I recently finished reading Notes from Underground by Fyodor Dostoevsky, and it’s been sitting heavily on my mind. First published in 1864, the book is often called one of the earliest existentialist novels, and after reading it, I can see why. It’s raw, challenging, and deeply philosophical.
The story is told by the “Underground Man,” an unnamed narrator who has isolated himself from society. He’s a retired civil servant living in St. Petersburg, and he spends his days trapped in his own thoughts. His voice is bitter and scathing, full of contradictions, but also painfully honest. What struck me most about him is his self-awareness—he knows exactly how flawed he is, but he seems unable or unwilling to change. It’s frustrating to read at times, but also incredibly relatable. How often do we recognize our own bad habits but still struggle to break free from them?
One of the central themes of the book is free will. The Underground Man pushes back against the idea that humans are purely rational and always act in their best interest. Instead, he argues that people sometimes make irrational choices simply to prove they can—just to assert their freedom. It’s a powerful idea that feels surprisingly relevant even today. In a world that values optimization and efficiency, this stubborn insistence on irrationality feels strangely human.
Another theme that stood out to me was loneliness. The Underground Man is deeply alienated, and yet he craves connection. His interactions with other people, especially Liza, are painful to watch. He wants to be understood, but he sabotages every chance he gets. The scenes with Liza are especially moving—she offers him compassion and a chance at redemption, but he lashes out at her, pushing her away. It’s heartbreaking, but also a reminder of how fear and insecurity can prevent us from accepting kindness when we need it most.
What I find fascinating about this book is how timeless it feels. Even though it was written more than 150 years ago, the struggles of the Underground Man still resonate today. His bitterness, his self-doubt, his need to prove something to himself and others—it’s all so familiar. Dostoevsky doesn’t give us easy answers, but he forces us to confront the uncomfortable truths about human nature.
Reading Notes from Underground isn’t easy—it’s the kind of book that challenges you, makes you uncomfortable, and leaves you thinking long after you’ve closed it. But that’s also what makes it so powerful. It’s a book that asks hard questions about who we are, why we act the way we do, and what it really means to be free.
If you’re looking for a book that digs deep into the human psyche and doesn’t shy away from complexity, I highly recommend Notes from Underground. It’s not a light read, but it’s one that will stay with you.