finished_summaries/sparknotes/The Brothers Karamazov/section_4_part_7.txt
The Brothers Karamazov.book 4.chapter 7
book 4, chapter 7
{"name": "book 4, Chapter 7", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210305110438/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/brothersk/section5/", "summary": "And in the Fresh Air  The captain is at first overjoyed at the prospect of 200 rubles. But after some consideration, he proudly throws the money to the ground, explaining that if he accepted it, his son would never be able to admire or respect him. Alyosha sets out to return the money to Katerina.", "analysis": "Book IV: Strains, Chapters 1-7 Alyosha and Zosima are extremely similar characters. Alyosha possesses Zosima's ability to ascertain a great deal about a person's inner self through simple observation. Alyosha also practices Zosima's -lesson of not judging other people. Finally, Alyosha's interaction with his father shows his ability to feel empathy for people's shortcomings while at the same time refraining from apologizing for their failings. His willingness to declare that his father is twisted illustrates his honesty and integrity, as well as his intricate understanding of human character--Alyosha draws a distinction between evil and immorality. His immediate understanding of Ivan and Katerina's relationship, his respect for the captain, and his sense that there is more to Ilyusha than violence and hostility all attest to his ability to quickly understand other people, a skill he learns from Zosima. Dostoevsky links this capability to moral purity throughout the novel, implying that the more honest and simple a person's faith is, the more easily that person will understand fellow human beings. The conflict between faith and doubt that pervades The Brothers Karamazov shows the detrimental effects of skepticism on the human character. For Dostoevsky, faith essentially represents a positive commitment to the truth, while doubt represents the suspicion that what poses as the truth is really a lie. As a result, a religious man like Zosima is capable of immediately perceiving the truth about others, whereas an irreligious man like Fyodor Pavlovich is consumed with suspicion and mistrust. Fyodor Pavlovich illustrates this difference in his suspicion that Ivan's attempt to seduce Katerina is actually a plot to keep Grushenka from marrying Fyodor Pavlovich. Fyodor Pavlovich himself is so dishonest that he assumes everyone around him is equally dishonest, and as a result, his lack of self-respect translates into as a lack of respect for the rest of humanity. This breakdown is what Zosima means when he says that the man who is dishonest with himself is incapable of love. Whereas Alyosha and Zosima love humankind because of their faith, the doubt that Ivan and Katerina feel makes them fatalistic. They see human nature as unchangeable, and therefore view people's lives as predetermined. Ivan sees Katerina's need to humiliate herself before Dmitri as a necessary part of her personality, and with that knowledge, he is paralyzed to act on his love for her, which he pridefully scorns as irrelevant. Katerina, who has been deeply hurt by Dmitri, has a corresponding sense that other people will disappoint her and cause her pain, and this sense manifests itself in her haughty desire to be made a martyr by the inevitable betrayals of those around her. She is unable to accept happiness as a possible outcome in her life, and as a result, she embraces humiliation and pain. Thus, she is just as paralyzed as Ivan, similarly unable to act on her feelings. In both of their cases, Dostoevsky shows how a kernel of doubt can spread through a person's character, transforming itself into a defensive pride that renders the person unable to be honest, happy, or capable of pursuing happiness"}
Chapter VII. And In The Open Air


"The air is fresh, but in my apartment it is not so in any sense of the
word. Let us walk slowly, sir. I should be glad of your kind interest."

"I too have something important to say to you," observed Alyosha, "only I
don't know how to begin."

"To be sure you must have business with me. You would never have looked in
upon me without some object. Unless you come simply to complain of the
boy, and that's hardly likely. And, by the way, about the boy: I could not
explain to you in there, but here I will describe that scene to you. My
tow was thicker a week ago--I mean my beard. That's the nickname they give
to my beard, the schoolboys most of all. Well, your brother Dmitri
Fyodorovitch was pulling me by my beard, I'd done nothing, he was in a
towering rage and happened to come upon me. He dragged me out of the
tavern into the market-place; at that moment the boys were coming out of
school, and with them Ilusha. As soon as he saw me in such a state he
rushed up to me. 'Father,' he cried, 'father!' He caught hold of me,
hugged me, tried to pull me away, crying to my assailant, 'Let go, let go,
it's my father, forgive him!'--yes, he actually cried 'forgive him.' He
clutched at that hand, that very hand, in his little hands and kissed
it.... I remember his little face at that moment, I haven't forgotten it
and I never shall!"

