What's on tap today? Brothers Karamazov Week 1 - Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics, Book I - Herodotus, The Histories, Book I, paragraphs 1-94

I'm going to give you all a summary of what I learned and what my thoughts are from week 1 of the 2 courses I'm taking at the University of Chicago graduate school. The first course is a deep dive on Dostoevsky's Brothers Karamazov and the second course is the first course in the Basic Program Year 1 Winter course which covers Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics, Herodotus the Histories, and Aeschylus - Oresteia. I have never had any interest in any of these books when I was younger, but based on where I am at in my life today I'm trying to educate myself as much as possible, and enjoy whatever the rest of my life happens to hold.
Here is my write-up of week 1 in these two courses:
Exploring the Foundations of Western Thought: Aristotle, Herodotus, and Dostoevsky
When my professor assigned readings from Aristotle's Nicomachean Ethics and Herodotus' Histories, I wasn't sure what to expect. These ancient texts written over 2,300 years ago seemed intimidating at first. Would they be relevant? Could I even understand them? What I discovered was astonishing - these foundational works contain insights that feel incredibly modern and speak directly to questions I've been wrestling with in my own life. Let me share what I found in my first encounter with these classics.
Aristotle's Nicomachean Ethics, Book I: What Makes a Good Life?
Aristotle begins with the ultimate question: what is the purpose of human life? I was struck by how practical his approach is. He doesn't start with abstract theories but with the observation that all human actions aim at some good. But what is the highest good that we seek for its own sake? According to Aristotle, it's eudaimonia - often translated as "happiness" but better understood as "flourishing" or "living well."
What's fascinating is that Aristotle doesn't think happiness is found in pleasure, wealth, or honor - all things our society often equates with success. Instead, he argues that true happiness comes from living virtuously and developing our uniquely human capacities to their fullest potential. In other words, living according to excellence (arete).
I found myself nodding along when Aristotle explained that a good life can't be judged by a single moment but must be evaluated over its entirety. It reminded me of how we often chase temporary pleasures when we should be thinking about long-term fulfillment.
Most striking was Aristotle's insistence that ethics isn't just theoretical knowledge but practical wisdom. It's not enough to know what virtue is; we must actively practice it. This idea that philosophy should be lived, not just studied, resonated deeply with me.
Herodotus' Histories, Book I (paragraphs 1-94): History as a Human Drama
Turning to Herodotus, I encountered something completely different yet equally captivating. Herodotus begins by stating his purpose: to preserve the great deeds of both Greeks and non-Greeks and investigate why they came into conflict. I was immediately drawn in by his storytelling approach.
The opening of the Histories plunges us into ancient conflicts between East and West, starting with mythological abductions (including the famous story of Helen of Troy) before moving to historical accounts of the rise of the Persian Empire.
What surprised me most was Herodotus' cultural relativism. He presents Persian customs and beliefs with the same respect he gives to Greek traditions. In an age where foreign cultures were often dismissed as "barbaric," Herodotus shows genuine curiosity about different ways of life.
The story of Croesus, the wealthy king of Lydia, was particularly memorable. Despite his immense riches, Croesus learns the hard way that material wealth doesn't guarantee happiness. When he asks Solon, the Athenian sage, who the happiest man in the world is, Croesus expects to hear his own name. Instead, Solon names ordinary people who lived virtuous lives and died honorably. Solon's message that we should "count no man happy until he's dead" (meaning we can only judge a life's happiness after it's complete) echoes Aristotle's point about evaluating life as a whole.
Croesus ignores this wisdom, attacks Persia, loses everything, and nearly gets executed. This cautionary tale about hubris and the fickleness of fortune feels remarkably relevant even today.
Connections and Reflections
What struck me most was how these two very different works complement each other. Aristotle provides a philosophical framework for understanding what makes a good life, while Herodotus shows us through stories how human ambition, pride, and fortune play out in real historical situations.
Both authors, in their own way, warn against equating happiness with external goods like wealth and power. Both emphasize looking at life as a complete whole rather than isolated moments of success or failure.
While Aristotle approaches his subject with logical analysis, Herodotus uses narrative and cultural comparison. Together, they represent two foundational approaches to understanding the human experience that continue to shape our thinking today.
As a student encountering these works for the first time, I'm amazed at how directly they speak to contemporary concerns. Reading these ancient authors doesn't feel like a dusty academic exercise but like joining a conversation that has been ongoing for millennia – a conversation about what it means to live well, to learn from others, and to understand our place in history.
Dostoevsky's The Brothers Karamazov: First Impressions (Week 1)
This quarter I'm also taking a course on Dostoevsky's final masterpiece, The Brothers Karamazov, and our first week's reading has been equally mind-blowing. We were assigned the section "From the author," along with Books 1 and 2 (pp. 3-91), and immediately I could see why this novel is considered one of the greatest ever written.
Dostoevsky begins with a fascinating author's note that sets up the novel as centered around "one rather odd man" - Alexei Fyodorovich Karamazov. I was struck by how Dostoevsky directly addresses the reader, explaining his narrative approach and even anticipating our potential objections! He seems almost anxious about whether we'll find his hero interesting enough, which feels surprisingly modern and self-aware for a 19th-century novelist.
Book 1, titled "A Nice Little Family," introduces us to the dysfunctional Karamazov clan. The father, Fyodor Pavlovich, is absolutely outrageous - a "wicked buffoon" who neglected his children, constantly plays the fool, and seems to delight in creating chaos. His three sons couldn't be more different from each other:
- Dmitri (Mitya): passionate, impulsive, caught in a love triangle and a financial dispute with his father
- Ivan: the intellectual, rational, seemingly detached
- Alexei (Alyosha): the spiritual one, gentle and kind, living as a novice in a monastery
What fascinates me is how Dostoevsky manages to create such psychologically complex characters in just a few pages. Each brother seems to represent different aspects of human nature - sensuality, intellect, and spirituality - yet they never feel like mere symbols. They're deeply human, contradictory, and alive.
In Book 2, "An Inappropriate Gathering," the family meets at the monastery with Elder Zosima, hoping to resolve the financial dispute between Dmitri and his father. Instead of resolution, we get an explosive scene where all the characters' conflicting personalities clash. The father behaves scandalously, Dmitri flies into a rage, and Ivan remains coolly analytical. Meanwhile, Alyosha watches in dismay as his family falls apart.
What struck me most was Elder Zosima's wisdom and compassion. Despite the Karamazovs' awful behavior, he treats them with understanding rather than judgment. His discussion with Ivan about faith and doubt hints at the profound philosophical questions the novel will explore.
I can already see connections between Dostoevsky and the ancient texts we've been reading. Like Aristotle, Dostoevsky is deeply concerned with ethics and what constitutes a good life. Like Herodotus, he uses compelling narratives to explore human nature in all its complexity. But Dostoevsky adds psychological depth and spiritual questioning that feels distinctly modern.
I can't wait to dive deeper into all these texts and discover what other wisdom they hold. These first encounters with Aristotle, Herodotus, and Dostoevsky have already expanded my understanding of literature, philosophy, and what it means to be human.