April 25, 2026
by Alessandro Pertosa Good, when it manifests itself without defenses, has something profoundly destabilizing. It does not coincide with ordered and recognized virtue, nor with justice that is imposed by the force of reason; rather it takes the form of disarmed goodness, almost unaware of itself. Prince Myshkin inhabits this point of vertigo: more than a simply good man, he is the place where goodness, crossing fragility, becomes visible in its most exposed nakedness. For this reason he appears off-axis, almost mad and disjointed, like an excessive and disjointed presence, fallen from a height that the world now struggles to recognise. The fragility of the character, of his way of being in the world, does not accompany the goodness of …
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