"I swear," cried Alyosha, "that my brother will express his most deep and
sincere regret, even if he has to go down on his knees in that same
market-place.... I'll make him or he is no brother of mine!"

"Aha, then it's only a suggestion! And it does not come from him but
simply from the generosity of your own warm heart. You should have said
so. No, in that case allow me to tell you of your brother's highly
chivalrous soldierly generosity, for he did give expression to it at the
time. He left off dragging me by my beard and released me: 'You are an
officer,' he said, 'and I am an officer, if you can find a decent man to
be your second send me your challenge. I will give satisfaction, though
you are a scoundrel.' That's what he said. A chivalrous spirit indeed! I
retired with Ilusha, and that scene is a family record imprinted for ever
on Ilusha's soul. No, it's not for us to claim the privileges of noblemen.
Judge for yourself. You've just been in our mansion, what did you see
there? Three ladies, one a cripple and weak-minded, another a cripple and
hunchback and the third not crippled but far too clever. She is a student,
dying to get back to Petersburg, to work for the emancipation of the
Russian woman on the banks of the Neva. I won't speak of Ilusha, he is
only nine. I am alone in the world, and if I die, what will become of all
of them? I simply ask you that. And if I challenge him and he kills me on
the spot, what then? What will become of them? And worse still, if he
doesn't kill me but only cripples me: I couldn't work, but I should still
be a mouth to feed. Who would feed it and who would feed them all? Must I
take Ilusha from school and send him to beg in the streets? That's what it
means for me to challenge him to a duel. It's silly talk and nothing
else."

"He will beg your forgiveness, he will bow down at your feet in the middle
of the market-place," cried Alyosha again, with glowing eyes.

"I did think of prosecuting him," the captain went on, "but look in our
code, could I get much compensation for a personal injury? And then
Agrafena Alexandrovna(3) sent for me and shouted at me: 'Don't dare to
dream of it! If you proceed against him, I'll publish it to all the world
that he beat you for your dishonesty, and then you will be prosecuted.' I
call God to witness whose was the dishonesty and by whose commands I
acted, wasn't it by her own and Fyodor Pavlovitch's? 'And what's more,'
she went on, 'I'll dismiss you for good and you'll never earn another
penny from me. I'll speak to my merchant too' (that's what she calls her
old man) 'and he will dismiss you!' And if he dismisses me, what can I
earn then from any one? Those two are all I have to look to, for your
Fyodor Pavlovitch has not only given over employing me, for another
reason, but he means to make use of papers I've signed to go to law
against me. And so I kept quiet, and you have seen our retreat. But now
let me ask you: did Ilusha hurt your finger much? I didn't like to go into
it in our mansion before him."

"Yes, very much, and he was in a great fury. He was avenging you on me as
a Karamazov, I see that now. But if only you had seen how he was throwing
stones at his school-fellows! It's very dangerous. They might kill him.
They are children and stupid. A stone may be thrown and break somebody's
head."

"That's just what has happened. He has been bruised by a stone to-day. Not
on the head but on the chest, just above the heart. He came home crying
and groaning and now he is ill."

"And you know he attacks them first. He is bitter against them on your
account. They say he stabbed a boy called Krassotkin with a pen-knife not
long ago."

"I've heard about that too, it's dangerous. Krassotkin is an official
here, we may hear more about it."

"I would advise you," Alyosha went on warmly, "not to send him to school
at all for a time till he is calmer ... and his anger is passed."

"Anger!" the captain repeated, "that's just what it is. He is a little
creature, but it's a mighty anger. You don't know all, sir. Let me tell
you more. Since that incident all the boys have been teasing him about the
'wisp of tow.' Schoolboys are a merciless race, individually they are
angels, but together, especially in schools, they are often merciless.
Their teasing has stirred up a gallant spirit in Ilusha. An ordinary boy,
a weak son, would have submitted, have felt ashamed of his father, sir,
but he stood up for his father against them all. For his father and for
truth and justice. For what he suffered when he kissed your brother's hand
and cried to him 'Forgive father, forgive him,'--that only God knows--and I,
his father. For our children--not your children, but ours--the children of
the poor gentlemen looked down upon by every one--know what justice means,
sir, even at nine years old. How should the rich know? They don't explore
such depths once in their lives. But at that moment in the square when he
kissed his hand, at that moment my Ilusha had grasped all that justice
means. That truth entered into him and crushed him for ever, sir," the
captain said hotly again with a sort of frenzy, and he struck his right
fist against his left palm as though he wanted to show how "the truth"
crushed Ilusha. "That very day, sir, he fell ill with fever and was
delirious all night. All that day he hardly said a word to me, but I
noticed he kept watching me from the corner, though he turned to the
window and pretended to be learning his lessons. But I could see his mind
was not on his lessons. Next day I got drunk to forget my troubles, sinful
man as I am, and I don't remember much. Mamma began crying, too--I am very
fond of mamma--well, I spent my last penny drowning my troubles. Don't
despise me for that, sir, in Russia men who drink are the best. The best
men amongst us are the greatest drunkards. I lay down and I don't remember
about Ilusha, though all that day the boys had been jeering at him at
school. 'Wisp of tow,' they shouted, 'your father was pulled out of the
tavern by his wisp of tow, you ran by and begged forgiveness.' "

