I’m taking a Political Psychology course online for Summer Session II. It turns out I hate online courses, because the lack of true class discussion makes me dry up a little in my brain fluids. But that’s besides the point.
I’ve made it through a few of Dostoevsky’s short stories, which I absolutely loved. I’ve never read something that so simply critiqued mankind without being an outright critique of mankind. I wouldn’t call it subtle, but let’s say Dostoevsky makes being a curmudgeonly asshole James Dean level cool.
Freud on the other hand. (Civilization and Its Discontents) Well, Freud is about as subtle as my 85 year-old grandfather telling me my skirt is too short. Freud is so markedly obvious in his disdain for the choices of mankind that, once you figure out what exactly in convoluted chaos he’s talking about, you can’t help but wonder how he had any friends at all.
But aside from picking favorites here, I’ll get to the title point. Each man (Dostoevsky a little more so) clearly states his point. I’m not sure I could so fully form an opinion on mankind in the way that these men have. Granted, I’m only 21, but I’m not sure I have the kind of backbone it takes to be so resolute in something. While I (painfully obviously) favor Dostoevsky, and agree with most of what he says about the basic failure of mankind, there’s still a little flare of hope in me. A teeny little spark that maybe, just maybe, mankind isn’t as pitiful and hopeless as I so often think.
I believe that it is that little spark in me, and maybe other people, that could prevent me from ever forming a strong enough opinion to affect generations of people. But I wonder if that little spark makes me more human, and makes me one of those people that can be affected by men like Dostoevsky and Freud.