Sorry for not posting on Friday. I was tired and lazy. It’s really hard to keep up some of the old habits anymore, not after having tasted long stretches of nothing during the summer, and the fact that this is being written rather late on Monday evening is proof of that. I’m going to try my best to keep these disciplines up, though, for my own sake at least and for all your sakes too.
Well, as mentioned earlier, I finally read and got past the Grand Inquisitor chapter of The Brothers Karamazov. I should also mention that the chapter preceding that section, “Rebellion,” contains one of the most convincing and impassioned arguments against God I’ve read–Ivan Karamazov rages against the suffering of children and asks rhetorically, “if the entire universe’s order and happiness ran on the unhappiness and torture of a single child, could you bear to live in such a universe? Would you create one like that if you were God?” (Interestingly enough, science-fiction writer Ursula K. Leguin wrote a short story based on that very question, “The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas”–well worth reading.) What impressed me more than the argument itself was how much it actually mattered to Ivan, that he really seemed to believe that the answer to the question of evil was a matter of life and death. These weren’t just idle intellectual parlor chatterings to him. He knew just how important these issues were and his subsequent atheism and moral anarchism were a result of serious grappling. The fact that his arguments are ultimately refuted and answered later in the book does not change the fact that his arguments are very convincing to anyone with a moral bone in his or her body. This shows the deep integrity of Dostoevsky, who does not set up straw-atheists that only exist to be knocked down by the virtuous Christians.
And then there is the Grand Inquisitor chapter, a seminal piece in the canon of Western literature. The chapter is chilling in the light of the 20th century and its wars of ideology and totalitarian government; it’s no wonder Albert Camus called it one of the most moving testaments to freedom ever written. The way the Inquisitor justifies the church’s assumption of “miracle, mystery, and authority” to the freedom-giving Christ seems to be Doestoevsky’s way of indicting some of the more unsavory Western influences coming into Russia at the end of the 19th century, socialism chiefly among them. (Earlier in the book, a character notes that the ends of Christianity and the ends of socialism are often confused with one another. This statement, I think, explains more about the appeal of Marxism to Western intellectuals than almost any book-length analysis can.) The reinterpretation of the temptation scenes from the Gospels in the Grand Inquisitor parable is deeply compelling, and the response that Jesus gives to the Inquisitor seems fitting after all, almost the perfect answer to the problem of evil and free will run amok . . .
. . . but. After reading an essay by Ralph Wood on First Things, something that was lingering at the back of my mind as I read the parable was confirmed: Ivan’s argument in The Grand Inquisitor is wrong. The Grand Inquisitor parable, while powerful and prophetic in a way that few works of literature can be, ultimately presents a false choice between absolute free will (represented by Ivan’s conception of Jesus) and totalitarian domination. In Ivan’s parable, Jesus came primarily to set man free from mystery, miracle, and authority. But if Ralph Wood, and my reading of Alyosha’s response and the apparent outcome of the book (which I have not finished reading but know in part already) is right, ultimately Ivan’s parable shows the deficiency in the modern Western liberal notion of freedom–that is, the kind of “freedom” to do whatever you like apart any commitments to any authority or community. The Orthodox Christianity to which Doestoevsky subscribed (really small-o orthodox Christianity in general) has never believed this to be true freedom. Freedom is, in Augustine’s phraseology, the ability to submit to the Good which is God. Or to use Kierkegaard’s phrase, freedom is having the pure heart to will only one thing. Ivan’s thinking resonates with us because we are modern Western liberals, even those of us who think we are “conservatives.” But Dostoevsky’s point was to show the ultimate limits of modernistic Western thinking on the subject of God, evil, and freedom, and then through the rest of the book show us the consequences of such thought through the lives of the characters. That an argument of such fine philosophical and theological brilliance could exist in a novel, of all places, is a testament to Dostoevsky’s genius. I think it works better than tomes of systematic theology and philosophical tracts.
Well, at least I’ll see when I finish reading. I’m only halfway through. 
Anyways, the weekend passed with only two big things happening: my reintroduction into the Dungeons and Dragons role-playing scene with my old high school friends, and my beautiful Antec Sonata case breaking down. Ultimately, I put the computer back in its old case, and it began working again, which meant that my new case was ultimately a lemon. A real shame, because that Antec Sonata was a superior case in almost every way. I returned it to the store today, and decided not to exchange it for an identical model, because honestly I don’t have nearly as much time to muck around with computers as I once did. I’m still doing research for the various parts that I want to get for my new model, but I think I may be holding off on purchases for a bit.
As for D&D, this is the first time Elliot is playing as Dungeon Master, so we’re trying to cut him a little slack as we all learn the third edition rules. I actually bought the rulebooks a long time ago when they were on sale at the bookstore, but I never read them until very recently. I think I’m finally getting a handle on the different stats that one has to know to play the game properly, but the thing I definitely lack is the spontaneous acting ability that you need to really get “into character.” My friends have always played D&D mostly for the fun of pretending to be people that they’re not, and relish the humor that always arises from the game. After watching them play and participating for past few years, I now have a hard time understanding why D&D players are stereotyped as anti-social. D&D is actually a very social game. It cannot be played alone, and to play a character effectively, it requires the random back-and-forth repartee that is in good conversation and social interaction–the kind of conversation that I am still lacking in. Which is why I still don’t say much during the game overall, and tend to be a bit passive. I’m just not that spontaneous. But it’s fun, and I don’t feel too nerdy when I play . . .
Anyways, it’s almost midnight and it’s time to slide this entry under the deadline. No time for proofreading today. I’ll see if I can write again on Wednesday.