"On the third day when he came back from school, I saw he looked pale and
wretched. 'What is it?' I asked. He wouldn't answer. Well, there's no
talking in our mansion without mamma and the girls taking part in it.
What's more, the girls had heard about it the very first day. Varvara had
begun snarling. 'You fools and buffoons, can you ever do anything
rational?' 'Quite so,' I said, 'can we ever do anything rational?' For the
time I turned it off like that. So in the evening I took the boy out for a
walk, for you must know we go for a walk every evening, always the same
way, along which we are going now--from our gate to that great stone which
lies alone in the road under the hurdle, which marks the beginning of the
town pasture. A beautiful and lonely spot, sir. Ilusha and I walked along
hand in hand as usual. He has a little hand, his fingers are thin and
cold--he suffers with his chest, you know. 'Father,' said he, 'father!'
'Well?' said I. I saw his eyes flashing. 'Father, how he treated you
then!' 'It can't be helped, Ilusha,' I said. 'Don't forgive him, father,
don't forgive him! At school they say that he has paid you ten roubles for
it.' 'No, Ilusha,' said I, 'I would not take money from him for anything.'
Then he began trembling all over, took my hand in both his and kissed it
again. 'Father,' he said, 'father, challenge him to a duel, at school they
say you are a coward and won't challenge him, and that you'll accept ten
roubles from him.' 'I can't challenge him to a duel, Ilusha,' I answered.
And I told briefly what I've just told you. He listened. 'Father,' he
said, 'anyway don't forgive it. When I grow up I'll call him out myself
and kill him.' His eyes shone and glowed. And of course I am his father,
and I had to put in a word: 'It's a sin to kill,' I said, 'even in a
duel.' 'Father,' he said, 'when I grow up, I'll knock him down, knock the
sword out of his hand, I'll fall on him, wave my sword over him and say:
"I could kill you, but I forgive you, so there!" ' You see what the
workings of his little mind have been during these two days; he must have
been planning that vengeance all day, and raving about it at night.

"But he began to come home from school badly beaten, I found out about it
the day before yesterday, and you are right, I won't send him to that
school any more. I heard that he was standing up against all the class
alone and defying them all, that his heart was full of resentment, of
bitterness--I was alarmed about him. We went for another walk. 'Father,' he
asked, 'are the rich people stronger than any one else on earth?' 'Yes,
Ilusha,' I said, 'there are no people on earth stronger than the rich.'
'Father,' he said, 'I will get rich, I will become an officer and conquer
everybody. The Tsar will reward me, I will come back here and then no one
will dare--' Then he was silent and his lips still kept trembling.
'Father,' he said, 'what a horrid town this is.' 'Yes, Ilusha,' I said,
'it isn't a very nice town.' 'Father, let us move into another town, a
nice one,' he said, 'where people don't know about us.' 'We will move, we
will, Ilusha,' said I, 'only I must save up for it.' I was glad to be able
to turn his mind from painful thoughts, and we began to dream of how we
would move to another town, how we would buy a horse and cart. 'We will
put mamma and your sisters inside, we will cover them up and we'll walk,
you shall have a lift now and then, and I'll walk beside, for we must take
care of our horse, we can't all ride. That's how we'll go.' He was
enchanted at that, most of all at the thought of having a horse and
driving him. For of course a Russian boy is born among horses. We
chattered a long while. Thank God, I thought, I have diverted his mind and
comforted him.

