And what if it turns out that man’s advantage sometimes not only may, but even must in certain circumstances, consist precisely in his desiring something harmful to himself instead of something advantageous?” (15). This abnormal advantage refers to an individual’s freedom, the ability to choose, when given multiple options, a detrimental course of action over a more favorable option with the intention that one may demonstrate their free will, in order to express that they are unpredictable and refuse to be easily categorized and stereotyped by others. The common, clichÃ©d desires such as prosperity, wealth, freedom, and peace (15) cannot possibly describe the complex needs of the human mind, and if there was a way to study desires in such a complex method, it would severely limit the feeling of free will and personality that an individual possesses, as the narrator states:”Well, after all, what if someday they really do discover the formula for all our desires and whims, that is, the thing that governs them, precise laws that produce them, how exactly they’re applied, where they lead in each and every case, and so on and so forth, that is, the genuine mathematical formula-why, then all at once man might stop desiring, yes, indeed, he probably would. Who would want to desire according to some table?” (19)When physiological science starts to break down what affects the human condition, people lose their feeling of freedom, and will act in any self-destructive way in order to preserve what free will they have left. Speaking on this subject, the narrator claims that “If you say one can also calculate all this according to a table, this chaos and darkness, these curses, so that the mere possibility of calculating it all in advance would stop everything and that reason alone would prevail-in that case man would go insane deliberately in order not to have reason, but to have his own way!” (22). The mathematic properties that have been set as law are restraining people’s free will, and people will go crazy just to retain it. The narrator describes this in his two times two analogy, “But gentlemen, what sort of free choice will there be when it comes down to tables and arithmetic, when all that’s left is two times two makes four? Two times two makes four even without my will. Is that what you call free choice?” (23).In order to demonstrate his discretion and unpredictable nature, the narrator suddenly bewilders his audience by announcing that what he stated before had been nothing more than a poor attempt at a joke. He states, “Gentlemen, I’m joking of course, and I myself know that it’s not a very good joke; but, after all, you can’t take everything as a joke” (23). It is not known exactly how much information he had been joking about, possibly the two previous chapters, four chapters, or the entire work. It can even be speculated that the narrator was never actually joking, but isn’t confident enough to admit to the claims that he has made. Either way, his shot at humor, though hard to understand, humanizes him; and it exhibits yet another contradicting statement.The narrator leads into another confusing announcement when he proclaims “Why, here’s what would be better: if I myself were to believe even a fraction of everything I’ve written. I swear to you, gentlemen, that I don’t believe one word, not one little word of all that I’ve scribbled. That is, I do believe it, perhaps, but at the very same time, I don’t know why, I feel and suspect that I’m lying like a trooper.” (27). By combining this with the previously mentioned joke statement, and assuming that both statements are meant literally, they create a double negative, canceling each other out. This reverses everything that he has claimed. Why would he do this? Would this be no more than another example of the “advantage” he previously described? Is this his self- sabotaging method of being unpredictable? Without jumping to conclusions, a following passage illustrates how the narrator believes a reader might react to his writings. In it, he includes, from a reader’s perspective, “There’s some truth in you, too, but no chastity; out of the pettiest vanity you bring your truth out into the open, into the marketplace, and you shame it… You really want to say something, but you conceal your final word out of fear because you lack the resolve to utter it; you have only cowardly impudence” (27). By now, the narrator may seem that he is cowardly in coming out and saying exactly what he wants to, and instead dances around it by distracting his audience with statements to detract from the serious nature of his arguments, and the reader’s response only furthers that theory. Through this interpretation, the previous areas where the narrator proclaims that he is either joking or lying are rendered meaningless. So why would he include statements to intentionally mislead the reader? For no other reason than to demonstrate his free will. All that he writes are his, and only his, writings and he is free to do whatever he pleases with them. If he wants to deliberately include passages that contradict what he has already stated, he may do so. This freedom he shows in his writing is directly related to his idea of the free will advantage that he deems so important. Obviously, just the fact that the narrator includes such a response to his writing within his argument proves this to be correct.There is a popular phrase that states “The ends justify the means”, an excuse used often by individuals whose motives may be questioned. Through his method of writing, the narrator renders this phrase ineffective, while raising a question of the phrase itself. Why do the means even have to be justified at all? The narrator shows that he can decide upon actions that may oppose his interests to prove that he is an unpredictable man with a free will and ability to make voluntary decisions of his own, without the need to justify them with reason.————————————————Works CitedDostoevsky, Fyodor. Notes From Underground. New York: Norton, 1989.
