Author: Anthony Mitchell

Anthony Mitchell

The Hidden God of Nature

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An Assessment of Fyodor Dostoevsky’s Christian Existentialism Through The Brothers Karamazov

All logical explanation escaped him as Alyosha fell to the Earth, compelled beyond that which dialogue can convey. Tears flowed endlessly from his face, a river signifying a new purpose to a distraught man. It was in this moment that Alyosha Karamazov was born. Mirroring the spiritual journey of his author, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Alyosha creates a framework of Christian existentialism, guiding his brothers through the suggested process of atonement and forgiveness. Existentialism is a desire to understand the human condition, a study of the external milieu that commands human action and thought. Soren Kierkegaard sought to understand humans beyond their “socially-imposed identities” and discover the crux of human existence (Kierkegaard, Stanford). In the mind of Dostoevsky, Alyosha soars closest to the ideal. Alyosha experiences virtue as otherworldly grace as he transitions from a cloistered monastic to a life among the mortals spreading the Word of God. If one approaches the text from a Christian point of view, it can be suggested that the lack of religion for Ivan and Dmitri Karamazov is just as fundamental and their relational identity to Alyosha, the moral compass of the family, informs their development as characters. While man is said to have been created in the image of God, Konstantin Mochulsky suggests that Dostoevsky lent aspects of himself to each of the Karamazovs. Through his works, Dostoevsky reflects that the time surrounding one’s physical presence is unceremoniously brief. In his eyes, man is born, man dies and the events thereto are out of mortal control. A hallmark of his major works, Dostoevsky seeks to lead his crucial characters toward salvation as Alyosha Karamazov exemplifies. Dostoevsky’s characters seek to formulate the “meaning of life”, diagrammed by Russian philosopher S.L. Frank decades after Dostoevsky. Dostoevsky carefully illuminates the traits of each character in The Brothers Karamazov separately, therefore mirroring his own spiritual journey and sense of existentialism. By attaching a quasi-autobiographical nature to each of the brothers in The Brothers Karamazov, Dostoevsky ensured that his work would remain relevant for anyone seeking spiritual guidance and to understand their place in the world.

The Radical Dostoevsky Through Dmitri Karamazov

Dmitri Karamazov shuddered at the thought, a hastened attempt at stemming the tide billowing from the servant Grigory’s head proving unsuccessful. This scene from the Brothers Karamazov best encapsulates the rash, too-decisive Dmitri because it places him in direct contrast to Alyosha. In this moment, Dostoevsky examines the psychological torment that instantaneously grips Dmitri, “Good heavens! What am I doing it for?” thought Mitya, suddenly pulling himself together…If I’ve killed him, I’ve killed him…You’ve come to grief, old man, so there you must lie!” he said aloud. (Dostoevsky, 361) In the days and perhaps most precisely, in the moments before Dmitri plans to kill his father, the abandoned Karamazov is bordering on confident but displays the conscience buried in his mental recesses when murder appears imminent. Through rushed attempts to clear any evidence, Dmitri allows his insanity to reach the forefront, a character device familiar to Dostoevsky, having explored the idea of a man drawn insane at the thought of murder in Crime and Punishment’s Rodion Raskolnikov. Prior to harboring patricidal ideation, Dmitri is the outcast of the Karamazov family. Tossed aside by his father, Fyodor, in favor of lecherous activity, Dmitri comes to live an existence on the fringes of familial life. Rather than embracing his son and viewing him in the same light as Alyosha and Ivan, Fyodor places Dmitri in the largely-nonexistent care of his servant, Grigory, foreshadowing the near-death act later in the novel. While his brothers find a religious center or a twisted sense of peace in rejecting spirituality in the name of illogical suffering, Dmitri is left to wander aimlessly without a true purpose.

As Dostoevsky was forming his worldview at a young age, he experienced the loss of a parent, not through the sense of reckless abandonment a la Dmitri Karamazov but through his mother’s death from tuberculosis. The period that immediately followed was one of growing discontent in a young man searching for a purpose including an ill-fated jaunt to military engineering school. As Konstantin Mochulsky writes, “Dostoevsky’s life at school became more agonizing with each passing day.” (Mochulsky, 18) Unable to realize what had become his inner sense of full potential, with a dead father living vicariously through him, Dostoevsky needed an escape. Much like Dmitri Karamazov, the writer was succumbing to his father’s shadow. While he had lived a sheltered childhood, religious pilgrimages as a family during Dostoevsky’s youth remained an enlightening presence in his mind, one that he would reflect upon in later writings, “That truly amazed and astonished me.” (Mochulsky, 8) Dostoevsky’s sense of existentialism can perhaps best be relayed by St. Dionysius – “…we offer worship to that which lies hidden beyond thought and beyond being.” (Medieval Philosophy, 156) St. Dionysius saw Christ as the origin of all sense and being and a young Dostoevsky captured that essence of mystery explained from a young age. Dostoevsky kept Christianity close to his soul late in life, carrying a well-worn Bible with him always and requesting the Parable of the Prodigal Son be read on his death bed. In crafting Dmitri as a character, Dostoevsky allows for a splintered existence from birth, which prevents Dmitri from clearly defining his purpose, in a spiritual or secular sense, an ability which was vital to the author.

In The Sickness unto Death, Kierkegaard writes that “the torment of this despair is precisely this inability to die.” (Kierkegaard, 354) Had Dmitri studied Kierkegaard, he would have related to Kierkegaard’s view of despair because it connects to his own story. Sigmund Freud posited that humans are consumed by the dual forces of life and death, Thanatos and Eros respectively. In Freud’s view, humans are wired to actively contribute to their own demise through aggression and self-destruction. The above quote from Kierkegaard relates and may hold the key to understanding Dmitri’s actions throughout the novel. A part of Dmitri figuratively died when left in the care of his father’s servant, Grigory, at a young age. Seeking to acquiesce his mind, Dmitri looks to enact revenge on his father. Dignposts for the reader… For Dmitri, his ‘personal repulsion was growing unendurable.” (Dostoevsky, 360) In Dmitri’s eyes, Fyodor Karamazov had betrayed his sons from birth, leaving the three brothers to fend for themselves, leaving a minor miracle in the relative righteousness displayed by Alyosha. When adding the competing love interest of Grushenka, Dmitri falls into a deep despair. While Kierkegaard describes the ability to despair as an “infinite advantage” as it separates the feeling, thinking man from animal, the way in which a man channels despair is key. For Dmitri, his despair quickly turns to rage towards an absentee father and the individuals caught in the unfortunate crosshairs. S.L. Frank would be wont to categorize Dmitri’s pursuit of revenge against his father as meaningless as Dmitri is acting solely out of human self-interest. As Frank says, “The meaning of our life must be within us; we ourselves by our own life must manifest this meaning.” (S.L. Frank, 83) Since Dmitri has not found meaning, or in a Frankian sense, has not embraced Christianity, he attempts to fill the void with bloodshed. On the inverse, Alyosha discovers meaning of life through religion and embraces the life-giving force, Thanatos, rather than succumbing to the destructive tendencies of Eros.

            In a less-vile sense, Dmitri echoes Dostoevsky’s early-radical period. Dostoevsky was seeking to manifest meaning out of life and in doing so, risked his own life by galivanting with the Petrashevsky Circle, individuals with whom he would have been repulsed earlier in life. Raised in a religious family, Dostoevsky questioned his belief system while involved with the Petrashevsky Circle, a group of radical progressives critical of the Russian government. In perhaps the most-important development for Dostoevsky’s sense of religion and virtue, he forged a close friendship with Vissarion Belinsky. Dostoevsky held a contentious opinion of Belinsky, an atheist literary critic, yet he convinced a young Fyodor to denounce his religious morals in favor of socialist ideals. In doing so, Dostoevsky nearly met his demise, relating him to Dmitri, for whom associating with Grushenka nearly leads to his death. Much like a young Dostoevsky wrestling between a Christian upbringing and the atheist ideas placed in front of him, Dmitri wages a war between love for Grushenka and hatred for his father. This idea is best expressed as Dmitri prepares to see Grushenka – “Where are you, my angel, where are you?’ He was fearfully agitated and breathless.” (Dostoevsky, 360) Dmitri is divided as he places the blame for his tense feeling partly on his father’s shoulders and partly to Grushenka. Dmitri’s end goal bares a resemblance to Freud’s Oedipus Complex. In the Oedipus Complex, a son desires an intimate relationship with his mother and to reach that goal, the father figure must be destroyed. Although rather than seeking to murder his father to pursue his mother as in Freud’s philosophy, Dmitri seeks to destroy his father to ideally win the affection of Grushenka, an oddly-stabilizing figure in his life. In these pages, Dmitri is painted as a raving lunatic, and while that is without a doubt a rational and just assessment, the pause before Dmitri acts against the unfortunate Grigory suggests a hint of a moral compass. Much like Dostoevsky warring with Belinsky as Belinsky sought to alter Dostoevsky’s steadfast belief in the divine, Dmitri is amid an internal struggle, balancing a deep-seated distrust of his father with the calming influence of his affection toward Grushenka. To call upon an idea from Frank, Grushenka represents the wholesome God figure while Fyodor plays the part of the Devil.

