SEER, 96, 2, APRIL 2018 340 Academy, Dmitry Grigorovich. If Dostoevskii does not emerge as a likeable character (this much we already knew; his elder brother Mikhail by contrast comes across as a saint), then the rounded and fair-minded picture we are given at least makes him more understandable. There is no attempt to hide Dostoevskii’s frankly unpleasant traits or behaviour, but we also see the pressures he was under, the understanding of his own talent and struggles to realize it, and the tensions between uncontrollable vanity and self-doubt that are more than a little reminiscent of Mr Goliadkin and his double, on whose story Dostoevskii was also working in this period. Marullo’s selection is very revealing of Dostoevskii’s creative process and his personality. Subsequent volumes covering the rest of the author’s life will make excellent companion pieces to existing, more traditional, biographies, and are to be eagerly anticipated. UCL SSEES Sarah J. Young Wyman, Alina. The Gift of Active Empathy: Scheler, Bakhtin, and Dostoevsky. Studies in Russian Literature and Theory. Northwestern University Press, Evanston, IL, 2016. xiv + 323 pp. Notes. Bibliography. Index. $39.95 (paperback). Bakhtin’s book on Dostoevskii was attacked as ‘idealist’ by its first Marxist reviewers in 1929. Ever since, its dazzling but not watertight case for polyphony and the dialogic word has prompted philosophically equipped critics to offer correctives. Alina Wyman is among the best. Her method is to use the younger Bakhtin to improve upon the older, with the help of the German phenomenologist Max Scheler, whose work on sympathy Bakhtin admired. Add a Schelerian supplement, Wyman suggests, and Bakhtin’s early Kantian ruminations on self-other relations — where my ‘I’ is dutybound to consummate yours — can be made compatible with his Dostoevskii study, which promotes radical incompleteness and shared being. Bakhtin on Dostoevskii is problematic. On the level of character, a constant privileging of the other in dialogue and the ‘coexistence-and-interaction’ mandate in polyphony ignore a hero’s growth over time and discourage cultivation of a private zone. On the level of novelistic construction, the leveling effects of dialogue and polyphony obscure Dostoevskii’s hierarchy of values. But balance can be restored if we revive Bakhtin’s early concept of vzhivanie or ‘live entering’: the ‘active empathy’ of the title. This is not Nietzsche’s despised pity, reactive and duplicative. ‘Active’ here means morally potent. The empathizer does not collapse into the other’s pain. Rather, my ‘I’ briefly steps in to your space (the mechanism here is unclear), our horizons momentarily coincide REVIEWS 341 and are mutually enriched, after which we return to our separate selves. Such compassionate, temporary consummation of ‘I’ and ‘other’ is never a finalization, never a fusion, always a possible way out. To be properly understood, Wyman contends, Dostoevskii’s positive heroes need both Bakhtin and Scheler. Scheler’s model permits a self to retain a private ‘surplus’, its own ‘individual ineffable’, which gives it the dignity, traction for change, and trust in the wholeness of its own embodied image that Bakhtin withholds. To presume unfinalizability or full open access in human encounters is not an unalloyed good. In pursuit of optimal mutual incarnation in Dostoevskii, Wyman organizes her study in three sections. The introduction and first two chapters lay out the fragile, fraught task of empathy, the intuiting of another’s consciousness. Chapters four to six are microreadings of actively empathetic moments in three masterworks: House of the Dead, The Idiot and Brothers Karamazov. The prison quasi-memoir is partially successful (but mostly in retrospect). The Idiot is largely a failure (Myshkin’s fusing with the sufferer makes matters worse). Alesha Karamazov is a victory. Alesha knows his own mind, acts on it, can be sorrowful when humiliated but is not insulted, and thus manages to consummate others but not finalize them, making him everyone’s favoured ‘uniquely competent friend’ (p. 215). Bridging these two sections is chapter three, a dark digression on anti-empathy in the Underground through Scheler’s concept of resentment. When, out of a misguided quest for freedom, the Underground Man refuses to incarnate himself, an impotent unfinalizable fury sets in, and forever. Sixty pages...