Characters’ Internal Struggles in Dostoevsky’s Notes From Underground
The most gripping aspect of Fyodor Dostoevsky’s writing is his characters’ compelling internal struggle. No matter how shocking or far-fetched his characters’ struggles may first appear, one quickly discerns that these struggles are precisely those with which we all continually grapple. Dostoevsky’s depiction of these struggles, however, are taken to the extreme, making them initially appear incomprehensible. The Underground Man himself is a metaphor for one who is suffering from a hyperconscious state of mind who endures a vicious circle of logical to illogical thinking. He vacillates between being a superior thinker to being as insignificant and invisible as a creeping insect. As noted in class, Plutarch writes that “You are a God only insofar as you recognize yourself as a man”. This reinforces society’s general conception that one who lives as a bookworm comprehends nothing about real life. Likewise, some people hold that one who experiences life actively but has no book knowledge is missing out on the finer (that is, intellectual/philosophical) things of life. Therefore, as Plutarch and Dostoevsky suggest, one must live amongst one’s fellow man and have healthy interaction with others as a prerequisite for gaining any ground toward self-transcendence or ‘godliness’. The Underground Man delves into the question of how much control each individual has over his/her freedom, including freedom of choice. Victor Frankl maintains that freedom is a choice that can be cultivated; correspondingly Davis postulates that radical reflexivity can ensure the fruition of personal self-enlightenment and emancipation. Along this same line of thinking, the Underground Man alludes to the fact that there is an important purpose to his taking up pen and paper: “…Why, why exactly do I wish to write? If it’s not for the public, then wouldn’t it be possible to remember it all in my head without transferring it to paper?” (Dostoevsky, 39). His persistent questioning points to the possibility that he does have a desire to change, to achieve moral understanding through having healthy human relationships. Taylor believes “…that we can grasp our lives in a narrative” (Taylor, 47). He expounds further along this vein: “…Making sense of one’s life as a story is also, like orientation to the good, not an optional extra; that our lives exist also in this space of questions, which only a coherent narrative can answer. In order to have a sense of who we are, we have to have a notion of how we have become, and of where we are going” (Ibid.). According to this viewpoint, each person has the potential for personal growth, change and development. Most notably, each of us may choose to seek out this growth and development. If one chooses to live in isolated complacency and not seek out personal betterment, like the Underground Man, then that person will only ever know perpetual, cyclical stagnation. The Underground Man’s personality is paradoxical. On one hand, he feels a need to be a part of a positive social camaraderie, even to have love. At the same time he loathes others and strongly conveys that people, in general, are a waste of his time. The Underground Man relays a clear contrast of his own thinking pertaining to the power (or lack thereof) of love: “…When there is love, you can carry on living without happiness. Even in grief life is good, it’s good to be alive in the world however you live” (Dostoevsky, 88-9). In the very next breath, he continues to say “You and I…we came together…just now, and during all that time we didn’t exchange a single word, and afterwards you started looking at me like a [scared] wild animal; and I did the same to you. Is that really the way to love…it’s simply repugnant, that’s what” (Dostoevsky, 89). The Underground Man is oscillating between having faith and not having faith in the power of human relationships and/ love, unable to let himself fully trust in the goodness of others for fear of being disappointed beyond recovery. The ideas noted above point to the fact that a person cannot live with his/her head always in the clouds anymore than s/he can live a wholly unreflected life. This hypothesis is not new. In the Torah (Old Testament), for example, it is written that Jacob stood out as the best model for future generations. More than his father or grandfather before him, Jacob was able to maintain a strong sense of identity as well as an unfaltering faith in God and his fellow man. He was able to achieve this faith not only when living within his own community, but also when he lived as a stranger in an unfamiliar land as an advisor to the Pharaoh. Despite the fact that there are moments wherein the Underground Man is close to self-transcendence, as when his “…heart turned over” (Dostoevsky, 117) upon Liza’s offering him a generous, forgiving love without expecting reciprocation (in parallel to God’s love for mankind), he is not able to let himself love or be loved, falling back into his status quo. Even though the character of the Underground Man may seem unrealistically extreme, the paradoxes and internal wrestling he deals with are very similar to the conflicts that many of us take entire lifetimes to sort out. his same conflicting contrasts, paradoxes, and internal wrestling are those that many of us take a lifetime to sort out.
