My experience with Russian lit is unfortunately quite limited. People speak of it very highly! The only other classic Russian book I've read is Notes From Underground also by Dostoyevsky, which quickly became one of my favorite books of all time. As a loose continuation of that story and its themes, Crime and Punishment unsurprisingly captivated me even more! It's a little funny thinking back, I was going to read Crime first for a philosophy course project in uni, but went with Notes instead simply because it was half the length. I'm actually really glad I coincidentally read them in this order, I found my previous exposure was super relevant and valuable for understanding Crime and Punishment. By no means am I picky with translations, I chose the Constance Garnett version (1914) because it was the first available on the archive.org e-reader (love that thing). I think I also have a soft spot for older archaic English, so it works out.
***Where to even begin? This book has such interesting characters, conversations, settings, ideas, and gripping suspense! It's probably not worthwhile to follow plot points chronologically, considering this is for book club members who also just read it, or someone else reading multiple reviews. Rather, I'd like to write about my interpretations of the themes and how they were expressed through the characters.
Really, the title of the book itself, Crime and Punishment, is actually kind of misleading. The story does of course tackle criminal action and legal consequences, but the primary focus of the book is instead about internal struggles of ethical conscience. Especially when you consider the very lax sentence Rodya receives for murder, the titular "punishment" suggests the real agony comes from self-alienation and broken relationships rather than anything material. However, Dostoyevsky successfully forced me to keep the title in mind, and I always felt like Rodya's imprisonment was impending and inescapable despite all the dramatic twists keeping him free.
Rodion "Rodya" Raskolnikov, the main protagonist, is a broke, nihilistic, compassionate, misanthropist. Rodya bears a striking resemblance to the unnamed protagonist of Notes From Underground. Both protagonists expound often how they hate people and think others are beneath them, both have incongruent actions where they treat others better than themselves, and neither of them admits to being a nihilist as if it's a brand of shame. Rodya, by virtue of having a longer book, has a more developed character and web of relationships. As such, he has more to lose and the stakes are higher. You can't help feeling pity for him, or wish that you could talk him down from another bad decision, but does that reflect poorly on you that you feel compassion for a murderer? Dostoyevsky doesn't even have to ask that rhetorical question for you to be aware of it. Instead, he chooses to write Rodya in such a way that demonstrates his humanity and his self-fulfilling cycle of self-destruction, whether he deserves sympathy or not.
Rodya struggles with his own thoughts and conscience near constantly, even before committing the murders in the first place. His values and ethics, who he is, how he feels, what he believes, what is true, how the world should be, the usual. After the murders, this conflicting guilt makes him violently ill and drives him to the brink of madness. Throughout the whole story, Rodya's motive for killing was vague and unclear to every character, including Rodya himself, and even to the reader. Rodya explained himself a few times, albeit each time was inconsistent. Among the motives Rodya himself gives, he killed for the money to go back to school, he killed because Alyona was evil, he killed in order to prove to himself if he was an extraordinary man to whom laws don't apply (from Great Man Theory), and he killed to take on more suffering. Out of all these, in my opinion I think the only true motive is the last one.
There's plenty of evidence that Rodya didn't care about the money. He failed to rob the money efficiently, didn't check the amount he actually did steal, buried the items and never cashed in, never even seriously considered going back to school, and regularly throws money away to beggars or the Neva River. He definitely didn't kill because he considered Alyona evil either. One of the reasons during his premeditation is that he might free Lizaveta from Alyona's abuse, but of course he only ended up killing Lizaveta as well, plus he even admitted to himself later that he often forgets Lizaveta was involved at all. Not once during the book did he ever relish killing Alyona with a sense of revenge nor justice, and the murder itself was carried out emotionless, on autopilot. It's true he lacked remorse, which makes him seem quite sociopathic, in the end though I think he was indifferent to Alyona. I also have doubts about his Great Man Theory. Rodya goes back and forth if he even believes it, and can't keep to a consistent argument for his stance. His article, his addendum given to Porfiry, and his motive given to Sonia all seem to be slightly different. None of the times he talks about it sounds like he entirely knows what he's talking about, there's very little conviction behind it and I'm not convinced. Rodya feels the need to correct and clarify himself when his already published article is brought up. It would make the most sense to me that Rodya heard a bit from another source when he was younger and naïvely adopted the idea. It's noted a few times how young a student Rodya is, and Great Man Theory was contemporary during the time period. Several other characters in the story are also demonstrated as only half-sure of their ideologies, and I don't see Rodya as an exception.
I am fairly certain Rodya's only completely true motive for committing murder was to suffer. Furthermore, I think his desire to suffer explains most of his actions beyond his crime, and I also believe this was the scathing criticism of nihilism Dostoyevsky meant to portray in the first place. While it was never referenced in Crime and Punishment, the main philosophical question posed by the protagonist of Notes From Underground is as follows: "which is better — cheap happiness or exalted sufferings?" Rodya behaves the same as the destitute Notes protag, he is always seeking suffering, retreating to familiar pain for comfort, and exalting others whom he perceives as sacrificial too. Self-sacrifice is an act of love in his eyes, the purest and holiest form. From voluntarily throwing all his money away over and over, to his acceptance of beatings, to his willingness to reject everyone he loves. He grows so attached to Marmeladov for being a horrible alcoholic that proudly accepts his fate and punishments, and he absolutely reveres Sonia for sinking down into prostitution to provide for her family.
