Why, oh why, am I doing this to myself? Blame it on War and Peace and the remarkable skills of Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky whose translations of prominent Russian fiction have become ubiquitous. Part of my motivation in choosing War and Peace as my first big novel of 2015 was my utter lack of exposure to Russian literature. Thus, my decision to round out my exposure even further with some Dostoevsky, his shortest novel, just to be on the safe side: over-exposure to Russian literature is a very real, dangerous thing. However, I think I would have benefited greatly from choosing a Dostoevsky novel with more of an actual plot, because this is nothing more than 120 pages of rambling monologue that perfectly encapsulates all my pre-conceived notions of the book, based solely on the men I have known who admire it.