The Underground Fight against the System
The central characters in the film Fight Club and Dostoevsky’s novel Notes from Underground attempt to manage a serious psychological estrangement from society, each with a strategy that ultimately directs outward aggression inward. Fight Club’s nameless narrator suffers a kind of masochistic schizophrenia rooted in his total disdain for society, as it effectively deems him a “nobody”; Dostoevsky’s leading man – also nameless, also mentally afflicted – attacks society within the realm of his own person, taking pleasure in self-inflicted pain. The endless series of parallels between these two works eerily reinforces a shared theme, with each character a “nobody” crouched within an imposing universe of overly-extensive artificiality; the Underground Man must be a copy of the creator of Fight Club, who indeed resents most that he is “a copy of a copy of a copy.”Interestingly, Fight Club’s narrator oddly resembles Dostoevsky’s typical low-ranking civil servant; his disturbingly dry occupation – until he quits – mirrors the triviality to his obsessive accumulation of material things, none of which make evident anything substantial about his character. Not only does this narrator’s lack of individuality exist as the product of modern society’s structure, but the schizophrenic aggression he suffers is due to what seems to be a hyper-extension of his stifled individuality – screaming and kicking until it results in multiple aggressive “people” within the psyche of the narrator.It is undeniable that each of these men are utterly alienated, but what is most important is that, against all reason, it is each man that forcefully removes himself from the “reality” of society. The Underground Man spends a life’s length of suffering for anger and fear of the world outside. Similarly, the narrator’s self-imposed aggression in Fight Club can only be attributed to a woeful resentment of society’s values, and thus, a fear of drowning in impenetrable artificiality. This fear that simmers inside each man is not unfounded; Dostoevsky’s novel, together with Fight Club, makes the point that one’s reclusive nature in modern society results directly from the impossibility of integrating individuality into the systematized atmosphere of a metropolis. The parallel characters’ retreats from society represent both a seditious rejection of modern life and a fundamental human need for identity despite an environment run spiritually dry.If the cities that find each of these narrators can be considered comparable to one another, it can be said that the world depicted by Fight Club is a kind of St. Petersburg plummeted into the future. The Underground Man’s angst in the name of action, for identity, and for meaning is nonetheless timeless, but we find that Tyler Durden’s (and Edward Norton’s, etc.) struggle deals with problems that soar through philosophical dissention and into such concrete and immediate realities as mass consumerism, and, moreover, the nature of compliance imposed on us, and expected from us, by society through the ceaseless advertising of actions and thoughts that promote vast complacency with the baseness of modern living. Tyler Durden lives in the most inner point of the narrator’s intellect; unquestionably, he is an anarchist who’s “got it all figured out.” The idea which he, “Jack,” and the unnamed narrator devise, the perfect system, is one of complete chaos – the exact opposite of today’s organized, pre-packaged, airtight corporate world, for as far as the narrator has found it to be, his hard-earned valuables do nothing to solidify his existence as a person. Because the Underground Man is similarly seeking something above the safety of “the system,” and because his affinity for lofty ideals outweighs his need to live in accordance with day-to-day rigors, the shared theme of Notes from Underground and Fight Club actualizes the disturbance that the modern age causes in a human soul. The Underground Man and all the associates of “Jack” recognize modernity’s rhythmic threat on the vitality of the human spirit.Neither of these intensely psychological plots means to deal with violence or aggression per se, but rather focuses on resentment for society’s imminent threat on the person. This arguably suggests that modern egocentricism itself aggravates the desperation of a lost soul. The compulsive need to be what Dostoevsky calls a “man of action” shines forth in the monotonous motion of the urban, scheduled life. From birth, we are told that violence is wrong and fighting is not the way to solve problems. Fight Club and Notes from Underground are rare examinations of the truth of human nature: violence serves not as a means of solving problems, but as an aggressive method of “mayhem” for verifying one’s own existence. The works dare to portray violence not as life’s completely horrible or ugly reality, but as something that strangely purifies the soul of human subsistence.
