Fyodor Pavlovich Examines His Bruises (Book VIII: Mitya, facing p.308) 1949

This is Fritz Eichenberg's print for Dostoevsky's "The Brothers Karamazov," where the protagonist, Fyodor Pavlovich, stares at his reflection, probably made with wood engraving. The marks are so incredibly dense and rich, creating a world of texture and shadow. Look how the light catches the folds of his clothes and the grotesque detail of his face in the mirror. It's almost sculptural, and the way the light falls suggests a kind of moral chiaroscuro, right? Like, what is being illuminated, and what is being left in the dark? Consider the way Eichenberg uses the physicality of the medium to depict the character's inner turmoil, that tight, almost claustrophobic space. The reflection isn’t just a mirror image, it’s a twisted, grotesque version of himself, hinting at the darkness within. The cross-hatching feels like it's not just describing form, but also scratching at the surface, revealing something disturbing underneath. It reminds me a little of Goya, in that it’s a reflection on the darker aspects of human nature. Art like this embraces the mess and murk of ambiguity, and invites us to really look, and maybe see something we don’t want to.