At the heart of every human search is the hope of resurrection. To live new life, to feel new feelings, to see new sights – these longings seek fulfillment in every aspect of the human experience. The prospect of resurrection is what drives us to endure the harshest suffering, to engage in the uncomfortable, to take on more than we can handle. We seem to instinctively know that on the other side of pain there is something that will eclipse even the struggle undergone to attain it.  And yet, in some sense, the anticipated resurrection is never achieved. Months of saving lead to an exquisite dinner, but the taste of new life has faded by the next morning’s sunrise. The hard-fought promotion does not deliver. Even the effects of a much sought after religious “experience” are found to be fleeting.

Dostoevsky’s The Eternal Husband,¹ at its heart, is a short novel about this search. The two main characters, Velchaninov and his adversary Trusotsky, find themselves in need of new life, and both attempt to seek it in the innocence of others. For example, Trusotsky, a middle-aged man who has very recently lost his wife and daughter, rushes into a marriage to a fifteen-year-old girl, saying, “I’m quite unable to do without being married and – without new faith, sir. I’ll believe and resurrect” (200). Velchaninov later perceptively observes:

“Only such a Quasimodo could conceive the thought of ‘resurrection into a new life’ – by means of [the fifteen-year-old girl]’s innocence! But…it’s not your fault: you’re a monster, and therefore everything in you must be monstrous – both your dreams and your hopes” (229).

Trusotsky’s monstrosity consists in his belief that the innocence of another creature might somehow act as a transformative power in his own life to bring about his resurrection.

The irony of Velchaninov’s insightful comment is that he is unable to see his own “monstrosity.” In fact, he is essentially attempting to do the very same thing for which he has condemned Trusotsky. When Velchaninov learns that he has a nine-year-old daughter of which he had no previous knowledge, he catches a glimpse of a possible resurrection:

“His heart beat faster at the thought that today…he would see his Liza again… ‘My whole life and my whole purpose are now in that! …And what have I even lived for so far? Disorder and sadness…but now – everything’s different, everything’s changed!’” (140).

Re-birth, resurrection, transformation – whatever one might like to call it, both characters recognize their need for it. In the novel, the stubbornness of sins remembered meets the inability to make oneself innocent, leading to the idolatry of human persons who are foolishly perceived as having the ability to impart resurrection, to make the monstrous heart new.

The Eternal Husband functions as a mirror for the resurrection-searching reader. It brings into focus our desire for resurrection, our need for innocence, and the monstrous manifestation that our search for these things so often takes. Though the author does not make the connection for the reader, it is not too much to say that in the Gospel, this search reaches its goal. In Christ we behold the ultimate and truly innocent one, who can and has absorbed our monstrousness, who offers present new-creation transformation, and the hope of future resurrection life. In the Gospel, the once monstrous but now innocent heart has found its true home, and the words of Velchaninov take on a wholly new meaning: “And what have I even lived for so far? Disorder and sadness…but now – everything’s different, everything’s changed!”

1. Dostoevsky, Fyodor. The Eternal Husband and Other Stories. Translated by Pevear and Volokhonsky. Bantam Classic, 2008. In-text citations refer to this volume. It should be noted that I am avoiding most of the plot details, and have made every attempt to refrain from “spoilers” so as to encourage the reading of the novel.