The Underground Man and Freedom Beyond Reasons
In Dostoevsky’s Notes from Underground, the Underground Man proposes a radically different conception of free action from that of Kant. While Kant thinks that an agent is not acting freely unless he acts for some reason, the Underground Man seems to take the opposite stance: the only way to be truly autonomous is to reject this notion of freedom, and to affirm one’s right to act for no reason. I will argue that the Underground Man’s notion of freedom builds on Kant’s, in that it requires self-consciousness in decision-making. But he breaks from Kant when he makes the claim that acting for a reason is not enough, and only provides an illusion of freedom. When faced with the two options of deceiving himself about his freedom (like most men) or submitting to ìthe wall,î (a form of determinism), the Underground Man chooses an unlikely third option – a ‘retort’. I will conclude this paper by questioning whether this ‘retort’ succeeds at escaping the system of nature he desperately seeks to avoid.I will begin by explaining how the Underground Man’s argument builds on Kant’s notion of freedom. Throughout the work, the Underground Man speaks of consciousness. He claims that consciousness is an illness, and that most men are (thankfully) not fully conscious (10). This constant reference to consciousness is reminiscent of Kant’s notion of autonomous action. Kant believes that humans decide which actions to perform as a result of self-conscious reflection. That is, when they have a desire, they must first step back from that desire, examine possible courses of action, and then endorse the desire as worthy of satisfaction before they can act on it. If people acted without this type of reflection, then their actions would not really be free – freedom depends on conscious endorsement by the individual, a temporary removal from one’s immediate desires.So far, the Underground Man and Kant are in agreement. However, Kant believes that the endorsement of desires consists of having a reason to act on that desire, a reason based on what we perceive as some good. The type of good is unspecified – it could anything from the satisfaction of egoistic aims to the betterment of the human race. What is important is that we establish for ourselves what type of good on which to base our reasons. Free action is impossible unless we formulate our reasons independently; more specifically, we must decide for ourselves what is a good reason for acting. Although the Underground Man agrees that we must formulate our own reasons, he rejects the notion that reasons based on any concept of a perceived good can ever really be our own.This rejection of reasons as a basis for autonomy stems from his belief that freedom is virtually impossible in a largely deterministic and evolutionary universe, where everything is determined by the ‘laws of nature’ to which he constantly refers. The Underground Man believes that the feeling of freedom engendered by acting for a reason as opposed to acting blindly is an illusion. He says of men with limited consciousness that ìthey take immediate and secondary causes for primary ones, and in this way they are more quickly and easily convinced than others that they have discovered an indisputable basis for their activityî (19). In other words, these ‘men of action’ convince themselves that their choices are based on a higher faculty, on reasons they formulate independently (primary causes). However, their action is really based on causes determined externally, by their instincts, biology, etc. (immediate or secondary causes). If we had the intellectual capacity, all of human reason and desire could be predicted beforehand, ‘calculated on paperÖaccording to various laws of nature that man will never discover’ (28).He describes these men of action as those ‘arisen from the bosom of nature’ (13). The Underground Man believes that anything we perceive as ‘good’ was intended by nature for the preservation of the species, survival of the individual, or other natural aim. Thus, although we may feel that our reasons are a result of a higher faculty, this feeling is an illusion. Nature provides us with this illusion because, as individuals with higher consciousness, we do not want to realize that all our actions are determined by reasons beyond our specific existence. As the Underground Man describes it, ‘Man has been continually proving to himself that he’s a man and not an organ-stop’ (31). That is, man wants to believe that freedom is possible, that he is not just an instrument to preserve the species or to act as nature intended. However, most men have ‘limited consciousness,’ and easily succumb to the illusion of freedom – they do not examine their reasons sufficiently rigorously, and are quickly convinced that their reasons are their own. He often compares man to an animal: ìThis sort of gentleman heads straight for his target, like a maddened bull with his horns loweredÖî (13). Men of limited consciousness are able to convince themselves that reasons aim at some