Notes from Underground (Dostoevsky)
Short Summary
Saint Petersburg, approximately the mid-19th century. A bitter man, known as the Underground Man, lived isolated in poverty after resigning from his civil service job. At forty, he spent his days suffering from overthinking and self-contradictions, despised both himself and others, but considered himself intellectually superior.
As a young man, the Underground Man's exaggerated self-awareness made him awkward and spiteful. Once insulted by an officer in a tavern, he obsessed over the slight for years. Eventually, dressed impressively, he deliberately bumped into the officer on Nevsky Prospect, feeling he restored his pride. Later, he joined former school acquaintances at a farewell dinner for a popular officer, but everyone ignored or mocked him, leaving him bitter and ashamed.
Out of frustration, he went to a brothel where he spent the night with a prostitute named Liza. Moved by her innocence and misery, he lectured her about her bleak future, evoking her tears, and handed her his address. Initially satisfied by his moral superiority, he quickly regretted revealing his poverty-filled circumstances.
Days later, Liza came to visit him, moved by his earlier words. Ashamed of his shabby lodging and humiliated by a confrontation with his arrogant servant, the Underground Man intentionally insulted Liza, cruelly revealing that his apparent kindness was merely a means to humiliate her. Liza, deeply hurt, understood his self-loathing and embraced him compassionately. Feeling vulnerable and ashamed, he gave her money out of spite. Anguished at this cruelty, he ran after her to apologize, but she had already vanished into the snow-filled night. Seeing the money she left behind, he realized his bitter isolation had destroyed even this chance of genuine connection.
Reflecting upon his life, the Underground Man confessed to an invisible audience, bitterly concluding: "We are oppressed at being men—men with a real individual body and blood, we are ashamed of it, we think it a disgrace and try to contrive to be some sort of impossible generalised man."
We are oppressed at being men—men with a real individual body and blood, we are ashamed of it, we think it a disgrace and try to contrive to be some sort of impossible generalised man.
Detailed Summary by Parts
Sections within parts are editorial.
Part 1. Underground
The Contradictions of the Underground Man
The narrative began with the confession of a forty-year-old former civil servant living in St. Petersburg. He introduced himself as a sick, spiteful, and unattractive man who believed his liver was diseased, though he never consulted doctors out of spite.
I am a sick man.... I am a spiteful man. I am an unattractive man. I believe my liver is diseased. However, I know nothing at all about my disease, and do not know for certain what ails me.
He recalled his days as a civil servant, where he took pleasure in being rude to petitioners and making them unhappy. He particularly disliked one officer who clanked his sword, and carried on an eighteen-month feud with him. Despite claiming to be spiteful, the Underground Man admitted he could never truly become spiteful or even embittered. He was constantly aware of opposing elements within himself that prevented him from becoming anything definite.
The Underground Man declared that at forty, he had reached what he considered extreme old age. He believed that living beyond forty was vulgar and immoral, and only fools and worthless people lived longer. He claimed he would live to sixty or even eighty, despite his own pronouncement. He described his living conditions: a wretched room in the outskirts of town, with an old countrywoman as his servant. Though told the Petersburg climate was bad for his health, he remained there out of spite.
I am forty years old now, and you know forty years is a whole lifetime; you know it is extreme old age. To live longer than forty years is bad manners, is vulgar, immoral.
Consciousness as Illness and Suffering
The Underground Man proceeded to explain why he could not even become an insect. He claimed that excessive consciousness was an illness, and that for ordinary human needs, a much lesser degree of consciousness would suffice. He envied men of action, whom he considered stupid but normal. He described himself as a man of acute consciousness, created in a retort rather than born naturally.
I swear, gentlemen, that to be too conscious is an illness - a real thorough-going illness. For man's everyday needs, it would have been quite enough to have the ordinary human consciousness...
