Almost There: Dostoevsky’s Underground Man

So many people struggle to understand themselves. One can observe the world around him and begin to understand it, but understanding oneself is a different task entirely. Many people struggle to find an identity for themselves, and those people end up placing so much emphasis on how they are viewed that they slowly begin to fabricate themselves rather than identifying themselves. In his book Notes from Underground, Dostoevksy’s “underground man” is no different. He describes himself as “highly conscious” of both himself and the stupidity of mankind, and yet he finds it impossible to identify himself and make decisions that involve his everyday life. Because of his struggle to understand himself, the underground man struggles to function in the world and believes himself to be unable to accomplish anything. Yet eventually, when he tries to torment a woman for her lifestyle, he accidentally pours his heart out to her and reveals that he’s known how to live well all along. Even so, the underground man refuses to take his own advice and returns to all the uncertainty and self-hatred that he already lives with. Dostoevsky’s last few chapters paint a tragic story of discarded redemption and love forever lost, and his painfully relatable character forces his readers to reexamine their own thoughts and choices.

The underground man has always enjoyed tormenting others (4-5). When he first meets Liza, a prostitute, he sets out with the intention of simply making her miserable. He says that “it was the game, the game that fascinated me” (104). Instead of simply playing the game, however, the underground man starts giving Liza genuine advice. He tells her what prostitution will do to her, both physically and emotionally. He warns her that, even if she thinks that someone truly cares for her, she will never experience genuine love. He tells her that she will die alone with no one and nothing to call her own. He proves to her that her life will be so much better if she works hard and struggles for her own future, finds someone who truly loves her, and builds a life for herself. He says that, once she is married, “the first married love will pass, true, but then an even better love will come. Then their souls will grow close; they’ll decide all their doings together; they’ll have no secrets from each other” (98). He pours out to Liza everything that he’s been holding back from himself for so many years, and by extension, he gives himself the advice he’s always needed. As a man with no sense of identity, a constant hatred of himself, and an inability to connect with others, the underground man needs nothing more than genuine love and a desire to improve himself. He goes from trying to torment a girl to realizing that she can have everything he never did, and he wants her to have it. The underground man may have several reasons for suddenly opening up to a girl that he doesn’t know, but the most likely reason is that he sees the similarities between himself and her. The reader sees such a shift between the way he writes the first half of the book and the way he speaks to Liza, and that shift is suggestive of a sudden clarity.

Liza was driven to a life of prostitution because of her family circumstances (96). She was given into the profession by her family. She’s hardened by her past, and as she and the underground man talk, she keeps a wall between herself and her feelings. As the underground man chips away at that wall, however, she is revealed to be far more sensitive than she first appeared. As the story progresses, the reader sees her beginning to understand the underground man’s struggles. Liza seems to be the only person in the book that can truly relate to the underground man. She has been trapped by her family’s disregard of her, and the underground man has been trapped by his disregard of himself. Liza may be one of the few people who can help the underground man, and she seems to believe that she can. The underground man, however, doesn’t even believe that he can fix himself. He has no interest in being helped, and he proves it as the story progresses. After they speak at the brothel, the underground man gives Liza his address and goes home. When he wakes up the next morning, he is appalled at his “sentimentality” from the night before, and he despises himself for giving Liza his address (108). He fears that Liza will actually come to him, “however, why not, let her come, it’s no matter” (108). For a while he seems to hope that she will not come, but then tries to convince himself that he is indifferent. He slowly devolves back into denial of anything he doesn’t understand. Later, as time passes, he seems desperate for Liza to come: “‘She’ll come! She’s sure to come!’ I’d exclaim, running up and down my room” (111-112). Even though he doesn’t want to  believe that their conversation was of any significance, the underground man expresses over and over that, deep down, he needs another person who understands him. 

Eventually, Liza does come to see the underground man, and in a burst of rage, he tells her that his conversation with her was all an act (123-124). Instead of running away from him, however, Liza stands and listens. The underground man then describes a heartbreaking scene of vulnerability. When he asks Liza why she hasn’t left, she doesn’t respond. Instead, she hugs him. He says that she “suddenly rushed to me, threw her arms about my neck, and burst into tears. I, too, could not help myself and broke into such sobbing as had never happened to me before. ‘They won’t let me… I can’t be… good!’” (125). Until Liza, no one had ever been able to reach the underground man’s heart. She exhibits a kindness that he seems to never have experienced before, and she has managed to keep that kindness despite immense hardships. She is the other side of the underground man, the side that understood what needed to be done, took the initiative, and made something of itself. She escapes prostititution because of the underground man’s help, and now she wants to help him in return. She wants to show him the love that he refused to show himself, and she wants to show him how to be good. The underground man, however, can’t bring himself to believe that there is anything that he can do for himself. He says that “for me to love meant to tyrannize and to preponderize morally. All my life I’ve been incapable of even picturing any other love… I had dared just before to reproach and shame her for coming to me to hear ‘pathetic words’… but [she came] to love me” (127). He eventually asks Liza to leave, and the book closes with him still believing that to live is a burden (132). He comes within inches of redemption, but he doesn’t reach out and take it.

Dostoevsky takes his readers on a painful journey of hatred, uncertainty, helplessness, offered salvation, and eventual rejection of that salvation. In a way, the underground man is the sinner who refuses God’s grace, and in more ways than one, he is all of us. He doesn’t know who he is, he doesn’t know how to fix himself, and the only way he can move forward is to accept himself and choose to improve the things he cannot accept. Notes from Underground is a beautifully tragic tale that demands action of an actionless generation, and that message is still poignant over 150 years later.

Works Cited

Dostoevksy, Fyodor. Notes from Underground. Trans. Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky. Random House Publishers, 2021.