The narrative throughout this book lays the
groundwork for a surprise plot twist: the revelation in Book XI
that Smerdyakov, and not Dmitri, is the murderer. Dostoevsky goes
to such lengths to imply that an innocent man is guilty of such
a crime for several reasons. First, making Dmitri guilty and then
innocent in our mind is a way of enacting the spiritual rebirth
that Dmitri experiences after his arrest. Second, making us learn
that our judgment about Dmitri is wrong is a way of emphasizing
Zosima’s advice never to judge anyone because all people are responsible
for one another’s sins. Third, making Dmitri appear guilty is a
way of emphasizing the extraordinary scope of his passion. Dmitri
may not have committed murder, but he is clearly capable of such
a crime, and possesses a tormented and sinful soul. The redemption
of such a passionate person is all the more dramatic. Fourth, making
Dmitri appear guilty is a way of making us feel the way most of
the other characters do when they learn about the arrest. The whole
town believes him to be guilty.
Making Dmitri appear guilty is also a way for
Dostoevsky to put human nature itself on trial. Throughout the novel
we have seen various conceptions of human nature, ranging from Alyosha’s
faith that people are essentially good, like Zosima, to Ivan’s belief
that people are essentially bad, like Fyodor Pavlovich. But Dmitri
combines the qualities of Fyodor Pavlovich and Zosima: he is a lustful
and sinful man who nevertheless powerfully loves God. He commits
bad deeds and longs to redeem them. He believes that he is bound
for hell but pledges to love God even from the depths of hell. After
spending a large amount of his fiancée’s money on a lavish vacation
with another woman, he is now greedily desperate for even more money,
but only so that he can salvage his honor with Katerina, and thus
make up for his sin. By putting Dmitri on trial through circumstantial
evidence, Dostoevsky essentially poses the question of whether Dmitri’s
sinfulness or his goodness is the more fundamental aspect of his
nature. This query in turn should make us question which of the
two aspects is more fundamentally a characteristic of humanity. Dostoevsky
wants us to consider whether humanity, burdened as it is with free
will, is capable of overcoming its sinful nature and choosing to
live within its good nature. When Dmitri is proved to be innocent
shortly after he undergoes his powerful spiritual conversion, the question
is answered in favor of human goodness—though not without a thorough
understanding of the reality of evil in human life.
Although a great deal of the novel’s thematic
development relies on the events in these chapters, the chapters
are so devoted to narrative action that there is comparatively little
thematic development within Book VIII itself. Apart from the insight
it offers into Dmitri’s tormented inner conflict, the most interesting
psychological aspect of this section is its look at Grushenka’s
growth since her encounter with Alyosha. Before, Grushenka is too
proud and suspicious to acknowledge her love for Dmitri, but through
Alyosha she discovers real goodness. As a result, she is at last
capable of admitting to herself that the Polish officer is just
a vulgar man who betrayed her in her youth, and that Dmitri is the
man she really loves. Alyosha does not appear at all in the action
of this book, but his presence is strongly felt in Grushenka’s positive acquiescence
to her love for Dmitri—a lovely moment of goodness that is interrupted
sharply by evil, with the arrival of the police and the announcement
of the murder of Fyodor Pavlovich.