Dostoevsky Lost in Himself Through Ivan Karamazov

Dostoevsky’s sense of existentialism – much like the man himself – was evolving, therefore creating a chasm in a young mind. If Dmitri Karamazov represented Dostoevsky’s early life, seeking to rationalize a harsh world without a guide, Ivan Karamazov is the doppelganger for Dostoevsky’s middle period, firmly-entrenched in the socialist leanings of the Petrashevsky Circle that would ultimately lead to his downfall and subsequent rebirth. Dostoevsky turns self-reflective on this period of his life, with Ivan discussing the presence of a higher power – “Is there a God?” (Dostoevsky, 130). Ivan’s answer, rejecting the presence of the divine is one that would have been reasonable for Dostoevsky at this period to utter. Ivan struggles with religion stem from an ethical concern and question, in short, how can a merciful God allow believers to suffer? It is a dilemma that plagues Job in the Old Testament as a believer tested relentlessly by God. Ivan chooses to skip the trials in favor of simple resentment of religion. Not even the pleading of Fyodor Karamazov – “Ivan, and is there immorality of some sort, just a little, just a tiny bit?” (Dostoevsky, 130) can convince Ivan to believe. Given Alyosha Karamazov’s tendency to experience his faith, i.e. his depression and subsequent rebirth surrounding the death of Elder Zossima, faith can be seen for Ivan as a gift that he has yet to receive. Ivan’s rejection of the substance of religion calls to mind a 2019 study by the Pew Research Center that found millennials as nearly as likely not to identify with any religion as they are to identify as Christian. (Pew) While there are numerous interpretations of the preceding statement, it lends credibility to Ivan’s position. Ivan assumes a stance of “what can religion do for me?” and dismisses the entire idea. Of note, Ivan forms an atheistic worldview of his own accord rather than allowing another to sway his opinion.

            Ivan’s reluctance to expand on religious figures outside of simply stating his belief in their absence is telling. Despite Dostoevsky’s religious periods serving as a bookend for his life, his radical period left remnants that appear in his writing because of his portrayal of God as a character. In The Brothers Karamazov, Dostoevsky leaves little room for an agnostic worldview, allowing for the fierce belief of Alyosha Karamazov – and to a lesser, sinful sense, Fyodor Karamazov – or the steadfast refusal to accept the notion of a concrete higher power found in Ivan. P.H. Brazier writes that Dostoevsky “approaches the imago Christi apophatically – it is un-named.” (Brazier, 33) In a sense, Ivan is doing the sense despite his atheistic worldview, seeing the notion of God through what He is not. In Ivan’s view, God is not the savior of man, man holds the key to his own prosperity or failure. Ivan does not have the luxury of faith to guide his answer to existential questions, he resorts to a deeply-critical mind. The question of defining God flummoxed the most brilliant minds as Kierkegaard struggled to qualify an omnipotent being. “Let us call him a savior for he does indeed save the learner from unfreedom…Let us call him a deliverer, for he does indeed deliver the person who had imprisoned himself.” (Kierkegaard, 122) The indecisiveness in Kierkegaard’s mind to place a label on that which cannot be seen, only felt, is telling and explains the rapidity with which Ivan dispels the idea of religion. Without the need to rationalize faith in and of itself, Ivan quickly responds to the idea of an Anti-Christ, “No, there’s no Devil either.” (Dostoevsky, 130) It is the way that a young Dostoevsky, trapped under Belinsky’s spell might have responded – a Devil cannot exist because Christ does not exist. The idea of a dual ideological black hole containing both Christ and Anti-Christ explains Dostoevsky’s reluctance to name his God figure.

            Ivan’s character development is informed as much by non-belief as it by belief. Dostoevsky was reluctant to embrace the ideology of Belinsky and others in the Petrashevsky Circle because it was akin to a rejection of his upbringing. Celebrated Dostoevsky biographer Joseph Frank dedicated two chapters of his biography Dostoevsky: A Writer in His Time to the relationship between Dostoevsky and Belinsky and Frank writes that “Belinsky was the ideological mentor responsible for having placed Dostoevsky’s feet on the path leading to Siberia.” (Joseph Frank, 119) Frank’s language in his assessment of Dostoevsky’s view of their relationship is important as it suggests an air of inevitability to Dostoevsky’s eventual imprisonment and servitude. In claiming that Belinsky was responsible for Dostoevsky’s actions in this period, Frank suggests that Dostoevsky was incapable of unique thought, that Belinsky had infiltrated Dostoevsky’s mind to such an extent that intelligent thought – from a novelistic heavyweight, no less – was impossible. And perhaps there is some truth to Frank’s assessment, given Dostoevsky’s sudden shift ideologically in terms of religion and philosophy, to a supporter of socialism. For Ivan to be surrounded by religion among his family and stay firm in his belief – or non-belief – regarding Christianity allows for a unique perspective into Elder Zossima, the devout equivalent to Belinsky, a mentor and source of guidance for the Karamazov family.

            Relaying a treatise on the unconscious mind decades before the study would come to prominence, Ivan’s seismic shift in a religious sense comes through the inverted lucidity of a nightmare. Dostoevsky’s atheistic period came to a quick halt, not of his own doing but because of the threat of impending death. With the Petrashevsky Circle commanding the attention of the Russian government for literary discussions that skirted along the realm of dangerous ideology in the eyes of Tsar Nicholas I, Dostoevsky was staring into the cold barrel of a gun, literally and figuratively. The yet-to-be renowned author was at a crossroads between being and nonbeing as he stood before the firing squad at St. Petersburg’s Semyonovsky Square. Martin Heidigger considered the concept of being “Dasein” and it connects Dostoevsky’s change of worldview as he was near-death. Heidigger writes that “Only Dasein returns everything into focus…we begin to clearly differentiate what is around us, what we are, and what seemed like mere spots to us earlier…” (Heidigger, 292) It is an image that Dostoevsky would elucidate on numerous occasions in his writing but perhaps none more striking than The Idiot’s Prince Myshkin asking for a drawing of a man condemned to death by guillotine. But rather than requesting the entire scene, Prince Myshkin requests the face, giving a full view of the terror that awaits. Mochulsky writes of this scene, “Through this visual image the horror of death, the agony of a soul is conveyed.” (Mochulsky, 145) The agony deep in the recesses of Dostoevsky’s soul came to the forefront as he faced near-certain death and quickly turned to relief when his life was spared. The sensation is similar to that felt by Ivan, stricken with what Dostoevsky describes as “brain fever” as Dmitri’s trial approaches. With his nerves fraying, Ivan experiences a rudimentary spiritual birth, with Satan appearing to him, appropriately in a nightmare. And Ivan’s reaction is key. A frustrated, exasperated Ivan asks, “Is there a God or not?” (Dostoevsky, 584) While Satan replies in true fashion that he can not prove the existence of God – as much a question of existentialism as a potential commentary on the Harrowing of Hell, the Biblical account of Jesus’ descent into Hell to provide salvation for all who had died prior to Christianity – the reader begins to see the spiritual “wheels” turning inside Ivan’s mind. While the conscious Ivan is a steadfast atheist, the unconscious Ivan belies a man struggling to reconcile his previous beliefs with the tug of Alyosha and a family desperately attempting to clear its name.

            Dostoevsky’s view of existentialism at this time can best by described as one of suffering. Through the Petrashevsky Circle, Dostoevsky discovered intellectual fulfillment through an outlet for his literary passions but rarely found philosophical fulfillment because of the vast ideological differences present between himself and the rest of the group. A man largely lost in the world when he arrived in St. Petersburg, Dostoevsky had been seeking a companion who could be considered a literary equal and while Belinsky held the stature to which Dostoevsky aspired, the relationship quickly dissolved due to published critiques of Dostoevsky’s work. Joseph Frank hypothesizes that a survey of Russian literature in which Belinsky attacked his newly-minted socialist mentee provided the suffering, “…we can glimpse Belinsky’s suspicion that Dostoevsky’s work was moving in a direction opposed to the one he would have wished him to follow.” (Joseph Frank, 97) Dostoevsky’s lived experience at this moment in time meant to live life was to suffer. He had abandoned his religious convictions in the name of literary connections only to find a false support system. Dostoevsky applies an inherent sense of suffering to Ivan from the first mention of his name, an inexplicable meeting with his father, “What does he want here? Every one can see that he hasn’t come for money, for his father would never give him any.” (Dostoevsky, 24) In doing so, Dostoevsky sews a sense of distrust into Ivan. While Dostoevsky’s suffering from the Petrashevsky Circle was purely mental at this time, it would lead to physical suffering soon enough.

Ivan wrestles with a similar suffering and his nightmare scenario both metaphorically and in his unconscious involves a reckoning of his belief system, whether a belief in non-belief religiously or accepting Christ into his heart and mind. While his mind races outside of conscious control, Ivan is forced to face an uncomfortable question for anyone, let alone someone who has argued against the presence of a dutiful higher power for much of his life. Simply put, Ivan must answer a question at the core of existentialist thought, “Why am I here?” In a moment of clever symbolism, Dostoevsky positions a Devil figure as the one seeking an answer to personify the torment facing Ivan spiritually. Posing a similar question to that raised by Fyodor Karamazov in asking Ivan to speculate on the existence of God, Dostoevsky attempts to gain a confession on Satan – “Not for one minute,’ cried Ivan furiously. ‘But I should like to believe in you,’ he added strangely.” (Dostoevsky, 586) Through this sequence, Ivan demonstrates a willingness to break free from his secular shackles and form a religious belief system but is constrained by his past.

