40 pages • 1 hour read
Fyodor DostoevskyA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
“I don’t consult a doctor for [my liver], and never have, though I have a respect for medicine and doctors. […] No, I refuse to consult a doctor from spite.”
Dostoevsky establishes the narrative voice and characterization of the Underground Man from the very beginning lines: He is contrary and knowingly acts against his own interests. The drive to act in a way that is not beneficial to oneself is the main area of psychological exploration in the novella.
“Yes, a man in the nineteenth century must and morally ought to be pre-eminently a characterless creature; a man of character, an active man is pre-eminently a limited creature. That is my conviction of forty years.”
The narrative is not only concerned with the character of the Underground Man but also with the nature of the typical educated man of 19th-century Russia. The Underground Man explains that being too conscious of the contradictions in the society in which one lives results in an inability to act, so it is better to act, rather than think.
“I got to the point of feeling a sort of secret abnormal, despicable enjoyment in returning home to my corner on some disgusting Petersburg night, acutely conscious that that day I had committed a loathsome action again, that what was done could never be undone, and secretly, inwardly gnawing, gnawing at myself for it, tearing and consuming myself till at last the bitterness turned into a sort of shameful accursed sweetness, and at last—into positive real enjoyment!”
The Underground Man exemplifies the paradox of taking pleasure in one’s own suffering and in perpetuating knowingly immoral behavior. At the same time, the narrator is not reliable because, despite his assertions that he enjoys his dissolute life, he is profoundly miserable and lonely.
“As soon as they prove to you, for instance, that you are descended from a monkey, then it is no use scowling, accept it for a fact. When they prove to you that in reality one drop of your own fat must be dearer to you than a hundred thousand of your fellow-creatures, and that this conclusion is the final solution of all so-called virtues and duties and all such prejudices and fancies, then you have just to accept it, there is no help for it, for twice two is a law of mathematics.”
The Underground Man argues that there is no such thing as enlightened self-interest that works for the good of society: All self-interest is a means of self-preservation at the expense of others rather than for their benefit. He takes the idea of mathematical certainty, which is part of the rational models of his day, and applies it to human beings’ irrational behavior.
“My jests, gentlemen, are of course in bad taste, jerky, involved, lacking self-confidence. But of course that is because I do not respect myself. Can a man of perception respect himself at all?”
“Another time, twice, in fact, I tried hard to be in love. I suffered, too, gentlemen, I assure you. In the depth of my heart there was no faith in my suffering, only a faint stir of mockery, but yet I did suffer, and in the real, orthodox way; I was jealous, beside myself...and it was all from ennui, gentlemen, all from ennui […].”
The narrator tries to engage in interpersonal relationships but is so disconnected that he can only mimic the stereotypes and descriptions of relationships he finds in books. He admits that he is incapable of feeling love, which might lead someone to really be jealous; his attempt at being in love is more of an intellectual exercise.
“I should live at ease, I should die with dignity, why, it is charming, perfectly charming! And what a good round belly I should have grown, what a treble chin I should have established, […], so that everyone would have said, looking at me: ‘Here is an asset! Here is something real and solid!’”
The Underground Man mocks people who lead a so-called good life that is dedicated to high cultural models but is really an excuse to engage in excess. He mocks both the people who live this way and those who reinforce the values of bourgeois life. Dostoevsky is always critical of wealth as fundamentally unethical; in his view, anyone who lives a comfortable life does so at the expense of others.
“What man wants is simply independent choice, whatever that independence may cost and wherever it may lead.”
One of the novella’s main themes is that having the choice to do something is more important to people than the outcome of that choice. Thus, in a utopian world, instead of living in harmony, people will make choices that purposely undermine their harmony and well-being as a means of maintaining an essential human trait—the right to choose freely.
“[T]his caprice of ours, may be in reality, […] more advantageous for us than anything else on earth, especially in certain cases. And in particular it may be more advantageous than any advantage even when it does us obvious harm, and contradicts the soundest conclusions of our reason concerning our advantage—for in any circumstances it preserves for us what is most precious and most important—that is, our personality, our individuality.”