good beyond that intended by nature. This is how nature intended, because if men were to realize the futility of their action, they would be paralyzed. They would no longer act in a way that would preserve the species, and the species of man would die out – hence a higher level of consciousness is an ‘illness’.Such is the malady which consumes the Underground Man, who ‘has not arisen from the bosom of nature but from a retort’ (13). Having a higher level of consciousness, he sees that the ultimate causes of all reasons are external. As a result, he has two choices – he can deceive himself about his freedom like others do, or he can submit to the laws of nature and acknowledge that freedom is illusion. The first option is clearly impossible, as his heightened consciousness ‘succeeds in piling up around him so much additional disgust in the way of questions and doubtsÖthat he has willy-nilly gathered around himself some kind of fatal bog’ (14). However, he also refuses to submit to the laws of nature, to act unconsciously and respond immediately and unthinkingly to all desires or whims. Therefore, he makes a desperate attempt to exert his freedom in the only way he sees possible: by acting deliberately contrary to any reason which can be perceived as ‘good’. In doing so, he hopes to achieve the highest good, man’s ‘most advantageous advantage’: his individuality and autonomy (23).But what exactly does this activity consist of? How does the Underground Man frame this ‘retort’? He does not give many specific examples of truly free action, but defines it mainly as a negative concept. He views the retort as acting against anything he thinks nature intended – he takes any impulse which people most often avoid and attempts to gain pleasure from it (such as in the midst of a toothache, or by being humiliated). Thus, not only does he act contrary to nature, but he derives pleasure wherever it seems most improbable.But one must wonder whether this type of action is truly autonomous. In his very specific attempts to defy nature, his actions seem to have sole basis in the natural causes which he so despises. He reminds one of a jealous ex-lover who, in his attempts to prove his lack of interest in his old flame, deliberately flirts with other women in his ex-lover’s presence, gives her dirty looks, and refuses to return her calls. Similarly, the Underground Man tries to prove he is not subject to the laws of nature by acting deliberately and consciously against them. In neither case are we fooled: both examples reveal that the actor is still subject to what he seeks to avoid, insofar as all of his actions are determined by and dependant on the original factor.Thus, it is difficult to see how the Underground Man’s retort could be an example of autonomous action. He rejects the Kantian notion of autonomy because he does not believe that people really determine their own reasons. However, it seems that he is falling into the trap that he wants so desperately avoid: his reasons are still determined by something external to himself, i.e., the laws of nature. Although they might be a direct negation of these laws, the more directly negated they are, the more closely they are guided by them, because they are completely determined by them.The Underground Man may reply that, although he may not be acting completely autonomously, at least he is not passively succumbing to the laws of nature. He succeeds in that he is able to escape the system, and do something that is unprecedented, does not promote the survival himself, the human race, or anything nature intended. In this way he avoids the fate of others. In addition, although the bulk of his actions may not be free when framed as a ‘retort,’ at least some part of his action may be autonomous: the very decision and initial execution of his plan to defy nature, to refuse to accept reasons as the basis for action. This one act of defiance may succeed in allowing him to assert himself as more than a ‘piano stop.’However, it seems that the Underground Man does not succeed in his ultimate goal. If his decision to refuse to act in accord with nature really does represent his one instance of free action (which, of course, it may not – for example, it could be determined by nature that he is not fit to survive, so this decision would allow him to perish more quickly, which may even be better for him ultimately), it seems that he should commit suicide immediately after. Indeed, there is evidence throughout the text that he is keenly aware of the futility of his situation, and goes back and forth between supporting and mocking his own statements. His position is nicely summed up in the following statement, ìOf course, I won’t knock this wall down with my head if in the end I haven’t got the strength to do so, but I won’t submit to it simply because I’m up against a stone wall and haven’t got sufficient strengthî (15). And in the end, it seems that he really is just a man up against an enormous stone wall, but will spend his life banging his head against it until he collapses.