A Saved Man: Dostoevsky and Alyosha Karamazov

Alyosha Karamazov’s soul quaked as it cleansed, a mortal man one with the Heavens and the stars, unable to understand the sensation yet realizing that perhaps he was not meant to comprehend it. Alyosha’s sensation of transfigurational virtue forces him to reconsider his monastic purpose and is Dostoevsky at his most clairvoyant because it is echoes his own lived experience. Stripped of his spiritual mentor, Elder Zossima, and forced to endure what are in his mind, baseless attacks on the divine worth of his father figure, Alyosha was left confounded. In a moment of spiritual clarity with bended knee, appreciating God’s Creation, Alyosha realizes the intent behind Elder Zossima’s words, urging him away from the monastery and into a mission providing salvation for Russia at large. “He longed to forgive every one and for everything, and to beg forgiveness. Oh, not for himself, but for all men for all and for everything.” (Dostoevsky, 332) When Alyosha rises from the dirt, he is a changed man looking to save Russia from itself through the Word of God. As S.L. Frank writes, “Do we not already see that many Russians, having despaired at finding a resolution to the meaning of life, are succumbing to spiritual stupor and inertia and devoting themselves to the banal task of earning their daily bread?” (S.L. Frank, 9) Elder Zossima recognized the purity that courses through Alyosha without corruption from the scandalous reputation of his family name and Alyosha senses the meaning of his life, breaking Russia from a ‘spiritual stupor’. It is a spiritual stupor in which Dostoevsky finds himself after having his life spared in St. Petersburg. While years of exile and hard labor followed, Dostoevsky was forever changed by his near-death experience. Mochulsky references a letter that Dostoevsky penned mere hours after his life was spared to describe immediate and lasting impact of coming face-to-face with the culmination of his life. “Now, upon changing my life, I am being born again in a new form. Brother! I swear to you I will not lose hope and will preserve my heart and my spirit in purity.” (Mochulsky, 141-142) Rather than slowly losing his sense of self in the Petrashevsky Circle, Dostoevsky transferred that outlook to his writing, allowing for an inner purity outside of his novels.

            Alyosha spoke in reverence of his spiritual rededication, declaring that “Some one visited my soul in that hour…” (Dostoevsky, 332) Whether the “Some one” in question in Christ himself or the closest representation that Alyosha can call to mind, the recently-departed Elder Zossima, is irrelevant because the sentiment of his thought is the same. Christ and Elder Zossima each play an important role in The Brothers Karamazov and in Dostoevsky’s work in full according to Wil van den Bercken. Van den Bercken writes that “…non-judgementalism is fundamental to Dostoevsky’s presentation of Christianity.” (Van den Bercken, 64). Van den Bercken adds another observation that is central to Alyosha’s view of Christianity, “…the realization that one is guilty for everything and everybody. And from this flows God’s forgiveness for everyone and everything.” (Van den Bercken, 64) To say that Alyosha is never tempted to succumb to the evils that befall his family would be inaccurate but he represents the closest persona of a saintly figure among the Karamazov family. Whereas others under the Karamazov name denounce religion, engage in lustful affairs or at worst, come perilously close to murder, Alyosha willingly owns the idea of original sin and seeks to atone for the sin of man by spreading the Word of God. That sentiment serves to explain Alyosha’s sentence in welcoming a visitor to his “soul” rather than to himself in a completely-secular sense.

            While exiled in Siberia, Dostoevsky received perhaps the most-important gift of his life, a copy of the New Testament from a group in support of the Decembrist revolts, a movement in opposition to the ascension of Tsar Nicholas I to the Russian throne. As Tsar Nicholas I had been the culprit behind Dostoevsky’s sentencing to Siberia, the recently-changed man read from the book religiously, creating the foundation for not only his greatest literary achievements but his renewed meaning and thirst of life. Alyosha’s realization of his renewed sense of purpose comes in a similarly-abrupt fashion. As Dostoevsky writes, “Within three days he left the monastery in accordance with the words of his elder, who had bidden him “sojourn into the world.” (Dostoevsky, 332) Without an ability to confide in Elder Zossima and use his teachings for guidance, Alyosha’s apprehension in leaving the monastery dissolves, realizing that guiding those who have lost their way spiritually is his true purpose rather than quiet contemplation of scripture.

            Much like Ivan, Alyosha’s spiritual reawakening comes in a dream sequence. But rather than the Devil figure that haunts Ivan’s dream, forcing him to confront his bubbling faith, Alyosha sees Elder Zossima calling for him. “Why have you hidden yourself here, out of sight? You come and join us too.” (Dostoevsky, 331) Given that the dream sequence involves Cana of Galilee, the invitation from Elder Zossima represents Alyosha’s spiritual standing if he possesses the courage to see it. Dostoevsky came to terms with his own spiritual standing as he progressed through later life, keeping his copy of the New Testament close by always.

Conclusion

At his heart, Fyodor Dostoevsky was a complex individual. To understand his place among the greats not solely in Russian literature but to world literature in its entirely, one must understand the man behind the writing. Journeying from a spiritual adolescence to a concerted break from the pressures of his monastic longing before finding his center again in the pages of a well-worn New Testament, Dostoevsky draws on his evolving sense of existentialism throughout The Brothers Karamazov. While each brother harbors a different sense of self, Alyosha, Ivan and Dmitri parallel a period in the evolution of a writer and man. Together, they create one cohesive meaning of life. As he lived and died by his Bible, it is fitting that a Bible verse – John 12:24 – adorns Dostoevsky’s headstone. “Verily, verily, I say unto you except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone; but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit.” (King James Bible New Testament, 134) In a Dostoevskian sense, one must experience an event that allows to understand their place in the world and appreciate the fragility of life to find the meaning of life for themselves as the three Karamazov brothers ultimately do.

Works Cited (in order of appearance)

Dostoyevsky, Fyodor, et al. The Brothers Karamazov. Barnes & Noble, 2004.

Foltz, Bruce V., et al. Medieval Philosophy: a Multicultural Reader. Bloomsbury Academic, 2019.

McDonald, William. “Søren Kierkegaard.” Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, Stanford University, 10 Nov. 2017, plato.stanford.edu/entries/kierkegaard/.

Mochulsky, Konstantin. Dostoevsky ; His Life and Work: Translated and Introduction by Michael A. Minihan. Princeton University Press, 1967.

Hong, Howard V., and Edna H. Hong, editors. The Essential Kierkegaard. Princeton University Press, 1980. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctt24hpd3. Accessed 4 Dec. 2020.

Frank, S. L. The Meaning of Life. W.B. Eerdmans Pub. Co., 2010.

Cooperman, Alan. “In U.S., Decline of Christianity Continues at Rapid Pace.” Pew Research Center’s Religion & Public Life Project, 9 June 2020, www.pewforum.org/2019/10/17/in-u-s-decline-of-christianity-continues-at-rapid-pace/.

Brazier, P.H. Dostoevsky: A Theological Engagement. 1st ed., The Lutterworth Press, 2016. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctvhrd1mv. Accessed 4 Dec. 2020.

Frank, Joseph. Dostoevsky: A Writer in His Time. Edited by Mary Petrusewicz, Princeton University Press, 2010. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctt7t0bx. Accessed 4 Dec. 2020.

Dugin, Alexander. Martin Heidigger: The Philosophy of Another Beginning. Washington Summit Publish, 2014.

“The Spirituality of the Monk Zosima in The Brothers Karamazov.” Christian Fiction and Religious Realism in the Novels of Dostoevsky, by Wil Van den Bercken, Anthem Press, London; New York; Delhi, 2011, pp. 63–82. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctt1gxp7hv.9. Accessed 4 Dec. 2020.

Carroll, Robert P., and Stephen Prickett. The Bible: Authorized King James Version with Apocrypha. Oxford University Press, 2008.

All logical explanation escaped him as Alyosha fell to the Earth, compelled beyond that which dialogue can convey. Tears flowed endlessly from his face, a river signifying a new purpose to a distraught man. It was in this moment that Alyosha Karamazov was born. Mirroring the spiritual journey of his author, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Alyosha creates a framework of Christian existentialism, guiding his brothers through the suggested process of atonement and forgiveness. Existentialism is a desire to understand the human condition, a study of the external milieu that commands human action and thought. Soren Kierkegaard sought to understand humans beyond their “socially-imposed identities” and discover the crux of human existence (Kierkegaard, Stanford). In the mind of Dostoevsky, Alyosha soars closest to the ideal. Alyosha experiences virtue as otherworldly grace as he transitions from a cloistered monastic to a life among the mortals spreading the Word of God. If one approaches the text from a Christian point of view, it can be suggested that the lack of religion for Ivan and Dmitri Karamazov is just as fundamental. While man is said to have been created in the image of God, Konstantin Mochulsky suggests that Dostoevsky lent aspects of himself to each of the Karamazovs. Through his works, Dostoevsky reflects that the time surrounding one’s physical presence is unceremoniously brief. In his eyes, man is born, man dies and the events thereto are out of mortal control. A hallmark of his major works, Dostoevsky seeks to lead his crucial characters toward salvation as Alyosha Karamazov exemplifies. Dostoevsky carefully illuminates the traits of each character in The Brothers Karamazov separately, therefore mirroring his own spiritual journey and sense of existentialism.

The Radical Dostoevsky Through Dmitri Karamazov

Dmitri Karamazov shuddered at the thought, a hastened attempt at stemming the tide billowing from the servant Grigory’s head proving unsuccessful. This scene from the Brothers Karamazov best encapsulates the rash, too-decisive Dmitri. Prior to harboring patricidal ideation, Dmitri is the outcast of the Karamazov family. Tossed aside by his father, Fyodor, in favor of lecherous activity, Dmitri comes to live an existence on the fringes of familial life. Explain fort-da…Follow up on Dostoevsky as Christian existentialist. Rather than embracing his son and viewing him in the same light as Alyosha and Ivan, Fyodor places Dmitri in the largely-nonexistent care of his servant, Grigory, foreshadowing the near-death act later in the novel. While his brothers find a religious center or a twisted sense of peace in rejecting spirituality in the name of illogical suffering, Dmitri is left to wander aimlessly without a true purpose.

