The Divided Soul and Dostoevsky’s Polyphonic Response to Plato

The name which Dostoevsky gives to the protagonist of Crime and Punishment, Raskolnikov, comes from ‘raskol’ — Russian for ‘schism’ or ‘split.’ It is appropriate that Dostoevsky gives this name to an individual who exists in a manic state of conflict about his actions and beliefs for the entire time readers are acquainted with him. While Dostoevsky makes the paradigm of split psychology especially apparent in Raskolnikov, there is a significant body of literature which suggests that human psychology is split by default. An early elaboration of this concept can be found in Plato’s Republic, in which Plato suggests the soul is divided into three parts, which he calls appetite, reason, and spirit. Dostoevsky’s interest in this particular characterization of human nature is unquestionably present in his work. In “The Three Motives of Raskolnikov,” Maurice Beebe suggests “the conflict in the tripartite Raskolnikov is a struggle between the sensual, intellectual, and spiritual parts of his nature.” The very same characterization is unmistakable within The Brothers Karamazov as well: Dmitri can be understood as sensual, Ivan as intellectual, and Alyosha as spiritual. While a parallel between Plato and Dostoevsky’s psychological frameworks is certainly apparent, Plato’s conception of the divided soul is accompanied by a normative assertion that the rational part should be considered supreme. Dostoevsky’s portrayal of the intellect in a negative light, in both Crime and Punishment and The Brothers Karamazov, suggests he does not agree. With an understanding of the similarities between Plato and Dostoevsky as a foundation, I will bring attention to a significant point of disagreement, the question of authority, and demonstrate how Mikhail Bakhtin’s influential conception of Dostoevsky’s polyphonic voice illuminates an acute antithesis between the Russian genius and the Greek.

In order to draw a parallel between Plato’s divided soul and Dostoevsky’s literature, a understanding of Plato’s psychological theory is essential. In the Republic, Plato begins with the assertion that it is impossible to explain any psychological conflict without the existence of at least two parts of the psyche, noting that “‘it’s plain that the same thing won’t be willing at the same time to suffer opposites, … so if we should ever find that happening, … we’ll know they weren’t the same but many’” (Plato 436b). To Plato, in order to explain any kind of practical or moral deliberation, an individual must be convinced of two opposing sides of a proposition at the same time, and Plato asserts this is only possible through psychological division. Plato also suggests that each part of the soul can be attributed its own sets of beliefs and desires, such that each part of the soul is capable of forming coherent intentions based on what it wants and what it believes about the world (437-440). This characterization is relevant because it allows for the consideration of each part of the soul as an agent in itself, which will become significant in developing a comparison between Plato’s soul parts and Dostoevsky’s characters.

A closer look at the nature of each part of Plato’s tripartition is also essential. To the appetitive part, he attributes a desire for material pleasure, namely food, drink and sex, and suggests “‘such desires are most fulfilled by means of money’” (581a). To the rational part, he attributes a desire for knowledge or wisdom, both generally, in terms of what exists, but also relationally, in terms of how the things that exist compare to one another, which he calls knowledge of “calculation” (438, 439d). Plato suggests that the rational part, with its knowledge and calculative ability, is best suited to rule the others, “‘since it is wise and has forethought about all of the soul’” (441e). An individual whose rational part is authoritative over the others is understood by Plato to be a “just man.” Plato’s spirited part, however, is more difficult to characterize. In terms of desire, Plato suggests that the spirited part desires honor or good reputation (581b). Earlier in his discussion, he attributes a certain emotional or passionate quality to the spirited part — when the rational part fails to motivate an individual towards what it knows to be good, the spirited part rises up in anger (440a-b). He also suggests that the spirited part, as opposed to the rational part, is in some sense innate, suggesting “even in little children, one could see that they are full of spirit straight from birth, while, as for calculating some seem to me never to get a share of it, and the many do so quite late” (441a).