Notes from Underground and Sartre’s Philosophy: Existentialism Arisen from Conscious Inertia
On the surface, it appears that the Underground Man is no more than Dostoevsky’s attempt of a fascinating and contradictory refutation of Chernyshevsky’s proposal of rational egoism as a solution to an emerging hyperconscious culture. Fascinating in the sense that the Underground Man refuses to subscribe to the construction of the idealistic ‘crystal palace’ through his innate belief in free will, and contradictory in the sense that his own state of hyperconsciousness pushes him deeply into a place of what he describes as ‘conscious inertia,’ or a state of inaction- which is ironically what rational egoism exists to solve. The Underground Man, if without realizing it, exhibits many of the same traits as an existentialist, including a belief in some kind of inherent radical subjectivity that is bound to humanity, and refuting the notion that human reason can be reduced to pure mathematics, as he thinks that humans derive their essence through their actions. Yet his existentialist nature is stymied as he recognizes the futility of his position: he is trapped in ‘conscious inertia,’ which leads to what philosophers such as Sartre coin ‘despair.’ This status, which remains with him throughout both parts of the novel, emerged as a result of Dostoevsky creating his character to be a perversely extreme version of the hyperconscious being, one who fails to realize that his reality is shaped by his actions. His subconscious, however, yearns for the human contact and unity that Dostoevsky champions. Quite symbolically this desire manifests itself with the prostitute Liza, but no matter how hard his subconscious has a desire to connect, Dostoevsky engineered his warped existentialist nature to preclude any chance of human connection.
Part I of Notes from Underground best represents the existential nature of the narrator, which is perhaps most obvious through his refutation of Chernyshevsky’s rational egoism, a main tenet of which is the ‘crystal palace,’ described by the translators as ‘the ideal living space for the future utopian communist society.’ Its construction is incredibly offensive to the Underground Man, because he believes it robs not just himself but society of their free will by reducing their wants and desires to mere calculations. It is one of the main points of Chernychevsky that if only these calculations can be made known to us, they can surely enlighten humanity according to what brings us the most ‘profit,’ which typically converges with reason in order to improve our wellbeing or economic status. The Underground Man refutes this idea, claiming it is reductionist in nature, and he vehemently disagrees with it: “One’s own free and voluntary wanting, one’s own caprice, however wild, one’s own fancy, though chafed sometimes to the point of madness- all this is that same most profitable profit, the omitted ones which does not fit into any classification, and because of which all systems and theories are constantly blown to the devil” (Dostoevsky 25). The ‘most profitable’ profit, in his mind, is the simple ability for man to want and desire completely independently. He disregards any systems or theories that want to blatantly show or even compel man to do what is best for him, rational egoism being his (or Dostoevsky’s) main opponent. It should be stressed how especially important to the Underground Man that not only his but all of humanity’s’ desires are their own, any kind of external pressure or attempt to define profit is totally absent.