As Dostoevsky was forming his worldview at a young age, he experienced the loss of a parent, not through the sense of reckless abandonment a la Dmitri Karamazov but through his mother’s death from tuberculosis. The period that immediately followed was one of growing discontent in a young man searching for a purpose including an ill-fated jaunt to military engineering school. As Konstantin Mochulsky writes, “Dostoevsky’s life at school became more agonizing with each passing day.” (Mochulsky, 18) Unable to realize what had become his inner sense of full potential, with a dead father living vicariously through him, Dostoevsky needed an escape. Much like Dmitri Karamazov, the writer was succumbing to his father’s shadow. While he had lived a sheltered childhood, religious pilgrimages as a family during Dostoevsky’s youth remained an enlightening presence in his mind, one that he would reflect upon in later writings, “That truly amazed and astonished me.” (Mochulsky, 8) Dostoevsky’s sense of existentialism can perhaps best be relayed by St. Dionysius – “…we offer worship to that which lies hidden beyond thought and beyond being.” (Medieval Philosophy, 156) St. Dionysius saw Christ as the origin of all sense and being and a young Dostoevsky captured that essence of mystery explained from a young age. Dostoevsky kept Christianity close to his soul late in life, carrying a well-worn Bible with him always and requesting the Parable of the Prodigal Son be read on his death bed. In crafting Dmitri as a character, Dostoevsky allows for a splintered existence from birth, which prevents Dmitri from clearly defining his purpose, in a spiritual or secular sense, an ability which was vital to the author.

In The Sickness unto Death, Kierkegaard writes that “the torment of this despair is precisely this inability to die.” (Sickness Unto Death, Kierkegaard, 354) As humans, we come to realize a fault in our mental faculties but are left powerless to assess it. It is beyond our understanding. In a Freudian sense of seeking death, the human is consumed by the dual forces of life and death, Thanatos and Eros in Freudian parlance. The above quote from Kierkegaard may hold the key to understanding Dmitri’s actions throughout the novel. A part of Dmitri figuratively died when left in the care of his father’s servant, Grigory, at a young age. Seeking to acquiesce his mind, Dmitri looks to enact revenge on his father. Dignposts for the reader… For Dmitri, his ‘personal repulsion was growing unendurable.” (Brothers Karamazov, 360) In Dmitri’s eyes, Fyodor Karamazov had betrayed his sons from birth, leaving the three brothers to fend for themselves, leaving a minor miracle in the relative righteousness displayed by Alyosha. When adding the competing love interest of Grushenka, Dmitri falls into a deep despair. While Kierkegaard describes the ability to despair as an “infinite advantage” as it separates the feeling, thinking man from animal, the way in which a man channels despair is key. For Dmitri, his despair quickly turns to rage towards an absentee father and the individuals caught in the unfortunate crosshairs. S.L. Frank would be wont to categorize Dmitri’s pursuit of revenge against his father as meaningless as Dmitri is acting solely out of human self-interest. As Frank says, “The meaning of our life must be within us; we ourselves by our own life must manifest this meaning.” (Frank, 83) Since Dmitri has not found meaning, or in a Frankian sense, has not embraced Christianity, he attempts to fill the void with bloodshed.

            In a less-vile sense, Dmitri echoes Dostoevsky’s early-radical period. Dostoevsky was seeking to manifest meaning out of life and in doing so, risked his own life by galivanting with the Petrashevsky Circle, individuals with whom he would have been repulsed earlier in life. Raised in a religious family, Dostoevsky questioned his belief system while involved with the Petrashevsky Circle, a group of radical progressives critical of the Russian government. In perhaps the most-important development for Dostoevsky’s sense of religion and virtue, he forged a close friendship with Vissarion Belinsky. Dostoevsky held a contentious opinion of Belinsky, an atheist literary critic, yet he convinced a young Fyodor to denounce his religious morals in favor of socialist ideals. In doing so, Dostoevsky nearly met his demise, relating him to Dmitri, for whom associating with Grushenka nearly leads to his death. Much like a young Dostoevsky wrestling between a Christian upbringing and the atheist ideas placed in front of him, Dmitri wages a war between love for Grushenka and hatred for his father. This idea is best expressed as Dmitri prepares to see Grushenka – “Where are you, my angel, where are you?’ He was fearfully agitated and breathless.” (Dostoevsky, 360) Dmitri is divided as he places the blame for his tense feeling partly on his father’s shoulders and partly to Grushenka. Dmitri’s end goal bares a resemblance to Freud’s Oedipus Complex. In the Oedipus Complex, a son desires an intimate relationship with his mother and to reach that goal, the father figure must be destroyed. Although rather than seeking to murder his father to pursue his mother as in Freud’s philosophy, Dmitri seeks to destroy his father to ideally win the affection of Grushenka, an oddly-stabilizing figure in his life. In these pages, Dmitri is painted as a raving lunatic, and while that is without a doubt a rational and just assessment, the pause before Dmitri acts against the unfortunate Grigory suggests a hint of a moral compass. Much like Dostoevsky warring with Belinsky as Belinsky sought to alter Dostoevsky’s steadfast belief in the divine, Dmitri is amid an internal struggle, balancing a deep-seated distrust of his father with the calming influence of his affection toward Grushenka. To call upon an idea from Frank, Grushenka represents the wholesome God figure while Fyodor plays the part of the Devil.

Dostoevsky Lost in Himself Through Ivan Karamazov

Dostoevsky’s sense of existentialism – much like the man himself – was evolving, therefore creating a chasm in a young mind. If Dmitri Karamazov represented Dostoevsky’s early life, seeking to rationalize a harsh world without a guide, Ivan Karamazov is the doppelganger for Dostoevsky’s middle period, firmly-entrenched in the socialist leanings of the Petrashevsky Circle that would ultimately lead to his downfall and subsequent rebirth. Dostoevsky turns self-reflective on this period of his life, with Ivan discussing the presence of a higher power – “Is there a God?” (Dostoevsky, 130). Ivan’s answer, rejecting the presence of the divine is one that would have been reasonable for Dostoevsky at this period to utter. Ivan struggles with religion stem from an ethical concern and question, in short, how can a merciful God allow believers to suffer? It is a dilemma that plagues Job in the Old Testament as a believer tested relentlessly by God. Ivan chooses to skip the trials in favor of simple resentment of religion. Not even the pleading of Fyodor Karamazov – “Ivan, and is there immorality of some sort, just a little, just a tiny bit?” (130) can convince Ivan to believe.

Alyosha Karamazov was one with the ground, kissing the Earth as he wept. Alyosha represents an important moral compass for the Karamazov family, in relation to the rash, animalistic Dmitri and the atheistic Ivan. Mirroring the spiritual journey of his author, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Alyosha creates a framework of Christian existentialism, guiding his brothers through the suggested process of atonement and forgiveness. Through the works of Dostoevsky, S.L. Frank and Soren Kierkegaard, the essay that follows will examine the lives and actions of the Karamazov family through a Christian existentialist lens. Alyosha experiences virtue as otherworldly grace as he transitions from a cloistered monastic to a life among the mortals spreading the Word of God. While man is said to have been created in the image of God, Konstantin Mochulsky suggests that Dostoevsky lent aspects of himself to each of the Karamazovs. Dostoevsky carefully illuminates the traits of each character separately, therefore mirroring his own spiritual journey and sense of existentialism.

Dmitri Karamazov shuddered at the thought, a hastened attempt at stemming the tide billowing from the servant Grigory’s head proving unsuccessful. This scene from the Brothers Karamazov best encapsulates the rash, too-decisive Dmitri. Prior to harboring patricidal ideation, Dmitri is the outcast of the Karamazov family. Tossed aside by his father, Fyodor, in favor of seedy activity, Dmitri comes to live an existence similar to that of Sigmund Freud’s “fort-da” game. Although rather than Dmitri’s father reeling him back into the family, Fyodor places Dmitri in the lousy care of his servant, Grigory, foreshadowing the near-death act later in the novel. While his brothers find a religious center or a twisted sense of peace in rejecting spirituality in the name of illogical suffering, Dmitri is left on the fringes to wander aimlessly without a true purpose. As Dostoevsky was forming his worldview at a young age, he experienced the loss of a parent, not through the sense of reckless abandonment a la Dmitri Karamazov but through his mother’s death from tuberculosis. The period that immediately followed was one of growing discontent in a young man searching for a purpose including an ill-fated jaunt to military engineering school. As Konstantin Mochulsky writes, “Dostoevsky’s life at school became more agonizing with each passing day.” (Mochulsky, 18) Unable to realize what had become his inner sense of full potential, with a dead father living vicariously through him, Dostoevsky needed an escape. Much like Dmitri Karamazov, the writer was succumbing to his father’s shadow.

Alyosha Karamazov was one with the ground, kissing the Earth as he wept. Alyosha represents an important moral compass for the Karamazov family, in relation to the rash, animalistic Dmitri and the atheistic Ivan. Mirroring the spiritual journey of his author, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Alyosha creates a framework of Christian existentialism, guiding his brothers through the suggested process of atonement and forgiveness. Through the works of Dostoevsky, S.L. Frank and Soren Kierkegaard, the essay that follows will examine the lives and actions of the Karamazov family through a Christian existentialist lens. Alyosha experiences virtue as otherworldly grace as he transitions from a cloistered monastic to a life among the mortals spreading the Word of God. While man is said to have been created in the image of God, Konstantin Mochulsky suggests that Dostoevsky lent aspects of himself to each of the Karamazovs.

Enthymeme thesis: Dostoevsky carefully illuminates the traits of each character separately, therefore mirroring his own spiritual journey and sense of existentialism.

