Crime and Punishment
(Fyodor Dostoevsky)
Part I
Chapter 1
Raskolnikov—In Chapter 1, we meet Raskolnikov, a young student—tall, sensitive, and handsome, with fine features. But Raskolnikov was also dirt poor and had cut himself off from the world for some time. Shabbily dressed and with nothing to eat for the past two days, he managed to sneak out of his closet-sized attic room and past his landlady’s open door as he descended the five flights of stairs leading outside. Aside from not wanting to listen to his landlady’s chatter, Raskolnikov was way behind on his rent and couldn’t have paid even if he wanted to.
Dark thoughts—But today, having successfully snuck out, Raskolnikov sensed something more like terror rather than his usual fear. He had been having dark, frightening thoughts, and though he dismissed them at first, they had recently taken on a new reality as they began to hatch into a plan instead of a mere fantasy. He became acutely aware of this when a drunk singled him out by his German hat—once fancy but now shabby and ridiculous—and Raskolnikov realized that he would need to replace it with something less obvious. Every detail had to be in place for his plan to work. Anything less could spell disaster.
An unpleasant city setting; avoiding people—The Haymarket area of central St. Petersburg was known for its bars and brothels, and today the stench of the city in summer was intensified by the sweltering July weather. Navigating his way through these unpleasant circumstances, at once terrified and fascinated by his dark thoughts and the power they implied, Raskolnikov headed over to pawn one of his few possessions—his late father’s silver pocket watch—to a mean, suspicious old woman who lived in a tenement nearby. The streets were crowded, but in general Raskolnikov was oblivious to the people, preferring to avoid them. He couldn’t help noticing the intensity of his fear, and he wondered how he would handle it if his idle dark thoughts transformed into reality.
Pawning his possessions; a keen observation—Alena Ivanovna was hardly welcoming when she saw Raskolnikov. Reminding him that he owed interest on his last pledge, she informed him that the items he brought were junk. The watch was not worth the four rubles he was asking. She would pay no more than one and a half, and she would dock the interest. Shocked, but feeling he had no choice, Raskolnikov reluctantly agreed and left with the one ruble and fifteen kopeks Alena Ivanovna gave him. As he was heading out, he pretended to casually ask about her sister’s whereabouts, though, in truth, he was never casual about anything. His mind was always active—observing, surmising, imagining. He noticed the faded yet spotless condition of her apartment and the specific jingle of her keys as she opened the drawers in the next room; and he guessed what those details meant: who kept the apartment so clean (probably Lizaveta, the old woman’s younger sister—certainly not Alena Ivanovna herself); which of the old woman’s keys belonged to which drawer or chest; the fact that no one else ever seemed to be there.
Raskolnikov stops at a tavern for a bite to eat—Alena Ivanovna was not receptive to his question about Lizaveta. Why should that interest him? And so, Raskolnikov left, still accompanied by his dark thoughts, which had reached an intense pitch by the time he got outside. How could he even contemplate such a vile act? Filled with self-hatred, he continued walking, when he suddenly felt an urgent need for a cold beer, having had nothing for two days. He had never been in a pub before, but now he ducked down into a dark, dingy tavern. After some beer and a bit of bread, he noticed his thoughts clearing and his spirits lifting, but that in itself troubled him—that a bit of food could change his condition so easily. Still, he was feeling more sociable, so he looked around at the few men seated in the pub, all in various states of drunkenness and dozing, singing, or just sitting there in their anger or misery.
Chapter 2
A sudden desire to interact—Something had shifted within Raskolnikov—something deeper than just the obvious revival that came from having a bite to eat and drink. He was feeling more cheerful and friendly in spite of the rank and dingy setting, with its overpowering smell of liquor; and after a month of isolation and misery, he felt a strong desire for contact with other people. That did not, however, include most of the people in the room, whom he considered beneath him. But one man, a retired government clerk, had caught his eye, and the interest seemed to be mutual.
Marmeladov—This man was not attractive in a physical sense. His puffy skin and yellow complexion indicated that he had had too much to drink over the years. His clothing and overall appearance were disheveled, as though he knew better but had stopped caring, and though he carried himself well, he was obviously depressed. Yet through it all, there shone a clear intelligence but also a certain degree of insanity.
Marmeladov approaches Raskolnikov—Titular Councilor Marmeladov finally introduced himself to Raskolnikov in a loud voice. In spite of Raskolnikov’s shabby appearance, Marmeladov had recognized in him a level of education and distinction that he respected, and he wanted to talk to him. Raskolnikov recoiled at first despite his initial interest, but Marmeladov was soon sitting next to him with his bottle, pouring out his life story and his frustrations with his poverty, his marriage, and his general state of humiliation. Worst of all, he seemed desperate, with the feeling that he had nowhere to turn. Like Raskolnikov, he knew the humiliation of having to ask for a loan, but he also knew that the man he went to would refuse to give him one. Marmeladov’s story was well known to the pub regulars, including the owner and his boy workers, and it drew repeated snickers. He ignored all that, focusing on Raskolnikov instead, but it was clear that he was as desperate for compassion as he was for material aid. In fact, it was that need for compassion that had finally driven him back to drinking.
Marmeladov’s story—Marmeladov had been a civil servant and out of compassion had married a younger widow with three small children. He also had a daughter from a previous marriage, and though she worked hard, she earned only a few kopeks a day. When Marmeladov lost his job because of government reorganization, his family fell into abject poverty. At that point, he resumed his old habit of drinking. As a result, his wife became abusive towards him, and the stress resulted in her contracting consumption. Eventually, the family moved to St. Petersburg, where Marmeladov begged to have his old job back and was granted his wish through the kindness of his former employer, who took him back on trust. In the meantime, his daughter, Sonya, had been driven to prostitution because of harsh, unfair criticism and an apparent suggestion by Marmeladov’s wife, Katerina Ivanovna. Sonya’s contribution kept the family going for a while, but when Marmeladov got his old job back, he had high hopes of providing for everyone and saving his daughter from her humiliating fate. With Marmeladov working again, things seemed to be improving. His wife softened her attitude towards him, and the whole family treated him with respect.
The twist—But Marmeladov’s story had a twist. The day he brought home his first paycheck, Marmeladov was rewarded with affectionate words from his wife. That was the day he indulged in his dreams of making everything better for his family. Then, the next evening, for some unexplained reason he secretly took all the money he had brought home, fled the apartment, traded in his uniform for his current shabby outfit, and spent the next five nights on a hay barge. That was five days ago. Once back, he went to beg Sonya for money. Knowing full well what would happen, she gave him her last thirty kopeks, which Marmeladov promptly spent on drinking. His daughter didn’t scold or criticize. In fact, she said nothing—she merely gave him the money. That, to Marmeladov, was the way of heaven—the fact that she gave without scolding even though she needed it herself.
Despair and inspiration—By now, Marmeladov had mixed feelings about himself and his actions. His gestures of despair were mixed with occasional giggles, and he wondered who could possibly feel sorry for him. The other pagers agreed. They thought he was ridiculous and laughed him to scorn. But he continued to focus on Raskolnikov, who by this point had grown uncomfortable with Marmeladov’s outpouring. Yet in his despair and inspired by his daughter’s compassion, Marmeladov now spoke of the Christly forgiveness that awaited all, saint and sinner alike. It was a forgiveness beyond the usual human sense of things—an all-encompassing acceptance and love that would erase everything else.
Raskolnikov helps Marmeladov—That drew more laughter and scorn from the others, and having exhausted his supply of liquor, anyway, Marmeladov now asked Raskolnikov to accompany him home. He was finally prepared to face his wife and would even take pleasure in her abuse. Raskolnikov, who had been ready to leave for some time, agreed to go along. When they arrived at the apartment, he was struck by the incongruousness of it all—the dirt, poverty, and smell, none of which Katerina Ivanovna seemed to notice as she paced the floor while her children slept or cried. Her concentration was broken when Marmeladov pushed Raskolnikov into the room, but since their apartment was a throughway to another flat, which happened to have a party going on, she ignored his presence. Then, when she saw her husband kneeling at the door, she flew into a rage and afterwards began to accuse Raskolnikov of being a fellow drunkard. Raskolnikov quickly left, yet not without first quietly depositing all his remaining money on the windowsill. He soon regretted his action but then talked himself out of that feeling, preferring to think instead of how Sonya was being used by the rest of them. They seemed like scoundrels to him. Yet he wondered if there was, in fact, such a thing—or if it was all just a matter of subjective judgments with no real existence.
Chapter 3
Nastasya’s compassion for Raskolnikov—Raskolnikov was awoken the next day by Nastasya, the landlady’s cook and servant, who had brought him some leftover tea. She was the only one who still took care of him at all, though she had stopped cleaning up after him since he seemed not to care. Raskolnikov’s room was tiny and cramped, and its dinginess reflected his miserable mood. But now it was after nine in the morning, and Nastasya was chiding him for still being in bed. She was also concerned about Raskolnikov’s health: since he had stopped paying rent, the landlady no longer gave him food. But Nastasya had saved him some soup, and after bringing it to him, she sat down next to him on the couch that served as his bed.
Nastasya is concerned about Raskolnikov’s plans—Being a simple country type, Nastasya lacked Raskolnikov’s complexity. She was straightforward, down-to-earth, and cheerful, and she now informed Raskolnikov that his landlady intended to report him to the police because of his delinquency on the rent. Furthermore, what did he plan on doing about an income? Raskolnikov had no desire to return to teaching children—besides, it paid a pittance. What did he plan on doing, Nastasya wondered: getting rich quick? Raskolnikov gave her a decisive “yes,” but something in his look frightened her, so she decided it was time to head out. But before leaving, Nastasya suddenly remembered that a letter had come for Raskolnikov the day before. Excited, Raskolnikov insisted she get it, but seeing it was from his mother, he asked Nastasya to leave him alone.
Raskolnikov receives his mother’s letter—This was an emotional moment for Raskolnikov. He had not heard from his mother for some time, and his hands were shaking when he first took the letter. Now, with Nastasya gone, he kissed it and then sat staring at the envelope for a while.
Family troubles—His mother began affectionately, addressing Raskolnikov as “Rodya.” She and his sister Dunya, Raskolnikov’s remaining family, had had money troubles, but recently things had improved, and his mother hoped to send him some money soon. She explained that Dunya had been working as a governess and that her employer, Mr. Svidrigaylov, had been verbally abusive to her. But this was just a cover-up for his passion, and in time, he began making inappropriate propositions. When Dunya first accepted the job, she took a financial advance, so she couldn’t leave before she repaid it. Finally, however, she wrote Mr. Svidrigaylov a letter reminding him that he was married with children. But the letter stayed between them, so when Svidrigaylov’s wife, Marfa Petrovna, overheard a conversation between them, she blamed Dunya, fired her, and spread malicious gossip about her throughout the neighborhood, the town, and even the district. With Dunya now thoroughly shamed and jobless, both she and her mother were left destitute.
A lucky turn of events—Fortunately, Mr. Svidrigaylov relented and showed his wife the letter Dunya had written, in which she even pleaded with him to do right by his wife and children. Realizing that she had wronged a good and noble person, Marfa Petrovna reversed her efforts and revisited every house she had gone to previously, even reading the letter to people. Dunya received several job offers, which she declined, but the real turn of fortune came when she received a marriage proposal from a distant relation of Marfa Petrovna’s. Peter Petrovich Luzhin was a Civil Councilor, already fairly high up in the Russian career ranks of the aristocracy, which included the civil, military, and court divisions. On hearing about Dunya, he had asked to meet her and subsequently proposed to her. There was no great love between them, but the situation made sense to both Dunya and Luzhin, and Dunya believed she could make the best of it and benefit others in the process. Those others included her mother and her beloved brother, Raskolnikov, so after a night of pacing that ended in fervent prayer, Dunya made the decision to accept Luzhin’s proposal despite differences in age and style.
The fiancé’s and family’s imminent arrival—Another significant bit of news was that Peter Petrovich was already on his way to St. Petersburg on business. Dunya had mentioned her brother, and her fiancé had answered that there was a possibility that Raskolnikov could work as his secretary on the condition that he did a good job. Dunya had high hopes that her brother might even someday become her husband’s partner, but she kept both this idea and Raskolnikov’s financial issues to herself. Finally, mother and daughter would also be moving to St. Petersburg, and there was much excitement about reuniting with their beloved Rodya. In the meantime, Raskolnikov could meet Peter Petrovich, though his mother hoped that he wouldn’t judge the man too harshly, given that Peter Petrovich could be abrupt.
Raskolnikov’s mixed reaction—The letter ended on an affectionate, hopeful note, though Raskolnikov’s own reaction was mixed. He had been crying while reading, but his anger and resentment showed through by the time he was done. Confused and agitated, he spent some time thinking and then felt the urge for space and fresh air, so he left his apartment and headed for Vasilyevsky Island, oblivious of his surroundings and muttering to himself along the way.
Chapter 4
Raskolnikov rejects the idea of his sister’s marriage to Luzhin—Throughout the letter, Raskolnikov’s mother repeatedly mentioned that she and Dunya had kept things from him to spare his feelings and prevent misunderstanding. But Raskolnikov saw right through the letter. As far as he was concerned, the marriage would not take place. He would not allow Dunya to sacrifice herself for him. In fact, he was so angry he felt like killing her fiancé on the spot. It also bothered Raskolnikov that his mother and sister were not straightforward with him. The language they used seemed designed to deceive him, and their reasoning was clearly defective, stressing Luzhin’s good points but ignoring the bad. Luzhin, for example, had offered to pay for the luggage transport, which at first glance seemed like a good thing. Yet meanwhile Raskolnikov’s impoverished mother and sister had to pay for the more expensive 1000-kilometer trip, which they took in a hay cart. Something was not right. And if this was the mood and condition of the relationship now, what would it be like in the future? Did Dunya realize what she was getting into? What would happen when she woke up? Raskolnikov was fully aware of his sister’s capacity for self-sacrifice, and he did not want her to end up like Sonya Marmeladov, in a situation that was unfair to her and unsatisfying to him. Despite his mother’s and sister’s best hopes and intentions, Raskolnikov did not believe that he or they would be able to abide the situation long-term.