The Underground Man argues that a utopian society built on rational ideals robs people of their individuality because people are defined by their flaws just as much as they are defined by their virtues. This is the philosophy on which the Underground Man’s character is based: He is essentially fully flawed. He leaves it to his readers to decide whether his tendency to self-sabotage is ultimately detrimental or whether it is possible for someone like him to lead a happy, fulfilling life.
“Man likes to make roads and to create, that is a fact beyond dispute. But why has he such a passionate love for destruction and chaos also?”
In an attempt to show how far civilization has progressed, educated people of the Underground Man’s day focus on achievements in the arts and sciences as evidence that they are evolving toward a more ideal society while ignoring the reality that people are made of contradictions. The Underground Man argues that creativity and destructiveness are both essential aspects of human nature.
“I will not accept as the crown of my desires a block of buildings with tenements for the poor on a lease of a thousand years, and perhaps with a sign-board of a dentist hanging out. Destroy my desires, eradicate my ideals, show me something better, and I will follow you.”
Modest social progress is not enough for the Underground Man to be convinced that rational self-interest is moving society toward a utopia. He challenges those who want to convince him otherwise that until they can fundamentally change human nature, the Crystal Palace will remain an impossible dream.
“You thirst for life and try to settle the problems of life by a logical tangle. And how persistent, how insolent are your sallies, and at the same time what a scare you are in! You talk nonsense and are pleased with it; you say impudent things and are in continual alarm and apologising for them. You declare that you are afraid of nothing and at the same time try to ingratiate yourself in our good opinion. You declare that you are gnashing your teeth and at the same time you try to be witty so as to amuse us.”
The Underground Man takes on the role of his audience by critiquing his self-contradictory style. He mocks the audience by giving voice to its mockery of him. This is a tactic of satire that Dostoevsky uses to anticipate, and thus neutralize, the reader’s skepticism. The first line encapsulates the Underground Man’s entire dilemma: He wants to live but can only hide behind his intellect.
“Snow is falling today, yellow and dingy. It fell yesterday, too, and a few days ago. I fancy it is the wet snow that has reminded me of that incident which I cannot shake off now. And so let it be a story a propos of the falling snow.”
This passage at the end of Part 1 marks the narrative shift from philosophical dialogue to the plot-focused storytelling that takes place in Part 2. Dostoevsky sets the scene to establish the tone and atmosphere of the section that follows.
“We, in Russia, have no fools; […]. That is what distinguishes us from foreign lands.”
The Underground Man makes a tongue-in-cheek comment about the difference between the Romantic transcendentalist poets of France and Germany and the much more practical Romantics of Russia. He pretends that the notion that there are educated Russian men dedicated to the “sublime and beautiful” is propagandistic journalism; of course, he is one such Romantic.
“I was a poet and a grand gentleman, I fell in love; I came in for countless millions and immediately devoted them to humanity, and at the same time I confessed before all the people my shameful deeds, which, of course, were not merely shameful, but had in them much that was ‘sublime and beautiful’ something in the Manfred style. Everyone would kiss me and weep (what idiots they would be if they did not), while I should go barefoot and hungry preaching new ideas and fighting a victorious Austerlitz against the obscurantists.”
The Underground Man fantasizes about being a heroic humanitarian between his bouts of debauchery in Saint Petersburg. This fantasy is a parody of the Romantic mindset he alludes to in the previous section.
“Once, indeed, I did have a friend. But I was already a tyrant at heart; I wanted to exercise unbounded sway over him; I tried to instill into him a contempt for his surroundings; I required of him a disdainful and complete break with those surroundings. I frightened him with my passionate affection; I reduced him to tears, to hysterics. He was a simple and devoted soul; but when he devoted himself to me entirely I began to hate him immediately and repulsed him—as though all I needed him for was to win a victory over him, to subjugate him and nothing else.”
This anecdote about the Underground Man’s school friend foreshadows the trajectory of his relationship with Liza. The Underground Man can engage in relationships only as a power struggle for psychological dominance, during which he must emotionally wound the object of his affection. Once dominated, however, the person becomes uninteresting to him. This sadistic tendency comes from the Underground Man’s fear of showing vulnerability as someone who was bullied and neglected during his youth.