While Plato ultimately emphasizes the rational part of the soul as the finest of the three, it is essential to understand that even in his own conception, the three seem to exist in only relation to one another. The appetitive part, considered the least of the three, can still be considered responsible for directing the individual towards the material goods he needs to survive — while Plato thinks reason should still direct the appetite, the appetite is still ultimately implemented when an individual acts to sustain himself. In addition, while the rational part desires and is responsible for knowledge of what is best for the whole individual, the spirited part seems to occasionally supply the rational part with effective motivation or passion to implement what it knows to be good.

With this understanding of the nature of Plato’s appetitive, rational and spirited parts of the soul, and of the interdependency which exists between them, we can appropriately discuss the parallels which can be found in Dostoevsky’s work.

Beebe’s discussion of the sensual, intellectual and spiritual in Crime and Punishment explores Raskolnikov’s divided psychology through the central mystery of the novel, Raskolnikov’s motivation for the murder of the moneylender Alena Ivanovna. Beebe asserts there are three competing motives for the crime, and while Beebe never alludes to the Republic, his tripartite distinction is, intentionally or not, drawn along the same lines as Plato’s. Raskolnikov’s intellectual motive comes from his theory that in robbing the moneylender, he can use her money for the greater good, in keeping with his published article. Beebe establishes Raskolnikov’s sensual motive as the self-oriented desire which underlies his intellectual one, the desire to prove himself an extraordinary man. Beebe notes that in this respect, Raskolnikov commits murder “for the thrill of it, because of his fascination with the horror of the very idea; and the murder is, in part, an act of aggressive lust” (155). Finally, Beebe identifies Raskolnikov’s third, spiritual motive as a “will to suffer” which is revealed by his “urge to confess and take his punishment” (156). For each part of Raskolnikov’s psychology, Beebe identifies another character, or alter-ego, which he suggests Dostoevsky employs to illustrate a facet of Raskolnikov’s character even when the narrator’s attention is not explicitly focused on the protagonist. Luzhin is cast as the intellectual, Svidrigaylov as the sensual, and Sonia as the spiritual.

It should be apparent that while this characterization of divided psychology is drawn along the same line’s as Plato’s, it departs from Plato’s in a crucial sense. It is clear throughout Crime and Punishment that Dostoevsky is not sympathetic to Raskolnikov’s rationalization of murder — if he was, he would not have his protagonist nearly go insane with guilt and eventually turn himself in. Because of this, it appears that Dostoevsky does not agree with Plato’s conclusion that the rational part of the soul is the finest and should be understood as authoritative. Since it is clear in Beebe’s characterization that Raskolnikov’s lust for “extraordinary” status is ultimately more motivational than his intellectual motive for murder, Plato might assert, if he were alive to do so, that Raskolnikov’s rational part is submissive to his appetitive part, and that a stronger rational part would alleviate Raskolnikov’s conflict. It cannot be ignored, however, that Dostoevsky understands Raskolnikov’s theory as an example of a flimsy utilitarianism similar to the one found in Chernyshevsky’s “What Is To Be Done?,” a book Dostoevsky mocks in Notes from Underground. Additionally, if we compare Dostoevsky’s portrayal of Luzhin, the intellectual prototype, to his portrayal of Sonia, the spiritual prototype, it is clear the author thinks Sonia is more deserving of an attribution of justice.

In The Brothers Karamazov, the three legitimate children of Fyodor Karamazov, Dmitry, Ivan and Alyosha, can easily be understood along the same tripartite division encountered in Plato and Beebe. While each character is certainly multi-faceted, and exhibits behaviors which can be attributed to each of the divisions, the parallels are difficult to miss. Dmitry is primarily characterized by his lust for Grushenka, and his rabid search for money which he immediately spends on food and drinks for his escapade to Mokroye is unmistakably equivalent to Plato’s money- and material-hungry characterization of the appetitive part. Ivan is explicitly described as an intellectual, and while his relationship with reason is not exactly parallel to the desire for wisdom which Plato describes in the Republic, he exhibits an acute concern for religious and metaphysical understanding in “Rebellion” and “The Grand Inquisitor.” Alyosha is certainly spiritual in the contemporary sense of the term, but his similarity to Plato’s characterization of the spiritual part is especially striking: his reputation is flawless, his emotions, if well-controlled, are nevertheless powerful, and he displays a child-like innocence that suggests his character is almost innate. While Plato and Dostoevsky’s division along the same lines is once again apparent, if one looks to The Brothers Karamazov for further evidence of Dostoevsky’s poor opinion of the intellectual part, they must simply compare Ivan and Alyosha. Alyosha is loved by everyone and remains happy and virtuous through the death of Zosima and the drama surrounding his family, while Ivan has few if any healthy relationships and is plagued by fever and madness by the conclusion of the novel.