A feeling of helplessness and intensified dark thoughts—All of a sudden, it occurred to Raskolnikov that he was powerless to do anything about the situation. His high moral feelings were all well and good, but how was he helping his mother and sister in a practical sense? He was not. Quite the opposite—he was draining them of what little they had, forcing them to take out loans to help him. And though his future might hold great promise, what good did that do them now? These issues were nothing new, and Raskolnikov knew that he had to take action. In response to that need, the dark thoughts that had been plaguing him for months were now taking on a frightening intensity as they continued to become more than just thoughts.
A drunken girl captures Raskolnikov’s attention; fighting off a lecherous dandy—Raskolnikov’s ramblings were interrupted by the sight of a drunken teenaged girl walking along the boulevard, which was otherwise practically empty. Scantily and carelessly dressed, she had evidently been raped and abused, and now she sat down on the nearby bench, exhausted. As Raskolnikov stood hesitantly before her, he realized that a portly dandy was standing about thirty feet away, eyeing the girl with lecherous intentions. He was obviously waiting for Raskolnikov to leave and was annoyed that he wasn’t. Instead, Raskolnikov angrily insisted that the man clear out, and the two of them started fighting.
The compassionate policeman; a hopeless case—That didn’t last long. Raskolnikov soon felt himself grabbed from behind by a policeman. When he explained the situation with the girl, the policeman took a compassionate interest in her and tried to find out where she lived. In an effort to help get her home, Raskolnikov pulled out 20 kopeks and gave them to the policeman, an act he later regretted. For all their attempts to help, though, the girl was uncooperative. At times, she would react scornfully, indicating that they were interfering. Finally, she got up and walked off with the same scornful attitude. Of course, the dandy followed her. The policeman was still intent on helping and preventing any further problems from the dandy, so he, too, set out to follow the girl. But Raskolnikov had a sudden change of heart and yelled after him to stop. What right did he have to interfere? The policeman concluded that Raskolnikov must be mad and continued following the girl, anyway. To him, she seemed like one of the many sad cases found everywhere these days.
Raskolnikov now regretted giving away his twenty kopeks, and his thoughts went back and forth between indifference and compassion for the girl. Such people would be scorned, punished, and abused by “respectable” society, who would at the same time try to fix them. In the end, the lives of these mistreated people would be over at a young age. But wasn’t the latest thinking that a certain percentage of the population would be lost? Yet what if that sad percentage included his own sister?
Heading over to see Razumikhin—Now Raskolnikov suddenly became aware of his surroundings and wondered where he was headed to begin with. This was not unusual for him, but then he remembered that he was on his way to see Razumikhin. Raskolnikov knew Razumikhin from the university, and though he was himself a loner and had no real friends, he felt relatively at ease with Razumikhin. Unlike Raskolnikov, whose aloof, superior attitude kept the other students at bay, Razumikhin was well liked. He was a complex character and in many ways Raskolnikov’s opposite: talkative, extremely hardworking, and simple on the surface, though this was not the truth. He was temperamental, strong, and able to drink endlessly and abstain at will. Razumikhin was also kind underneath all that, though he could be a joker. Like Raskolnikov, he was poor and currently taking time off from his studies while earning the money to return. But no amount of poverty, discomfort, or failure seemed to bother him; nor had he taken it personally when he noticed Raskolnikov avoiding him two months earlier, and out of consideration, he had pretended not to see him and simply let him be.
Chapter 5
Raskolnikov questions his venture—Suddenly Raskolnikov had another bout of self-questioning. What exactly did he think he could accomplish by going to see Razumikhin? Even if Razumikhin could get him a tutoring job, how would Raskolnikov procure the necessary clothes to look presentable? He needed more than what his friend could offer. His dark thoughts took over once again, and he decided he would have to do the deed first and then go see Razumikhin. That thought sent him into another state of upset and confusion. Did he truly intend to do it? In a nervous, feverish fit, Raskolnikov blindly crossed the bridge to the green islands on the other side of the river.
Raskolnikov wanders into the country and falls asleep after having some vodka—The fresh, green surroundings were a welcome respite from the stench, filth, and crowdedness of the city, and for a short while, Raskolnikov’s attention rested on the country houses, the ladies and children on balconies, the passing carriages, and most of all, the flowers. But his thoughts soon turned to food, and he ducked into a tavern, where he ordered some vodka and a bite to eat. Being unused to drink, the vodka affected him quickly, and once outside again, he laid himself down to sleep behind a bush.
A vivid dream—But Raskolnikov did not rest well. His sleep was troubled by a vivid, horrifying dream typical of sick people. In the dream, Raskolnikov was a young boy again, and he and his father were walking together in the countryside. The initial images from the dream—his impressions of the treeless surroundings under a gray sky, his fond memories of the church and its icons, his grandmother’s and little brother’s graves—showed a definite sensitivity of character.
The old nag—But the main theme of the dream had to do with the tavern they passed, which always left him uneasy. Today there was a party going on, with a lot of raucous laughter and drunkenness. Outside the tavern was a cart, but instead of being hooked up to a big, strong draft horse, it was fastened to a single old, weak nag. Moreover, the owner, a rough, thick-necked, red-faced type named Mikolka, was inviting all his drunken friends to get into the cart. He didn’t care whether the old horse could handle it—he would beat her until she moved. Not surprisingly, the horse had great difficulty moving the cart, but Mikolka still kept inviting more people to get on. As promised, he and a few other men got out the whips and started beating the horse mercilessly. Doing this, Mikolka got into an increasing frenzy, eventually picking up a heavy wooden stick and then an iron crowbar. He was determined to kill the horse at this point, and he seemed to be enjoying himself in a vengeful way. He kept shouting that the horse was his property and that he could do what he wanted with her. By this time, the people in the cart were singing, while others stood on the sidelines. Some cheered him on; others chided him for being unchristian. Meanwhile, the boy Raskolnikov had run over to the horse and was weeping over her. The old nag had made repeated valiant attempts to get up and at times even kicked in rebellion, which drew laughter from the meaner onlookers. Finally, after multiple whippings and beatings from Mikolka and others, she collapsed and died. Screaming and furious, his face covered with blood after kissing the dead mare, the little boy Raskolnikov rushed at Mikolka, but his father grabbed him before anything could happen. The dream ended as the boy pleaded with his father to know why the people had beaten the poor nag to death, but the father only answered that they were drunk, it was none of their business, and they were going home.
A change of heart—Raskolnikov woke up in a sweat, confused and upset about his dream. Why had he even dreamt it? Was he getting a fever? Then he remembered his awful intention to kill the old lady. How could he possibly do that? The horror of his dream now led him to resolve not to do it, and in the wake of that resolution, he suddenly felt free and at peace for the first time in a long time. As he watched the sunset from the bridge, he felt that the curse had been lifted.
A twist of fate and another change of mind—That would not last long. For some unknown reason, Raskolnikov decided to walk through the Haymarket on his way home even though the way was slightly longer. While there, he happened to pass Lizaveta, Alena Ivanovna’s sister. She was talking to some people who were encouraging her to come by the next evening after six, which Raskolnikov interpreted as seven in the evening. In that brief moment, he learned that Alena Ivanovna would be alone in her apartment at that time, and that single bit of knowledge changed his mind and his destiny once again.
Chapter 6
The origin of the idea—Lizaveta’s purpose for being out was part of her usual routine of selling things on commission, but Raskolnikov had developed a superstitious mindset and saw all events of that period in a mysterious light. He had heard of Alena Ivanovna the previous winter, but he had had no need to pawn anything at the time. It was only six weeks ago that he decided to pawn the gold ring his sister had given him as a farewell gift. His dislike for Alena Ivanovna had been instinctive and immediate, but he had taken the two rubles she offered and stopped in a tavern for tea on the way home.
It was there in the dingy tavern that the morbid idea of killing Alena Ivanovna first began to germinate as a bizarre thought in Raskolnikov’s mind. Even stranger was the coincidence of a nearby conversation on exactly that topic. Another student happened to be talking to an officer about Alena Ivanovna and Lizaveta, and Raskolnikov learned from this that the old woman was wealthy but also mean. She was usurious and miserly in her dealings with clients, and she beat Lizaveta, who did all the labor around the apartment. Lizaveta, who was only her half-sister, was timid, tall, and ungainly. But she was also pleasant, kind, and honest, and consequently liked by many. She knew that she stood to receive no money from the old lady’s will, which bequeathed it all to a monastery to pray for her own soul. Moreover, Lizaveta was pregnant. Given all this, the student proclaimed that he saw it as no crime to kill the old woman, take her considerable wealth, and distribute it to the many promising poor individuals who could put it to better use. In his view, to take the life of one worthless, abusive person was mathematically justified if it helped the lives of many deserving persons.
The officer had been listening intently to all this, but now he asked the student whether he would actually kill the old woman. The student responded at once that he would not—it was the principle of justice that was important. But the officer stopped him. As long as he was unwilling to do it, any talk of justice was irrelevant. And with that, he changed the subject and suggested they play another game of billiards.
The conversation left Raskolnikov troubled, though he told himself he knew better than to take it seriously. Plenty of young people spewed ideas like this—he had heard such things before. But what he found strange was the coincidence: he had just met Alena Ivanovna, and the same notion had started to form in his own mind.
A heavy sleep and strange dreams—Back home, Raskolnikov was feeling alternating fever and chills again, and he fell into a heavy, dreamless sleep. The next day, Nastasya made some futile attempts to wake and feed him, but she finally left in disgust. After barely eating anything, Raskolnikov laid his face back down on his “pillow” of laundry and had a series of waking dreams. The narrator calls them “strange,” but interestingly, the only one described—the one that occurred most often—was not dark, but bright and beautiful, describing an Egyptian oasis with clear blue water, gleaming sand, and a caravan peacefully pausing on its journey.
A sudden awakening; final preparations—At around six, Raskolnikov suddenly leapt out of bed on hearing the clock strike. Inwardly, he was in an uproar, but as he listened, everything around him seemed to be quiet. He still had some preparations to make, though not many. There was the loop he had to sew under the inside of his coat armpit so that no one would notice the axe he was carrying. Then there was the fake “pledge” made of a bit of wood and a metal plate for weight, all of it wrapped in paper with a complex knot so that Alena Ivanovna’s attention would be focused on that while Raskolnikov made his deadly move. Finally, there was the axe itself, which he had to get from the kitchen. Nastasya was typically out at this time, so Raskolnikov figured there would be no problem sneaking into the kitchen to get it.
Last-minute issues; more strange serendipity—If everything had been perfectly planned, Raskolnikov would have acknowledged the absurdity and repulsiveness of it all and renounced the whole idea. As it was, there were still unresolved details, and somehow this spurred him on. Now, too, at the last minute, some things he had counted on were going wrong. For one thing, Nastasya was not out after all. Today of all days she was still at home, hanging laundry in the kitchen. What would he do? He pretended to not see her as he headed down the stairs, but now he had a dilemma. How would he get an axe? He had already decided that he was too weak and frail to manage the deed with his gardening knife. As Raskolnikov stood by the downstairs door mulling this over, he noticed a gleaming object in the porter’s room. It was an axe! After making sure the porter was out, Raskolnikov stuffed the axe under his coat and headed out. To him, this seemed like an act of providence, though not of God but of the devil.
In his usual fashion, Raskolnikov ignored the passersby as he walked through the streets. All sorts of thoughts crossed his mind, not least that he had forgotten to get a new hat. On top of that, it was already 7:10, so he needed to move quickly. But contrary to what he had expected, he was not afraid. Instead, he found himself contemplating how pleasant the city would be if the parks could be extended—but he finally dismissed these thoughts as the meanderings of a desperate mind, like a man on his way to his own execution.
Another stroke of luck occurred just as he got to Alena Ivanovna’s building, when a hay cart pulled up in front of him so that no one noticed him enter. Nor did any of the workmen painting the empty apartment look up as he passed by on the stairway. Finally, Raskolnikov arrived at Alena Ivanovna’s door. He looked around to make sure no one else was nearby, and after some last-minute doubts, with his heart pounding, Raskolnikov rang the bell. Nothing. He rang it again. Still nothing. Yet he was sure Alena Ivanovna was home, and as he listened quietly at the door, he could finally hear the quiet movement of clothing and a hand on the knob. He deliberately made some noise, then rang again; and during those brief moments before the door, his mind lost its clarity and his body seemed gone. Then Raskolnikov heard the door open.
Chapter 7
The confrontation—Raskolnikov’s nervousness immediately got the better of him. Alena Ivanovna had only opened the door slightly, so Raskolnikov pulled it open and the old woman partway with it. With her body now blocking the entrance, Raskolnikov pushed his way through. Momentarily dumbstruck, Alena Ivanovna soon recovered and asked who he was and what he wanted. He reminded her that he had promised to bring her a silver cigarette case as a pledge, so here he was. Still suspicious, she wanted to know why he was pale and shaking—was he sick? He explained that he had had nothing to eat and was sick on top of it.
The murder—Alena Ivanovna did not think that the item Raskolnikov handed her felt like silver, but she still took it over to the light by the closed window to examine it. Seeing his chance, Raskolnikov started to take out the axe, though by now his body had gone numb and his strength failed him. Suddenly, Alena Ivanovna turned around, demanding to know why the package was wrapped so tightly. Raskolnikov had no choice. He lifted up the axe and brought it down on her bare head, causing her to fall to the ground. He was careful to use the blunt side of the axe, but by the time he had given Alena Ivanovna several blows, there was a pool of blood beside her on the floor.
The theft—Raskolnikov was careful to avoid touching the blood as he laid the axe on the floor and felt in the old woman’s pockets. Still trembling, but calmer, he found her keys and went into the bedroom to try them in the chest of drawers. It occurred to him that the old lady might not be dead after all, so he went back. As he stood over her with the axe, he realized that she was indeed dead, her skull having been crushed. At the same time, he noticed a small purse hanging on a string around her neck. He had to use the axe to chop it off, and in the process, he got blood on his hands. Raskolnikov noticed that the purse was packed full, but he simply took it without checking its contents.
Returning to the bedroom, this time with the axe, Raskolnikov started trying the keys again. Then he remembered that the large key must belong to a separate trunk, which he found underneath Alena Ivanovna’s bed. At first glance, the trunk contained only a sheet, some clothing, and some rags. But as Raskolnikov rummaged through the rags, stopping to wipe his bloody hands on the red lining of a fur coat, he saw a number of gold items fall out from among them, some wrapped, some in cases. He had barely started stuffing them into his pockets, when he heard a sound in the other room.
