Because I have spoken to them so much about Brothers Karamazov and Dostoevsky, I have definitely given all my close friends some sort of a trauma and a trigger that comes for free with it. There is so much to say that if I start, this time—it might never end. So, in what I can say now:
If I imagine all the books and literature ever written, anywhere, anytime, by anyone—put them in one big pile. Brothers Karamazov will be standing separate from all of them. It is truly, the supreme summit of all literature. How many tears have I shed against my will when turning the rusty pages of my thousand page copy of the book.
I refuse to believe that a human being can possess such a depth of soul to most literally, "extract" Karamozov family onto ink and paper. What is left when you do that?
Profoundly life-changing, cannot stress enough how non-casually I mean this. I always tell family and friends, there is my life "before Karamozov" and "after Karamazov". It has been many years since I first read the novel and there hasn’t been a single day, when I haven’t thought of something from the story and its characters.
If you read Brothers Karamazov at least once in your life, then it’s a life worth spent.