Sources

• The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoevsky
  • Focus chapters: Book 3, Chapter 8 (Over the Brandy); Book 5, Chapter 5 (The Grand Inquisitor); Book 6, Chapter 2 (Notes on the Life of the Deceased Priest and Monk)
• Dostoevsky: His Life and Works by Konstantin Mochulsky
• The Meaning of Life by S.L. Frank
• The King James Bible
• “From Post-Apophatic Theology to Minimal Religion”, Mikhail Epstein
• “Kierkegaard and the Early Church on Christian Knowledge and its Existential Implications”, M.G. Piety

When discussing S.L. Frank’s idea of the meaninglessness of life, it is easy to draw a parallel to Dostoevsky’s novels. As Dostoevsky routinely features a broken individual as a main character, one can look to Dmitri Karamazov in The Brothers Karamazov. Dmitri shares a character trait with Crime and Punishment’s Rodion Raskolnikov and the unnamed narrator in Notes from the Underground as a man left to cope on the fringes of society. But perhaps ‘cope’ would be an ill-advised phrase as Dmitri almost immediately begins plotting his revenge against the father who abandoned him in pursuit of his sordid interests.

In the Karamazov family, religion is a consistent point of contention, given Alyosha’s devout standing in the monastery even he grapples with the best way through which to spread the Word. Dmitri and Ivan nearly-completely reject the idea of anything beyond their mortal being and without a familial fabric to tie them together, Dmitri wanders aimlessly through his deranged existence. That deranged existence comes to a head – literally – as Grigory intervenes in his one-track plans. While Dmitri commits the fateful act against Grigory that sets in motion the events that lead to his downfall, it creates an odd paradox for Dmitri, one that Dostoevsky is quite keen on exploring. By showing an unwillingness or inability to control his anger, Dmitri exhibits his view of life as meaningless. Dmitri does not pause to consider any consequences of his actions – he simply acts and his mental faculties struggle to catch his body. However, the immediate attempt by Dmitri to hopelessly care for Grigory, a man whom five seconds prior he intended to murder – is telling. The pause in Dmitri’s sinister mind suggests a slight sense of remorse for his actions. In a sense, perhaps Dmitri considers only his own life to be meaningless and it would be difficult to fault him for that view.

Much in the same way that Raskolnikov attempts to destroy the evidence of his crime by stuffing his blood-soaked clothes out of sight, Dmitri attempts to do the same with the blood-soaked handkerchief he used in tending to Grigory. His eventual inability to hide his crimes leads to what amounts to a confession, “I accept my punishment, not because I killed him, but because I meant to kill him, and perhaps I really might have killed him.” (465) The uncertain response from a tired Dmitri shows his eroding mental state, another staple of Dostoevsky’s works. Dmitri had little regard for human life in committing murder and he shows little regard for his own life. Life for Dmitri has become fully meaningless.

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe claimed to have experienced only a few days of pure happiness in his life. If he, seemingly a favorite of S.L. Frank, was only truly happy in short bursts as the “favorite of fortune”, how can anyone hope to be happy?

Frank describes humans as “slaves of blind fate” (41). We can take action attempting to alter the course of our lives and create happiness but we are in essence, limited by our mortality as humans. We are not divine creatures and cannot hope to be. Frank brings a view that seems decidedly bleak to the discussion on happiness, one of unintended but ever-present misery. In essence, there is no room in the universe for jovial thoughts as it has no impact on the world. Our fate has been predetermined before we are born and while we may act to prolong our fate, it will eventually reach its conclusion. Frank ascribes this theory to ancient Greek philosophy but the dismal worldview is eerily Dostoevskian.

Dostoevsky made his career out of analyzing the darkest recesses of the human mind and spirit in a literary form. Crime and Punishment and Notes from the Underground both feature a main character that can be best described as a raving lunatic and The Brothers Karamazov follows that same path even if Fyodor Dostoevsky isn’t “the” main character. The reader can see glimpses of the darkness of human existence through The Brothers Karamazov including during Ivan’s poem, “The Grand Inquisitor”. By the end, the poem has left Alyosha rambling, seeking as best as he can to fire off his many positive and negative thoughts on the gripping yet insane poem and what it may reveal about Ivan. Ivan summarizes the fleeting desire for happiness and contentment thusly, “For the secret of man’s being is not only to live but to have something to live for.” (236) As Frank would say, we are looking for life’s meaning to not fall prey to our existence as a squirrel in the wheel, a cog in the machine. Frank was viewing the source of life’s happiness through a religious lens while Ivan, an atheist, is having to confront the idea of religion through his interactions with Alyosha. Ivan’s religious beliefs, or a lack thereof depending on your placement of atheism, may also explain his characterization of The Grand Inquistor as a miserable soul. Rather than painting The Grand Inquisitor as happy, or even seeking happiness, Ivan paints him as an enemy of Jesus. Certainly, Dostoevsky was a tortured individual but it is odd for such an anti-religious passage to be in the book of someone who was a devout Christian at the time of writing Brothers.

Anthony Mitchell

The Hidden God of Nature

Siewers

Fishing for Otherworldly Grace

In Izaak Walton’s The Compleat Angler, a seminal fishing guide turned prophetic blueprint for a sincere Christian existence, the Piscator serves as something of a mouthpiece for a righteous lifestyle. While it may appear at first glance that the lengthy religious diatribes and domination of dialogue serve to alienate the other characters, it becomes clear that the Piscator’s role is that of a spiritual mentor. Through a close analysis of Walton’s work along with selections from philosophical texts and the King James version of The Bible, I will argue that the Piscator follows the Christian tradition of a Man of God serving as a leader, both in body and spirit. In doing so, I will examine the hagiographical bend to the Piscator and the transfigurational virtue present in the main character in relation to scripture analytically both through philosophy and in the Bible itself. By examining the Piscator’s vast scriptural knowledge through his lengthy discussion of life in the Biblical arena, his Saintly task of patiently relaying the intricacies of fishing and his Christ-like Feeding of the Multitudes, Piscator becomes something of a divine stand-in. Piscator personifies a Protestant sense of sainthood in exhibiting a sense of otherworldly grace.

The Restrained Piscator, or a Fish in Water

Despite his successes, Piscator displays temperance by sharing his talents as an angler to benefit those around him. In assisting the Venator to catch a fish, Piscator’s lessons extend beyond the simple act and into the Saintly virtue of temperance. While the term may typically be used in reference to self-restraint from vices – alcohol, promiscuity and the like – the Piscator exhibits self-restraint through his willingness to provide his time and ability for the Venator’s benefit and that of his companions. While each of Walton’s characters have a specialized skill, either for hunting or falconry or angling, Walton explores the angling hegemony, underlining the relationship between Piscator and Venator through the terms Master and Scholar. While fishing, we see an end to the loquacious Piscator, and a start of the restrained, calm Piscator – “Well, scholar, you must endure worse luck sometime, or you will never make a good angler.” (71) Rather than resort to a sermon on the philosophical and spiritual meaning of angling, Piscator assumes the role of a teacher, guiding Venator through the task of catching a fish. In response to the Venator’s mounting frustration at his inability to hook a fish, Piscator echoes 1 Thessalonians 5:6, “Therefore let us not sleep, as do others; but let us watch and be sober.” Piscator considers it a goal to share his wisdom on life and angling and displays a willingness to teach calmly through Venator’s frustrations.

In sharing Venator’s catch, gained with his guidance, Piscator eschews selfishness in the name of retaining his Saintly ways. Rather than keep the fruits of his labor for the two parties directly involved, the Piscator aims to extend gratitude by dividing the catch – a “lusty one of nineteen inches long” – with Peter and Coridon. Echoing the Feeding of the Multitudes as told in the Gospels, Piscator allows for one fish to feed everyone involved – “Nay, Brother, you shall not stay long, for, look you! Here is a trout will fill six reasonable bellies.” (81) Seeking to teach through action rather than dialogue, Piscator is eager to divide one fish among all involved. In doing so, Piscator makes a concerted break from the competitive aspect of his dialogue with Venator and Auceps which dominates the early portion of the novel to a more-wholesome persona. Rather than creating a case for the holiness of angling in opposition to the sudden destruction of hunting and the mundanity of falconry, through his assistance of Venator, Piscator resorts to the spiritual nature of angling. Walton hints at the growing Saintly reputation of Piscator through dialogue in reference to Coridon, “…he is a downright witty companion, that met me here purposely to be pleasant and eat a Trout…” (81) Given the religious connotation of dividing a single trout among the four men and the virtuous notions that follow in the immediate aftermath, it can be inferred that some form of religious discussion took place between the four men. As he exhibited in the opening chapters, Piscator is all-too-willing to relay a sermon rife with scriptural references and while Walton seemingly leaves dialogue missing – perhaps intentionally – it would be well within the realm of possibility for Piscator to give a Saintly sermon during dinner.

While in the company of Peter and Coridon, Piscator experiences something of a sea change in his saintly outlook. Enjoying his life’s pastime, both in spirit and in bodily fulfillment, Piscator bears a passing resemblance to St. Athanasius. St. Athanasius exhibited a patience in his counsel that resulted in his stature as a trusted voice to the ancient peoples of Alexandria. “He subjected himself in sincerity to the good men whom he visited, and learned thoroughly where each surpassed him in zeal and discipline.” (Newman, 21) Much in the same way in which St. Athanasius viewed every person who sought his wisdom individually, Piscator begins to view Venator, Peter and Coridon in a similar light. Venator is the humble scholar, seeking Piscator’s guidance on life and the divine through the tangible guise of angling. Peter serves as Piscator’s spiritual equal through the double meaning of “Brother” given Piscator’s religious leanings and Coridon is a willing disciple to both men. St. Athanasius practiced temperance daily in his devotion to God – “He kept vigil to such an extent that he often continued the whole night without sleep; and this not once but often, to the marvel of others.” (Newman, 24) While Piscator does not devote himself to his guests in quite the same manner, his duty in providing for others in sustenance and lodging reflects a form of temperance. Piscator’s willingness to exercise restraint with an eager Venator is reflected in the Venator’s thankfulness at the opportunity to gain a new skill, both tangibly and intangibly. “I hope to return you an increase answerable to your hopes: but, however, you shall find me obedient, and thankful, and serviceable to my best ability.” (83) Recognizing the sincerity of Venator’s position and the gravity of his own in that moment, it is telling that Piscator answers humbly. Rather than seeing his spiritual knowledge as a platform to place him above others, Piscator recognizes the value in sharing his lessons.