Lizaveta returns; a second murder—When Lizaveta first entered, all Raskolnikov heard was her footstep followed by a soft groan. He held still for a few moments, then ran into the other room with the axe. Lizaveta was in such a state of shock and so used to abuse that she barely even tried to defend herself as the axe came down on her head, killing her with one blow.
Raskolnikov abandons the theft and prepares to leave—Raskolnikov was now thoroughly horrified. He had not planned this second murder, and he couldn’t bring himself to return to the bedroom to complete the theft. Instead, he went into the kitchen to wash the blood off his hands and the axe. He checked himself for obvious stains, but he knew that the light was inadequate, and he felt a growing concern for his sanity and judgment. Had he known what still lay before him, he would have given up immediately and turned himself in.
Footsteps on the stairs—Suddenly Raskolnikov realized with horror that the door had been ajar the whole time. Surely, he should have thought of this when he saw Lizaveta, but he hadn’t. His first instinct now was to bolt it, but he immediately changed his mind: he knew he should leave. After opening the door again, he went out onto the landing and listened long and hard for any sounds. In the distance, he could hear two people arguing, so he waited until they left. Then another person came out and descended the staircase. Finally, all seemed clear, but just as he was about to head down, he heard footsteps again, and he knew instantly that they were headed for this apartment. These were heavy steps accompanied by heavy breathing. Raskolnikov was frozen for a while, but then the footstep got close, so he snuck back into the apartment and bolted the door.
The two visitors—The man finally reached the door and rang the bell as Raskolnikov stood on the other side listening. When there was no answer, the man rang again and then yanked at the handle so that the whole door shook. He repeated this numerous times while he shouted to get Alena and Lizaveta’s attention. He was surprised to find no one there, since Alena Ivanovna never went anywhere, and he concluded that they must be asleep. In the meantime, another younger man had arrived, and it is from him that we learn that the first man’s name was Koch. Koch didn’t recognize the younger visitor, and the latter had to remind him that they had played several rounds of billiards two days earlier. He, too, was surprised to see that no one was home.
A sudden realization—Then the young man, who was studying to be an examining magistrate, noticed that the door was rattling in a way that indicated that it was bolted but not locked. Someone had to be there in that case, since a door could only be bolted from the inside. Deducing that something was wrong, he rushed downstairs to inquire of the porter. Meanwhile, Koch remained upstairs and kept rattling the door. He also tried looking through the keyhole, but he could see nothing, since the key was inside the lock. Finally, he became exasperated and hurried downstairs.
A chance to escape—After a while, all was quiet again, so Raskolnikov went back out onto the landing. With the apartment door now shut behind him, he started going downstairs. Some shouting people emerged from one apartment, but they left. Then the visitors returned with some others and started coming up the stairs. Desperate, Raskolnikov figured he had no choice but to pass them on the stairs, but then at the last moment he realized he could duck into the empty second-floor apartment where the painters had been working. Having narrowly missed the visitors, he managed to get out the door and across the courtyard without anyone noticing him. Faint and sweating profusely, he did his best to remain inconspicuous by maintaining a steady pace, blending with the crowd, and even taking a longer route home despite his weakness. Only once did someone notice him by the canal and concluded that he had had too much to drink.
Home again—At last, Raskolnikov arrived home, and after checking the porter’s door, he returned the axe to its previous place, trying his best to make it look like nothing had been moved. Maybe it would have been better to get rid of the axe altogether, but Raskolnikov wasn’t thinking too clearly. He managed to make it up the stairs unobserved and practically fell onto his bed, still in a state of panic, shock, and confusion.
Part II
Chapter 1
A fitful night—Raskolnikov was finally roused from his stupor by the sound of wailing drunks outside. That meant that the bars had let out, which in turn meant that it was past two in the morning, and he noticed that it was already light outside. His whole body shook with chills. As he looked around at his dismal room and self, he realized that he had forgotten to secure the door. He hadn’t even taken off his clothes. He went over to the window to examine them for traces of blood, but he didn’t trust his reasoning or observational powers, so he kept repeating the process.
Hiding the evidence—So far, only Raskolnikov’s pants fringes showed any evidence of blood, so he cut them off. He also had to hide the things he stole, but where? He had hoped to find only money, but now he had these bulkier items to deal with. He shoved them behind some loose wallpaper but realized immediately that the bulge was too noticeable. Still, he felt happy about it, but that made him question his sanity. Exhausted, he lay down on his bed and slept for a few minutes, then leapt up because he remembered he needed to get rid of the loop in his coat. After shredding it and making some more confused efforts to hide the remaining evidence, he again lay down on his couch and couldn’t bring himself to get up.
The summons—Raskolnikov was awoken late the next morning by Nastasya, who was banging at the door. She had brought the porter, who had a summons ordering him to go to the police office. Nastasya was surprised to find the door locked, but when she saw Raskolnikov’s sickly face, she felt compassion for him. She then noticed the rags he still clutched in his hands. He had fallen asleep holding them, and this sent her into fits of laughter. Thankfully, she hadn’t noticed any blood.
More fear and confusion—Raskolnikov had made up his mind to go to the police at once, despite Nastasya’s offer for tea and her advice to take things slowly, since he was clearly ill. Now with Nastasya and the porter gone, Raskolnikov was left to his own wild imaginings. What could the police possibly want? He had never had any dealings with them. As he was getting ready to go, he realized that one of his socks was bloody, but he had no others. He had no choice—he had to wear it. His thoughts went back and forth between resigning himself to being caught and trying to avoid any traps.
On the way to the police—The conditions outside did not help Raskolnikov’s fear, fever, and weakness. The city was still overwhelmingly hot and dirty, with the same old stench from the drunks, the pubs, and the stores. When he glimpsed the building where the murder had taken place, he quickly moved on.
The police office—The police office was housed on the fourth floor of a stuffy, smelly building. All sorts of people were coming and going on the stairs as Raskolnikov went up, and in this environment, no one noticed him. Even the clerks in the front office, who looked only slightly better than he did, barely looked up. After looking over the summons, one clerk directed Raskolnikov to the chief clerk’s office, an inner room crowded with waiting people. The chief clerk was similarly unimpressed by either Raskolnikov’s appearance or his summons, and Raskolnikov was told to wait, much to his relief. With such routine reactions, the summons couldn’t have anything to do with the murder.
The temperamental lieutenant and the nature of the summons—Raskolnikov’s nervous thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of the police captain’s assistant, a swaggering, temperamental lieutenant. He noticed Raskolnikov with some annoyance and became even more annoyed when Raskolnikov returned his look. They started yelling at each other as Raskolnikov explained why he was there, and in the process, he learned from the chief clerk that the summons had come from his landlady, who wanted to collect on a promissory note for 115 rubles. Raskolnikov was having difficulty understanding the paper the chief clerk gave him, but he was relieved to learn that it indeed had nothing to do with the murder, and by now he was ignoring Ilya Petrovich, the temperamental lieutenant.
Some comic relief—Evidently, Ilya Petrovich’s outbursts were not unusual. The chief clerk periodically tried to interrupt, but he knew better and had started smiling while Raskolnikov and the officer were shouting at each other. Now the lieutenant started browbeating an overdressed, overperfumed lady who was among those waiting. Louisa Ivanovna had risen to curtsy as soon as the officer entered, and she had not stopped smiling at him since then. Now she waited semi-patiently as he continued with his abuse. When she finally had a chance to defend herself, her (unintentionally) comical speech revealed a strong German accent and the implication that she was the proprietor of a “respectable house” that had recently witnessed a “scandal.” The absurdity of the situation and Raskolnikov’s relief at learning the real nature of his own summons made him want to laugh out loud.
The compassionate chief of police—Having been let go with an admonishment from Ilya Petrovich, Louisa Ivanovna made her way out the door, where she crossed paths with Nikodim Fomich, the pleasant chief of police. He had heard Ilya Petrovich’s shouting on the stairway, and now he teased his assistant about his temper. Ilya Petrovich tried to excuse himself by pointing out Raskolnikov’s disgraceful appearance, behavior, and unwillingness to pay his debts. But Nikodim Fomich, who was more compassionate, pointed out that poverty was not a crime, and he explained to Raskolnikov that his lieutenant was a good fellow in spite of his temper.
Raskolnikov tells his story—Heartened by this show of compassion, Raskolnikov wanted to explain himself and started to tell his story. Both the chief clerk and Ilya Petrovich tried to tell him that the details of his life were irrelevant to the summons, but Raskolnikov insisted on continuing. Three years ago, when he first arrived from the country, he was engaged to the landlady’s daughter. When the daughter died of typhus, the landlady took an IOU from Raskolnikov, promising to never use it against him and to give him whatever credit he needed. But when he lost his tutoring students and couldn’t pay his rent, she stopped feeding him. That was three months ago.
A change in feeling—The chief clerk now urged Raskolnikov to write what he dictated to him. In the meantime, Raskolnikov had noticed a change in mood. The chief clerk seemed more indifferent; Ilya Petrovich had been pretending to ignore Raskolnikov, though he occasionally inserted impatient comments; and Nikodim Fomich seemed ill at ease. Raskolnikov himself felt a deep emptiness, a sense of isolation from the whole world, knowing that he could never again communicate with anyone as he just had.
Raskolnikov hears the two officers discussing the murder case—The chief clerk again urged Raskolnikov to write, and as he started dictating to him, he noticed that Raskolnikov was shaking. Raskolnikov managed to finish signing the document and then held his head in pain. He was on the verge of telling all to Nikodim Fomich and had even stood up to do so, when he heard the latter talking to Ilya Petrovich about the murder. They were debating how it could have happened, and Raskolnikov learned in the process that the two visitors, Koch and the young man, were being held for questioning. It seemed to him that Nikodim Fomich had a good understanding of the situation.
Raskolnikov faints; the police become suspicious—Having decided to leave, Raskolnikov headed to the door but fainted before he got there. The next thing he knew, he was seated, with two people on either side. Nikodim Fomich was asking him about his illness—how long, when, and where. Raskolnikov answered abruptly: since the day before, on the street, at about eight o’clock. Ilya Petrovich had been looking at Raskolnikov, and Raskolnikov responded with his own chafing look. When Raskolnikov mentioned the time, the room became silent as they all glanced at each other. Then Ilya Petrovich told Raskolnikov that he could go, but as soon as Raskolnikov left, he could hear them all speaking loudly to each other, with Nikodim Fomich being the loudest. As Raskolnikov headed home, he felt his old fears return, and he knew the police were suspicious.
Chapter 2
Burying the evidence—Raskolnikov immediately started imagining the worst. He was sure they would search him now—maybe they had already been to his room. But no one had been there, and nothing had happened. He was appalled, though, at the way he had shoved the stolen items under the protruding bit of wallpaper, and having already decided to get rid of them all, he gathered them together and stuffed them in his pockets.
The question now was where to dispense with them. Leaving his apartment door wide open, Raskolnikov decided to first try the Ekaterinsky Canal, but there were too many people there and no private place to unload the items. He next decided to try the Neva River, but on his way there, he changed his mind again—maybe burying them in the woods would be better than throwing them in the water. He could go back to the country on the islands and find a suitable place, far from anything.
Weak and half-delirious, Raskolnikov had been unsure of his judgment for some time, and it was in this state that he happened upon a walled courtyard, and next to that, a desolate fenced area covered with trash and coal dust. Next to the fence was a trench, which seemed ideal until Raskolnikov noticed a large, heavy stone between the fence and the courtyard wall. It was perfect. He lifted the stone, threw everything, including the purse, into the hole beneath it, and then placed it back. There was hardly any difference in the level of the stone, and Raskolnikov did his best to make it appear untouched.
Raskolnikov rejects Razumikhin’s offer—Raskolnikov had had to work quickly to avoid being caught, but now he felt great joy and relief. He was convinced that he had eliminated all evidence and that the crime could not be traced to him. He laughed to himself as he walked along, but his emotions soon changed. The sight of the boulevard where he had seen the drunken girl inspired thoughts of futility, self-loathing, and hatred of humanity; and so he continued until he suddenly found himself standing before Razumikhin’s residence. Feeling that his presence there was fate, Raskolnikov climbed the five flights to Razumikhin’s room.
Razumikhin himself had neither washed, shaven, nor dressed, and he was writing when Raskolnikov entered. He quickly realized that Raskolnikov was ill, and he was sorry to see him in such terrible condition—he who had been the most intelligent of all the students. Raskolnikov quickly regretted coming and was moving to leave, but Razumikhin wouldn’t let him go that easily. He wondered why Raskolnikov had come at all in that case and whether he was losing his mind. As far as helping him was concerned, Razumikhin himself no longer had any students, but he was doing some silly translation work that paid well, and he could use Raskolnikov’s help. He offered him half the work and a three-ruble advance, with more to come once the translation was done. At first, Raskolnikov took the offer and left as unceremoniously as he had come; but then he changed his mind, went back, returned the papers and money, and left again.
A final severing of human ties—Raskolnikov was suddenly roused from his thoughts by the whip of a carriage driver. He had been walking in the middle of the street, and the whip had landed on his back when he got in the horse’s way. This happened on the Nikolaevsky Bridge, which crossed the Neva River and was familiar to him from his student days. Most of the onlookers reviled or laughed at him, but one traditionally dressed woman pressed 20 kopeks into his hand, urging him to take it “in the name of the Christ.” She and the little girl she was leading kept walking, leaving Raskolnikov to stare out at the Neva and the palace, as he had done in his students days. He then took the money and threw it into the river, and in that moment, he severed all ties with humanity.
A horrible hallucination—After six hours of walking, Raskolnikov finally arrived home and lay down on his bed but could not sleep. Suddenly, he heard a horrible fight break out on the stairs. It seemed that Ilya Petrovich had come to the building and was mercilessly beating the landlady, who was screaming and wailing. Raskolnikov could hear people gathering on the stairs, and there was a lot of commotion after it was all done ten or fifteen minutes later. Raskolnikov had not dared to look, and as he lay there in his dark room, trying to imagine how and why this could have happened, Nastasya entered with a candle and soup. Raskolnikov asked her about the violent episode that had just taken place, but Nastasya only stared at him and attributed his statements to “the blood.” Raskolnikov was at first taken aback by the word “blood,” but Nastasya meant that he was ill and that he was having hallucinations. No such episode had taken place. Raskolnikov then requested something to drink, so Nastasya fetched him some water. But he had hardly taken a sip when he fainted.
