Sophistication

I am currently reading The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoevsky, translated from the Russian by Pevear & Volokhonsky. It is my third attempt, and this time I suspect I will finish it. I can say only now with certainty that I did not fully appreciate the novel the first two times around. It took faith in critics and in friends, multiple friends, to keep me interested enough to return to it a third time. For whatever reason, I am now prepared to notice the genius of the text. I wonder which of my life experiences in the last couple of years prepared me for this novel?

I write this here because the same thing happens in classical music and, I believe, in any art. As we gain life experience, we tend to understand and appreciate more works of art. And we tend to understand works we enjoyed before in more profound ways. (The great artist is always waiting for everyone else to catch up.)

I imagine there are people who have experienced the essences of much of what is commonly available to all humans possessing the requisite amount of intellect. This is what is meant by the term "sophisticated." Life for these people must be extraordinary, for they get to enjoy the works of geniuses from far away in time and in space. Goethe was probably one such person, and he wrote about the idea:

"And I want to savor in my inner self whatever's the lot of all mankind, to grasp the highest and deepest with my mind, to heap man's wells and woes on my bosom..." --Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (from Faust)