Read Online The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoyevsky; Andrew R. MacAndrew - Free Book Online Page A
Tags: Fiction, Literary, General, Psychological, Romance, Historical, Classics, Literary Criticism, Family Life, Fathers and sons, Brothers, Russia, Didactic fiction, Brothers - Fiction, Russian & Former Soviet Union, Fathers and sons - Fiction, Russia - Social life and customs - 1533-1917 - Fiction
Ads: Link
institution survived, however, and it is now gradually becoming more common in Russian monasteries. It is also true, though, that this well-tested, thousand-year-old method of spiritual regeneration from slavery to freedom and moral perfection may prove to be a double-edged weapon, for some men, instead of gaining humility and ultimate self-mastery, may acquire the most satanic pride, so that they are fettered rather than free.
The elder, Zosima, was about sixty-five. He came from a family of landed gentry, and as a very young man he had been in the army, serving as an officer in the Caucasus. There was a special spiritual quality about him that must have struck Alyosha. For his part, the elder also grew very fond of the boy and allowed him to share his cell. It must be pointed out that, when he was living at the monastery, Alyosha was not yet bound by any vow, so that he could come and go as he pleased; indeed, he could stay away for days on end whenever he wished, and if he wore a cassock it was by his own choice, so as not to stand out among the others—though he obviously also liked wearing a cassock. It is also quite possible that Alyosha’s youthful imagination was greatly stirred by Zosima’s spiritual power and the fame that surrounded him. Many said of the elder that, in accepting all those who had come throughout the years to entrust their souls to him, to seek his guidance and solace, he had heard so many confessions, secrets, and tales of human despair that he had finally acquired an insight so keen that he could guess, from the very first glance at a newcomer, what he would say, what he would ask him, and even what was really tormenting his conscience. Often the visitor was surprised, confounded, and even frightened on finding that the elder knew his secret before he had even uttered a word. Alyosha also noticed that almost all who came to Zosima for the first time were filled with fear and apprehension as they entered the cell to face him alone, but that almost without exception they left smiling and serene; even the gloomiest faces emerged beaming with joy. Alyosha noted with particular interest that the elder Zosima was in no way severe, but, if anything, was always rather cheerful. The monks said that he was particularly warm toward the worst sinners and that the greater a man’s sins the greater was the elder’s love for him. Even toward the end of Zosima’s life, there were monks who hated and envied him, but there were fewer and fewer of them, and they kept their feelings to themselves, although some occupied important positions in the monastery. Such was one of the oldest monks, a man famous for the strictness of his fasts and for his long periods of silence. But without doubt the overwhelming majority of the monks were on Zosima’s side, and many of them loved him deeply and sincerely. Some were almost fanatically devoted to him and said, although not quite openly, that Zosima was a saint, that there could be no doubt about it. And, as his end was drawing near, they expected it to be followed almost at once by miracles that would shortly bring even greater glory to the monastery. Alyosha was one of those who had unquestioning faith in Zosima’s miraculous powers, as unquestioning as his acceptance of the story about the coffin that flew out of church by itself. He saw many who came with sick children or relatives to beg the elder to lay his hands on them and pray for them, and who returned, some the very next day, and, the tears running down their cheeks, prostrated themselves before the elder, thanking him for healing the sick. The question of whether this was miraculous healing or natural recovery never even occurred to Alyosha, for he had complete faith in the spiritual power of his teacher, whose glory he felt as his own personal triumph. He felt a special tremor in his heart and he radiated joy when the elder went out to the gates of the monastery to meet a group of humble folk who had
The elder, Zosima, was about sixty-five. He came from a family of landed gentry, and as a very young man he had been in the army, serving as an officer in the Caucasus. There was a special spiritual quality about him that must have struck Alyosha. For his part, the elder also grew very fond of the boy and allowed him to share his cell. It must be pointed out that, when he was living at the monastery, Alyosha was not yet bound by any vow, so that he could come and go as he pleased; indeed, he could stay away for days on end whenever he wished, and if he wore a cassock it was by his own choice, so as not to stand out among the others—though he obviously also liked wearing a cassock. It is also quite possible that Alyosha’s youthful imagination was greatly stirred by Zosima’s spiritual power and the fame that surrounded him. Many said of the elder that, in accepting all those who had come throughout the years to entrust their souls to him, to seek his guidance and solace, he had heard so many confessions, secrets, and tales of human despair that he had finally acquired an insight so keen that he could guess, from the very first glance at a newcomer, what he would say, what he would ask him, and even what was really tormenting his conscience. Often the visitor was surprised, confounded, and even frightened on finding that the elder knew his secret before he had even uttered a word. Alyosha also noticed that almost all who came to Zosima for the first time were filled with fear and apprehension as they entered the cell to face him alone, but that almost without exception they left smiling and serene; even the gloomiest faces emerged beaming with joy. Alyosha noted with particular interest that the elder Zosima was in no way severe, but, if anything, was always rather cheerful. The monks said that he was particularly warm toward the worst sinners and that the greater a man’s sins the greater was the elder’s love for him. Even toward the end of Zosima’s life, there were monks who hated and envied him, but there were fewer and fewer of them, and they kept their feelings to themselves, although some occupied important positions in the monastery. Such was one of the oldest monks, a man famous for the strictness of his fasts and for his long periods of silence. But without doubt the overwhelming majority of the monks were on Zosima’s side, and many of them loved him deeply and sincerely. Some were almost fanatically devoted to him and said, although not quite openly, that Zosima was a saint, that there could be no doubt about it. And, as his end was drawing near, they expected it to be followed almost at once by miracles that would shortly bring even greater glory to the monastery. Alyosha was one of those who had unquestioning faith in Zosima’s miraculous powers, as unquestioning as his acceptance of the story about the coffin that flew out of church by itself. He saw many who came with sick children or relatives to beg the elder to lay his hands on them and pray for them, and who returned, some the very next day, and, the tears running down their cheeks, prostrated themselves before the elder, thanking him for healing the sick. The question of whether this was miraculous healing or natural recovery never even occurred to Alyosha, for he had complete faith in the spiritual power of his teacher, whose glory he felt as his own personal triumph. He felt a special tremor in his heart and he radiated joy when the elder went out to the gates of the monastery to meet a group of humble folk who had
Similar Books