Chapter 3
Delirium—Raskolnikov was sick for a while, though he had lost all track of time and couldn’t tell how long he had lain there. In his delirium, he was unsure as to what was real and what was not. At different times, he thought there were people in his room. He especially remembered seeing Nastasya, and one man seemed strongly familiar, but he couldn’t place him. This bothered him terribly. The murder also had slipped his mind, though he had a vague, tormenting sense that he had forgotten something important.
Visitors—Eventually, the delirium lifted, and as Raskolnikov looked around, he realized that Nastasya and an unknown male visitor were in his room. His landlady, too, was peering in at the door, but she shut it and left when she realized Raskolnikov had awoken. Before Raskolnikov had a chance to find out who the male visitor was, Razumikhin entered and took over the conversation. Presenting himself by his real name, Vrazumikhin, Razumikhin discovered that the man had been sent from the accounting department of a business owned by one Shelopaev, a merchant. They were handling the 35 rubles sent to Raskolnikov by his mother, and the clerk-foreman needed Raskolnikov’s signature. He was the second person sent from that office in the last two days, but Raskolnikov had not yet come to at the time.
Razumikhin dominates the conversation—This information all came out gradually. First, Razumikhin sat down and welcomed Raskolnikov back to the world. He assured him that his illness was nothing to worry about—even the doctor, Zosimov, had said so. Razumikhin had brought him there twice, and the verdict was that Raskolnikov had had some nervous disorder and needed to eat better, but nothing more, and Zosimov’s treatment had helped greatly.
Raskolnikov resists signing—But back to the money. The man needed Raskolnikov’s signature in order to deliver the money, and Razumikhin assured him that Raskolnikov had recovered enough to cooperate. But Raskolnikov didn’t want to sign—he didn’t want the money. Razumikhin explained this as one of Raskolnikov’s mind-wandering moments, which were common enough even under normal circumstances. No matter—he would guide his friend’s hand, but Raskolnikov would have none of that and signed the receipt book himself.
Changes for the better—With the money now delivered, Razumikhin turned to more immediate concerns: food. Was Raskolnikov hungry? There his friend didn’t hesitate, and Razumikhin quickly ordered up some food from Nastasya, including cold beer, which the landlady would procure. Raskolnikov wasn’t yet sure if he was witnessing reality, so he chose to sit back and watch. One thing was clear: Razumikhin had both Nastasya and the landlady under his spell. Nastasya had a wry sense of humor about his biddings, but Raskolnikov noticed a degree of cleanliness, order, and abundance that had been missing for a while—a clean tablecloth, condiments, a setting for two (Razumikhin ate with him, with gusto), a clean comforter and down pillow. There was even beef for Razumikhin (Raskolnikov was still on a limited diet), who had been visiting for several days, with the landlady providing food of her own accord.
Razumikhin’s resourcefulness—Razumikhin had been spoon-feeding Raskolnikov, though Raskolnikov could have fed himself. But he chose to not yet show how much he had recovered, and Razumikhin now began to explain all the changes that had recently taken place. When Raskolnikov had visited him several days ago and then left abruptly without a word, his rude behavior had infuriated Razumikhin so much that he decided to seek his friend out. After numerous questionings, he finally went to the Register of Addresses, where they found Raskolnikov’s address in no time, a surprising and disturbing piece of information to Raskolnikov. On arriving there, Razumikhin soon learned all about Raskolnikov’s recent history and met many of the players—the main characters at the police office, the porter, Nastasya, and, of course, the landlady, whom Razumikhin found surprisingly pleasant and enchanting. In his opinion, Raskolnikov had handled her completely incorrectly and could not have been thinking clearly when he signed the promissory note.
Razumikhin takes care of the overdue bill—Nastasya, who had been in the room the whole time, was clearly amused by all this, and Razumikhin admitted to being infatuated with the landlady, though he quickly added that their relationship was platonic. Razumikhin went on to explain that she had grown frightened when Raskolnikov’s affairs took a turn for the worse, but she had believed Raskolnikov’s assurances that his mother would cover the bill. Things became complicated when the landlady herself used the bill to cover one of her own expenses and the businessman, Chebarov, moved to collect. But Razumikhin took care of that, paid the man, and now presented the bill to Raskolnikov, stating that it could do no more harm.
Raskolnikov finds out that Zametov visited during his illness—In a surprising gesture, Raskolnikov faced the wall and said nothing. Razumikhin noted that his attempts at pleasing his friend had failed again. Without looking at him, Raskolnikov asked whether Razumikhin had been to his room during his illness. Razumikhin answered yes. His presence had aroused an intense reaction, even more so when Zametov, the chief clerk, accompanied him. This got Raskolnikov’s attention, and he turned around. Why had Zametov been there, and what had he said to them? Razumikhin could not understand his upset. Zametov was interested in Raskolnikov. He and Razumikhin were good friends now, and Razumikhin had even moved to the same area. As far as what Raskolnikov had said, it seemed to Razumikhin to be the normal ravings of a delirious person.
Razumikhin answers Raskolnikov’s questions about his rantings—But Raskolnikov insisted on knowing, so Razumikhin told him about the different things he had mentioned during his illness. In fact, Raskolnikov had revealed a lot of important clues. He had even implored Razumikhin and Zametov to find his sock. Zametov, with his own delicate hands, had searched for it and handed it to Raskolnikov, but he and Razumikhin could not understand why Raskolnikov clung to it and wouldn’t give it up. However, as far as Razumikhin was concerned, it was all nothing more than delirium, and Raskolnikov shouldn’t worry about having revealed any great secrets. Besides, there were more important things to attend to, and with that, Razumikhin took ten of Raskolnikov’s 35 rubles and promised to return in a couple of hours with a full accounting of his expenditures. Leaving some last-minute instructions for “Nastenka” (he used pet names for both her and the landlady), Razumikhin headed downstairs to speak to “Pashenka,” the landlady. Curious, Nastasya followed shortly afterwards.
Plans and confusion—Raskolnikov was now finally alone in his room again. He had been waiting impatiently for this moment, and he leapt up but then promptly forgot why. This absentmindedness of his worried him, but even worse was the notion that everyone already knew everything. In this semi-confused state, he checked different things in an effort to remember why he had suddenly leapt up. Whatever evidence was still left seemed to have gone undetected—the fringe and pocket in the stove, the dirt-covered bloody sock on his bed. His confusion continued as he tried to remember what he needed to do. Was he supposed to go to the police station? No, that was already done. Why had Zametov visited him? How could he be sure that what he was experiencing now was real? Then it came to him—he needed to flee at once. There was just one problem: his clothing and boots were missing. At least, his coat, the money, and the promissory note were still there. But where could he go? He would have to flee to America, where even the Register of Addresses would be unable to find him. As Raskolnikov was thinking through his plans, he noticed that there was still some beer left and immediately drank the remaining glassful. Before long, he lay down, and though his thoughts were even more confused, the comfort of his new quilt and pillow soon lulled him to sleep.
Raskolnikov awakens after a long nap—Raskolnikov awoke at six in the evening. Razumikhin had been checking on him on and off for the last three hours, and now he stood in the doorway. Raskolnikov had needed the regenerating sleep, but he was still confused and couldn’t remember recent events. He seemed in a hurry, and it bothered him that he had overslept. But Razumikhin slowed him down—what was the rush? He noticed that his friend wasn’t quite right yet, but he figured that things would rectify themselves in time.
A new set of clothes—In the meantime, Razumikhin had something to show Raskolnikov. For a while now, he had felt that Raskolnikov needed new clothing, so he had gone out and bought him a new cap, pants, a vest, some shirts, and some boots—all secondhand but in good condition. Razumikhin was proud of his shopping expertise, and he went on and on about it. Besides that, he had made arrangements with the landlady to give Raskolnikov unlimited credit on his rent.
A strange indifference; Zosimov arrives—But Raskolnikov had no interest in any of it. Still, Razumikhin was not so easily put off. He was concerned about his friend’s unhealthy hygienic habits, so with Nastasya’s help, he changed Raskolnikov’s clothes himself. Afterwards, Raskolnikov lay on his bed and would not look at them or say anything. Finally, he asked how Razumikhin had managed to pay for all this, and Razumikhin had to remind Raskolnikov about the money he had received from his mother. The chapter ends as Raskolnikov notices a familiar person entering the room. It is the doctor, Zosimov.
Chapter 4
Zosimov examines Raskolnikov—In appearance and manner, Zosimov was the opposite of Raskolnikov. A large, heavy, fair man, he was stylish, immaculate, and pretentious, though he tried to hide the last trait. But he was also a competent doctor, and he immediately set about examining Raskolnikov. He concluded that things were going well and that Raskolnikov no longer needed medicine and could eat most things. Still, he should be allowed to rest and not be pushed too hard to take walks, etc., as Razumikhin had hoped, since he was having a housewarming party that day.
Razumikhin’s housewarming guest list—That bit of information switched the subject to other things. Razumikhin wanted to know if Zosimov was coming to the party, which prompted the doctor to ask who else would be there. Razumikhin explained that the guests were a random group of individuals from around there, most of whom he had met recently, as he had just moved to the area. Among them was Porfiry Petrovich, the examining magistrate, and Zametov, the chief clerk. Zosimov frowned at the mention of both these names. He had been scolded once by Porfiry, and he couldn’t imagine why Razumikhin or Raskolnikov would know Zametov. Besides, Zametov was greedy. Razumikhin, who never ceased being witty and blunt, got a little aggravated at Zosimov’s judgmentalism. Zametov was a good person in his view, and whatever flaws he had could be ascribed to his youth.
Talk of the murder and investigation—Zosimov’s comments about Zametov led to the topic of the murder. One of the house painters was being held on suspicion, and Razumikhin and Zametov were determined to clear him. Zosimov didn’t know what Razumikhin was talking about, so Razumikhin filled him in on the recent double murder. At this point, Nastasya broke in, addressing Raskolnikov. Did he know that Lizaveta had also been killed? Raskolnikov muttered feigned surprise, then turned to the wall and focused all his attention on the wallpaper. Razumikhin continued that he disagreed with the way the investigation was being run. The investigators might have the right facts, but their interpretation was wrong. That was obvious from how they first suspected Koch and Pestryakov, the student who had met Koch in front of Alena Ivanovna’s door. According to Zosimov, Koch capitalized on unredeemed pledges and IOUs, and neither Zosimov nor Razumikhin thought too highly of him. Somehow they deduced that because the door was open after Koch and Pestryakov left, those two must have committed the crime. Not only was the investigators’ logic inane—even worse, they stubbornly stuck to it. Razumikhin’s uproar over the stupidity of the investigators was heightened by his instinctive certainty that he could help to unravel the truth.
The painter and the earrings—At this point, Zosimov reminded Razumikhin to tell about the painter. That story was connected to a box of gold earrings turned in three days after the murder by one Dushkin, the owner of a pub across from Alena Ivanovna’s building. Dushkin had received them from the painter, Nikolay (aka “Mikolay”), one of the men who had been working in the second-floor apartment of the same building. Nikolay had found the earrings on the street and wanted to use them as a pledge in exchange for a loan of two rubles. Dushkin was suspicious about where the earrings had come from, but he had known Nikolay since boyhood, so he gave him one ruble, and after the painter traded it in for some vodka and change, he left. The following day, Dushkin heard about the double murder, which heightened his suspicions about the earrings, since he knew that Alena Ivanovna had been a pawnbroker and therefore kept such items. He figured he would quietly ask some questions without revealing anything. In the process, he discovered from Mitrey (Dmitri), the other painter, who also lived with Nikolay, that Nikolay had been out all night, came home for ten minutes at dawn, left again, and skipped out on work. Dushkin continued that Nikolay finally showed up at the pub at 8 a.m. on the present day (three days after the murder and two days after he had brought the earrings to Dushkin). At the time, Nikolay was not in a sociable mood, but he answered Dushkin’s questions. Dushkin found out that he had slept on the beach by the barges the night before and that he hadn’t seen Mitrey since he left their home. Dushkin then told Nikolay about the murder, which left the painter in shock. He didn’t even finish his drink but bolted before Dushkin could stop him. Dushkin concluded that Nikolay must be guilty.
The police question Nikolay—The story didn’t end there. Evidently, Dushkin went to the police, because they went looking for Nikolay and in the meantime searched the barges, Mitrey, and even Dushkin’s place. Fate caught up with Nikolay in a barn by an inn. He had stopped in for a drink before going off to hang himself, but he was caught in time by a woman who happened to peek through a crack in the wall of the barn and then screamed for help. Nikolay turned himself in to the appropriate police station, promising to tell all. From their thorough questioning, the police learned that both Nikolay and Mitrey had been too busy painting to notice any specific suspect on the stairs on the day of the murder, although plenty of people had come and gone; nor had they heard anything strange; nor had Nikolay any clue of a murder until Dushkin told him about it … and so on and so forth. The questions went on and on, and Razumikhin was particularly perturbed that the police suspected Nikolay merely because he had run. However, they did discover exactly where Nikolay had found the earrings—not in the street but in the apartment where he and Mitrey had been working.
How Nikolay found the earrings—According to Nikolay, it was already 8 p.m., after a long day’s work, when Mitrey playfully smeared Nikolay’s face with paint and then ran. Nikolay chased him, and they bumped into the porter and some other men down by the entrance gate to the building. When Nikolay caught up with Mitrey, they started brawling and punching each other in fun while several of the porters and other passersby yelled at them. Mitrey then ran off, and Nikolay, unable to catch him, returned to the apartment to clean up. As he was doing so, he stumbled across the jewelry case containing the earrings.
Raskolnikov panics, then falls silent—On hearing this, Raskolnikov sat up with a panicked look and asked about it several times, as though he needed confirmation. But when Razumikhin questioned him about his interest, Raskolnikov turned around again and fell silent. The others assumed he had fallen asleep, but as in previous moments since the beginning of the novel, and especially since Raskolnikov’s “illness,” various people—in this instance, Razumikhin and Zosimov—observed something unusual about Raskolnikov. Often, they would shrug it off or explain it away, but they took note nonetheless.
Razumikhin explains his view of the case—Razumikhin then resumed his story, explaining that Nikolay had run out of fear and decided to hang himself because he figured the police would blame him and there would be no way out. That bothered Razumikhin a great deal, but Zosimov wasn’t as convinced of Nikolay’s innocence. After all, how had the earrings gotten down to the second-floor apartment?
