Few novels in literary history provoked as much outrage as Dostoevsky’s Demons.
Its content was considered so vile that publishers censored entire chapters, convinced the public couldn’t handle such grotesque ideas. Dostoevsky admitted his writing was harsh, but insisted it was necessary to expose the hidden rot of modern Russian society.
The novel was Dostoevsky’s famous warning against nihilism. He claimed a life beyond good and evil wouldn’t just make life chaos, but would summon the demonic in man.
Here are the hidden horrors of nihilism according to Dostoevsky, and his censored writing that was deemed too graphic for print.
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Revolutionary Chaos
Demons takes place in a quaint Russian village. All is quiet and peaceful at first, but after two nihilists show up, strange things begin to occur.
The nihilists — Pyotr and Stavrogin — have one goal:
Create a utopian revolution.
Let’s remember that this is 19th century Russia. The country has abandoned Orthodox Christianity for a revolutionary fervor that said all government was immoral and oppressive. These same ideas would soon give birth to Russian communism in a matter of decades. So Dostoevsky’s story isn’t so much an argument as it is a prophecy.
How exactly do Pyotr and Stavrogin plan to bring about this glorious revolution?
They follow the playbook of all radical revolutionaries — sow chaos and disorder by any means. This sounds immoral, but nihilists don’t believe in good and evil. They solely believe in power. For them, the “moral,” deeds are using power to dismantle systems of oppression (civilization, etc). The “good guys,” are the violent, the criminal, the anarchic — whoever will sow chaos in society is aiding the revolution.
Here exactly is how Pyotr and Stavrogin seek to destroy this Russian village.
Murder, Madness, and Mayhem
Their first step is to recruit the criminal, the young, and impressionable to their revolutionary cause. Their crimes begin as mere theft and vandalism, but later ramp up in intensity.
The crime syndicate, led by Pyotr, spread gossip, lies, and rumors throughout town. They encourage public vice like lust and drunkenness, desecrate religious icons, blackmail politicians, and even plot arson.
By the novel’s end, several atrocities have taken place including murder, multiple suicides, and attempted plot of mass killing. This bleak novel ends in tragedy, but sharp readers notice something missing.
The missing piece has to deal with Stavrogin.
While Pyotr was a devout revolutionary, Stavrogin was not. He supported nihilism, but didn’t buy into the revolution. He seemed plagued with a guilty conscience, like he knew there was something wretched about his crimes, beliefs, and goals.
His guilty conscience suggested he knew something he wasn’t telling us. Like something was omitted, but readers never found out what exactly…
In hindsight, it turns out publishers had omitted an entire chapter on Stavrogin.
The chapter is crucial to understanding his character, but it also reveals the truest horrors of nihilism. Admittedly, however, it is quite vile writing. One understands why the publishers censored it.
Here’s why…
The Censored Chapter
The chapter is called “At Tikhon’s,” and it only appeared in late additions of the novel in the appendix.
In this censored chapter, Stavrogin makes a secret visit to a priest named Tikhon, planning to make a confession. This would be a stark betrayal to his revolutionary friends — one punishment by death in their eyes.
So why the change of heart?
Stavrogin’s life is still mysterious at this point. We know he influences and inspires the revolutionaries, but seems disgusted by their crimes in the same light.
This chapter now reveals that his crimes have been tormenting his conscience. He’s sleepless, and hallucinates visions of demons that make his existence a living hell. His visit to Tikhon is his last hope for redemption, to finally make that “leap of faith,” and repent.
Stavrogin begins his confession with a blunt statement:
“I neither know nor feel good and evil. I have not only lost any sense of it, but know that neither exist”
From here he lists off all the crimes he’s committed, including:
Marrying and abusing a mentally ill woman
Seducing a maiden, then inducing her to suicide
Influencing his revolutionaries to commit murder
And much more beyond that
Yet one crime, unlisted and unconfessed, haunts Stavrogin worse than all the others combined:
He confesses to raping a 10 year old girl, goading her to suicide, and listening with pleasure as she gasped her last breaths in front of him. Even worse, he took pleasure in it:
“I liked the intoxication from the tormenting awareness of my own baseness”
This is indeed the ultimate act of evil, but Dostoevsky wrote this chapter for a specific purpose. His point was, if you’re a nihilist, everything is permitted. If good and evil don’t exist, then Stavrogin’s actions are acceptable. Dostoevsky wants you to truly stomach what a world beyond good and evil looks like, and nothing sickens our nature more than this violation of a child.
Yet, Stavrogin’s confession is meant to do more than just horrify us. It also reveals what nihilism does to your soul.
Stavrogin asserts that his crimes have destroyed his capacity to feel. As noted earlier, he’s numb, insomnia-driven, and sees demons before his eyes. The only pleasure he feels is the joy at debasing himself by committing more evil.
His nihilism is like a drug addiction that numbs him, makes him chase a greater hit, and further destroys his humanity. He spirals and spirals until he “destroys and betrays himself for nothing.”
In the end, Stavrogin completes his nihilism by bringing it to its logical conclusion:
He commits suicide, unrepentant.
Conclusion
Tragic as this story is, Dostoevsky was no nihilist himself. The brutality is not meant to drive you to despair. Strangely, it’s meant to call you to hope.
As a Christian, Dostoevsky believes anyone can find redemption. The implication of Stavrogin’s story is, had he actually repented, he could have been saved. Yes, he’d have to answer for his crimes, perhaps face life in prison, but even this burden of justice would lead to glory.
This is because repentance is about far more than submitting to laws. Genuine repentance is the blueprint for spiritual transformation, and great sinners make great saints.
Why exactly?
First, no one has a greater fear of evil than a wretched sinner who regrets his wrongs. If fear of evil leads to fear of God (the beginning of wisdom), then a repentful nihilist like Stavrogin stands to find himself amongst the wisest men on Earth. It’s the inverse of the Luciferian fall:
Satan was so evil because he once stood so close to the Good. Conversely, the most wretched who deigns to change his ways may propel himself to heights unfathomable (see St. Augustine).
This is the great hope then:
No living soul is beyond redemption. Dostoevsky’s desire is not just that we hate nihilism, but also learn to love the quiet humility as a servant to the Good. The “suffering servant,” does not trod an easy path, but the steepest of paths lead to the greatest of heights. Make yourself low out of love for the Good, and you’ll be exalted higher than you could have ever foreseen.
It’s this same lowliness that conquers the terror of nihilism, and restores grace to reality.
Thank you for reading!
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Brilliant analysis that is pertinent to contemporary Western woes, too.
This a wonderful and important piece of writing. I think it's possible to romanticise the transformation and sense of justice that comes from Revolution, but the reality has always been barbaric, bloody and brutal. Now that the western world is so secular, and the suggestion of Revolution seems to be bubbling in all kinds of corners, the need to recognise the reality and find a source of morality in something is so important. Dostoevsky's writing, and paying attention to it is a great way of reawakening to that. Thank you!