On the other hand, Rodya experiences a great deal of cognitive dissonance. He interferes with his sister's, Dounia's, wedding because he predicts the rich husband will take advantage of her. Hypocritically, he says he will never allow Dounia to sacrifice herself for the family's sake. Along the same lines, in part four Rodya has an emotional confrontation with Sonia, projecting onto her as he says the famous quote "your worst sin is that you have destroyed and betrayed yourself for nothing." In both these scenes, Rodya is afraid of his loved ones sacrificing themselves because he indirectly acknowledges his own sacrifices are ultimately worthless. He takes on burden after burden, but what does it matter how he loses if the people he cares about also gain nothing? In so doing, he must view himself as a failure and hate himself. This leads to a deep depression where he feels utterly undeserving of love. A spiral of seeking love and pushing people away, preferring the pain of loneliness over the guilt of letting people down. His sacrificial sufferings are the only illusion of love he can safely cling to. He doesn't consciously know it, but he wishes nobody should ever live like him. Sonia is the only person he can barely open up to because he thinks they are both already on the same path, and believes that they would sacrifice for each other.
The question of the motive for murder can be answered considering Rodya's state of mind in this context. Feeling hopeless and powerless, and unable to identify why exactly he suffers for nothing, he could only hold onto his previous Great Man Theory. It gave him the false hope that maybe all extraordinary men suffer extraordinarily, and by testing if he was above the law, he might prove to himself that his present suffering will amount to a great future destiny. More importantly, he was able to feel powerful at his most powerless. Whatever half-hearted romantic justification he attempted to cope with, he was still able to exercise his will on someone else's life. At Rodya's core, he only knew he needed hope and power, and was fully aware of the guilt that would come with it. He saw the guilt as yet another precious sacrifice to endure, so he welcomed it. That promise of a new exalted suffering was the sole reason he didn't stop himself from carrying out the murder.
Herein lies how Dostoyevsky views nihilism. It's never made clear whether nihilism is the cause or the effect, regardless the argument is that nihilism is invariably linked with depression, hopelessness, alienation, suffering, and delusion. Other characters with great sufferings who are not nihilistic serve as a contrast to Rodya. Particularly, Sonia bears the most burden and nevertheless finds hope and love in religion, something Rodya mocks as foolish. Additionally, the epilogue detailed the year-long process of Rodya escaping his depression by accepting Sonia's devotion while in prison. He begins to hope for a love-filled life after jail, his fellow inmates start to like him finally, and he questions his atheism. This short redemption in the resolution of the story shows that shedding nihilism restores hope, friendship, and love, again, no matter if nihilism was the cause or the effect.
***I think I was most intrigued by Rodya's character and how it was used to convey this idea. It's probably because my entire aforementioned uni project was about analyzing the nihilist criticism in Notes From Underground. That, and Rodya was generally relatable for me since he's such an observer. I find it remarkable how the book describes Rodya's pattern of overthinking and dissociation. I don't think I've ever read a story before that conveys accurately how it feels to think in steps and lose all train of thought in anxiety once one step is interrupted. I imagine it's a pretty universal experience given enough situational stress, but I live with this pattern often and it hits close to home.
Well, now that the analysis I was cooking is out of my system, it's time for my Very Organized Totally Normal Miscellaneous Thoughts!
Dounia is such a badass omg, she's like as smart and quick as Rodya but if she was actually a good person?? And for real doesn't take shit from nobody. Like, I absolutely lost it when she kept that MF THANG on her, holy shit. Kinda messed up that Dounia and Razumihin kept Rodya's jail time a secret though, they should've just been honest and maybe Pulcheria wouldn't have tragically died of anxiety. Cute couple at least. "Dounia" and "Rodya" are also both really cute nicknames for the siblings. Everyone's right, Sonia was like an actual legit angel, and while I'm glad Rodya eventually probably happily married her, I secretly think she deserves better. I mean, he never felt remorse for killing! Only getting caught! Sonia was like the only one who called him out on it too dude. A bit surprising that for a book named Crime and Punishment the actual Siberian prison experience was rehabilitative and a "resurrection". Probably a little autobiographical of Dostoyevsky though, since he was only narrowly saved from a death penalty in real life. I thought it was cool when the story used the word "criminal" because it was rare and always at a time when it felt the most dehumanizing, it added so much weight. I don't care if that was original or translator, it was a great effect. I was a little surprised by the presence of minor feminist themes in the book. It's clear Dostoyevsky has a feminist stance, and the male character with the least misogyny is Rodya (except for the one time he immediately caught himself in delirium, or tried to "act natural" in front of other men). Speaking of which, I thought the inclusion of Lebeziatnikov was super fascinating. I was floored when I saw his character basically existed as a blatant jab at stereotypical pseudointellectual champagne socialists. Dostoyevsky even pretty much called him a performative feminist cuck! Cannot believe I read a 2020s Twitter take randomly in this 1860s novel. Porfiry was sorta interesting, his words were so carefully picked and he was so methodical despite him never shutting up ever. His presence was very intimidating juxtaposed by his extremely friendly facade, a true cop antagonist. All the scenes of Katerina and the Marmeladov children were really hard to read through, they triggered me every time. Svidrigaïlov totally deserved his death by the way. Revolting. Yes I do believe a sexual predator including child victims deserves worse punishment than a literal murderer (assuming Marfa's death was actually an accident anyway), bite me.