"That was the day before yesterday, in the evening, but last night
everything was changed. He had gone to school in the morning, he came back
depressed, terribly depressed. In the evening I took him by the hand and
we went for a walk; he would not talk. There was a wind blowing and no
sun, and a feeling of autumn; twilight was coming on. We walked along,
both of us depressed. 'Well, my boy,' said I, 'how about our setting off
on our travels?' I thought I might bring him back to our talk of the day
before. He didn't answer, but I felt his fingers trembling in my hand. Ah,
I thought, it's a bad job; there's something fresh. We had reached the
stone where we are now. I sat down on the stone. And in the air there were
lots of kites flapping and whirling. There were as many as thirty in
sight. Of course, it's just the season for the kites. 'Look, Ilusha,' said
I, 'it's time we got out our last year's kite again. I'll mend it, where
have you put it away?' My boy made no answer. He looked away and turned
sideways to me. And then a gust of wind blew up the sand. He suddenly fell
on me, threw both his little arms round my neck and held me tight. You
know, when children are silent and proud, and try to keep back their tears
when they are in great trouble and suddenly break down, their tears fall
in streams. With those warm streams of tears, he suddenly wetted my face.
He sobbed and shook as though he were in convulsions, and squeezed up
against me as I sat on the stone. 'Father,' he kept crying, 'dear father,
how he insulted you!' And I sobbed too. We sat shaking in each other's
arms. 'Ilusha,' I said to him, 'Ilusha darling.' No one saw us then. God
alone saw us, I hope He will record it to my credit. You must thank your
brother, Alexey Fyodorovitch. No, sir, I won't thrash my boy for your
satisfaction."

He had gone back to his original tone of resentful buffoonery. Alyosha
felt though that he trusted him, and that if there had been some one else
in his, Alyosha's place, the man would not have spoken so openly and would
not have told what he had just told. This encouraged Alyosha, whose heart
was trembling on the verge of tears.

"Ah, how I would like to make friends with your boy!" he cried. "If you
could arrange it--"

"Certainly, sir," muttered the captain.

"But now listen to something quite different!" Alyosha went on. "I have a
message for you. That same brother of mine, Dmitri, has insulted his
betrothed, too, a noble-hearted girl of whom you have probably heard. I
have a right to tell you of her wrong; I ought to do so, in fact, for
hearing of the insult done to you and learning all about your unfortunate
position, she commissioned me at once--just now--to bring you this help from
her--but only from her alone, not from Dmitri, who has abandoned her. Nor
from me, his brother, nor from any one else, but from her, only from her!
She entreats you to accept her help.... You have both been insulted by the
same man. She thought of you only when she had just received a similar
insult from him--similar in its cruelty, I mean. She comes like a sister to
help a brother in misfortune.... She told me to persuade you to take these
two hundred roubles from her, as from a sister, knowing that you are in
such need. No one will know of it, it can give rise to no unjust slander.
There are the two hundred roubles, and I swear you must take them
unless--unless all men are to be enemies on earth! But there are brothers
even on earth.... You have a generous heart ... you must see that, you
must," and Alyosha held out two new rainbow-colored hundred-rouble notes.

They were both standing at the time by the great stone close to the fence,
and there was no one near. The notes seemed to produce a tremendous
impression on the captain. He started, but at first only from
astonishment. Such an outcome of their conversation was the last thing he
expected. Nothing could have been farther from his dreams than help from
any one--and such a sum!

He took the notes, and for a minute he was almost unable to answer, quite
a new expression came into his face.

"That for me? So much money--two hundred roubles! Good heavens! Why, I
haven't seen so much money for the last four years! Mercy on us! And she
says she is a sister.... And is that the truth?"

"I swear that all I told you is the truth," cried Alyosha.

The captain flushed red.

"Listen, my dear, listen. If I take it, I shan't be behaving like a
scoundrel? In your eyes, Alexey Fyodorovitch, I shan't be a scoundrel? No,
Alexey Fyodorovitch, listen, listen," he hurried, touching Alyosha with
both his hands. "You are persuading me to take it, saying that it's a
sister sends it, but inwardly, in your heart won't you feel contempt for
me if I take it, eh?"

"No, no, on my salvation I swear I shan't! And no one will ever know but
me--I, you and she, and one other lady, her great friend."

"Never mind the lady! Listen, Alexey Fyodorovitch, at a moment like this
you must listen, for you can't understand what these two hundred roubles
mean to me now." The poor fellow went on rising gradually into a sort of
incoherent, almost wild enthusiasm. He was thrown off his balance and
talked extremely fast, as though afraid he would not be allowed to say all
he had to say.