Razumikhin was surprised at the shallowness of Zosimov’s analytical powers. First, he reminded him that there were eight to ten witnesses who saw the two painters fighting good-naturedly, like silly little boys. One of these, Civil Councilor Kryukov, was even a respected gentleman. Second, given that the dead bodies were still warm, the murder must have taken place only minutes before. Psychologically, if he was the murderer, Nikolay’s actions didn’t make sense: leaving Alena Ivanovna’s door wide open, drawing attention to himself, being in a comical mood … none of that fit the gruesomeness of the murder scene. Yet Razumikhin doubted whether the Russian judicial system had the flexibility of mind to see things clearly. They were stuck on their own “evidence”—that Nikolay had found the earrings and tried to kill himself.
Razumikhin reconstructs the murderer’s escape and loss of the earrings—Zosimov wondered whether the police knew for a fact that the earrings had been among Alena Ivanovna’s pledges. Yes, Koch had been able to confirm this. But neither Koch nor Pestryakov nor anyone else remembered seeing Nikolay in the second-floor apartment, on the stairs, or by the building entrance. Zosimov now agreed more readily with Razumikhin’s assessment, but he still wondered how Razumikhin explained the earrings landing in the second-floor apartment. To Razumikhin it was clear, and he reconstructed exactly what had happened. His theory was that the murderer snuck out after Koch stupidly went downstairs. He would have then dropped the earrings when he hid momentarily behind the door of the second-floor apartment. Why hadn’t he noticed? He was too distracted. How did he get through the courtyard unobserved? He waited until the stairs and the courtyard were clear. Razumikhin figured that even if he had been seen walking through the courtyard, that fact in itself would have raised no suspicions since plenty of people went through all the time. But Zosimov was still not convinced. Razumikhin’s explanation was too brilliant—too well planned. However, before anyone could say anything further, they were interrupted by the arrival of an unknown gentleman.
Chapter 5
Peter Petrovich Luzhin—The new visitor was a formal, middle-aged gentleman who looked around with obvious shock and distaste as he slowly scanned the room. Razumikhin and Nastasya had managed to undress Raskolnikov but had not succeeded in getting him to put on his new clothes. Yet neither this nor the filthiness of his body and surroundings prevented Raskolnikov from returning the visitor’s fixed gaze with an equally fixed look of his own. Razumikhin joined in this silent staring contest, finally broken when the visitor, finding both Raskolnikov and Razumikhin too unkempt for his taste, addressed Zosimov as he pronounced Raskolnikov’s full name—Rodion Romanovich Raskolnikov—with great clarity. Razumikhin broke in, indicating Raskolnikov on the couch, and Zosimov immediately affirmed his statement. Raskolnikov’s pale, pained face had lapsed into a blank stare, and his voice was still weak. His manner, however, was rebellious and impatient, and he demanded to know what the visitor wanted. With that, Peter Petrovich Luzhin introduced himself, adding that he hoped Raskolnikov had heard of him.
Luzhin is surprised that Raskolnikov has not heard of him; Razumikhin invites him in—This was not what Raskolnikov had anticipated, and his silence seemed to indicate a lack of comprehension. Peter Petrovich was disappointed and surprised that Raskolnikov hadn’t yet received the letter telling about him. It must have been mailed two weeks earlier, and he had deliberately waited to come in order to ensure its arrival beforehand. Here Razumikhin broke in again, this time inviting the visitor, who had been standing in the doorway, to squeeze into the cramped quarters and have a seat. Seeing the visitor’s discomfort and uncertainty, Razumikhin introduced himself and Zosimov, explaining the situation and encouraging Luzhin to excuse their presence and conduct his business with Raskolnikov, who was well enough to handle it.
Raskolnikov examines Luzhin after explaining that he knows about him—Turning to Raskolnikov, Luzhin again began explaining about the letter, but Raskolnikov interrupted him abruptly to say that he already knew about both it and the fact that Luzhin was Dunya’s bridegroom. The interchange at least got Raskolnikov to examine his visitor more carefully. Luzhin’s light-colored, elegant summer clothing was all new and custom-made, and he was handsome, well groomed, and relatively youthful in appearance, all of which demonstrated that he had gone to great lengths to prepare himself to meet his fiancée. In spite of this, Raskolnikov did not respond well to his visitor, and as he turned his gaze back to the ceiling, the smile on his face showed malevolence.
Luzhin explains his delay in visiting and discusses the arrangements he has made for Raskolnikov’s mother and sister—Luzhin was baffled and insulted by Raskolnikov’s rude, unwelcoming, mean-spirited attitude, but he said nothing. After a restrained silence he apologized for not visiting sooner, now that he knew that Raskolnikov had been ill. He had had a lot of business affairs to deal with and had also been arranging for the arrival of Raskolnikov’s mother and sister. Among those arrangements was the rental of an inexpensive apartment in a building on Voznesensky Prospect, which Razumikhin immediately recognized as being an unsavory place. Luzhin had not known this, having gotten the information from Lebezyatnikov, a respectably employed former ward of his with whom he was currently staying. But he assured Razumikhin that his fiancée and mother-in-law’s stay there would be short, as their permanent residence was already being made ready for them.
Luzhin mentions his enjoyment of the forward-thinking younger generation and discusses the merits of the “practical” philosophy of self-interest—The mention of Lebezyatnikov led Luzhin to affirm his enjoyment of the younger generation. From them, he could always learn the latest thinking, and this was especially interesting to him as it had been a whole decade since he had last visited the Russian capital. When Razumikhin asked him what he meant, Luzhin explained that younger people seemed clearer-minded and more practical. Razumikhin vehemently disagreed. Practicality was something you learned over long years of experience, and Russia had no history of it. The romantic Russian sensibility might encourage honesty and goodness, though there was certainly plenty of the opposite, but it did not foster the practical mindset of the prosperous businessman. But Luzhin was not talking about obvious prosperity—it was too soon for that; nor did he believe in the extreme positions taken by some. His point was that there had been a profound shift in the overall thinking that had guided Russian life for so long, and the sentimental idealism of the past, with its strong roots in the Christian religion, had been replaced by a new, more “mature” and practical balance that took its cues from science and economics. That balance put individual self-care before taking care of your neighbor, since to care for your neighbor without having enough for yourself benefited no one in the end.
Raskolnikov and Razumikhin both indicate their impatience with Luzhin’s platitudes—Zosimov said little but was encouraging, while neither Raskolnikov nor Razumikhin agreed and both displayed impatience with what they considered worn-out platitudes, and Razumikhin wanted to put an end to the subject: he had heard it all before and considered it to be self-interested drivel that missed the point of the “common cause” and marred it by using it for its own purposes. With that, Razumikhin unceremoniously cut the topic short and went back to discussing the murder case with Zosimov.
Razumikhin explains his theory that the murderer is a bumbling amateur—Offended, yet managing to restrain himself, Luzhin decided to leave. Having extended his good wishes to Raskolnikov, he was on his way out when he got pulled into the murder conversation. Zosimov and Razumikhin had deduced that the murderer must have been one of Alena Ivanovna’s clients, and Razumikhin added that the magistrate was interviewing them all. This got Raskolnikov’s attention, but he would not elaborate on why it interested him. Zosimov then exclaimed that the murderer must have been experienced, but Razumikhin was again ahead of the others in his deductions. Having carefully thought the situation through, he concluded that the murderer had to be inexperienced and clumsy. His escape was pure luck. Otherwise, how could he have left things in such a half-finished state? He didn’t even touch the 1500 rubles in the top drawer of the chest. It was clearly the work of an amateur who got scared or confused and turned tail mid-job.
Luzhin and Razumikhin discuss the broader implications of rising crime in upper social circles—Here Luzhin broke in. He was interested in the broader implications of the case, which was yet another example of the rise of crime in higher social circles. There were numerous recent examples, many of them linked to money, and he wondered about the cause. Zosimov referred to the country’s recent widespread economic changes, and Razumikhin quickly pointed back to the people’s notorious lack of practical sense. The upper social circles were used to having everything handed to them and had therefore developed a taste for instant gratification. When things got difficult, some of the more impatient among them resorted to crime as a get-rich-quick scheme.
Raskolnikov joins the conversation, insults Luzhin, and throws everyone out—Luzhin seemed confused by the lack of moral structure implied by that, but here Raskolnikov came alive again. Didn’t Luzhin’s own philosophy of self-interest dispense with that if you took it to its final conclusion? If the self was the first and ultimate consideration, why not kill those who stood in the way of your own interests? Luzhin disagreed—he did not believe that the idea was meant to be understood in such an extreme light. Raskolnikov was clearly in a state of panic as he uttered his statement, and still shaking and enraged, he started getting more personal. Hadn’t Luzhin himself stated that he was marrying a poor woman so that he could later lord his generosity over her? By now, Luzhin’s anger had gotten the better of him. He could not believe that his intentions had been so distorted, but he suspected it was related to Raskolnikov’s mother’s romanticized sense of things. Raskolnikov took great offense at the mention of his mother’s name in this context, and rising up on his couch, he threatened to throw Luzhin down the stairs if he ever did so again. It was evident at this point that he had plenty of energy, and he even said himself that he was not sick. Having had enough, Luzhin quickly left, upon which Raskolnikov yelled at the others to get out as well.
Razumikhin and Zosimov discuss Raskolnikov’s strange behavior and decide to keep an eye on him—Razumikhin and Zosimov were both worried about Raskolnikov. They had both also noticed that he specifically sat up at the mention of the murder, and they had figured out the relationship between Luzhin and Raskolnikov from the context of their conversation. According to Zosimov, the last thing Raskolnikov needed right now was to be irritated. He would revisit him in half an hour, and he indicated that he, too, knew something and would fill Razumikhin in later. Meanwhile, Razumikhin would have Nastasya report to him on Raskolnikov’s condition. But Raskolnikov, pretending to be tired, had thrown her out, too.
Chapter 6
A new resolution—Raskolnikov had no intention of remaining in his room. A sense of calm had replaced the panic, and he rose and dressed himself in his new clothes and took the money from his mother, though he hesitated at first. Then he snuck down the stairs and out the door without being noticed.
Wandering the streets—Raskolnikov knew his life had to change, and today was the day to do it. Exactly how it would happen he didn’t know. He was also still weak, and he hoped that it wouldn’t interfere with his new determination. By now, it was already sunset, though it was still hot outside. Not having any plan, he headed, as usual, in the direction of the Haymarket, stopping on his way to listen to two young street musicians. There was something surreal in the girl’s worn, whimsical streetwalker’s garb, broken by the way she stopped the music suddenly and abruptly changed mood as soon as she received some money from Raskolnikov. Equally surreal were Raskolnikov’s dreamlike impressions of street music in general, expressed to a gentleman who didn’t know what to make of him and quickly distanced himself.
Observing humanity—At the Haymarket, Raskolnikov recognized the place where Lizaveta had been talking to the dealers, though it now stood empty. He was unable to find out more about them from a boy standing in front of a nearby shop, but he did learn that upstairs from the shop was a pub featuring billiards and prostitutes. He walked across the square through a crowd of peasants, and though he felt a desire to engage with them, they ignored him. He then continued to the Voznesensky Prospect and onto a side street. It was an unsavory area, one that he had frequented when feeling particularly bleak. Raskolnikov soon found himself in front of one building that housed various food and drink establishments, along with other entertainments. It was typical to find crowds of scantily clad women outside the building, as was the case now, along with fighting children, a couple of drunk men, and some merry-making ruckus from inside. Curious, Raskolnikov looked in. A thin female voice, accompanied by guitar, provided the backdrop to one man’s vigorous dancing. As Raskolnikov was deciding whether to get a drink, he heard a young female voice addressing him. The only pretty woman from the group outside, most of whom were over forty and hoarse-sounding, was inviting him in. They exchanged compliments but were immediately interrupted by a drunken peasant and one of the other women. As Raskolnikov headed away, he was accosted by another of the women, who begged him for some money for a drink. She offered him her services in the future but was reluctant to do so now because she didn’t want to have him “on her conscience.” After giving her some kopeks, Raskolnikov noticed another scarred and bruised-looking woman condemning her “shameful” behavior. As he walked away, Raskolnikov remembered something he had read once—a statement by a man about to be executed—that the worst life imaginable was better than no life. That desire to live no matter what rang true to Raskolnikov. It seemed to furnish some explanation for how people could choose such squalid lives and why condemning them for it made little sense.
Raskolnikov stops at a tavern to read the papers and meets Zametov—Raskolnikov soon found himself before the “Crystal Palace” and remembered that he had wanted to read the papers; so he stopped in at a tavern and asked for some tea and the papers from the last five days. The tavern was relatively empty, and Raskolnikov noticed someone resembling Zametov at one table but decided not to worry about it. He leafed through the papers, looking for something specific, which he finally found and read with great interest. But before he could find other accounts of the event, he noticed that he had company. It was Zametov, fashionable as ever, who had sat down next to him. Zametov’s attitude was familiar and friendly but perplexed—hadn’t Raskolnikov been ill just recently? Raskolnikov himself was not surprised that Zametov had come over. He had had a hunch about when he walked in.
Raskolnikov’s strange behavior—Raskolnikov’s interaction with Zametov was strange at best, as he experienced surges of mania that included the strong urge to stick out his tongue or laugh hysterically. Zametov kept trying to explain his behavior away, assuming that Raskolnikov was still sick or delirious, but Raskolnikov wasn’t helping matters. It was as if he was trying to tell Zametov that he was Alena Ivanovna’s murderer. He didn’t actually do this, though. Instead, he played a cat-and-mouse information game: I’ll leak some information and see what you do with it. His overall attitude was mocking, and at one point, he broke into a fit of nervous laughter. Right before that, he had just finished revealing that the newspaper story he was reading about with such interest was the murder of the old woman moneylender. He had stared at Zametov in silence for a whole minute afterwards, then dropped into a whisper and asked him if he understood. This perplexed Zametov, and it was then that Raskolnikov burst out laughing as he inwardly remembered himself hiding behind the door, axe in hand. That was when Zametov had a sudden intuition but wouldn’t say what, and afterwards there was silence again.