He described how his heightened consciousness made him acutely aware of the base and beautiful aspects of life simultaneously. When he recognized goodness and beauty, he would paradoxically sink deeper into degradation. He confessed that he sometimes derived a perverse pleasure from his own humiliation and degradation. This pleasure came from the intense awareness of his own baseness, reaching a point where it transformed into a kind of enjoyment.
The more conscious I was of goodness and of all that was 'good and beautiful,' the more deeply I sank into my mire and the more ready I was to sink in it altogether.
He compared his situation to toothache, explaining how a person moaning from tooth pain derives a peculiar pleasure from those moans. The sufferer knows the moans serve no purpose but continues anyway, finding a voluptuous pleasure in them. Similarly, the Underground Man found a kind of pleasure in his own suffering and degradation, though he recognized the absurdity of this pleasure.
Against Rationality and Determinism
The Underground Man attacked the notion that humans act according to their own best interests. He argued that throughout history, people have repeatedly acted against their own advantage. He rejected the idea that human behavior could be reduced to mathematical formulas or rational principles. Humans, he insisted, sometimes deliberately choose what is harmful to themselves simply to assert their freedom and individuality.
He ridiculed the utopian vision of a Crystal Palace where all human actions would be calculated and tabulated according to the laws of nature and reason. Such a world might be perfectly rational, but it would also be unbearably boring. He argued that humans value their free will and capricious desires more than their rational interests, and would rebel against any system that tried to eliminate this freedom.
I say that the world may go to pot for me so long as I always get my tea. Did you know that, or not? Well, anyway, I know that I am a blackguard, a scoundrel, an egoist, a sluggard.
The Underground Man asserted that what humans value most is not happiness or advantage but the freedom to choose, even if that choice leads to suffering. He claimed that the most valuable thing for humans is their individuality and personality, which cannot be reduced to rational formulas. He concluded that consciousness without action leads to inertia, and that he had spent forty years in his underground corner because of this paralysis of will.
Now, I am living out my life in my corner, taunting myself with the spiteful and useless consolation that an intelligent man cannot become anything seriously, and it is only the fool who becomes anything.
Part 2. À Propos of the Wet Snow
Life in the Civil Service and Solitude
In the second part of his notes, the Underground Man recalled events from sixteen years earlier, when he was twenty-four. He described his life then as gloomy, ill-regulated, and solitary. At his office job, he avoided talking to his colleagues and believed they looked upon him with aversion. He alternated between despising his coworkers and feeling inferior to them, always dropping his eyes when meeting someone's gaze.
He considered himself overly sensitive and felt like a coward and a slave, believing this was the natural condition of any decent man. He was troubled by his isolation, feeling that he was alone while everyone else belonged together. His moods fluctuated dramatically - sometimes he refused to speak to anyone, while at other times he attempted to make friends. He occasionally visited his superior, Anton Antonitch, the only permanent acquaintance in his life.
The Underground Man also maintained a tenuous connection with a former schoolmate named Simonov. He described how he would sometimes engage in debauchery, visiting brothels at night, though he felt ashamed afterward. He would then retreat into dreams of heroism and nobility, imagining himself as a poet, a gentleman, or a revolutionary hero. These fantasies provided temporary escape from his sordid reality.
The Dinner with Former Schoolmates
One day, the Underground Man visited Simonov and found him with two other former schoolmates, Trudolyubov and Ferfitchkin. They were discussing a farewell dinner they were planning for another former classmate, an officer named Zverkov, who was being transferred to a distant province. The Underground Man had always hated Zverkov, who was handsome, wealthy, and popular - everything the narrator was not.
Despite not being invited, the Underground Man insisted on joining the dinner, which was to take place at the Hotel de Paris. Simonov reluctantly agreed, telling him to bring his share of the cost. The Underground Man left feeling agitated, torn between shame at forcing himself upon them and determination to attend. That night, he had disturbing dreams about his school days, recalling how his classmates had mocked him for his appearance and ideas.
