My Wounded, Expanded Self-Esteem

"Every act of conscious learning requires the willingness to suffer an injury to one’s self-esteem. That is why young children, before they are aware of their own self-importance, learn so easily; and why older persons, especially if vain or important, cannot learn at all." Thomas Szasz

After finishing Crime and Punishment, I tried to read the second book in the Hunger Games trilogy. I had taken a break during the reading of Crime and Punishment to read the first book, which I enjoyed. But I wasn’t able to get beyond page ten of the second book, and that made me wonder if the problem was along the lines of “Man's mind stretched to a new idea never goes back to its original dimensions” (Oliver Wendell Holmes), or if the second book’s plot is really going to be as predictable and banal as it seems. If you’ve read the second and/or third books, and you want to advise me, feel free. For now, I’ve moved on to Year of the Flood by Margaret Atwood ( to satisfy my hunger for dystopia) and Trinity by Leon Uris (on my brother’s recommendation), but I’m feeling propelled toward the Brothers K or Tolstoy's  War and Peace, I’m not sure which.

It’s not that I think Dostoevsky is a great writer. He’s not. His prose is stilted, and his characters are annoying. His mastery lies in the ideas he introduces and the way he introduces them. In the space of roughly 550 pages, he threw so many new, mind-expanding ideas at me that I still haven’t caught up. Not necessarily even ideas I agree with, but what does that matter? You cannot become a fully developed human being if you aren’t willing to “suffer an injury to [your] self-esteem.”

My experience with trying to read Catching Fire after Crime and Punishment makes me wonder if reading great literature ruins you for lesser, entertaining literature. It’s kind of like skiing the greens after skiing the blacks or riding a beginner MTB trail after you get used to an advanced one. Can you go back and still enjoy yourself? I don’t know. Stay tuned to find out.

Crime and Punishment

Finishing Crime and Punishment feels a bit like I imagine having scaled a sheer rock face might feel.  Ninety-nine percent hard work for one percent beautiful view.  Talk about delayed gratification.  Good grief.  I will say that all through the 551 pages, I had no view to hope for the resolution of the last two pages.  Not that I would necessarily recommend reading the book just for the redemption of the last two pages, but it is nice to know that redemption is possible, even for an axe murderer.    (Gives us lesser, petty transgressors hope, ya know.)  So many ideas are introduced in the novel that it is impossible to wrap my head around even a small percent of them at this point.  I highlighted more passages than I have time to recap.  As difficult as finishing the novel was, I feel like I could read it ten more times and still not absorb everything.  And that, I suppose, is what makes a great novel great:  too much brilliance for one small mind over the course of one cursory reading.  Did I like it?  Not particularly.  Did I find it beautiful or uplifting?  Not at all.   I don't even think Dostoevsky is a particularly "good writer."  But still I fear that what I read next will seem petty and mean in relation.