I finished reading The Brothers Karamazov (1879) by Fyodor Dostoevsky, translated by David McDuff.

One of the strengths of this novel was the distinctness of the characters, especially the three brothers of the title, dissimilar but bound together by family and fate. The reader grows to care for the brothers, even as faults and predilections etch consequences upon their lives. The personalities of other characters felt similarly articulated.

The ending left a powerful impression, in part from an accumulation of the many preceding developments. It was a good reminder of why I like to reserve judgment until I’ve finished reading a book.

“Is that not ridiculous, is it not?” “Not at all, and even if it were, it would not matter, because it is good,” Alyosha smiled radiantly.