Ivan Karamazov and Agreeable Evil

Not without reason do readers consider Dostoyevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov one of the greatest literary works of all time. Dostoyevsky’s brilliant characterization and narrative structure alone would let the novel pass the test of a classic, which, according to Longinus, is to speak to the widest possible variety of readers across the longest possible span of time. Within this tale of a father’s murder, and his sons’ varying reactions to it, Dostoyevsky opens up a realm of insight about the problem of evil, man’s relationship to his Creator, the dangers of pride, the nature of family relationships, and more.

And within this panoramic realm, one scene stands out among the rest as most unsettling. Dostoyevsky is no stranger to using elements of psychological horror to convey a sense of moral realism. These elements of horror serve Dostoyevsky’s project of portraying evil accurately, and thus disturbingly. But in the chapter titled “Ivan’s Nightmare,” this quality is at its most pronounced, since a new character joins the cast here: the devil.

Even more so than the earlier, more famous passage where middle child Ivan Karamazov gives voice and presence to the scandalous Grand Inquisitor, this extended conversation between Ivan Karamazov and his spiritual antagonist is incredibly rich, full of fascinating glimpses into Dostoyevsky’s beliefs, and into the natures of evil, sin, and punishment. I wish to narrow in on one specific aspect of this encounter here.

Pay close attention to the narrator’s description of Ivan’s eerie visitor, and especially to the family of terms he uses:

In brief there was every appearance of gentility on straitened means. It looked as though the gentleman belonged to that class of idle landowners who used to flourish in the times of serfdom. He had unmistakably been, at some time, in good and fashionable society, had once had good connections, had possibly preserved them indeed, but, after a gay youth, becoming gradually impoverished on the abolition of serfdom, he had sunk into the position of a poor relation of the best class, wandering from one good old friend to another and received by them for his companionable and accommodating disposition and as being, after all, a gentleman who could be asked to sit down with anyone, though, of course, not in a place of honor. Such gentlemen . . . have a distinct aversion for any duties that may be forced upon them, [and] are usually solitary creatures…The countenance of the unexpected visitor was not so much good-natured, as accommodating and ready to assume any amiable expression as occasion might arise.

The devil is portrayed here as a plausible fellow: once in a position of power, but not anymore; companionable, but not good-natured; well connected, but ultimately solitary. Though he prefers to visit those of “the best class,” today he has come to meet with Ivan, a poor student.

Let’s dive deeper into Ivan’s character to better appreciate the irony of the situation. Ivan is the most pensive and intellectual of the three titular brothers, compared to Mitya, the impulsive sensualist, and Alyosha, the amiable spiritualist. The fallen angel could have come to tempt the carnally focused Mitya, or attempt to frighten Alyosha out of his devotion, as he has done to plenty of saints and mystics throughout history. At least at first glance, Ivan seems to be the least obvious target of the three.

Yet Ivan is more vulnerable than he looks. Ivan’s reflections on the sinfulness of human nature have driven him to become a reserved and moody cynic with very few real relationships. He adopts a worldview which echoes that of philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche, believing that morality does not exist, and all human actions are permissible—a downward spiral which tracks closely to his descent into depression. But he is too proud to withstand challenges to this way of thinking, challenges such as the kind Alyosha poses. Ivan is frightened, gloomy, and enraged at the world around him—and too prideful to admit any of this. Despite least resembling the kind of company kept by the “former landowner” (an interesting choice of resonance, given that Christ called this being “the ruler of this world”), Ivan is truly the perfect target.

Ivan is, notably, very ill as well, and this provides another avenue for his pride to work through. Ivan is a denier of the spiritual. He is also in bad enough health that hallucination is a very real possibility for him. Thus, Ivan spends much of the conversation attempting to convince himself that his strange visitor is nothing more than a production of his addled imagination: a discourse which the visitor uses to his advantage, driving Ivan further into madness:

I lead you to belief and disbelief by turns, and I have my motive in it . . . As soon as you disbelieve in me completely, you’ll begin assuring me to my face that I am not a dream but a reality. I know you.

Fascinatingly, the reserved Ivan not only chooses to engage the devil in conversation, but even makes efforts to keep it going, asking questions of his adversary and asking him to tell humorous stories. Because in the context of The Brothers Karamazov (and arguably in real life), the devil is quite agreeable. But there’s a difference between being agreeable and being good.

The entire goal of Ivan’s tempter is to present himself as pleasant enough to keep Ivan engaged with his machinations, while also being clever enough to draw Ivan further and further down the path of frenzied gloom he is already treading. Though Ivan reacts with frustration and even anger at times, he also laughs and takes interest in some of his adversary’s points and stories. Notably, the devil tells a story about a philosopher who rejected spirituality, who refused to go to Heaven upon dying because it went against his principles but later changed his mind and took great joy in the heavenly delights. Even though the story is clearly intended to ridicule Ivan’s beliefs, since the protagonist of the story clearly resembles him, Ivan takes great pleasure and interest in it.

By breaking through the reticent Ivan’s defenses, this agreeable devil, through his subtle craftiness, succeeds in driving Ivan to the complete mental and physical breakdown he suffers later in the story. It is worth noting that the only other person in the story to whom Ivan opens himself up is his similarly agreeable, but decidedly good-natured, brother Alyosha. Not even Katerina Ivanovna, his love interest, receives this kind of communication from Ivan; in fact, Ivan’s consistent refusal to be open with Katerina results in a great deal of conflict earlier in the story.

This episode paints an accurate picture of our own battles with evil in real life. We would never choose evil if it appeared to us as obviously evil. Only under the guise of a perceived good, Thomas Aquinas reminds us, is the will ever drawn to evil. Ergo, many evils appear to us to be good—or, in truer words, agreeable—from time to time. Otherwise, we would never sin.

But even more than its psychological acuity, perhaps the most striking aspect of Ivan’s devil is his divergence from other literary representations of ultimate evil. A far cry from the obviously crafty Mephistopheles of Goethe’s Faust or the arrogant “self-made” prince of Milton’s Paradise Lost, an even farther cry from the violent and dangerous Un-man of C. S. Lewis’ Perelandra, Dostoyevsky’s devil is a congenial older man, good at telling nonsensical stories and occasionally mocking his companions with dry witticisms. Working through the medium of imagination, Dostoyevsky skillfully scores his rhetorical point: evil is likeliest to get the better of us when it appears to us in a form we do not expect, even a form we may be inclined to trust.

May this insight lead us to handle our own battles with evil well.