Conjecture about the criminal mentality—Raskolnikov lapsed into thoughtfulness again, then returned to his mocking attitude. Zametov mentioned the increase in swindling that had happened recently, citing the counterfeiting incident that occurred a month earlier. Raskolnikov scoffed. He saw that group as novices who couldn’t even change the money they counterfeited without trembling and neglecting to count it in full. That was the give-away. Besides, there were too many of them. With fifty people, the likelihood of one of them leaking the truth went way up. Zametov seemed doubtful—wouldn’t Raskolnikov’s hands shake if he went to a bank to change a counterfeit bill? Raskolnikov was secretly disdainful. He had apparently thought it through and now laid out his approach in great detail. Zametov was still not convinced. He could not believe that anyone, experienced or new, could keep his cool under such circumstances. Zametov cited the recent murder case as an example. Given what they knew of the case, the murderer had obviously not been able to prevent his hands from shaking.
Raskolnikov practically gives himself away—This statement got Raskolnikov going again. So they thought they had the case all figured out? Why not prove it then by catching the murderer? They didn’t even know what to look for. They probably thought he was some poor bloke who would suddenly spend wads of money and head to the pub first thing. Zametov was interested to know what Raskolnikov would have done, so blow by blow, Raskolnikov described exactly what he did and finished by saying that, if it were him, he wouldn’t touch the money for another two or three years. There would be no way the authorities could trace him.
By this time, Zametov was starting to get scared. Raskolnikov could hardly control his twitching face and mouth, and he got right up close to Zametov, and with an intense look in his eyes, finally blurted it out. What if he had killed the two women? He wanted to see if Zametov believed him, but Zametov denied it, especially now. Raskolnikov kept prodding him: then what was that conversation about right after he left the police station? He then rose to pay his bill and was practically showing off how much money he had as well as his new clothes. He seemed to be mocking Zametov and his theories, and having finished, he ended on a sarcastic note and exited the tavern.
Raskolnikov runs into Razumikhin—If Raskolnikov achieved nothing else with that conversation, at least he managed to overturn Zametov’s thinking about the case. While Zametov remained behind and concluded that Ilya Petrovich was an idiot, Raskolnikov, now in a state of alternating adrenaline and exhaustion, walked out the door and right into Razumikhin. At first, there was silence, but that soon turned to fury as Razumikhin questioned why Raskolnikov was at the Crystal Palace and not in bed. They had already started looking for him, and Nastasya had gotten into trouble. Raskolnikov was annoyed. Razumikhin refused to let him pass and was threatening to carry him home, so he explained with apparent calm that quickly turned to insane rage that he had no interest in Razumikhin’s help. It was nothing more than an irritation, and it was interfering with his recovery. He wanted them all to just leave him in peace.
Razumikhin’s last attempt—Razumikhin almost complied, but he wasn’t convinced. As far as he was concerned, Raskolnikov and others like him were all talk, and his talk was foolishness in spite of his intelligence. In his view, the best thing Raskolnikov could do now was to come to Razumikhin’s housewarming party later that evening, where he could rest in comfort among enjoyable people. But Raskolnikov had no interest (though Razumikhin bet he would show up), and all Razumikhin could do before going in to see Zametov was to leave Raskolnikov with the exact address and his repeated encouragements to be there. But Razumikhin was worried. Before going into the tavern, he turned around one more time and ran out to look for Raskolnikov, but his friend had already disappeared.
Raskolnikov witnesses an attempted suicide—Now alone again, Raskolnikov headed over to the Voznesensky Bridge. He was feeling weak, so he leaned on the wall and looked out over the water as darkness settled over the city. He started feeling dizzy and was on the verge of fainting when he sensed a presence beside him. A haggard, ill-looking woman with a yellow face was climbing over the wall and then threw herself into the polluted water, where she lay floating face down. There was a commotion as crowds of people gathered, and one woman identified her as “our Afrosinyushka.” Afrosinyushka was not destined to die that day. A policeman soon pulled her out, and she recovered, but she remained silent. According to the woman who recognized her, she had tried to hang herself before.
Raskolnikov decides to turn himself in and stops by the murder site on the way—Raskolnikov felt oddly removed from the whole situation, but when someone mentioned the police station, it stirred something in him. In spite of his general indifference, he had made up his mind to go to the police and tell all. A number of confused thoughts about different “ways out” were floating through his mind as he headed over to the station, when he suddenly found himself in front of the building where the murder had taken place. Feeling drawn to go in, he climbed the stairs, noting the changes like the freshly painted door, now closed, on the second floor. Finally, he arrived at the fourth floor. The door was open, and there were two workmen inside, so he went in, unnoticed by either of them as he sat down on the windowsill. It bothered and surprised him that the apartment was being fixed up, since for some reason he had expected everything to be the same.
Raskolnikov bewilders the workmen—Raskolnikov listened to the workmen chat among themselves for a while, then got up and headed into the former bedroom, now empty. The older, more experienced workman had noticed him in the meantime and questioned what he was doing there. Raskolnikov answered that he was interested in renting the place. That seemed strange to the workman, who informed him that such transactions happened during the daytime, not in the evening, and that he should check with the porter. But Raskolnikov’s madness had taken over once again. He asked why they had removed the pool of blood. The workman didn’t know what he was talking about, so Raskolnikov explained that there had been a murder. This shocked the workman, who wanted to know who Raskolnikov was. Raskolnikov’s reply was that they should go to the police station, where he would tell him all about it.
Raskolnikov taunts the porters, who throw him out—It was time for the workmen to leave, anyway, which meant Raskolnikov had to go, too. He didn’t seem to care either way, and once down at the gate, he seemed determined to get into trouble as he called for the porter. There were several people standing around with the two porters, and Raskolnikov’s first few questions were about the police station. When one of the porters asked why he was interested, Raskolnikov said nothing, so the older workman chimed in, explaining what had gone on upstairs. This struck everyone as strange, and one man suggested taking Raskolnikov to the police. Raskolnikov himself still seemed completely indifferent: when the porter asked him who he was, he gave his full name and address. He even taunted the porter about being afraid to go to the police, and the group started to suspect him of being up to no good. Finally, the other porter, a heavy man, grabbed Raskolnikov and threw him out. The porters didn’t want to get involved, even if Raskolnikov did belong at the police station. Besides, there were a lot of strange people about these days.
Another opportunity for delay—Despite Raskolnikov’s determination to turn himself in, he seemed to be procrastinating. And the perfect opportunity to keep doing so now presented itself in a sudden commotion taking place up the road in the darkness.
Chapter 7
A terrible accident—The cause of the commotion was an elegant coach that had accidentally run over a drunken man who had fallen in front of it as it was on its way to pick up the wealthy owner. The man had suffered severe head and face injuries and now lay on the ground, unconscious and bleeding, beneath the wheels of the carriage. The confused driver protested that the carriage had not been going fast and that he had called out to the man three times. This was corroborated by several witnesses, and they concluded that the man must be drunk. He had fallen in front of the horses, who got excited and trampled him.
Raskolnikov recognizes Marmeladov and has him carried to his apartment—Raskolnikov had been pushing his way through the crowd to get a look. In the light from the policeman’s lantern, he suddenly saw that the victim was Marmeladov, and forcing his way to the front, he cried out that he knew him and that he would pay any doctor’s fees. Identifying himself, Raskolnikov insisted that they take Marmeladov to his own home. There was a doctor in the building who could attend to him, and the hospital was too far: by the time they reached it, Marmeladov would be dead. The incident produced a sudden surge of energy in Raskolnikov, who now directed how and where Marmeladov should be carried. He kept insisting that he would pay any expenses, muttering that he was thankful to do so.
Back at Marmeladov’s apartment—The scene now shifts to Marmeladov’s apartment, where his wife, Katerina Ivanovna, is rambling on and on to her ten-year-old daughter between consumptive coughing fits. The daughter, Polenka, who pretends to understand whatever her mother says, is getting her little brother ready for bed while their younger sister waits to the side. Katerina Ivanovna is telling her daughter how well they used to live at home with her father, who was just one rank shy of governor. She had danced alongside princes and princesses, and she almost received a marriage proposal from one prince until she told him that she was in love with someone else (Marmeladov). The backdrop for this story is a far cry from Katerina Ivanovna’s former conditions. The room is filled with smoke from the neighbors’ tobacco habits, her youngest is barefoot and in rags, and between giving her children different practical instructions about laundry, mending, etc., she wonders why her dissolute husband hasn’t shown up yet.
The crowd arrives with Marmeladov—Katerina Ivanovna’s question is answered when a crowd suddenly gathers by her door and the policemen ask her where to put Marmeladov. Raskolnikov tells them to lay him on the couch and then explains the situation to Katerina Ivanovna, assuring her that her husband will regain consciousness and that he (Raskolnikov) will take care of the doctor’s expenses. Upset but not faint, Katerina Ivanovna quickly springs into action to help her husband. In the meantime, Raskolnikov has sent for the doctor and also moves quickly to help take care of Marmeladov. When Raskolnikov asks for some water to wipe Marmeladov’s head, Katerina Ivanovna goes to fetch the laundry basin full of water. Seeing her weakness, Raskolnikov wonders whether he has done the right thing.
Marmeladov’s wife throws the crowd of onlookers out and fends off the landlady—As Raskolnikov was wiping Marmeladov’s head, Katerina Ivanovna instructed Polenka to fetch Sonya at once. By now, only one policeman was left, but meanwhile, both the crowd from outside and the building’s inhabitants had entered and left the room so full that there was standing room only. Seeing this, Katerina Ivanovna yelled at them to get out. Her shrieking was effective, but the crowd was soon replaced by the appearance of the German landlady at the door. She insisted that Marmeladov should be in the hospital, not in her house. Katerina Ivanovna was not about to be told what to do. In her most imperious manner, she informed her landlady that Marmeladov was dying, that he should be left in peace, and that she would report the landlady to the governor, whom she knew personally, if she did not cooperate.
Marmeladov comes to—Katerina Ivanovna’s speech was interrupted by her own coughing and her husband’s groans as he came to. Marmeladov saw Raskolnikov first but didn’t recognize him. Marmeladov was in bad shape: his chest was crushed, his breath was labored, the sweat stood on his brow, and blood was issuing from his mouth. When he saw his wife, he recognized her and asked for a priest. With tears in her eyes, Katerina Ivanovna desperately cried out that they had all left. Marmeladov wondered why his youngest, favorite daughter Lida was barefoot; but Katerina Ivanovna quickly brushed him off, saying that he knew why.
The doctor’s hopeless prognosis—At that moment, the elderly German doctor arrived. As he examined Marmeladov’s badly wounded head and chest, brought about by the carriage wheel dragging him 90 feet, the doctor wondered that he was conscious at all. It was clear to him that he would die within minutes. As he was telling this to Raskolnikov, the priest arrived. The doctor moved to go, but Raskolnikov pleaded with him to stay. He still cherished hopes that something could be done despite the desperate prognosis.
Sonya arrives—By the dim candlelight, Marmeladov muttered his incoherent last confession to the priest as his family knelt by the stove and prayed. Meanwhile, a crowd of neighbors from the building pressed together by the door, though no one ventured in. Suddenly, Polenka burst through the crowd, announcing that Sonya was on the way. As Polenka joined her family by the stove, Sonya arrived, dressed in her prostitute’s costume and looking completely out of place. Her costume, incidentally, was exactly the same as the one worn by the young street singer Raskolnikov had seen earlier. Sonya was in her late teens, pale, thin, and with striking blue eyes. She hesitated by the door, then finally went in and stood next to the doorway in the shadows, watching her father and the priest.
Katerina Ivanovna’s bitterness—When the priest was done with the sacrament, he went to comfort Katerina Ivanovna, but she wouldn’t hear it. She wanted to know how she was going to feed her children. The priest suggested that the owner of the carriage might compensate them, but she explained that her husband was a drunkard and had caused the accident himself. It was a good thing he was dying—it would be easier on the family. The priest exhorted her to forgive, exclaiming that her words were sinful. She had been tending to Marmeladov during this conversation, but now she yelled at the priest. His words were all talk. She described how her husband came home drunk every night, leaving her to spend the whole night washing and mending laundry. Even so, she had forgiven him. She was interrupted by her coughing again, and she showed the priest the blood she had just spit up.
Marmeladov notices Sonya and dies in her arms—Marmeladov stirred to ask his wife for forgiveness, but she told him to be quiet. Then he saw Sonya standing in the shadows and became suddenly agitated as he asked who she was. In a surge of strength, he managed to prop himself up—and then he recognized her. It was the first time he had seen her dressed like that, and the sight her ashamed condition gave him great pain. He reached out his arm to her as he cried out for forgiveness, and in the process he fell off the bed. In that moment, she ran over to him and held him in her arms as he died.
Raskolnikov explains his relationship with Marmeladov and donates twenty rubles—Meanwhile, Katerina Ivanovna resumed her worries over practical matters like how she could afford to bury her husband and feed her children. It was then that Raskolnikov approached her and told her about his short interaction with Marmeladov and how they had become friends. He finished by giving her twenty rubles, saying that he would return to check on them and, if needed, help them.
Raskolnikov meets Nikodim Fomich on the way out—With that, Raskolnikov left, and as he was heading out, he ran into Nikodim Fomich. Looking directly at Nikodim Fomich, Raskolnikov explained the situation and added not to perturb Marmeladov’s sick wife. Nikodim Fomich then commented on the bloodstains on Raskolnikov’s vest, but Raskolnikov just smiled a strange smile, admitted that he was covered with blood, and went his way.
An affectionate encounter with Polenka—Raskolnikov was feeling a new sense of life within himself, and as he neared the bottom of the stairs, he heard Polenka calling after him. She was breathless and smiling, and she wanted to know his name and address. Raskolnikov was happy to see her and asked who had sent her. He was not surprised when she informed him that it was Sonya, but she quickly added that her mother had expressed the same wish. Raskolnikov then asked Polenka whether she loved Sonya, and when Polenka affirmed that she loved her more than anyone, he asked her whether she would love him, too. Her response was to hug him tightly and cry on his shoulder while she lamented her papa’s fate and all the bad things that had happened recently. Raskolnikov then asked her whether her papa had loved her. She earnestly replied that he had loved little Lida best, but he had spent time educating the children in reading, grammar, and scripture, and now her mother would continue her education with French lessons. Finally, Raskolnikov asked her whether she knew how to pray. Certainly, came the answer, and she described how they all prayed for Sonya, this papa, and their “old one,” who had died before. Raskolnikov asked whether she would pray for him, too—nothing complicated but just to mention him as “thy servant Rodion.” She threw her arms around him again, and after he gave her his address and name, they parted.