While Plato and Dostoevsky’s normative understandings of the parts of the soul are certainly divergent, there are numerous reasons why Plato’s conception of divided psychology in the Republic is still relevant to an understanding of Dostoevsky’s literature. Both Crime and Punishment and The Brothers Karamazov are unmistakably concerned with psychological conflict. Raskolnikov, despite his intellectual convictions, experiences hesitation before the murder and overwhelming guilt afterwards, and even as he realizes he cannot live with unconfessed guilt, he is conflicted between confession and suicide. Dmitry, despite his uncontrollable lust for Grushenka, exhibits a distorted yet genuine devotion to Katerina, and Dostoevsky carefully reveals elements of virtue amidst his violence and licentiousness. If Plato is correct, and psychological conflict is impossible without a divided psychology, it is especially appropriate that Dostoevsky’s explorations of psychological conflict are centered around the explicitly split Raskolnikov or the psychologically distinguished Karamazov brothers. In addition, in each novel, Dostoevsky can be understood to employ individual characters as representations for each part of the divided soul: Dmitry and Svidrigaylov represent the appetitive part, Luzhin and Ivan represent the rational part, and Sonia and Alyosha represent the spiritual part. By incorporating complex, active characters which can be understood to represent psychological divisions, Dostoevsky provides an effective illustration of Plato’s conception of that parts of the soul as unique agents that have their own beliefs and desires and are capable of influencing their fellow parts.

It is now appropriate to return to the divergence between Plato and Dostoevsky. One might be tempted to explain Dostoevsky’s apparent disdain for the Plato’s celebrated rational part by jumping to the intuitive conclusion that Dostoevsky is convinced the spiritual part should be considered authoritative, such that individuals whose actions are ultimately informed by the spirited part of their psychology should be considered just. Dostoevsky’s favorable illustration of both Alyosha and Sonia, as well as his own religious convictions, can be seen as evidence of this. However, Bakhtin’s interpretation of Dostoevsky offers what I find to be a significantly more insightful interpretation. Before it is introduced, it will be helpful to return the Republic once more.

Plato’s discussions of the tripartite soul in the Republic occurs alongside a complementary discussion about the roles of groups of individuals in the State. In many instances, the two discussions become one, and Plato applies his psychological theory to his political, or vice versa. He asserts the following parallel between his theory of a just city and his theory of a just man:

‘We surely haven’t forgotten that this city was just because each of the three classes in it minds its own businesses. … Then we must remember that, for each of us too, the one within whom each of the parts [of the soul] minds its own business will be just. … [The just man] doesn’t let … the three classes in the soul meddle with each other, but sets his own house in good order and rules himself; he arranges himself, becomes his own friend, and harmonizes the three parts, exactly like three notes in a harmonic scale, lowest, highest and middle’ (441d, 443c-d).

In the same discussion, Plato continues to asserts the superiority of the rational part, both in the context of the state and of the individual, reiterating its authoritative role: “‘Isn’t it proper for the calculating part to rule, since it is wise and has forethought about all of the soul, and for the spirited part to be obedient to it and its ally?’” (441e). While Plato’s emphasis on the rational part has already been established, it is of particular significance to Bakhtin’s theory that Plato suggests that the parts of the just man’s soul should “mind their own business” and pursue “harmony.” Bakhtin’s theory of polyphony suggests Dostoevsky’s real disagreement with Plato can be located here.

