The Idiot

Jeez. At first I was afraid, then I was... How did the song go? All I can say is that I finished it out of sheer stubborness, but it wasn't enough to make me one of the enlightened human beings who get this book. I know the idiot is supposed to be actually the kindest pastoral sweetest guy, and it's fine, but at some point, this idn't an issue: I just didn't care. Boring and long, and it doesn't help that at that time people lived off their inheritance so nobody does anything but visit each other and babble and blush and stomp their feet and drink and say things they mean only not. Like kindergarten, but in Russia. And with a couple of characters on repeat.
Well. Clearly, not a book for me. Sad, because the last Dostoievski had hit home, but maybe I'm not ready for it.