To the Underground Man, reason and rationality is so insignificant compared to free will that exercising one’s’ right to the latter is justified “even in the case when it is obviously harmful and contradicts the most sensible conclusions of our reason concerning profits – because in any event it preserves for us the chiefest and dearest thing, that is, our personality and our individuality” (29). To clarify this last thought, he is claiming that practicing our free will in any manner we wish preserves our essence as humans. This line of thinking echoes philosopher Sartre’s’ mantra of ‘existence precedes essence’ in his book Existentialism and Human Emotions: “Man is nothing else but what he makes of himself” (Sartre 15). If man is only what he makes of himself, he must be the sole determinant of his being and his essence- not some “average of statistical figures and scientifico-economic formulas” (Dostoevsky 21), which, according Dostoevsky, unfairly reduce and simplify human essence while creating a warped version of his harmonious utopian society, a dystopia that forces unity upon us, rather than allowing us to arrive there of our own free will. Regardless of the philosophical implications, nearly one thing is certain about The Underground Man after considering his attitude about the possibility of an external determinant in humans: he exhibits many of the same traits as Sartre’s existentialist, one who is extremely radical in his belief in free will. The Underground Man’s beliefs in free will are characterized quite obviously through the use of his many metaphors and his demena: “two times two is four,” the construction of the “crystal palace,” and even his disgust in classifying humans as “a sort of piano key or a sprig in an organ.” But his understanding of the radical responsibility that accompanies free will is definitely harder to find traces of because of the convoluted nature of his speech. Sartre extends his definition of existentialism by claiming: “…the man who involves himself and who realizes that he is not only the person he chooses to be, but also a lawmaker who is, at the same time, choosing all mankind as well as himself, cannot help escape the feeling of his total and deep responsibility.” He calls this feeling ‘anguish,’ and its description sounds awfully familiar in the context of Notes from Underground.
Through the entirety of Part I, even from the very first line, the Underground Man has been telling us that he is sick, that he is wicked, and that his sickness is derived from his hyperconsciousness. According to Sartre, his suffering is nothing more than the feeling of anguish, resulting from the realization of his deep responsibility not only for his own actions, which accompany his free will, but for his fellow man as well. This anguish results in conflicted, ambivalent feelings towards others who are not in the same hyperrational state he is. He envies them for their ability to act with such certainty, while simultaneously loathing them for their ignorance and insulting their intelligence. Consider how the Underground Man himself acknowledges the futility of action: “How to explain it? Here’s how: as a consequence of their narrow-mindedness, they take the most immediate and secondary causes for the primary ones, and thus become convinced more quickly and easily than others that they have found an indisputable basis for their doings, and so they feel at ease; and that, after all, is the main thing. For in order to begin to at, one must first be completely at ease, so that no more doubts remain” (Dostoevsky 17). Their narrow-mindedness allow them to take action, because they mistake inferior causes for being the primary one. But in the Underground Man’s radically subjective world, there can never be a truly primary cause that can motivate any action- it simply doesn’t exist. Rather, if it does exist, it would take an infinite amount of time to arrive at it.