At the beginning of Problems of Dostoevsky’s Poetics, Bakhtin draws attention to the nature of criticism surrounding Dostoevsky. He notes that most critics understand the detailed philosophical statements found in Dostoevsky’s novels as “completed, … valid ideological conceptions, and not as the object of Dostoevsky’s finalizing artistic vision” (3). In opposition to this critical trend, Bakhtin suggests that Dostoevsky is paradigmatically misunderstood, and asserts he is better understood as the creator of a new genre, the polyphonic novel. Polyphony was first a musical term, referring to the “combinations of relatively independent melodies,” which contrasts homophony, a “musical texture based primarily on chords” (Encyclopædia Britannica). An initial characterization of this new genre is provided as follows:

Dostoevsky … creates not voiceless slaves, but rather free people who are capable of standing beside their creator, of disagreeing with him, and even of rebelling against him. The plurality of independent and unmerged voices and consciousnesses and the genuine polyphony of full-valued voices are in fact characteristics of Dostoevsky’s novels. It is not a multitude of characters and fates within a unified object world … but precisely the plurality of equal consciousnesses and their worlds, which are combined here into the unity of a given event, while at the same time retaining their unmergedness (4).

Bakhtin’s characterization of Dostoevsky’s polyphonic fiction is accompanied by a separate but related conception of “dialogics.” As opposed to Hegel’s popular theory of dialectics, in which a thesis and antithesis come to a head and merge into a synthesis, in dialogics we are invited to “embrace contradictory values” as Dostoevsky does (12).

It seems that Bakhtin reads Dostoevsky’s literature as a primarily open-ended dialogue between contradictory points of view. However, if this same understanding is applied to an individual’s divided psychology, it can make sense of the exact nature of Dostoevsky’s disagreement with Plato. Plato proposes the divided soul as a way to explain conflict, but suggests the individual has a duty to moderate and even suppress the dialogue within him using the hand of reason. Plato suggests a three note vertical harmony, or the simple homophonic chord. Dostoevsky instead pursues a polyphonic melody, which is harmonic yet diverse. Plato suggests that the parts of the soul mind their own business, voicelessly yielding to the will of the leader. Dostoevsky instead gives a vivid identity and voice to each part, often placing them at table with one another to discuss their unique beliefs about suffering. Plato divides the soul only to assert a unitive, hierarchical order. Dostoevsky instead allows the parts to remain equal to one another, maintaining their autonomy and independence.

It would be naive to suggest that Crime and Punishment and The Brothers Karamazov are completely bereft of a normative framework. The Dostoevsky character can, and does, take Plato’s advice and elect a leader to the throne of his soul. If the leader is the spirit, Dostoevsky showers the character with blessings; if the leader is appetite or reason, or a leader is not selected, the character is likely to wind up feverish and insane, dead at his own hands, or in prison for murder. But Dostoevsky heroes like Raskolnikov and Dmitry are consistent in that they foster the dialogue within their soul, and readers flock to them because their psychological conflict, while more intense than most, is universal and genuinely human.

Works Cited

Bakhtin, M. M. Problems of Dostoevsky’s Poetics. Trans. R. W. Rostel. Ann Arbor: Ardis, 1973. Print.

Beebe, Maurice. “The Three Motives of Raskolnikov: A Reinterpretation of Crime and Punishment.” College English, vol. 17, no. 3, 1955, pp. 151–158., www.jstor.org/stable/495737.

Dostoevsky, Fyodor. The Brothers Karamazov. Trans. Andrew R. MacAndrew. New York: Bantam Classic, 1970. Print.

Dostoevsky, Fyodor. Crime and Punishment. Trans. Jessie Coulson. New York: W.W. Norton, 1989. Print.

“Homophony.” Encyclopædia Britannica. Encyclopædia Britannica, inc., 20 July 1998. Web. 28 Apr. 2017.

Plato. Republic. Trans. Allan Bloom. New York: Basic , 1968. Print.