“From time to time they were moved to drunken enthusiasm and kissed each other. They talked of the Caucasus, of the nature of true passion, of snug berths in the service, of the income of an [sic] hussar called Podharzhevsky, whom none of them knew personally, and rejoiced in the largeness of it, of the extraordinary grace and beauty of a Princess D., whom none of them had ever seen; then it came to Shakespeare’s being immortal.”
At the Hotel de Paris, Simonov, Zverkov, and the others drunkenly engage in discussions about the “sublime and beautiful” that the Underground Man describes in Part 1. It is important that he notes that these discussions have a Bacchanalian character, as the Underground Man believes this signals their insincerity and superficiality.
“Somewhere behind a screen a clock began wheezing, as though oppressed by something, as though someone were strangling it. After an unnaturally prolonged wheezing there followed a shrill, nasty, and as it were unexpectedly rapid, chime—as though someone were suddenly jumping forward.”
Dostoevsky personifies aspects of the setting to set the tone for the scene that follows. Here, the descriptions evoke illness and violence to not only characterize the specific sound the clock makes but also to create a tense, foreboding atmosphere.
“‘Why, you...speak somehow like a book,’ she said, and again there was a note of irony in her voice.”
Liza comments that the Underground Man’s words sound artificial when he speaks about the joys of having a family and children. Her comment is ironic because the Underground Man is sure that his speech is having the intended effect of touching Liza’s heart and making her feel pathos. In reality, however, she sees through his monologue, noting its performative and manipulative nature.
“And you are laying down everything here, unconditionally, youth and health and beauty and hope, and at twenty-two you will look like a woman of five-and-thirty, and you will be lucky if you are not diseased, pray to God for that!”
The Underground Man paints a harsh picture of the life Liza will lead if she remains in the “brothel,” paying particular attention to the fact that she will soon lose her attractiveness and be forced to work in harsher, dirtier, and more dangerous circumstances. She will likely have venereal disease, tuberculosis, or another illness for which she will have difficulty finding treatment.
“The poor girl was keeping that student’s letter as a precious treasure, and had run to fetch it, her only treasure, because she did not want me to go away without knowing that she, too, was honestly and genuinely loved; that she, too, was addressed respectfully.”
Liza’s letter is a reminder that she knows someone in Saint Petersburg who knew her from her previous life and sees her as a young, respectable woman with a future. The Underground Man has the opportunity to treat Liza respectfully, knowing both her past and her present, but he chooses to use her status as a sex worker to humiliate her in an effort to gain power over her.
“At times a thought occurred to me, to go to her, ‘to tell her all,’ and beg her not to come to me. But this thought stirred such wrath in me that I believed I should have crushed that ‘damned’ Liza if she had chanced to be near me at the time. I should have insulted her, have spat at her, have turned her out, have struck her!”
The Underground Man is violent and dangerously takes his self-hatred out on others. Liza causes him emotional discomfort, but instead of taking responsibility for his feelings, he threatens to abuse her verbally and physically.
“Liza, insulted and crushed by me, understood a great deal more than I imagined. She understood from all this what a woman understands first of all, if she feels genuine love, that is, that I was myself unhappy.”
Liza is the only one who understands that the Underground Man’s contrariness comes from a deep source of unhappiness. Unlike the Underground Man, she is not too caught up in her own emotions to acknowledge the feelings of others. She demonstrates compassion for him.
“The thought, too, came into my overwrought brain that our parts now were completely changed, that she was now the heroine, while I was just a crushed and humiliated creature as she had been before me that night— […].”
The Underground Man becomes sexually aroused only by dominating and humiliating others. Usually, he is the one in control, but on this occasion, he has become emotionally vulnerable to Liza and feels that she has control over him. Liza does not care about control; she genuinely has feelings for the Underground Man, but he views relationships in terms of power and cannot accept this new dynamic.
“[A] novel needs a hero, and all the traits for an anti-hero are expressly gathered together here […].”
The Underground Man refers to himself as the opposite of a traditional hero to challenge the philosophical and literary norms of his day. He is the embodiment of irrationality and shows the hypocrisy of the so-called educated men of his time. He considers his story not as much literature as it is a confession, as if he were before a jury.
By Fyodor Dostoevsky