"Besides its being honestly acquired from a 'sister,' so highly respected
and revered, do you know that now I can look after mamma and Nina, my
hunchback angel daughter? Doctor Herzenstube came to me in the kindness of
his heart and was examining them both for a whole hour. 'I can make
nothing of it,' said he, but he prescribed a mineral water which is kept
at a chemist's here. He said it would be sure to do her good, and he
ordered baths, too, with some medicine in them. The mineral water costs
thirty copecks, and she'd need to drink forty bottles perhaps; so I took
the prescription and laid it on the shelf under the ikons, and there it
lies. And he ordered hot baths for Nina with something dissolved in them,
morning and evening. But how can we carry out such a cure in our mansion,
without servants, without help, without a bath, and without water? Nina is
rheumatic all over, I don't think I told you that. All her right side
aches at night, she is in agony, and, would you believe it, the angel
bears it without groaning for fear of waking us. We eat what we can get,
and she'll only take the leavings, what you'd scarcely give to a dog. 'I
am not worth it, I am taking it from you, I am a burden on you,' that's
what her angel eyes try to express. We wait on her, but she doesn't like
it. 'I am a useless cripple, no good to any one.' As though she were not
worth it, when she is the saving of all of us with her angelic sweetness.
Without her, without her gentle word it would be hell among us! She
softens even Varvara. And don't judge Varvara harshly either, she is an
angel too, she, too, has suffered wrong. She came to us for the summer,
and she brought sixteen roubles she had earned by lessons and saved up, to
go back with to Petersburg in September, that is now. But we took her
money and lived on it, so now she has nothing to go back with. Though
indeed she couldn't go back, for she has to work for us like a slave. She
is like an overdriven horse with all of us on her back. She waits on us
all, mends and washes, sweeps the floor, puts mamma to bed. And mamma is
capricious and tearful and insane! And now I can get a servant with this
money, you understand, Alexey Fyodorovitch, I can get medicines for the
dear creatures, I can send my student to Petersburg, I can buy beef, I can
feed them properly. Good Lord, but it's a dream!"

Alyosha was delighted that he had brought him such happiness and that the
poor fellow had consented to be made happy.

"Stay, Alexey Fyodorovitch, stay," the captain began to talk with frenzied
rapidity, carried away by a new day-dream. "Do you know that Ilusha and I
will perhaps really carry out our dream. We will buy a horse and cart, a
black horse, he insists on its being black, and we will set off as we
pretended the other day. I have an old friend, a lawyer in K. province,
and I heard through a trustworthy man that if I were to go he'd give me a
place as clerk in his office, so, who knows, maybe he would. So I'd just
put mamma and Nina in the cart, and Ilusha could drive, and I'd walk, I'd
walk.... Why, if I only succeed in getting one debt paid that's owing me,
I should have perhaps enough for that too!"

"There would be enough!" cried Alyosha. "Katerina Ivanovna will send you
as much more as you need, and you know, I have money too, take what you
want, as you would from a brother, from a friend, you can give it back
later.... (You'll get rich, you'll get rich!) And you know you couldn't
have a better idea than to move to another province! It would be the
saving of you, especially of your boy--and you ought to go quickly, before
the winter, before the cold. You must write to us when you are there, and
we will always be brothers.... No, it's not a dream!"

Alyosha could have hugged him, he was so pleased. But glancing at him he
stopped short. The man was standing with his neck outstretched and his
lips protruding, with a pale and frenzied face. His lips were moving as
though trying to articulate something; no sound came, but still his lips
moved. It was uncanny.

"What is it?" asked Alyosha, startled.

"Alexey Fyodorovitch ... I ... you," muttered the captain, faltering,
looking at him with a strange, wild, fixed stare, and an air of desperate
resolution. At the same time there was a sort of grin on his lips. "I ...
you, sir ... wouldn't you like me to show you a little trick I know?" he
murmured, suddenly, in a firm rapid whisper, his voice no longer
faltering.

"What trick?"

"A pretty trick," whispered the captain. His mouth was twisted on the left
side, his left eye was screwed up. He still stared at Alyosha.

"What is the matter? What trick?" Alyosha cried, now thoroughly alarmed.

