Firstborn

Firstborn: A Novel

by Lorie Ann Grover

I . . . what?

I feel that I'm usually a pretty generous reader. Books that have been published generally pass a certain standard of "good," but this time I really wanted to question the publishers behind this novel. When I first picked it up, the story appeared interesting: a desert fantasy setting, about a girl born among an oppressed people, who must live as a boy. But as I read on, the downward spiral began...

As a reader and a lover of all written works, I found very little in this book to redeem itself. 

First off, the back-story has much to be desired. What is this world? What kind of society is it? What are the social structures, and how do the two major religions play a role in it? Though these questions are addressed in the book, they are never fully explored; at least, not enough to immerse me into the world that she is creating. This is a brand new world here, with new countries, customs, people, cultures....it seems too half-baked for me to invest my interest into it.

Same goes for the characters. There just isn't enough of them. There are a standard amount of characters, by number, but none of them are fully fleshed out. Even the main character, who is speaking in first-person, fails to draw upon my empathy. This may be because her emotional reactions to the situation around her doesn't seem to match up (she frequently gets overly upset or extremely happy in response to things that wouldn't draw out such emotions. Either that, or the author does a poor job building up the drama towards that moment), or because I am not given enough information about her from the start. I don't feel like I got to really know who she is as a person, even though I journeyed through almost 300 pages with her.

And the geographic description is, well, hazy. I don't expect penmenship on par with Tolkien's Lord of the Rings, which is notorious for its detailed description of the landscape of his world in the first book of the trilogy. What I do wish to see is a place I can imagine, even if it's not 100% accurate according to what the author is imagining. Instead, I get something like:

"My glance skitters over the open vista. Beyond the rocky desert and the distant humped dunes are other lands." -pg. 59, Chapter 13, "The Trek"

I realize that books these days try to keep bare descriptions short to keep the reader engaged, but here the description is so brief that I don't have time to picture it before I need to move on. 

Also, the sentences are a bit...short. Not that I have anything against short sentences. Many fantastic books have been written with short sentences. But the imperial tone of the narration, and the setting of the story, makes it sound incompatible when the entire book consists of sentences that don't go past  two lines. In a book that casually throws around phrases like "For certain" and "Our subservience to you" and "I still my centerself," I think the author can afford to use a comma or two in her sentences. In short, I felt awkward reading it, because I felt that the author felt awkward writing it.

And lastly, the ending. The ending that left many, many knots unfinished, and resolved maybe two problems out of the many other ones the author laid out for us. And one of those resolved issues was only introduced in chapter 80, five chapters before the end. The gist of it is that she runs away from her community, but that seriously doesn't solve any of her problems. I don't even think there's a sequel for this, so not sure how she'll survive on her own in a new country that hasn't even been introduced throughout the book's entirety...

The idea of the plot itself was intriguing. But the execution was poor, at least in this reader's opinion. I have seen many reviews on Bookreads and Amazon that rate this book positively, but sad to say, I can't agree with them. Hopefully my next Christian fantasy novel has more to offer.

The Karamazov Brothers

The Karamazov Brothers

by Fyodor Dostoevsky

"Two extremes . . . remember that a Karamazov can encompass two extremes, and both at one and the same time!" -Ippolit Kyrillovich, in his prosecution speech during Mitya's trial

First off, this book is not thought-provoking. It does a lot more than just provoke. It's a book that smashes your preconceived, half-baked conceptions of good, evil, free will, and happiness . . . it'll smash them to smithereens, and then maybe, perhaps, will give you a solution on how to rebuild the shattered pieces into a whole again.

Dostoevsky does this not through the plot or the storyline, but through his presentation of the characters: their life, their personalities, their psychology, their development. The plot had very little effect as a whole. There were more monologues and dialogues than there were sequences of action, and though a lot of readers may be put off by the lack of "doing" in the story, I found the characters' speeches far more interesting than the descriptions of where they went or what they did throughout the day. 

First there is Dmitry Karamazov. Oldest brother, an incorrigible man who seeks pleasures and passions with wild abandon. He carouses with women, spends money like water, assaults people who get on his nerves. The resident playboy and bad boy. But he is also one of the most spiritual characters in the novel; he claims that he will love God even as he rots in Hell. He confesses, "I may be damned, I may be base and despicable, but I kiss the hem of the robe that envelops my God..."

