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Dostoevsky's conception of the human personality, as defined by Bakhtin, centres on the problem of dualism and the need for interaction as the foundation of dialogue:
A single person, remaining alone with himself, cannot make ends meet even in the deepest and most intimate spheres of his own spiritual life, he cannot manage without another consciousness. One person can never find fullness in himself alone.
The orientation of one person to another person's discourse and consciousness is, in essence, the basic theme of all of Dostoevsky's works. The hero's attitude toward himself is inseparably bound up with his attitude towards another, and with the attitude of another toward him. His consciousness of self is constantly perceived against the background of the other's consciousness of him–“I for myself” against a background of “I for another”. Thus the hero's words about himself are structured under the continuing influence of somebody else's words about him.
Bakhtin posits dialogue as an ideal of self-affirmation arising from co-existence and interaction. This suggests a harmonious unity with the other in a polyphonic ‘world of consciousnesses mutually illuminating one another, a world of yoked-together semantic human orientations.’ However, few readers would agree that harmonious cooperation forms the basis of Dostoevsky's works, where interaction habitually involves dispute, violence, coercion, violation and withdrawal, on the verbal, physical and emotional levels. While Bakhtin addresses dialogue as an ideal, and perceives harmony in Dostoevsky's polyphony, the novels themselves depict the varying ways in which dialogue is distorted and corrupted, and polyphony is frequently transformed into cacophony.
One of the major problems facing the reader of The Idiot is the presentation of the character of Nastas'ia Filippovna. Her motivation and relationships with other characters remain largely obscure, owing to her absence from large sections of the narrative; she makes her entrance in the ‘real’ time of the novel at the end of chapter nine of Part One, and in Parts Two and Three appears for just three brief scenes. In Part Four, we witness directly only her confrontation with Aglaia, as subsequent details of her marriage preparations and flight with Rogozhin are sketched in by the narrator after the event. In the novel as a whole Nastas'ia Filippovna makes only 131 speech acts–significantly fewer not only than Myshkin, Aglaia and Rogozhin, but also than Lizaveta Prokofievna, Lebedev, Ippolit and Gania.
However, in spite of the fact that she has been the subject of remarkably little criticism, it is clear both from the notebooks and throughout the novel itself that Nastas'ia Filippovna's role is not simply an important one, but that she is central to the plot: ‘In reality, N[astas'ia] F[ilippovna], perhaps, plays the main role’ (IX, 226). Fridlender notes that Dostoevsky considered her to be the second hero of the novel (XXVIII.2, 241), and highlights the impact on the text of her personality, which constantly holds the attention of the reader.
In The Idiot, the ideological battles which form the basis of Dostoevsky's other major novels are decentralized, in favour of experimentation with the ethical value of literary form, exploring narrative as a mode of interactivity which is fundamental to self-perception and orientation towards the other within both interpersonal and textual relations. As control is ceded to the characters, the structuring of the text becomes dominated by the tension between the openness and presentness of Prince Myshkin's saintly scripting, and the determinism and impulse to closure of Nastas'ia Filippovna's counterscripts. The clash of worldviews represented by their scripts provides the dynamics of the text, and gives the novel a sense of unity in spite of the ad hoc manner in which it was written. As Nastas'ia Filippovna gradually increases her control over the text, and disrupts the narrator's attempts to tell the story of the positively beautiful man, the novel develops according to her refusal to define a single script and the attempts of the other characters, and in particular of the narrator, to resist her scripting. The pressure she brings to bear on the narrative, as she attains a level of power not granted to any other female character in Dostoevsky's oeuvre, allows her, when she finally comes to a decision regarding her script, to make her own denouement the denouement of the entire novel.
The Idiot (Idiot, 1868) is perhaps the strangest and most problematic of Dostoevsky's major fictional works, and over 130 years after the novel was published, it continues to vex and divide critics. It lacks an easily definable plot, and has a messy, ad hoc structure, in which an enormous temporal gap opens up and the central story and relationships are sidelined in favour of sub-plots, with major characters disappearing, while apparently unimportant ones become central. Its hero, who bears no resemblance to Dostoevsky's initial conception, has invited the most contradictory interpretations, and its narrator, who at the beginning of the novel appears omniscient and sympathetic to Myshkin, by the end resembles the embodied chronicler of The Devils (Besy, 1871–72) and spurns the hero. Its confusion on the structural and thematic levels has led to the suggestion that it ought not to work as a novel at all, yet it remains compelling and retains a curious unity. Dostoevsky's question, ‘Who is the Idiot? A terrible rogue or a mysterious ideal?’ (reference to PSS in end note here instead of note 4, with vol/page ref. IX, 195), applies just as much to the novel as a whole as to its hero.
