A Contemporary Classic

Despite 130 Years Having Passed Since Dostoevsky’s Death, His Admirers Agree That His Work Is Still Relevant Today

A poor student obsessed with strange ideas takes out his frustration on an elderly pawnbroker, keeps denying it, confesses all, gets punished – this 142-symbol snippet could make for a Twitter version of the plot of “Crime and Punishment.” It is a story one can find in a routine police report, give or take a couple of details, but it has been fascinating generations of readers over the years. Why is Fyodor Dostoevsky still more popular than many contemporary authors? All modern writers and publishers would like to know the answer and try to pull off something similar today.

Dostoevsky's readership is much wider than the Russian-speaking world; his books often get republished in new translations. Oliver Ready, who has been working on another English version of “Crime and Punishment” for the last two years, said: “I suspect that he remains popular because of the nature of his reputation, which rests on a winning combination: as a writer who is both exceptionally ‘deep’ and exceptionally exciting. I’ve noticed, while translating ‘Crime and Punishment,’ that nearly everyone who talks to me about it remembers reading it in their late-teenage years, and I think it is Dostoevsky’s continued appeal to that particular age group that may account for the persistently high sales of this novel.”

Indeed, people tend to read Dostoevsky when they are young; some come back to him later in life. This is what happened to Roger Morris, the author of several thrillers set in 19th century St. Petersburg, whose protagonist is a detective named Porfiry Petrovich. Morris remembers reading Dostoevsky for the first time: “I was drawn to him when I was a precocious teenager, after seeing ‘The Brothers Karamazov,’ the film with Yul Brynner. It captured my imagination, so I went to the school library and picked up ‘Crime and Punishment.’ It seemed to have everything I wanted: a murder story as well as a number of serious questions; philosophical, religious, social. I was probably too young to understand it fully, but I did enjoy the crime part of the plot.” If Morris and others who read the classic at a similar age are anything to go by, a recent rumor that had a prominent Russian publisher putting out “The Adolescent” in a modernized form, re-titled “Teenager,” might be only half a joke and, if realized, even prove a success.

It is not just young readers, of course, who turn to Dostoevsky in search of a gripping or ideas-rich narrative. His treatment of religion has always attracted the attention of believers and non-believers alike. Among his great admirers is Rowan Williams, the Archbishop of Canterbury, whose recent book, “Dostoevsky: Language, Faith, and Fiction,” is a thoughtful and passionate study of the classic's four major novels, where the author not only analyzes his subject, but also dissects his own creed. To Williams Dostoevsky is a companion, an interlocutor, at times an ally, at times an opponent whose views are vehemently discussed. The archbishop keeps reminding the reader that Dostoevsky's prose is more contemporary than it might appear, talking about such issues as “adult choice,” “self-harm,” “protracted childhood” and even “cycles of abuse,” all discovered in his books. These reminders seem somewhat unwarranted: if there is one thing all lovers of Dostoevsky agree on, it is his relevance today.

Ready, who is currently revising his translation, said: “I'm also struck by the importance of Dostoevsky to contemporary debates about translation. Dostoevsky’s novels have become a lightning rod for arguments about the best ways of rendering the great texts of the past: should he be radically modernized to the language of today’s young (as happened in a recent, very popular translation of “The Brothers Karamazov” in Japan, that, I'm told, uses elements of text-speak), stylized according to a 19th century idiom, or subjected to a ‘foreignizing’ approach?”

Rhys Tranter, a literary blogger for Spectator, considers Dostoyevsky's present-day relevance from a different angle. “In a period of economic instability and at times profound personal struggle, it is worth suggesting Dostoyevsky as one of our truly modern writers. His work, which is dark and comic by turns, takes a long look at the political and economic structures that determine our lives,” wrote Tranter about “Poor Folk.” Tranter mentions the financial difficulties that plagued the Russian novelist’s career as a sign that should not be discarded as insignificant – it is almost as if his situation mirrors that of many 21st century writers.

Do people hope to learn something about present-day Russia from Dostoevsky? Oliver Ready does not think so: “It would be truer to say that our fascination with the 19th century Russian novel in Britain replaces readers’ interest in contemporary Russian books. As a literary subject, the Russia of the past appeals to readers in English a great deal more than the Russia of the present.”

The process, it appears, can be reversed. Among those who regard Dostoevsky as our living coeval is Eduard Chasovitin, an artist and film director from Moscow. He is the author of a cartoon series about Dostoevsky, which has the writer wandering around European cities, from Bruges to Venice, getting involved in their everyday life. In the latest episode he comes to London, where he is looking for Banksy, a pseudonymous figure whose street art has become cult in Britain. The classic cannot help commenting on the street scenes that unfold before him in the spirit of “Yes, it's a symbol of all literature” (uttered at the sight of a wall with numerous amateur texts stuck to it). After all Dostoevsky's attempts to find the obscure celebrity fail, the classic gives up and starts calling himself Banksy. In a curious twist, on his recent visit to London, Chasovitin met Morris – and introduced his hero, helped by modern technology. “Fyodor Mikhailovich and I hit it off famously,” Morris reported in his blog. This encounter certainly proves that Dostoevsky is not dead; alas, it still does not explain the secret of his popularity in our pragmatic world.