Dostoevsky, Austen, and the Holy Fool
"For the wisdom of this world is foolishness in God’s sight." - 1 Corinthians 3:19
I recently finished a 700+ page annotated copy1 of Pride and Prejudice, which may be my favorite book ever. There are little moments I forgot about that I love seeing again, like when the Bennets are the last to leave the Netherfield Ball and stay far past their welcome, or when Elizabeth is surprised by how tall Georgiana Darcy is. I even forgot that Mrs. Gardiner scolded Lydia Bennet for her licentious, downright dangerous behavior before her wedding - and that Lydia ignored her.
The best thing about discovering Austen for me was realizing that Austen didn’t write romances. Her novels are love stories, yes, but there’s surprisingly little romance in them. Her work is mainly clever satire and intricate character study. I also love how realistic her work is - there are five Bennet sisters in Pride and Prejudice, even though at most four are necessary to advance the plot, for example, and the Wickham - Lydia subplot does little but re-emphasize lessons Elizabeth has already learned.
Austen’s work is fundamentally moral, though rarely moralistic (with the possible exception of Mansfield Park). One fascinating parallel between Austen and Dostoevsky is their mutual distrust of formal religious authority. Both writers were deeply Christian but all too aware of the institutional failings of their respective churches. Dostoevsky had his Grand Inquisitor and the misanthropic Father Ferapont, Austen has the obsequious Mr. Collins and the mercenary Mr. Elliot.
Austen received scoldings for her portrayal of clergymen, including a librarian who worked for the then-Prince Regent of England, who told her to write a novel with a noble clergyman as the hero of the story.2 Jane later, as was her wont, satirized this potential character in her “Plan for a Novel” as “the most excellent Man that can be imagined, perfect in Character, Temper, & Manners— without the smallest drawback or peculiarity.”3
There’s a reason Austen’s books are still popular today, which is that her satire - while at times biting - displays a deep understanding of human nature, which never changes. Take Mr. Collins, for example. As a clergyman, Mr. Collins is supposed to teach his parishioners by example to be virtuous - that is, humble, gentle, compassionate, gentle. While Mr. Collins makes a show of embodying these virtues, his conduct reveals him as “a mixture of pride and obsequiousness, self-importance and humility” blinkered by the “self-conceit of a weak head.”4
At one point, Mr. Collins describes “everything the heart of mortal can most desire,” which includes “splendid property, noble kindred, and extensive patronage.” This is more revealing than Mr. Collins intends, for although he claims to value faith, charity, and humility, he is obsessed with wealth and rank.5
Mr. Collins is even, at times, cruel. When his cousin Lydia runs off with an unsuitable man and heaps disgrace on her family, he writes Mr. Bennet a letter stating that 1. his daughter would be better off dead and 2. congratulating himself that he did not marry one of Mr. Bennet’s daughters, which he had hoped to do at an earlier point in the novel. As a clergyman, Mr. Collins should be comforting the Bennets in their time of distress - a fact he recognizes, because he states that “I feel myself called upon, by our relationship, and my situation in life, to condole with you on the grievous affliction you are now suffering under[.]”6 But Mr. Collins is too blinkered by his own pride to show any compassion for the Bennet family.
Mr. Collin’s behavior is mirrored by Elizabeth’s sister Mary. Like Mr. Collins, Mary makes a show of being devout. She reads Fordyce’s sermons and loudly claims not to care for worldly baubles or dancing. She enjoys conversing with Mr. Collins and admires him.
Like Mr. Collins, Mary’s displays of devotion fall flat when she is needed. When Lydia runs away and her family is devastated, Mary does not help console her parents at all; instead she disappears into the library to read religious texts. When her family discusses what to do about the situation, Mary offers nothing helpful but offers smug cliches about the importance of feminine virtue.
This isn’t to say that feminine virtue isn’t a real concern - Jane Austen undoubtedly agreed that chastity was a very important virtue for women. The problem with Mary is that she, like Mr. Collins, presumes her own superiority and thus reveals herself as a fool. Her sister Jane is a far better example of Christian virtue. While Jane does not make grand religious pronouncements, she loves and tends to her parents without complaint, and she never speaks a bad word about anyone, even those who have treated her badly. This is how we should all aspire to be.
Through Mr. Collins and Mary, Jane Austen demonstrates two things: 1. Just because a person is in a position of authority does not mean they deserve it and 2. We presume our own virtue at our peril.
In contrast to Mr. Collins stands the holy fool of Dostoevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov, a young intellectually disabled woman named Lizaveta. Lizaveta is often called “Stinking Lizaveta” by her neighbors. According to Dostoevsky, “All her life, both summer and winter, she went barefoot and wore a hempen shift.” Lizaveta begs for her food as “a holy fool for God,” but gives away the fine clothes her neighbors try to donate to her by leaving it for the poor.7
Lizaveta, beaten by her father and then abandoned at a young age, rarely attends church services, but she was so innocent that even if she found thousands of dollars that someone had forgotten, “she wouldn’t take a kopeck.”8
After she is assaulted by the Karamazov brother’s evil father Fyodor Pavlovich, Lizaveta becomes pregnant and dies in labor, delivering a healthy baby boy.
Lizaveta’s life is tragic - to the worldly, she is even pathetic. She dies at twenty after being sexually abused by a terrible man and giving birth to his child. But Dostoevsky does not see her this way. I believe Dostoevsky viewed her as a noble figure, innocent yet persecuted, devoted to the poor, a “fool” in the eyes of the world who is indescribably precious in the sight of God.
It’s difficult to imagine a person more different from Mr. Collins than Lizaveta. They are both fools, yet in opposite ways. Mr. Collins is a fool because he fancies himself as important. Lizaveta is a fool because she loves without self-interest, which the world cannot comprehend.
St Paul exhorts us, “Do not deceive yourselves. If any of you think you are wise by the standards of this age, you should become “fools” so that you may become wise.”9
May we all be more like Lizaveta and less like Mr. Collins.
Jane Austen with David Shapard, The Annotated Pride and Prejudice, Anchor Books (2007).
Lesley Peterson, Writer’s Block, Roadblocks, Blockheads: Jane Austen’s Rocky Road to Acceptable Satire of the Clergy, Jane Austen Society of North America (Winter 2023), https://jasna.org/publications-2/persuasions-online/volume-44-no-1/peterson/#:~:text=This%20view%20is%20shared%20by,Collins%20similarly%20notes%20that%20Mr.
Id.
See Pride and Prejudice, supra, Chapter XV.
Id. at Chapter LVII.
Id. at Chapter XLVIII.
Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Brothers Karamazov, Book III Chapter 2, translated by Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky (Bicentennial Edition, October 5, 2021).
Id.
1 Corinthians 3:18.