On The Underground Man and The Grand Inquisitor

Dostoevsky states in The Underground Man, that man’s worst defect is perpetual immorality because it is irrational.  This could be interpreted to mean that man would be perfect if only he’d stop being irrational and immoral.  But I think a more meaningful interpretation is that man’s stumbling block is himself.  Our own nature is our living strength and fatal flaw, simultaneously. 

Parallels between Nietzsche and Dostoevsky strike me as odd because I can’t relate to Nietzsche, but I resonate strongly with Dostoevsky.  If I were at a party with them, I’d probably exchange awkward pleasantries with Nietzsche, then go stalk Dostoevsky all night long.  Something they have in common is that they speak through angsty, rebellious, prophetic protagonists in their writings.  Yet Nietzsche seems unintelligible and abrasive while Dostoevsky seems engaging and insightful.  Another commonality is that they both address a strong/weak, master/slave dynamic in their writings.  Most likely it is the manner in which they interpret these themes that affects my reception of them.  Whatever difficult, bitter topic they cover, their personalities impact their ideas.  Nietzsche clearly despises others, but Dostoevsky appreciates the irony and forgives.  It’s hard to relate to someone who’s cruel and easy to relate to someone who laughs.   I wonder what Nietzsche would think of Dostoevsky.  How would he peg him?  Maybe he would seek to explain his ideas and gain a peer relationship.  Or maybe he’d reject Dostoevsky as part of the herd.

Taking a theological detour in The Grand Inquisitor; the Cardinal said that to ask for a miracle is to lose faith in God, but to reject a miracle is to reject God.  That’s bad theology.  I realize Jesus quoted a section in the Bible where we’re instructed not to test God, but there are at least two sections where we’re invited to test God.  One is in Isaiah, when a king is on the brink of a war he can’t win.  He’s told to ask for some wondrous sign of God’s faithfulness (Isaiah 7:11) but he doesn’t ask, because he doesn’t trust God to carry him through the war.  That conclusion might seem like inference, but it’s evidenced by the king going to a neighboring ruler to ask for help instead.  The second place we’re invited to test God is in Psalms when the songwriter says to taste and see that the Lord is good.  The songwriter wants us to tell for ourselves and not take his word for it.  In general, testing is not opposite to faith (Romans 12:1-2, 1 Thessalonians 5:21).  My apologies, I keep coming back to theology in my commentaries—I just believe emphatically that if scripture is going to be mentioned and interpreted, then it should be interpreted accurately.       

Returning to a broader aspect of philosophy, I wanted to address the ethics of the Cardinal’s justification for the Catholic church’s rituals and regulations.  In short, he is not justified.  From an existentialist point of view, he’s unjustified because he’s usurping the individual responsibility of each “weak” congregant by smothering his or her ability to choose.  It’s a burden for every person.  Giving the burden to another person doesn’t absolve an individual of responsibility, it just changes the question to, “why did you trust this person?”  Every person does need a master.  Even non-religious people take their identities from a preferred, shared guiding mark or type (ex. ethnic, sport, interest affiliations).  Every person is a follower/subscriber, even if they don’t call themselves a slave.  Everyone seeks a master, but each person chooses their master freely.  The need for a master is precisely why the Cardinal was wrong to set himself up as the benefactor of the weak masses.  As a believing man, he should have known that every Christian ought to choose Christ as master (the whole “Lord” thing, and all).  It was poor caretaking to take over Christ’s place in the congregants’ hearts and to neglect to strengthen them in order to make that choice.  It was wrong for him to do that.