In addition to just choosing the path most readily available and logical in the moment, one reason why most men aren’t hyperrational like the Underground Man is because they let their emotions distort their rationality and judgement, namely, their passion triumphs over their reason. This is a huge mistake according to Sartre, because it allows men to abstain from responsibility for their actions: “…he is responsible for everything he does. The existentialist does not believe in the power of passion. He will never agree that a sweeping passion is a ravaging torrent which leads a man to certain acts and is therefore an excuse” (Sartre 23). The Underground Man falls into yet another definition of the existentialist because he believes in blaming himself, or responsibility. He abstains from passion and emotion by remaining in his isolation in the underground, and he claims that his intelligence causes his utter and total responsibility for not only his actions, but for the actions that affect him, as with the case of the example of him being responsible for someone slapping him. He is masking his ‘anguish’ for the responsibility he feels as an existentialist by calling it a sickness and even going so far as to take pleasure from it. It’s clear that he’s proud of his status of hyperconsciousness even though he envies those without it; to him it’s both a blessing and a curse- in any event, it distinguishes him from others and makes him different. As a consequence of his hyperconsciousness, he is condemned to a life of inaction and passivity. Passivity develops into stillness, stillness leads to isolation, from isolation develops indifference, and as evident with the Ridiculous Man, indifference precedes apathy, which Dostoevsky connotes with death and sin. Of course, he agrees profoundly with the idea the Underground Man champions, which is clearly at this point free will, but his excess of consciousness still leads to his downfall, as we observe most obviously in Part II.
The Underground Man prides himself on his independence from others, but in reality he succumbs to societal pressure quite frequently. One instance of this is when he visits some old friends, and more or less invites himself to their going-away party: “‘Why twenty-one?’ I said, somewhat agitated, apparently even offended. ‘If you count me, it’s twenty-eight roubles, not twenty-one.’” (Dostoevsky 64). Offended at what? At having been forgotten. He feels entitled to being invited to a social gathering even though he despises the people who will be present – he describes their appearances with total loathing. This sense of some unrealized desire to actually have human connection with others climaxes the next night, when he arrives at a brothel and pays a prostitute, Liza, to sleep with him. One small interesting detail was the way he described the brothel itself: “During the day it was a shop; and in the evening those who had references could come and visit…In front of me stood a person with a stupid smile, the hostess herself, who knew me slightly” (86). The Underground Man has been here before, it is not his first time paying someone for sex, which in and of itself is symbolic of his subconscious yearning for any kind of human connectedness. However, his conscious inertia, his anguish, his despair, is developed enough at this point to prevent him from consciously acknowledging this yearning.
The Underground Man is feeling a spiritual pull to unite and connect with others, but attempting such a thing with a condition such as his is totally futile. Dostoevsky demonizes the conscious inertia that the Underground Man finds himself in, and without the realization that actions shape the reality around him, he can only struggle and sink deeper into the isolation that is the underground. Sartre addresses this problem beautifully, in a quote that encompasses the Underground Man’s fatal flaw: “A man is involved in life, leaves his impress on it, and outside of that there is nothing. To be sure, this may seem a harsh thought to someone whose life hasn’t been a success. But, on the other hand, it prompts people to understand that reality alone is what counts, that dreams, expectations, and hopes warrant no more to define a man as a disappointed dream, as miscarried hopes, as vain expectations” (Sartre 33). There is no reality without our actions, and so it follows that there is no reality in the Underground Man’s conscious inertia. He fails to understand that even though there might not be a primary cause for our actions, that humanity must act anyway. His desire for the interconnectedness that is Dostoevsky’s unity is a pointless one, one he will never reach because he fails to act. To conclude, the Underground Man exhibits many of the same traits as an existentialist, one who has a radical belief in the freedom of choice, even if it is detrimental one’s own health, economic status, or psychology. The act of rebelling against the laws of nature for the sake of doing so is highly respectable in his mind. This refutes Chernyshevsky’s idea of rational egoism, but along with radical freedoms comes responsibility not only for one’s own actions, but a responsibility for guiding the whole of humanity into a place shaped by those actions.
Anguish and despair are terms used by Sartre to describe the emotional reaction the Underground Man has upon having a realization of such a magnitude, and thus the existentialist plunges deep into uncertainty. How can one determine the primary, true cause of one’s actions when there is so much subjectivity in the world? Some, like the Underground Man, decide to opt out altogether, remaining perpetually ‘inert.’ However, Sartre maintains that regardless of the futility of rational action, it is vital to understand that our actions shape the world we live in, lest we delve into the same dilemma as the Underground Man.