The next day, he obsessed over his appearance, worrying about his shabby clothes and a yellow stain on his trousers. He borrowed money from his superior to pay for the dinner and his share of the cost. When he arrived at the hotel, he discovered the others had changed the dinner time from five to six o'clock without informing him. He had been waiting alone for an hour, increasing his humiliation and resentment.
When the others finally arrived, they treated him with condescension. During dinner, the Underground Man drank heavily and grew increasingly agitated. Zverkov and the others ignored him, talking about their careers and women. Finally, the Underground Man made an awkward, drunken toast that insulted Zverkov. The others were disgusted, and he was effectively ostracized for the remainder of the evening.
Confrontation at the Brothel
After dinner, the group planned to visit a brothel. The Underground Man, though not invited, was determined to follow them. He borrowed money from Simonov, who gave it reluctantly, and took a sledge to the establishment. On the way, he fantasized about confronting Zverkov, slapping his face, and challenging him to a duel. He imagined various scenarios of revenge and reconciliation, working himself into a frenzy.
When he arrived at the brothel, he discovered the others had already separated. Instead of Zverkov and his companions, he found himself alone with a young prostitute. She had a pale face with straight, dark eyebrows and grave, wondering eyes. Though initially planning to leave, the Underground Man decided to stay with her.
They went to her room, where the Underground Man began a strange, rambling monologue. He spoke to her about love, family, and the degradation of her profession. He painted a vivid picture of the miserable future awaiting her as a prostitute - disease, abuse, and an early, lonely death. He contrasted this with the potential happiness of family life, describing the joy of marriage and children. His speech was partly genuine and partly a performance, as he took pleasure in displaying his eloquence and moral superiority.
The Encounter with Liza
Liza listened to his speech with growing emotion. When he finished, she was deeply affected, though she tried to hide it with sarcasm, saying he spoke "like a book." The Underground Man was offended by her response, feeling his performance had failed. He lashed out at her, claiming his speech had been merely to amuse himself and that he had been laughing at her the whole time.
Despite his cruelty, Liza understood that he was unhappy and suffering. When he broke down in tears, she embraced him with compassion. This genuine human connection momentarily broke through his defenses, and they shared an intimate moment. However, immediately afterward, he felt ashamed and could not look her in the face. His shame turned to resentment, and he began to hate her for witnessing his vulnerability.
Before leaving, the Underground Man gave Liza his address and invited her to visit him. He immediately regretted this, hoping she would not come. He was torn between the desire for genuine human connection and the fear of being exposed and humiliated. He returned home feeling both exhilarated and disgusted with himself.
Every man has reminiscences which he would not tell to everyone, but only to his friends. He has other matters in his mind which he would not reveal even to his friends, but only to himself, and that in secret.
Aftermath and Reflections
Several days later, Liza appeared at the Underground Man's apartment. He was mortified by the squalor of his living conditions and the presence of his insolent servant, Apollon. When Liza arrived, he was in the midst of a humiliating argument with Apollon over unpaid wages.
Embarrassed and angry, the Underground Man lashed out at Liza, telling her that he had only been playing with her emotions and that he despised her. Despite his cruelty, she saw through to his suffering and responded with compassion rather than anger. When he broke down sobbing, she comforted him, showing genuine love and understanding.
This genuine human connection terrified the Underground Man. In a final act of cruelty, he secretly placed money in her hand as she was leaving, reducing their interaction to a commercial transaction. Liza understood the insult and left the money behind when she departed. Realizing what he had done, the Underground Man ran after her into the snowy night but could not find her.
The Underground Man concluded his notes by reflecting that he had never seen Liza again. He justified his cruelty by telling himself that her resentment would purify her, though he recognized this as self-deception. He admitted that his suffering and remorse were a kind of perverse pleasure. Finally, he suggested that all people are divorced from real life and afraid of genuine feeling, preferring the safety of books and abstract ideas to the risks of authentic human experience.