Piscator’s evolving attitude on the purpose of angling continues in Coridon’s song. Singing of a pure view of life through truth and contentment, Coridon’s song speaks to Piscator to the extent of which Piscator allows him the status of an honorary Angler – “…for a companion that is cheerful, and free from swearing, and scurrilous discourse is worth gold.” (86) Perhaps echoing Exodus 20:16 – “You shall not give false testimony against your neighbor” – Piscator recognizes the saintly nature of Coridon in himself. The short straw awarded to Coridon is simply a metaphor for a budding relationship that has not marinated to the extent of Piscator’s relationship with his brother or with Venator. Piscator was not afforded a level of quiet contemplation with Coridon as he experienced with Venator nor does he share a familial bond, however, on a spiritual level, he views them as equals. Presented with a rare opportunity to serve as a student, even briefly, Piscator expresses genuine delight at the gift of song before returning his own, stopping to elucidate his position on the company of others. In a righteous manner, Piscator disavows the need for tangible wealth, explaining the true wealth of a man can be found in the company he keeps and with whom he shares drink. While the refined Piscator spoke heavily to the spiritual gift of angling, the evolution of the man finds value in the mortal value of angling. Tempering his desire to wax philosophic on angling, Piscator echoes the evolution of Alyosha Karamazov in Fyodor Dostoevsky’s novel The Brothers Karamazov. With assistance from Elder Zossima, Alyosha realizes his gift of spreading his sermons lies not in quiet, solitary contemplation in a monastery but rather among the general populace, divulging the Word of God through action. Piscator’s spirituality pervades his song in a belief that he has been blessed with an ability to fish through a form of divine right, following in the footsteps of St. John and other God-fearing fishermen.

The Student Becomes the Master

Piscator’s greatest lesson comes not through dialogue but in practice. Having established himself as a worthy angler and professor of the finer points of the angling process and its Biblical leanings, Piscator allows for a full embodiment of a Master by transforming a distraught Venator. Through the Piscator’s generosity of catching a fish for the previous feast and giving him ample camaraderie on their long journey, Venator discovers an ulterior purpose along with his skill as a hunter. As S.L. Frank might summarize Venator in this instance, he is no longer “going in circles, the way a squirrel goes round in a wheel.” (Frank, 27) Venator, with Piscator’s assistance, has grown contemplative on life and fishing, largely through the philosophical treatises mandated by a Piscator grappling with his own solitary ways. Slowly emerging from his self-serving mentality as the novel progresses, Piscator is giving of the tangible and intangible, furnishing a full meal while offering careful instruction on the nuances of angling. In offering for Venator to share in the catch with him – “Come, Scholar, come lay down your rod, and help me land this as you did the other… (100) – Piscator finds an eternally-grateful subject. It is in this moment that Piscator realizes the charitable mission of the journey with Venator. He has been afforded the ability to change a man’s life by providing wisdom and sustenance and Piscator is willing to grasp the opportunity. While at first meeting, Piscator looked to prove his superiority, his actions now suggest a link to Acts 20:35 – “I have shewed you all things, how that so laboring ye ought to support the weak…It is more blessed to give than to receive.” Viscator is weak in his angling acumen and Piscator shows a clear willingness to bridge the gap between the two.

Walton continues Piscator’s transformation into a divine stand-in throughout the fishing sequence. Given Piscator’s nature, Walton could have created Piscator to instruct Venator but go no further. However, that would not have elevated Piscator into a saintly realm. St. Athanasius set no limits on his counsel, Jesus did not abandon his disciples and Piscator is compelled to remain with Venator in a similar manner. Venator expresses doubts as to his ability to catch a fish with what he deems subpar equipment – but his admission could perhaps be better interpreted as self-doubt filling his mind. In any sense, Piscator quickly gives of his equipment to benefit his companion, “Nay, then, take mine and I will fish with yours.” (100) That Piscator immediately catches a nibble – albeit unsuccessful – with Venator’s rod is irrelevant. It is the act of seeking to understand the less-fortunate that is significant as it elevates Piscator’s standing. Piscator lowers himself to the view of Viscator, colloquially puts himself in Venator’s shoes, to appease Venator.

In his charitable ways, Piscator echoes Izaak Walton himself. Given Walton’s affinity for casting a reel, it is well within reason that Walton would impart his own interests on the main character of his greatest work. And to find a connection, one has to look no further than Walton’s motto, “Study to be quiet”. Walton thought so highly of the value of self-reflection that he affixed that phrase sans context to the back of later editions of The Compleat Angler. Of note, Walton adds 1 Thessalonians 4:2 to his final endnote, giving a clear indication as to the ‘Study’ in his phrase. As the verse hearkens to the Ten Commandments, Walton is giving readers a blueprint for living a virtuous life, after reading his novel and reading a fictitious account of saintly virtue, turn to scripture and memorize the Commandments in practice. In understanding Walton’s connection to the phrase, Virgil B. Heltzel points to a work by George Webbe titled The Practice of Quietnes. As Heltzel explains, “Webbe begins by calling quietness a virtue.” (Heltzel, 416) Certainly, quietness would have been revered by a man such as Walton and given the close connection between the author and his main character, perhaps to the point of autobiography, it is fitting that Piscator would value quietness in the same manner. Webbe expands on his meaning of quietness and each aspect can be related to the evolving Piscator. Among the hallmarks of quietness, Webbe relays “a charitable eye, a neighbourly behavior, to converse friendly, to wrong no man willingly.” (416) Offering to “judge charitably” as an example of quietness is tailor-made for Piscator as he shows an clear sense of patience and understanding when alone with Venator that appeared to be illicit in his mind earlier in the novel.

Perhaps there is no greater instance of Venator and Piscator realizing the impact of angling on their own lives than in the closing remark by Piscator. Piscator states, “And upon all that are lovers of virtue, and dare trust in his providence, and be quiet, and go a-Angling.” (252) Piscator has long considered angling to be the most noble of recreation and considers any opportunity to share his interest a gift. He can be quite liberal in his interpretation of the religious aspects of angling but he stays true to his beliefs. For Piscator, angling serves as a conduit for a wholesome, Christian existence – a window into a divine realm. He remarks that anglers by nature and virtuous and quiet, enjoying the solitary contemplation it affords but it also serves as a call to arms for anyone who considers themselves of pure mind. Editorializing slightly, Walton – an avid fisherman and religious scholar himself – calls on fishermen and potential individuals seeking guidance to ‘dare trust in his providence’. As Webbe later stated in his The Practice of Quietnes, “A quiet man is a creature made of a middle nature, and true Christian temper, swift to heare, slow to speake, slow to wrath.” (416) Piscator – and by extension, Walton, is calling on any immediate subjects to demonstrate the qualities that he possesses. Show temperance in your thoughts and consider the situation, be charitable with your worries, in this sense, trust in God to alleviate your worries.

Piscator offers a charitable eye through his close instruction given to Venator and eagerly welcomes Peter and Coridon into his circle. As Piscator realizes the value in sharing his knowledge, he discards any notion of wronging a man through his arrogance. S.L. Frank would likely simplify this notion of quietness by rationalizing charity through the absence of a greater choice. As Frank argues that “every action is meaningful when it serves a goal” (Frank, 27), a case can be made for Piscator’s charity serving the goal of spreading scripture and knowledge. While he does not freely admit to a grand transfer of knowledge early in the novel, Piscator expanded his thoughts on recreation that was deemed toilsome and turbulent in scripture. In that sense, the continued discussions with Venator raise the question of whether Piscator would have been exposed to those forms of recreation had he not met Venator and Auceps. It may be something of a rhetorical question but seeing a world outside of the one beneath the water attached to his line allows Piscator to change. Dramatically. Frank continues that “life as a whole does not have any goal outside itself” and Piscator’s charity could be done to extend the possibility of an after-life. For a clearly God-fearing man such as Piscator, he seeks to share his gifts, and taking command of a perceived broken rod to leave Venator with his thoughts suggests a transfigurational virtue present in the main character.

Piscator’s charitable nature with the rod is a theme found prominently in scripture. Through prayer and a man of divine influence or belief, a broken element can quickly be transformed into a whole. John 9 describes the story of a blind man healed by clay through Jesus’ words and actions. Job was a broken man, tested heavily by a potentially-merciless God but a steadfast belief in God and trust in Him saw Job survive his many trials. Ravaged by floods, Noah remained true to his beliefs in surviving his ordeals. The question of Why? in relation to many of the Biblical figures that found their faith tested has plagued scholars. Why would Job remain faithful through physical and mental affliction? Why would Noah believe through famine? John Rziha explains that faith as virtue is transformative for humans and “empowers them to begin fulfilling their unique role in God’s divine plan.” (Rziha, 174) Job, Noah and others clearly saw the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel, the idea that their eventual role in God’s eyes was of greater importance than any troubles in that moment. Piscator is tested through Venator’s relative novice in angling and the broken confidence of a man seen as a lesser subject in the eyes of his spiritual gift. Piscator provides a reprieve through a bit of wisdom fit for a sermon, “Nay, the trout is not lost; for pray take notice, no man can lose what he never had.” (100) In a quote that can be applied Biblically, did Job et al ever have serious doubts about faith or was it superficial, Piscator reaches for a world beyond the immediate, physical realm. Venator lists fortune – or a lack thereof – as the culprit for his inability to reel a fish on his own and the response allows for a look into the perception of spiritual versus secular.

