I had known about him months before his rise to widespread recognition, and had consulted his videos on Dostoevsky to help with my essays for class. I also read Jordan Peterson’s 12 Rules for Life. So on I went through the summer, continuing my study of Dostoevsky on my daily commutes in Washington, and engaging with the daily readings in my issue of the Magnificat Catholic missal. They used to flutter at her window just like little birds, calling out: ‘Nous t’aimons (we love you), Marie!’ She almost forgot her misery, and seemed to accept their love as a sort of symbol of pardon for her offence, though she never ceased to consider herself a dreadful sinner. I have copied the excerpt that “got” me, here:

In short, his example taught the children of the town to love her. Marie was shunned by the townspeople, but treated kindly by Prince Myshkin. At some point, I made the discovery and accepted that this is what had moved me to the point of tears while I read about Father Zosima, the confessor ( The Brothers Karamazov), or the homeless Swiss girl, Marie ( The Idiot.) Little did I know, Dostoevsky’s great works contained implicit, and sometimes rather explicit, Eastern Orthodox theology. I was drawn to God in an emotional and inexplicable way, rather than by a rational sense of obligation or a sense that I ought to. I experienced a wonderful deepening of my faith post-Dostoevsky, attending Catholic Mass without fail and feeling invested in my faith not unlike one of Dostoevsky’s characters. I went on to dabble in The Idiot and The Brothers Karamazov, although admittedly not devoting the necessary amount of time to either of the two. Particularly, a devout Russian peasant and a Christ figure named Sonya, and main-character, criminal Raskolnikov’s interaction left me speechless. The book struck me unlike anything I had previously read. In February 2018, I read Russian author Fyodor Dostoevsky’s work Crime and Punishment in an academic setting.

Jordan peterson the idiot dostoevsky