Reading The Brothers Karamazov with ChatGPT

Originally published on Substack — April 2025

A Journey from Engineer to Literary Explorer

I didn’t expect a Russian novel from 1880 to change the way I think about AI, or myself. But that’s exactly what happened.

From Equations to Existentialism

In university, I refused to take anything other than math, science, and engineering courses. I prided myself on this decision. Literature, philosophy, and the so-called "humanities" felt like distractions from the serious work of understanding the world through numbers and logic. I wanted to grasp the fundamental laws of reality—the kind Maxwell, Einstein and Feynman explored. What could a novelist teach me about reality that physics hadn’t already explained?

It took me two decades to realize that physics teaches you about the fabric of the universe, but Dostoevsky teaches you about the fabric of being human.

The realization began in Taiwan. I had moved there in my twenties to learn hardware and manufacturing. My friend Phil helped me land a job at a local wireless tech company. Since I didn’t speak Chinese, I was placed into software engineering—a field I had no formal training in. After months of isolation, culture shock, and frustration, I began to unravel.

That Christmas, my mother—perhaps sensing my struggles were internal—gave me Crime and Punishment. It was my first exposure, on my own terms, to a great work of literature. Raskolnikov’s psychological descent was unlike anything I had encountered. Dark, twisted, strangely perfect. It became exactly what I needed.

That book marked the beginning of a private ritual. Ever since, literature is what allows me to quiet my mind and sleep well at night. I once tried meditation—it never worked. Instead, I discovered that I needed to substitute my reality with a parallel universe.

The Journey to The Brothers Karamazov

Over the years, I’ve read most of the classics, especially Russian literature. Anna Karenina was breathtaking. And until recently, War and Peace had been my favorite. Tolstoy’s ability to weave personal drama with historical epic seemed unparalleled.

But I always saved The Brothers Karamazov for last. I knew it was the hardest. I knew it was dense. I wanted to be ready.

And yet, when I finally opened The Brothers Karamazov, something unexpected happened: I wasn’t reading it alone.

I read it with ChatGPT.

Initially, ChatGPT was just a comprehension tool. But quickly it became something more—a companion in philosophical inquiry. We explored Russian history, political systems, and Dostoevsky’s personal beliefs. The novel became a living conversation.

In the past, I resisted pausing my reading to look things up. Not from a lack of curiosity—I have extreme curiosity. The problem was, if I opened Google, I’d lose myself for 45 minutes in distractions. ChatGPT changed that. It constrained my exploratory journeys just enough to let my explorer spirit come alive.

This, I realized, is how to read with depth: chase every thread without falling off the loom.

A World of Passion and Chaos: Meeting the Karamazovs

The sheer intensity of The Brothers Karamazov struck me immediately. Fyodor Pavlovich is a buffoon. Dimitri burns with wild passion. Ivan is brilliant but tortured. Alyosha quietly holds everything together.

ChatGPT helped me untangle the character relationships. Who exactly is Smerdyakov? Why does everyone revere Alyosha? And what makes Dimitri so wildly self-destructive yet impossible to condemn?

One early misconception was about Grushenka. I first saw her as a femme fatale. Yet through deeper reading and conversation, I realized she was far more complex. Her transformation—from cynical manipulator to someone capable of genuine love—became one of the novel’s most moving arcs for me.

Russia at a Crossroads: Power, Faith, and Revolution

At one point, I asked ChatGPT something simple: Did they even have electricity at this time? The answer was no—Russia was still largely pre-electric. But that led me to a bigger question: What kind of economy and political system did Russia have?

Russia was Tsarist, neither feudal nor capitalist, but transitioning. This era of radical political ideas spreading among intellectuals resonated deeply in the novel. Ivan’s atheism foreshadowed Bolshevik ideology. Dostoevsky opposed these modern ideologies, favoring a return to something more ancient.

I knew Tolstoy had complicated religious views but hadn’t thought much about Dostoevsky’s personal faith. Through ChatGPT, I learned Dostoevsky was a devout Russian Orthodox Christian. This revelation transformed my understanding. Alyosha suddenly made sense as Dostoevsky’s vision of true faith, and Ivan, despite his brilliance, was spiritually adrift.

Ivan’s nightmare—his conversation with the devil—was particularly haunting. ChatGPT helped me grasp that the devil didn’t argue against Ivan’s beliefs—he trivialized them, reducing reason to absurdity.

The Trial of Dimitri Karamazov—And the Trial of My Own Beliefs

Dimitri’s trial engrossed me like a legal thriller. I was convinced he’d be acquitted—the evidence was weak, the defense spectacular.

Yet Dimitri was convicted. Furious, I asked ChatGPT: Why?

The unsettling answer: the jury convicted Dimitri based on emotion, not logic. He was judged for being Dimitri—passionate, volatile, reckless. The trial wasn’t about evidence; it was about perception. And perception became reality.

The trial challenged my own views about human nature and perception profoundly. I desperately wanted more resolution, but Dostoevsky left it open-ended. ChatGPT clarified that Dostoevsky prioritized spiritual transformation over narrative closure.

The Novel That Changed Me Forever

I used to think War and Peace was my favorite novel. Now, I’m not so sure. The Brothers Karamazov is harder, stranger, more frustrating—but also more profound.

Reading it with ChatGPT made the novel feel alive—a conversation unfolding across centuries. Dostoevsky couldn’t have imagined AI-assisted reading, but I believe he would appreciate anything that makes people deeply wrestle with big ideas.

I once believed physics could explain everything—space, time, reality itself.

Now I know: Dostoevsky reveals something just as fundamental—the hidden structure of the human soul.