Through his sense of charity, Piscator slightly the life of St. Vincent de Paul, committing to assisting the poor, in this case, the raw art of angling. Among St. Vincent de Paul’s deeds to assist the less-fortunate was serving as a spiritual counsel, similar to that of Piscator and Venator. Piscator immediately divulges a similar strain, comparing their relative abilities in the water to that of a fiddler and his fiddlestick. “I lent you indeed my fiddle, but not my fiddlestick…” (100). In that sense, Piscator allowed Venator access to spiritual tools but without instruction on their application, Venator ultimately failed. Equating angling to the spiritual process, Piscator offers guidance to Venator but urges patience in the process. Summarizing his thoughts by mentioning that “Angling is an art” (101), Piscator speaks the deeper meaning behind angling in his eyes. Piscator has doled spiritual guidance in addition to angling guidance and the two skills will one day merge.

A Courageous Piscator

In her final breath, Joan of Arc remained true to her faith, shouting “Jesus!” repeatedly according to accounts of her execution. An extreme example, surely, but one that speaks to the power of faith in dire circumstance. To quote John 3:16, “…that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.” The sense of courage to remain steadfast in your beliefs regardless of circumstance is prevalent in Walton’s work. Walton drew from his own experience as a staunch Royalist during a period of intense strife in the English Civil War and those qualities are transferred to Piscator. Piscator dares to ask “Can any man charge God, that he hath not given him enough to make his life happy?” (242) Much like Joan of Arc is historically said to have believed in her divine possession, Piscator finds similar value in angling. Left to his own devices, Piscator possesses the courage necessary to find inspiration in the simplistic. Echoing the aphorism, “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”, Piscator is content with the ritualistic nature of angling. Deriving inspiration from the process of angling, Piscator possesses more than enough for a wholesome existence. Piscator has no desire to border on blasphemy by charging God with not providing the proper tools for happiness. Through a previous discussion with Venator, Piscator spoke to Venator not having the required tools to immediately master angling. However, it becomes clear that Piscator believes that unlocking a man’s happiness lies not in material possession but rather in possessing the courage to see one’s life as fulfilled. S.L. Frank draws on the Bible and Biblical morals heavily and he describes life without a clear purpose as a purgatory and those without purpose “are condemned to spend their entire lives in this purgatory…” (21). Piscator keeps his spiritual center throughout the novel, even at the exclusion of direct Biblical references in his dialogue, as he sees his life as fulfilled through angling. The reward of catching a fish is secondary for him to the simple act of casting a line.

Structurally, Walton places the emphasis squarely on Piscator in Chapter 21, disguised as instruction on casting a line. Returning to the narrative device of Piscator serving as a quasi-narrator, Walton gives Piscator the figurative floor. But rather than regale Venator with tales of famous fishermen throughout scripture as he did early in the novel, Piscator lends a virtuous element to his dialogue. By filling his dialogue with anecdotes of believers changing their appearance, social status or living arrangements to alter God’s will, Piscator implores Venator to find the courage to trust in God if he is going to proclaim his faith. After discussing anecdotes of beauty and status, one anecdote in particular speaks to Piscator’s system of beliefs and becoming one with the divine. A man’s search for a suitable house continues endlessly as he is looking “to find content in some one of them.” (243) His companion responds in a manner similar to that in which Piscator would respond, contentment is found not in material possession but in a quiet and meek soul. Piscator possesses the courage of unyielding faith regardless of success or failure in angling. Whether he has a fish at the end of his line does not change his willingness to discuss scripture and inject references into song and conversation.  Similarly, if Piscator were corrupted by the potential monetary gain associated with his skill as an angler, his purity would vanish. Piscator lives a carefree, jovial existence by focusing solely on the art of angling.

In a continuation of his relation between material wealth and satisfaction, Piscator quotes Matthew 5. In relating Matthew 5:5 – “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the Earth”, Piscator is asking Venator to release all of his troubles at the bottom of a metaphorical body of water to echo the one by which the two have spent most of their acquaintance. Preaching to Venator, Piscator realizes the elevated plane on which he finds himself in Venator’s eyes and finds the courage to meet him. Previously, Piscator has shunned the Master/Scholar labels endowed by Venator, preferring to see the two as equals. Rather than allowing Venator to sulk at his inability to procure fish after fish from the water, Piscator is asking Venator to practice the lessons that he has bestowed. With Piscator’s guidance, Venator has gained a crash course in angling as well as an opportunity to become closer to God, with the river banks serving as Piscator’s pulpit. In terms of Matthew 5:5, Piscator is the strong, keeper of the current world but much as a priest’s platform affords the opportunity to intrigue the next generation, Piscator is doing the same with Venator. However, St. Gregory of Sinai would argue that the meek are in a position of potential power as they have been humbled. “The earth of the meek is the kingdom of heaven, or the human-divine state of the Son of God.” (Philokalia, 46) Venator’s meekness may allow him entrance into Heaven with Piscator’s assistance in creating a devout believer as Venator already sees himself as an imperfect soul. Studying scripture as a result of his interactions with Piscator will only serve to heighten his sense of humility.

Perhaps the most courageous aspect of Piscator’s many religious sermons relates to thankfulness. Relating the story of David, Piscator explains that David is in the purest sense, according to the Ten Commandments, a murderer, but through constant repentance and admission of his sin, he is seen as “a man after God’s own heart…” (244). Venator will likely commit a sin during his life even with the lessons and guidance of Piscator but Piscator is calling on Venator to possess the courage to confront his sins and ask for forgiveness. Relating God’s grace with a metaphor of a blind man suddenly gaining his sight, even for an hour, Piscator implores Venator not to fall into complacency in his religious journey and to have the courage to continue seeing oneself as imperfect, a lump of clay in continual mold.

In Summation

Piscator experiences a transformation throughout The Compleat Angler. Saddled with a heightened sense of self-importance as we meet the main character of Walton’s classic, Piscator slowly becomes something of a divine stand-in for a Christian book masquerading as a fishing guide. Centering himself humanely and spiritually through his budding friendship with Venator, Piscator comes to embody an amalgamation of saints throughout history, showing instances of temperance, charity and courage. While an imperfect man, Piscator comes to recognize his duty to spread the scriptures to anyone who will listen, discovering a willing ear in the process.

Works Cited

Carroll, Robert P., and Stephen Prickett. The Bible: Authorized King James Version with Apocrypha. Oxford University Press, 2008.

Dostoyevsky, Fyodor, et al. The Brothers Karamazov. Barnes & Noble, 2004.

Frank, S. L. The Meaning of Life. W.B. Eerdmans Pub. Co., 2010.

Heltzel, Virgil  B. “Izaak Walton’s Motto.” Huntington Library Quarterly, vol. 18, no. 4, Aug. 1955.

Kadloubovsky, E., and G. E. H. Palmer. Writings from the Philokalia on Prayer of the Heart. Faber and Faber, 1992.

Rziha, John. The Christian Moral Life: Directions for the Journey to Happiness. University of Notre Dame Press, 2017.

“St Athanasius the Great LIFE OF ST ANTHONY THE GREAT, Complete.” St Athanasius the Great, LIFE OF ST ANTHONY THE GREAT – Full Text, in English – 1, www.elpenor.org/athanasius/anthony-life.asp.

Walton, Izaak, and Charles Cotton. The Compleat Angler, or, The Contemplative Man’s Recreation. Modern Library, 1998.

While it may seem banal to reference the opening line of Dostoevsky’s hauntingly mesmerizing novella Notes From The Underground, in forming an argument, it rings sufficient.

With “I am a sick man…I am a wicked man”, Dostoevsky channels the tortured psyche of one of his most lucid and harrowing characters, Crime and Punishment’s Rodion Raskolnikov. Given the proximity in which Dostoevsky wrote the two books, there may have been overlap between the two main characters.

As it were, Notes From The Underground follows little in the way of your standard novel, providing precious little dialogue to remove the reader from the schizophrenic episodes of the unnamed narrator, reminiscent of Dostoevsky’s approach to Raskolnikov as his mental faculties begin to erode. What dialogue Dostoevsky does provide gives a glimpse into the multiple personalities competing for the frayed ends of sanity in the fractured neuroses of a man possessed.

The narrator’s eroding sanity is evident in his approach to those around him in the second part of the novel. A police officer disrespects him with relative kindness and the narrator proceeds to stalk the man and seek revenge, “Devil knows what I would have given then for a real, more regular, quarrel, more decent, more, so to speak, literary!”(49) A conversation with Liza devolves into personal attacks as the narrator grapples with his insane need for equal footing in any passing acquaintance, “That’s easy to say! You’re young now, good-looking, fresh – so you’re worth the price. But after a year of this life, you won’t be the same, you’ll fade.” (91)

Left without any spiritual center or largely without anything constituting meaning, S.L. Frank would describe the narrator as attempting to stay grounded within himself. “Nor can we ground ourselves upon ourselves, solely upon the thirst for life, or the inner force of life in us, for this is to hang in air. (122) The narrator lacks a concrete moral foundation and is left wandering aimlessly in his mind. While he may possess the inner force of life, his fractured sanity does not allow him to contain it, leading to rambling, neurotic thoughts and an inability to think rationally.

