I started The Brothers Karamazov four times through the years, but would quit each time after 50 pages or so. I finally realized that I was repulsed by the story because the father reminded me of the worst aspects of myself. Once I accepted that I was able to read on and finish the book, and now I look upon it as one of my favorite novels.
I would have given up on it early on, but when I was going to Berkeley in the late 1970s, I attended First Presbyterian Church, where Earl Palmer was pastor. He extolled The Brothers Karamazov, Sheldon Vanauken's book A Severe Mercy, and Star Wars from the pulpit. His favorite part of TBK was the Grand Inquisitor chapter; I had to slog through that, but overall found the book quite rewarding, not least of all because it is a window into the Russian soul, which I think remains to this day a different beast than our own.
