There are a thousand ways to review a book. I recall reading a column ages ago where Bill Buckley interviewed himself. Clever. About a year and a half ago I played with that format to review Middlemarch. It worked.

But then I read The Brothers Karamazov last month and thought it might work again. Better, I thought I could have a real argument with myself about the book: Me fighting with the Other Me about what Dostoevsky’s last novel means, and how to read it, etc. It’s a little contentious and was a lot of fun to write.

If you love TBK or are interested in reading it, this might be right up your alley.