What are we supposed to make of this man? Clearly he is not righteous; he can't be called religious or pious even in very loose terms. Yet he holds a genuine capacity to love and his desire to seek out happiness. So then, is he good? What is a good man? What defines a noble spirit, a man of honor? Dmitry claims this title for himself, and though he is a "scoundrel" who commits sins and wrongs left and right, he displays a personal set of morals that truly convinces him that he is a noble man. The inexplicable fact that the townspeople love him even though he is so base, makes it even more convincing that he may actually be an honorable person. 

As Ippolit Kyrillovich describes, Dmitry is a man of "two extremes." He is extremely spiritual and extremely worldly, both passionate and repentant, both loving and hateful. 

Secondly we have Ivan Karamazov. Argued by some to be the true protagonist and final victor of the story, this 2nd Karamazov brother is an intellectual, who rejects the existence of God and goes mad in his descent into a mire of immorality and consequences. The most disturbing aspect of Ivan is not simply that he doesn't believe in God. That describes all atheists, in general, and Ivan is not an atheist. Rather, Ivan is an anti-theist, and a lover of mankind. He cannot understand human suffering; he wishes for human happiness, and this leads him to reject the existence of God even if God really did exist. He explains this to Alyosha by comparing the entrance to heaven as a bus ticket: "It's not God that I don't accept, Alyosha, only I most respectfully return him the ticket."

But later on, Ivan is tormented. His notion that "everything is permitted," that man can do whatever he wants in the absence of a good God, begins to take on shapes and forms that he never anticipated or prepared for. A murder is committed by another, who reasoned his actions based on Ivan's teachings, and suddenly Ivan finds his personal philosophy haunts him through the conscience he never thought he had. He hallucinates about Satan, who throws him into utter confusion as to the nature of his beliefs: does Ivan really want to reject God? Or is he desperate to find God, is he waiting for someone to come along and disprove his claims? 

Again, a most extreme and divided man. Ivan both rejects God and seeks God with all his might. Yet his final madness in the last chapters reflects a mind that was perhaps a little too knowledgeable in his own concepts, and far too unaware of the universal truths that govern the human heart. Most of all, it is a heart that may have, in fact, been seeking to find God after all.

And lastly we have Alyosha. The least talkative, the most spiritually centered, and thus potentially the most boring character in the book....except we find out as the book progresses, that Alyosha is also inescapably a Karamazov. The youngest brother of the three aspires to be a monk, and is always the kind "cherub" to whom others look to for spiritual guidance. Unlike his other brothers, he does not reject God or His doctrines, serving wholeheartedly alongside Father Zosima, his spiritual mentor and model. But when misfortune strikes, Alyosha finds that he is just as prone to falling into the evils of the world--his visit to Grushenka displays one of the most profound and staggering moments of the book. The pure, kind, angelic Alyosha, actually wishes to be corrupted.....the Karamazov tendency surfaces all the more shockingly.

But Alyosha's faith ultimately wins. He discovers the good in the very place where he sought to find evil, and in the process becomes completely strengthened in his belief in the goodness and saving love of God. 

These three brothers, and many more people in the small Russian town where the story takes place, experience changes that will also leave the reader changed in his own way. 

It is not a book I would recommend to anyone, yet everyone should read this, for better or worse. Just be aware that after this book has been finished, it is impossible to walk away completely unaffected by it.

Whether or not the book answers Ivan's critical questions of God's goodness in his plans for humanity appears ambiguous at best. But I believe Dostoevsky found his answer. The characters seek a way to justify their own actions, they seek to know if God really exists, if God is really good, if morality is indeed something that rules our actions. 

The answer is yes.

Not an answer that comes about through logical arguments or structured reasoning. It is an answer from the hearts of the characters: the heart of Ivan, who confessed to a crime in order to seek redemption, the heart of Mitya, who sought conviction to atone for his sins, and the heart of Alyosha, who extols the boys in the story onward to love and hope in God. In the parting moments of all these men--there lies Dostoevsky's final answer to the questions he poses through the voices of these selfsame characters.