A new lease on life—By now, it was 11 p.m., and Raskolnikov soon found himself looking out over the canal, right where the desperate woman had jumped in. Standing there, he felt a new determination. The condemnation to death he had experienced after committing the murder had been replaced by a new feeling of life and hope, an inner strength, and he sensed that his illness had lifted. But his body was still weak, and since he was close to Razumikhin’s, he decided to go his friend’s housewarming party. Razumikhin could win his bet, and Raskolnikov could start to regain his strength. He still didn’t understand what had changed in him, and for a moment, he remembered the phrase he had asked Polenka to use in her prayers: “thy servant Rodion”— but he brushed it aside as silliness.
At Razumikhin’s—Raskolnikov could hear Razumikhin’s party from halfway down the stairs after entering the building. There were about fifteen people, and he could see the landlord’s servants bringing in the food. He decided it was too much for him to deal with and that he would just greet Razumikhin outside and leave.
Razumikhin must have had quite a bit to drink, because it had started to affect him even though he could hold his liquor better than most. He was happy to see Raskolnikov for several reasons. For one thing, he was tired of the nonsense his guests were discussing and could use some fresh air. He would walk his friend home, especially since Raskolnikov was weak. But first Zosimov would examine him, so Razumikhin went to fetch the doctor.
Zosimov’s face looked strangely curious at first, but he soon seemed relieved and gave Raskolnikov some medicine, which he took right away. Zosimov, too, was in favor of having Razumikhin bring Raskolnikov home, though he seemed to think that things had improved significantly.
Razumikhin tells Raskolnikov about people’s suspicions—As Razumikhin accompanied Raskolnikov outside, he informed him that Zosimov suspected him of being insane, which was why he had encouraged Razumikhin to walk him home and talk openly to him. That way, he could report back to him about what Raskolnikov said. Razumikhin was convinced Zosimov was a blockhead. After all, he was a surgeon with no training in mental illness, and besides, he wasn’t even half as bright as Raskolnikov. He was just reacting to what Zametov had said about his earlier encounter with Raskolnikov at the Crystal Palace. Razumikhin didn’t say it outright—nor had Zametov and Zosimov—but he hinted that they thought Raskolnikov had committed the murder. However, the arrest of the painter had eliminated all suspicion, and even Ilya Petrovich no longer believed it and regretted his behavior following Raskolnikov’s fainting spell at the police station.
Razumikhin kept excusing his drunken state, which explained why his speech was tumbling out of him in a confused manner. His main point was that Raskolnikov had left Zametov bewildered and had even stuck out his tongue at him. Razumikhin explained, though, that it wasn’t the apparent madness but Raskolnikov’s fixation with the murder that had struck Zametov and the others. He added that Porfiry was also interested in meeting him.
Raskolnikov speaks of his recent experience at Marmeladov’s—After a pause, Raskolnikov confided to Razumikhin about where he had just been. His impressions came out in half-sentences: how a man had just died, that he had given away all his money, of the young girl’s innocent kiss and the other girl’s feather the color of flame (referring to Sonya’s straw hat). But he knew he was rambling, and he was faint and weak. He also felt a deep, inexplicable sadness.
A light in his room … and a surprise—On entering his building, Raskolnikov noticed a light in his room. He couldn’t imagine who would be there at this hour, since Nastasya was usually asleep. Despite Raskolnikov’s protests, Razumikhin insisted on going with him. As they neared the room, they could hear people talking, and when Raskolnikov opened door, he was surprised to see his mother and sister, who had been waiting for him for the last hour and a half. They had been crying and worrying about their Rodya. Nastasya was also there and had answered all their questions, filling them in on the details of recent events. Now they ran to Raskolnikov with joy and embraced him. But Raskolnikov was too weak and stunned to react, and he finally fell over in a faint.
Razumikhin saves the day—Razumikhin, who had been watching all this from the door, ran to his friend’s aid and carried him to the couch. Calling for water, he assured Raskolnikov’s mother and sister that all would be well—in fact, Raskolnikov had already revived. The two women had heard from Nastasya all that Razumikhin had done for “Rodya,” but now, witnessing it firsthand, they were filled with deep gratitude and affection.
Part III
Chapter 1
An uneasy welcome—Raskolnikov’s intense, fixed look frightened his mother and sister as he held their hands and stared at them in silence. He had not expected them and wasn’t ready to deal with their arrival. He wanted them to go with Razumikhin—they could come back tomorrow. His mother was not so easily put off. She had not seen her son for three years, and she insisted on spending the night. To Raskolnikov, the idea was torture, and Dunya could see that they needed to leave for at least a little while.
Raskolnikov insists Dunya call off her marriage to Luzhin—But before that, Raskolnikov wanted to know whether they had seen Luzhin yet. No, they hadn’t, though he knew they had arrived. Raskolnikov was completely straightforward about how he had threatened Luzhin and kicked him out. His mother and sister had already heard the story from Nastasya, but his mother was aghast—she could not believe it was true. Raskolnikov now insisted that Dunya call off the marriage. He would not have his sister sacrificing her life for him—she would have to choose one or the other. Dunya’s temper flared for a moment, but she controlled it, and seeing her brother was not himself, she gently told him goodbye till later.
Razumikhin discourages Raskolnikov’s mother from staying—Razumikhin had tried to excuse Raskolnikov by saying he was raving, but Raskolnikov insisted he was not. Apparently exhausted, he ended the conversation by lying down and facing the wall. Pulkheria Alexandrovna, Raskolnikov’s mother, still refused to leave, but Razumikhin managed to get her out onto the stairway. She was determined to talk to the landlady so that she and Dunya could at least stay in the building. But Razumikhin didn’t think it was a good idea: Raskolnikov had already slipped out once, and Razumikhin was worried that his friend might hurt himself if he got too aggravated.
Razumikhin’s excited state—Between the combination of excitement and alcohol, Razumikhin had gotten himself into a state, and he was squeezing the two women’s hands so forcibly that it was painful for them. Meanwhile, he rambled on and on about why Raskolnikov’s mother couldn’t stay, that he would get the doctor and spend the night there himself, though out of sight, etc. He would report back to her with both the doctor’s opinion and his own, and if the doctor’s report was bad, she could return.
Razumikhin’s outbursts as he escorts the ladies—Pulkheria Alexandrovna finally agreed to let Razumikhin escort her and Dunya through the empty streets to the hotel, so the three of them headed out, leaving Nastasya to keep Raskolnikov company. But when Pulkheria Alexandrovna expressed doubt about whether Razumikhin was in any condition to keep his promises, Razumikhin broke into another verbal outburst: he might be drunk, but he would pour cold water on his head—and besides he loved them both, simply because they were related to Raskolnikov, his friend. He had had a premonition and felt they were a godsend—but Razumikhin also let it slip that the doctor was afraid Raskolnikov was going mad. This shocked Raskolnikov’s mother, and when Dunya asked for confirmation, Razumikhin quickly backed off, repeating that he was drunk and that his acquaintances (including the doctor) all talked nonsense. Their concept of progress was to take all the personality out of people. He did not agree with them at all and almost got into a fight over it. He added that he didn’t mind if people voiced their own original nonsense—it was through exploring many false ideas that human beings arrived at the truth. Done honestly, that was fine; but simply mimicking other people’s ideas, no matter how true, was unacceptable. Still in a state of excitement, Razumikhin asked for confirmation of his view. Pulkheria Alexandrovna hesitated, but Dunya impatiently affirmed it, though she didn’t completely agree. Overwhelmed that she could see his point, Razumikhin knelt on the sidewalk to kiss both women’s hands. This startled them again, but Dunya was also laughing as she told him to get up.
Razumikhin’s real opinion of Luzhin—Meanwhile, they had arrived at the hotel, which prompted Razumikhin to tell them his real opinion of Luzhin: he was a “scoundrel” for putting them up in such an unsavory place, and Rodion was right to kick him out. He wouldn’t state his full reason for voicing this opinion (though it was clear he was taken with Dunya), but he was adamant that Luzhin was not on the right path. Razumikhin’s friends might be drunk at the moment, but at least they were honest, and their hearts were in the right place. Luzhin’s was not. Meanwhile, they had arrived at the hotel room, so Razumikhin bid them goodbye for now, instructing them to keep their hotel door locked. He would be back with a report in fifteen minutes and again thirty minutes after that, when he would bring the doctor.
Alone in the hotel room—Alone with her daughter, Pulkheria Alexandrovna expressed her fears that Razumikhin was not reliable and that she had done the wrong thing by leaving Rodya. She did not understand the severe look in her son’s eyes, and she feared that his sickness would lead to worse. But Dunya assured her that Rodya was crying, too, and she was certain Razumikhin—whom she saw as a godsend—would come through. Pulkheria Alexandrovna also believed that Rodya would retract what he had said about the marriage, but Dunya disagreed. She seemed more level and clear-sighted than her mother, but she understood her mother’s emotionality, and they hugged each other in silence before Dunya took to pacing the floor, something she did when she was thinking deeply.
Dunya’s beauty and her mother’s attractiveness—Razumikhin had good reason to be taken with Dunya. She was like a beautiful female version of Raskolnikov, tall and dark, and though she was pale, she was also healthy and strong. Her personality was also strong, serious, and passionate, though not limited to these traits. She had moments of graceful compassion, fiery determination, joyful radiance, and clear-sighted strength. Razumikhin had already experienced several of these moments, and he had been instantly smitten. For this reason, he had resisted letting Pulkheria Alexandrovna consult with the landlady. He had feared the latter might be jealous not only of Dunya’s beauty but also of Pulkheria Alexandrovna’s own charms, which still shone through her forty-three years in both mental and, to some extent, physical qualities. Above all, she had an honesty and a sense of right that gave her an underpinning of strength, offsetting her emotionality and timidity.
Razumikhin’s brief return inspires confidence in Raskolnikov’s mother—Razumikhin returned twenty minutes later to report that Raskolnikov was sleeping peacefully and that Nastasya was there with him. Zosimov would also be reporting shortly. Razumikhin did not enter but only gave his report and then immediately headed off, which impressed Pulkheria Alexandrovna and inspired her with confidence.
Zosimov’s visit—Zosimov arrived an hour later. He, too, was struck by Dunya’s beauty, but he managed to remain entirely professional and focused on Pulkheria Alexandrovna until the end of ten-minute visit. His report was good. He attributed the illness to a combination of various anxieties and unhealthy living conditions. When Raskolnikov’s mother asked about the diagnosis of mental illness, Zosimov admitted that he had mistaken Raskolnikov’s single-minded fixation on one subject as a sign of monomania, a topic that fascinated him. But he believed the family’s presence would be helpful, though he stressed the importance of avoiding any further trauma. Having fulfilled his duty and pleased with his professionalism, Zosimov took his leave amid a shower of gratitude. Razumikhin had been waiting during the visit, and as he and Zosimov left, he promised the two women that he would return early the following day with more news of Rodya’s condition.
Razumikhin’s passion—Once outside, Zosimov immediately commented on how attractive he found Dunya. Still drunk, Razumikhin reacted by grabbing Zosimov’s throat and backing him against the wall, threatening that he had better stay away from her. After pulling himself loose, Zosimov quickly realized what was going on and laughed loudly. But Razumikhin was serious. He apologized, knowing he was still drunk, but his feelings for Dunya obviously ran deep, and he also knew Zosimov to be a womanizer.
Razumikhin’s plan for the landlady—But now Razumikhin had a problem, and maybe Zosimov’s way with women could help. He explained that he had succeeded too well in charming Raskolnikov’s landlady, and he needed to turn her attention elsewhere. To do that, he had arranged for Zosimov to spend the night in her apartment, while he stayed in the kitchen. Razumikhin had figured out exactly how to charm the landlady, and he explained it all to Zosimov. Zosimov could not understand why Razumikhin had gotten himself in this bind to begin with or why he wanted him to take over the charming. Razumikhin wouldn’t explain why. Instead, appealing to Zosimov’s self-indulgent side, he promised it would result in a comfortable existence, and he would give anything if Zosimov would do him this favor. Razumikhin cut his rambling short as they entered Raskolnikov’s building: they both needed sleep, and they would let each other know of any problems with Raskolnikov. But they had left him sleeping soundly and didn’t anticipate anything.
Chapter 2
Razumikhin’s shame—Razumikhin awoke the next morning ashamed of his behavior the day before. He had even had a disturbing dream, apparently about Dunya, though we never get the details. Although he blamed his behavior on his drunkenness, he didn’t consider it an excuse. He didn’t even know Luzhin, so what right did he have to judge him or to doubt Dunya’s motives in marrying the man? And who was Razumikhin to think Dunya would be interested in him? He had even let slip about the landlady’s possible jealousy, which made him so ashamed that he smacked the stove, injuring his hand in the process.
Special care with his grooming—Still, none of this stopped him from keeping his promise to meet the ladies at the hotel, but he resolved to behave more respectfully and be more rational in his expectations. Even so, he took special care to make himself presentable. Something extraordinary had happened in his life, and he made sure to wash his hair and brush his clothes. but he decided not to shave since that would be too obvious. Besides, after his behavior and appearance yesterday, how could Dunya possibly be interested in him? He was sure both ladies thought he was a filthy scoundrel, so why not just be one?
Leakage about Raskolnikov’s “madness;” Zosimov’s lack of success with the landlady—
Razumikhin’s distracted babbling to himself was interrupted by Zosimov, who was about to check on Raskolnikov before going home and returning later. When he learned from Razumikhin that Raskolnikov was still sleeping, Zosimov gave instructions to leave him undisturbed. In the meantime, he hoped his patient wouldn’t suddenly take off—he was so unpredictable. Razumikhin apologetically admitted that he had told Raskolnikov about Zosimov’s impressions of madness. He was concerned about the potential effect of the information on Raskolnikov. Zosimov noted that Raskolnikov’s mother and sister also knew about it and that Zametov, whom he liked in general but who talked too much, had leaked it to Porfiry. Zosimov explained that his opinion of Raskolnikov’s monomania (extreme fixation with one thing) was never more than an impression gathered from Raskolnikov’s general behavior and that even Razumikhin had noticed it. But people with that tendency—and there was a lot of evidence of it in Raskolnikov’s behavior—often exaggerated the smallest things, so he suggested that Raskolnikov’s sister and mother be careful in their dealings with him today. Perhaps Razumikhin could tell them and thank the landlady as well for letting him spend the night in her parlor. He added that he had had absolutely no success with her. She had locked herself in her bedroom all night, then gotten up early and gone into the kitchen without even acknowledging him.