The unwarranted interest in his rambling thoughts extends to the Mariner in Samuel Coleridge’s poem “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner”. The wedding guest is immediately enthralled by the Mariner’s tale for unknown reasons, eschewing his responsibility to the wedding party, in order to appease a new acquaintance. The Mariner captures the Wedding-Guest’s attention with a “glittering eye” (13), a look of sincerity for a man who appears cursed. Much like Dostoevsky’s narrator and the ideal in Frank’s novel, the Mariner is searching for a spiritual center.

Maybe we’re all wicked, sick men.

In Izaak Walton’s The Compleat Angler, a seminal fishing guide turned prophetic blueprint for a sincere Christian existence, the Piscator serves as something of a mouthpiece for a righteous lifestyle. While it may appear at first glance that the lengthy religious diatribes and domination of dialogue serve to alienate the other characters, it becomes clear that the Piscator’s role is that of a spiritual mentor. Through a close analysis of Walton’s work along with selections from our Medieval Philosophy anthology and the King James version of The Bible, I will argue that the Piscator follows the Christian tradition of a Man of God serving as a leader, both in body and spirit. In doing so, I will examine the hagiographical bend to the Piscator and the transfigurational virtue present in the main character in relation to scripture analytically both through the Philosophy anthology and in the Bible itself. By examining the Piscator’s vast scriptural knowledge through his lengthy discussion of life in the Biblical arena, his Saintly task of patiently relaying the intricacies of fishing and his Christ-like Feeding of the Multitudes, Piscator becomes something of a divine stand-in. 

Enthymeme: Therefore, the Piscator creates a mystical aura which is thereby transferred to the other characters because of his close relationship to God and the Holy Christian tradition in his personal philosophy.

Close Reading sections

·         Feeding of the Multitudes reference and scene – Lines 981-1007 in Kindle version – one fish to feed six bellies –

·         Piscator and Venator attempt to catch a fish – Piscator takes Venator’s rod and succeeds – Line 889-921 in Kindle version

·         Fishing v. Hunting discussion in Chapter 1 – Lines 523-555 in Kindle version – enlightens the other characters to a Christian worldview, other characters seem to have only a passing knowledge of scripture “Angling is of high esteem”…

Sources

The Compleat Angler

The King James Bible – Feeding of the Multitudes in the Gospels

Selections from the Medieval Philosophy anthology

“Fish-Hooks in Amos – Izaak Walton and the Real Truth”, M.A. Bond

“Royalist Reclamation of Psalmic Song in 1650s England” – Paula Loscocco

The Life of Izaak Walton Including Notices of his Contemporaries, Thomas Zouch, 1826

The Piscator, captivating orator that he is, creates a divine association in angling from the first chapter with immediate references to scripture. Whereas the Venator appeals to mortal men by relaying the perception of hunting as a recreation for Princes and noblemen and the Auceps declares birds the political arm of the sky, the Piscator draws on a greater comparison to capture the fleeting attention of his guests. In tying a scriptural narrative to leisurely traipsing over a river bank or in a boat hoping for a nibble, the Piscator gains the admiration and borderline worship of the Venator almost immediately. In admitting that he may lose himself in a scriptural argument on angling (Line 350), the Piscator recognizes the dense metaphorical world he is entering. In a brief reference to Jonah and the Whale before the Aucep’s leaving ends the anecdote, the Piscator builds an immediate intrigue around Christianity, divulging that the ‘Almighty God is said to have spoken to a fish but never to a beast…’ (Line 350). Note the Piscator’s language here. By using ‘beast’ rather than ‘animal’, the Piscator appeals directly to the Venator and creates something of a mental hegemony within the Venator, leading to the Master/Scholar relationship later in the novel. As M.A. Bond states, “Piscator is well-aware of the blessed state of mental and moral composure he enjoys, and is happy to be able to pass on its benefits to such a willing pupil as Venator.” (Bond, 328) Piscator expounds on his sense of moral composure through angling by placing himself among holy men with ties to Jesus Christ. But rather than fall prey to a desire to compare himself to prophets and disciples, the Piscator uses references to Job, the Prophet Amos and others as something of a double entendre.

Continuing the established connection between angling and the divine, the Piscator weaves an anecdote on the association of Job and the Prophet Amos to angling (Line 391). Lending perspective to his comparison, the Piscator offers “that angling is much more ancient that the incarnation of our Saviour,” (Line 379) an admission which serves to amplify the restorative qualities of angling as not reserved for followers of Christ. In divulging the presence of fish-hooks in Biblical times, the Piscator lends historical accuracy to his narrative on the importance of angling and ‘fish-hooks’ serves as an apt metaphor for the increasingly-enthralled Venator, figuratively salivating on his every word. By allowing for an immortal element to be transferred to angling by mention of Biblical figures, the Piscator makes angling more than simply casting a line into the water and waiting for a fish. For the Venator, a man who appears starved for a spiritual connection, the mention is enough to leave him captured hook, line and sinker.

Drawing from the New Testament, the Piscator creates a hierarchy through an analysis of the language used by St. Peter versus St. Paul. Walton effectively personifies the language used by both men, with the gentle, unencumbered nature of angling compared to the humble persona crafted by St. Peter, a fisherman, “Whom having not seen, ye love, in whom, though now you see him not, yet believing, ye rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory.” (KJV, 1 Peter 1:8) The Piscator describes St. Paul’s language as “glorious and metaphorical”, appropriate given St. Paul’s atonement upon his conversion. However, the Piscator explaining that St. Paul was not a fisherman gives insight into his view on the potential disingenuous nature of St. Paul’s teaching. Given St. Paul’s abhorrent past prior to his conversion to Christianity – persecuting early Christians as noted in Acts 8 – the Piscator’s preference for St. Peter – a man who inverted the traditional method of crucifixion as he felt unworthy – becomes clear. While the Piscator refrains from explicitly citing Acts 26 in explaining his preference for fishing over other forms of leisure, it can be dutifully applied. At its most basic level, Saul’s capturing of Christians and call for their death (Acts 26:10-11) can be interpreted as a form of hunting. The Piscator sees angling as the most pure of all recreational activities, as the only leisure worth undertaking, one that can bring him closest to the divine in the earthly realm. In the purest sense, fishing is a sporting activity with little in the way of permanent harm, a statement which plainly cannot apply to hunting. The Piscator’s loquaciousness in regards to the divine element of angling reaches its logical conclusion in a reference to the Ecclesiastical Canons. The Piscator describes angling as “a recreation that invites them to contemplation and quietude” whereas hunting is “turbulent, toilsome, perplexing” (Line 540). In short, the Piscator enjoys angling as it affords him the opportunity to ponder life in all its glory, mortal and immortal and brings the angler closer to the otherworld.

Imagining himself as the most spiritual among himself, the Venator, the recently-departed Auceps, the Piscator borders on a declaration of self-divinity. Explaining that “the nearer we mortals come to God by way of imitation, the more happy we are” (Line 396), the Piscator places himself in a divine light. By continuing that God can only stomach his power and presence through a constant reflection of his abilities, the Piscator draws a parallel between the divine and the serenity afforded by basking in God’s creation through angling. In his flawed egotism, it is clear that the Piscator sees himself in a higher light than others. Much like the devoted men before him, the Piscator prefers contemplation to action, waiting for the ideal moment to seize his opportunity rather than force it into being. (Include S.L. Frank analysis on spiritual center)

In Izaak Walton’s The Compleat Angler, angling is viewed as the purest of sport in comparison to the momentary violence of hunting and the perceived hum-drum boredom associated with falconry. While The Compleat Angler is rife with Biblical references as the Angler, Hunter and Falconer all appear well-versed in scripture, the Angler stands alone with lengthy diatribes alluding to the perception of angling in Biblical times and the common interest shared between himself and Saints. Therefore, it can be interpreted in Walton’s eyes that angling would bring one closer to God.

 In speaking to the righteous nature of fishing, the Piscator relates an anecdote about St. Peter, “…it may very well be maintained by our Saviour’s bidding, St. Peter cast his hook into the water and catch a fish, for money to pay tribute to Caesar.” (The Compleat Angler, Line 537) Given St. Peter’s close relationship with Christ, it is interesting that Walton would choose that scriptural reference. Is he implying that the Piscator sees himself in something of a higher light? The Piscator is clearly intrigued at the prospect of a Master-Scholar relationship between himself and the Venator and the seeming worship of the Venator at his oratory and angling abilities serve to strengthen their budding friendship. The humble Venator aims to please the Piscator throughout their fishing journey, consistently chiding his failure to capture numerous types of fish while the Piscator does so with ease regardless of equipment.

While we only see fleeting Biblical references to hunting or falconry in Walton’s work, the frequent scriptural references to angling allow the reader to draw a clear connection between the two. Given the many references, Walton would likely have been familiar with the Feeding of the Multitude narrative from the Gospels and even appears to allude to it by feeding six people with one trout – “Nay, brother, you shall not stay long; for, look you! Here is a trout will fill six reasonable bellies.” (Line 981)

Despite his willingness to dominate conversation much to the chagrin of other parties, the Piscator appears genuine. As Irenaeus of Lyons stated, “…a good will toward us is present with Him continually. And, therefore, He gives good counsel to all.” (Medieval Philosophy, 89) The Piscator’s generosity shines through in giving freely of his fishing talents to provide for the Milk-Maid and Coridon with food in exchange for a small bit of entertainment, providing tangible gifts and asking little in return. While not confusing himself with the divine, it appears as if the Piscator has not only studied scripture heavily but internalized the lessons in scripture and put them into practice.

Classical English Rhetoric – Anadiplosis (although I could have been more precise in my use of this technique)

How to Win an Argument – Appropriateness – use of scriptural anecdotes to relate to Walton