"Why, look," squealed the captain suddenly, and showing him the two notes
which he had been holding by one corner between his thumb and forefinger
during the conversation, he crumpled them up savagely and squeezed them
tight in his right hand. "Do you see, do you see?" he shrieked, pale and
infuriated. And suddenly flinging up his hand, he threw the crumpled notes
on the sand. "Do you see?" he shrieked again, pointing to them. "Look
there!"

And with wild fury he began trampling them under his heel, gasping and
exclaiming as he did so:

"So much for your money! So much for your money! So much for your money!
So much for your money!"

Suddenly he darted back and drew himself up before Alyosha, and his whole
figure expressed unutterable pride.

"Tell those who sent you that the wisp of tow does not sell his honor," he
cried, raising his arm in the air. Then he turned quickly and began to
run; but he had not run five steps before he turned completely round and
kissed his hand to Alyosha. He ran another five paces and then turned
round for the last time. This time his face was not contorted with
laughter, but quivering all over with tears. In a tearful, faltering,
sobbing voice he cried:

"What should I say to my boy if I took money from you for our shame?"

And then he ran on without turning. Alyosha looked after him,
inexpressibly grieved. Oh, he saw that till the very last moment the man
had not known he would crumple up and fling away the notes. He did not
turn back. Alyosha knew he would not. He would not follow him and call him
back, he knew why. When he was out of sight, Alyosha picked up the two
notes. They were very much crushed and crumpled, and had been pressed into
the sand, but were uninjured and even rustled like new ones when Alyosha
unfolded them and smoothed them out. After smoothing them out, he folded
them up, put them in his pocket and went to Katerina Ivanovna to report on
the success of her commission.






book 4, Chapter 7
And in the Fresh Air  The captain is at first overjoyed at the prospect of 200 rubles. But after some consideration, he proudly throws the money to the ground, explaining that if he accepted it, his son would never be able to admire or respect him. Alyosha sets out to return the money to Katerina.
Book IV: Strains, Chapters 1-7 Alyosha and Zosima are extremely similar characters. Alyosha possesses Zosima's ability to ascertain a great deal about a person's inner self through simple observation. Alyosha also practices Zosima's -lesson of not judging other people. Finally, Alyosha's interaction with his father shows his ability to feel empathy for people's shortcomings while at the same time refraining from apologizing for their failings. His willingness to declare that his father is twisted illustrates his honesty and integrity, as well as his intricate understanding of human character--Alyosha draws a distinction between evil and immorality. His immediate understanding of Ivan and Katerina's relationship, his respect for the captain, and his sense that there is more to Ilyusha than violence and hostility all attest to his ability to quickly understand other people, a skill he learns from Zosima. Dostoevsky links this capability to moral purity throughout the novel, implying that the more honest and simple a person's faith is, the more easily that person will understand fellow human beings. The conflict between faith and doubt that pervades The Brothers Karamazov shows the detrimental effects of skepticism on the human character. For Dostoevsky, faith essentially represents a positive commitment to the truth, while doubt represents the suspicion that what poses as the truth is really a lie. As a result, a religious man like Zosima is capable of immediately perceiving the truth about others, whereas an irreligious man like Fyodor Pavlovich is consumed with suspicion and mistrust. Fyodor Pavlovich illustrates this difference in his suspicion that Ivan's attempt to seduce Katerina is actually a plot to keep Grushenka from marrying Fyodor Pavlovich. Fyodor Pavlovich himself is so dishonest that he assumes everyone around him is equally dishonest, and as a result, his lack of self-respect translates into as a lack of respect for the rest of humanity. This breakdown is what Zosima means when he says that the man who is dishonest with himself is incapable of love. Whereas Alyosha and Zosima love humankind because of their faith, the doubt that Ivan and Katerina feel makes them fatalistic. They see human nature as unchangeable, and therefore view people's lives as predetermined. Ivan sees Katerina's need to humiliate herself before Dmitri as a necessary part of her personality, and with that knowledge, he is paralyzed to act on his love for her, which he pridefully scorns as irrelevant. Katerina, who has been deeply hurt by Dmitri, has a corresponding sense that other people will disappoint her and cause her pain, and this sense manifests itself in her haughty desire to be made a martyr by the inevitable betrayals of those around her. She is unable to accept happiness as a possible outcome in her life, and as a result, she embraces humiliation and pain. Thus, she is just as paralyzed as Ivan, similarly unable to act on her feelings. In both of their cases, Dostoevsky shows how a kernel of doubt can spread through a person's character, transforming itself into a defensive pride that renders the person unable to be honest, happy, or capable of pursuing happiness