The Idiot also appears to lack several features of the quintessential Dostoevskian novel. For example, doubles in The Idiot are far less well developed than in his other fiction, and of little significance on the thematic or structural levels.
While our difficulty in interpreting Nastas'ia Filippovna is primarily a result of her absence from the text, the figure of Prince Myshkin, in spite of his near-constant foregrounding in the narrative, proves equally problematic, as the contradictory interpretations of him discussed in the introduction attest. He is a complex creation, unknowable and indefinable, conceived as an ideal, but evidently falling some way short of being ‘Prince Christ’ (IX, 246, 249) in the final version of the novel. Another appellation in the notebook, the open-ended ‘The prince is a sphinx’ (IX, 248) is perhaps the best description of the hero, and the overriding problem of the novel is the question of how to solve the ‘riddle’ his character represents. The aim of this chapter is not to examine the character of Prince Myshkin as such, but to look beyond the traditional axis of the saintly and the malign, in order to see how his personality and vision changes. In order to establish why the prince's fate becomes so closely bound up with Nastas'ia Filippovna's, and the effect of this on his personality, this chapter will examine the foundations of his script and the ways in which it changes for the worse during the course of the novel, concentrating on Myshkin's vision of a ‘higher reality’, its origin in his epileptic fits, and its connections with his fundamental ideas (‘Compassion is the most important and the only law of human existence’; ‘humility is a terrible force’; ‘the world will be saved by beauty’; ‘there shall be time no longer’ (VIII, 192; 329; 317; 189)).
Jain Studios is a media software production company located in New Delhi. Set up in 1985, it has produced over one hundred political videos related to Parliamentary and Assembly elections in India as well as issue-based videos on campaigns and other events organized and staged for the purpose of mobilizing supporters for the Hindutva agenda. The president of the Studios is Dr Jinendra Kumar Jain, a medical doctor, ambitious and visionary businessman, and active supporter of Hindu cultural nationalism (Hindutva) in the 1980s and early 1990s. In political and ideological circles of India's capital Delhi, for the duration of those years, J K Jain and his studios were mostly known for their alliance with the nationalist Bharatiya Janata Party (Party of the Indian People; hereafter referred to as BJP) and other organizations related to the ideological body of Hindutva, all of which are subsumed under the umbrella of the Sangh Parivar. The ‘Sangh’, or association/brotherhood, is a pan-national network of affiliated organizations that functions on a variety of levels, such as parliamentary as well as non-parliamentary, educational, social and cultural activities. This complex infrastructure caters to a wide range of groups, interests and needs.
In the late 1980s and early 1990s in particular, the BJP—as the official political branch of the Sangh Parivar—had come to function as the major speaker and catalyst for a social movement taking place particularly in north and west India.
When and how will the worlds of form that have arisen in mechanics, in film, machine construction and the new physics, and that overpowered us without our being aware of it, make what is natural in them clear to us? When will the conditions of society be reached in which these forms or those that have arisen from them open themselves up to us as natural forms?
(Walter Benjamin, The Arcades Project)
Walter Benjamin's quotation addresses the role played by new audiovisual media in the construction of national identity, and the way in which the perception of individuals and groups in a society is influenced by modern technologies. Benjamin's comment is part of a large body of reflections accumulated in his Arcades Project, a montage on the rise and the ‘signatures’ of modern societies and public life in Europe in the context of popular culture, politics and capitalism at the turn of the nineteenth century. Naturally, his concern with production and distribution of various visual media demands to be read within the historical context from which it arose. Yet, despite today's very different technological, social and economic conditions, which impact on, and are shaped by, postmodern and postcolonial societies, Benjamin's concern with the relationships between actuality and virtuality, fantasy and rationality, and the complex invisible and visible strategies of ideological power that enhance ways of seeing and displaying, is still relevant.