A surprisingly warm welcome—Razumikhin arrived at the ladies’ hotel as promised and was astounded to find himself warmly welcomed when he had expected disdain. This only compounded his confusion and embarrassment, so he was glad to focus on other things. Dunya and her mother had been up for hours anxiously awaiting Razumikhin’s arrival. They had even waited to have breakfast in order to include him. Unfortunately, the hotel showed its character when the tea was delivered in a sloppy, filthy fashion, which left the ladies embarrassed and Razumikhin ranting about the hotel until he remembered his vow to be respectful.
Answering the ladies’ questions—But the ladies were eager to know about their “Rodya,” so Razumikhin did his best to fill them in, though he left out the potentially upsetting parts. That took a good forty-five minutes, and it still wasn’t enough for Raskolnikov’s mother and sister.
Razumikhin’s account of Raskolnikov—Pulkheria Alexandrovna was especially interested in what Razumikhin could tell her about her son’s character and inner world. She had not seen Rodya in a while and didn’t know what changes had taken place. His strange reception of them concerned her, and she wanted to understand. Razumikhin told her that he had known Rodion for half of the three years since he had been away from his family. His character was not an easy one to decipher. He could be kind and generous but also moody, cold, and indifferent. He had been depressed for a long time and mostly stayed aloof from other people, considering himself better than others. He never did anything, but he had no time for trivia, was impatient with other people’s ideas, and never even joked. Razumikhin added that it seemed like Rodion had a split personality, with each side taking over at different times.
A question about whether Raskolnikov was capable of intimate love—Dunya, who had been pacing the floor, approved of Razumikhin’s objective account of her brother’s character, but she wondered whether he was involved with a woman. She thought it might be a good thing, but Razumikhin had his doubts about whether Raskolnikov was capable of that kind of love. When Dunya questioned him on it, Razumikhin suddenly blurted how alike brother and sister were—and then immediately became silent and embarrassed. Fortunately, Dunya laughed good-naturedly at this.
Raskolnikov’s engagement to the landlady’s daughter—Raskolnikov’s mother had her own ideas about her son’s character. He had been complex, moody, and unpredictable even as an adolescent, and he would do things that others would never consider. She was completely baffled, for instance, by his insistence on marrying the landlady’s daughter and his lack of concern or caring about the impact on his family. Razumikhin had learned only a few peculiar details from the normally private landlady, who disapproved of the marriage. He described the daughter as having some good characteristics (never specified) but otherwise as unattractive, sickly, and strange. Nor did she have a dowry, but that would not have influenced Raskolnikov, anyway. Dunya was not impressed with this description, and Pulkheria Alexandrovna admitted to being grateful when the girl died. She was convinced that the relationship would have been mutually destructive.
Talk of Luzhin—The topic now changed to Raskolnikov’s treatment of Luzhin the previous day. Both Razumikhin and Pulkheria Alexandrovna were sure that Raskolnikov had reacted from a predetermined decision and not because of his illness. But Pulkheria Alexandrovna was also curious about Razumikhin’s changed attitude toward Luzhin. He explained that he had lost his head the day before, in part because of his drunkenness, and that he was ashamed. He had no right to be anything but respectful to the man that Dunya had chosen as her fiancé. His statement was followed by an embarrassed silence on his and Dunya’s part, but that was soon interrupted by Pulkheria Alexandrovna.
The truth about Luzhin—Meanwhile, with Dunya’s permission, Pulkheria Alexandrovna had decided to be completely open with Razumikhin. She explained that Luzhin had failed to keep his promise to meet them at the station and had instead sent a servant. He had also failed to show that morning—again, as promised—but had sent a letter in his place. The letter itself was disconcerting to Pulkheria Alexandrovna, and she wanted Razumikhin’s opinion, although she added that Dunya had already made her decision. By now, she was calling Razumikhin by his first name, Dmitri Prokofich, and she handed him the letter to read.
Luzhin’s letter—Luzhin’s supposed reasons for not meeting them personally had to do with Senate business as well as unforeseen troubles. He was also offended by Raskolnikov’s horrendous treatment of him the previous day. Luzhin further noted that he was aware of Raskolnikov’s sudden recovery from his illness—within two hours—and that he had seen him in the apartment of a dying drunkard whose daughter was known for her unrespectable behavior. Furthermore, he had seen Raskolnikov giving her almost all the money his mother had sacrificed at great expense to herself, and he suspected that the real motive had nothing to do with funeral expenses. He would therefore come to see Pulkheria Alexandrovna and Avdotya Romanovna (Dunya) at eight o’clock that evening on the condition that Raskolnikov should not be there. If he did show, then the ladies would have to take the consequences, though Luzhin did not specify what these would be.
Dunya’s decision; her mother’s confusion—Razumikhin did not offer an opinion but referred the decision to Dunya, who had made up her mind that her brother should be there that evening when Luzhin arrived. She did not explain her reasoning, but she was firm on that point. Her mother, however, was baffled. She didn’t understand the part in the letter about the drunkard and his daughter, and she was worried about what would happen if Luzhin and her son met. Razumikhin had also heard snippets about the incident with the dying man, but he didn’t understand the context. He added that Raskolnikov had been in a strange mood the day before.
Razumikhin quietly notices the ladies’ poverty but also their dignity—Dunya had more confidence in her brother, and realizing that it was already 11 a.m., she suggested they hurry over to see him. Razumikhin noticed that she checked the time on an expensive gold watch that she wore as a necklace. He guessed that it was a gift from Luzhin, as it contrasted sharply with the rest of the women’s clothing, which was obviously worn. Yet both women managed to look dignified and elegant, and Razumikhin only loved and admired Dunya all the more for her dignity amidst poverty.
Pulkheria Alexandrovna’s troubled dream; her deep appreciation of Razumikhin—Pulkheria Alexandrovna was still worried about meeting her son, and her worry was compounded by a dream she had had that Marfa Petrovna, who had suddenly died, came to her dressed in white and shaking her head in a severe warning gesture. Dunya reminded her mother that Razumikhin was unfamiliar with Marfa Petrovna, so Pulkheria Alexandrovna apologized that her distress had made her confused and disoriented. She had come to see Razumikhin as an angel of mercy and a member of the family, and she even questioned him about his injured hand, but he only mumbled his reply. The words were practically falling out of Pulkheria Alexandrovna’s mouth as she flitted from one thought to the next: her son’s crankiness, the possibility of annoying him, his dingy apartment. She wanted to know how to deal with Rodya, so Razumikhin advised her not to question him too much, especially about his health.
The landlady’s jealousy—By now, they had arrived at Raskolnikov’s building, and as Dunya calmed her mother, Razumikhin went ahead to check whether Raskolnikov was still sleeping. As the two women passed the landlady’s apartment, they noticed two eyes peering out at them where the door was ajar. But that lasted only a moment as the door slammed shut with startling force.
Chapter 3
Raskolnikov is improved—Raskolnikov still looked pale and pained, but he had washed, dressed, and groomed himself, and he seemed more in control. His reaction to his friends and family was mixed: the warmth and light that glowed for a moment was soon replaced by a controlled anguish that did not escape the notice of Zosimov, who was already there.
Zosimov’s advice—Zosimov was pleased with Raskolnikov’s recovery, but he advised that removing the cause of the illness was key, and though Zosimov didn’t know exactly what that was, he related it to Raskolnikov’s departure from the university. He therefore recommended activity and a steady goal. Raskolnikov agreed that a return to university would be beneficial, but Zosimov couldn’t help noticing a fleeting look of disdain on his patient’s face in response to his advice.
Raskolnikov’s gratitude and perplexity—In spite of this, Raskolnikov was grateful for the doctor’s attentions, though he could not understand how he could merit such generosity. He expressed the same mixture of gratitude and confusion towards Razumikhin as well as his mother and sister, but Razumikhin brushed it off as sentimentality. Dunya, however, silently observed that it was actually the opposite state.
An inspiring moment—Raskolnikov suddenly took his sister’s hand and smiled at her in his first gesture of real emotion. That moment confirmed Razumikhin’s feelings of friendship and Pulkheria Alexandrovna’s love for her son. In that instance of real reconciliation with his sister, all Raskolnikov’s noble, humane qualities shone forth—yet his mother was afraid, though she didn’t know why.
A mother’s love and fears; Raskolnikov’s strange remove—Still, Raskolnikov’s mother kept these thoughts to herself. However, now she burst out in response to her son’s expressions of gratitude and his compassion for their anguish while he was missing. They had indeed been upset, and she rambled on and on about the details. Dunya noticed that her brother’s response was strangely removed and that his words seemed to come from duty rather than a real impulse.
Explaining the blood on his clothes; conjecture about Raskolnikov’s state of mind—Raskolnikov apologized for waiting there that morning instead of meeting them, one of the reasons being his clothing, which were still stained with blood. He explained to his shocked mother that the blood had gotten on his clothes when he helped carry the dying drunk man to his apartment. But before he got to that detail, he mentioned feeling lightheaded and not understanding why he did what he did or how he had even gotten there, though he remembered every detail. Zosimov related this to the dreamlike state in which the insane person behaves competently enough but cannot explain his motives. The doctor’s casual references to madness worried the others, but Raskolnikov recognized a certain convenience in them.
Raskolnikov confesses to his mother about the money—Raskolnikov then confessed to his mother that he had given all his money to the dead man’s widow, who was consumptive and had children to feed as well as funeral expenses. He was apologetic, feeling that he had no right to do such a thing, especially given his mother’s sacrifice. But his mother was all too ready to forgive and expressed her faith in his actions.
An uncomfortable visit—The whole visit was already uncomfortable enough, and Raskolnikov didn’t help matters when he replied that his mother shouldn’t trust so completely that he always did the right thing. That statement was followed by a silence, and it occurred to him that his mother and sister seemed afraid of him. Finally, Pulkheria Alexandrovna mentioned that Marfa Petrovna had died. She had to remind Rodya that Marfa Petrovna was the woman she had written about in her letter. She had died the same day the letter was sent, apparently of a stroke, after her husband had beaten her violently that morning. His mother’s detailed account of the event prompted Raskolnikov to ask why she was so fond of gossip and whether they were frightened of him. Pulkheria Alexandrovna evaded the question, but Dunya was more straightforward. She confirmed her brother’s perception, which disturbed their mother, who claimed she hadn’t known what to talk about and was just happy to see him.
Raskolnikov’s strange behavior—This statement was followed by increasingly strange behavior from Raskolnikov. First, he told his mother that there was no need to talk so much—they would have time enough. As soon as he said that, he paled and felt chills as he realized that it wasn’t true. Suddenly, he made for the door and was only stopped by Razumikhin. There was another uncomfortable silence until Raskolnikov got annoyed and urged everyone to talk. When Dunya asked him what was wrong, he just laughed and said he had remembered something. At that point, Zosimov excused himself and left. When Pulkheria Alexandrovna observed how a nice a man he was, Raskolnikov had a sudden burst of energy and started chattering about Zosimov. Laughing, he added how nice Razumikhin was, and he asked Dunya whether she liked him. That embarrassed Razumikhin, who also started to leave but was stopped by Raskolnikov.
Dunya’s watch; Raskolnikov’s late fiancée—Raskolnikov’s attention soon turned to Dunya’s expensive watch, which Razumikhin was now happy to learn was not from Luzhin but from Marfa Petrovna. Pulkheria Alexandrovna added that Dunya had so far received nothing from Luzhin.
Raskolnikov then brought up the subject of his late fiancée. He spoke of her sickliness and her plainness but also her generosity towards the poor and her deep wish to go into a convent. He knew that she was flawed on the surface, but he seemed to have a deeper, poignant attraction to her, though he didn’t word it that way. Finishing his description, he brushed it off as nothing more than spring fever, but Dunya quickly saw through this. When their mother asked whether Raskolnikov still loved the girl, he seemed to lose his train of thought momentarily (which he did often) but then replied that the incident was now no more than a dream to him. In fact, everything in life seemed remote to him, even sitting there talking to them.
Raskolnikov gives Dunya an ultimatum—There was another awkward silence, broken by Pulkheria Alexandrovna’s comment about her son’s depressing room and how it must have compounded his state. That brought another strange reaction from Raskolnikov, followed by another uncomfortable silence. Finally, he turned to his sister and issued her an ultimatum: he was adamantly against her marriage with Luzhin and would disown her if she went through with it. Dunya, who in the meantime had reflected on her brother’s resistance, explained that she was not sacrificing herself but marrying to ease the hardship of her own life. Helping her family was secondary. But Raskolnikov did not believe her. He silently figured that she was too proud to admit her desire to help him, and as he thought about this, the love he held for his family turned to hatred.
An argument between brother and sister—Dunya continued that she had a clear sense of her obligations and would fulfill them within reason—but then she noticed her brother laughing, and she became angry. Raskolnikov now burst out that he thought she was lying. He was convinced that she was selling herself. Dunya replied that she would not marry Luzhin without a firm belief that she could respect him and vice versa, and she intended to find this out that same day. At one point, she chided her brother for making unreasonable, unfair demands on her and judging her. After all, she hadn’t killed anyone.
Dunya had not meant anything in particular with her last statement, but at that moment, Raskolnikov turned pale and looked like he was about to faint. Everyone noticed, but Raskolnikov quickly recovered and denied it. He wanted to know exactly how his sister planned to reach the conviction that her fiancé respected her.
Raskolnikov gives his opinion on Luzhin’s letter—On that prompt, Dunya had their mother give Luzhin’s letter to Raskolnikov to read. This unexpected twist caused a sudden change in him. He declared that Dunya should marry whom she wanted, and for a while he just sat there, confused. Finally, he read the letter twice with great care, while his mother sat anxiously waiting. When he finished, his manner seemed calmer and more distant, but what he said next surprised everyone. Several things had struck him. The first was the way it was written, like a commercial document—pretentiously, but as though the writer was illiterate. Razumikhin said that that was just the legal style, and Dunya stood up for Luzhin, claiming that he was a self-made man and that he himself admitted to not being highly educated. But to Raskolnikov, Luzhin’s controlling nature was obvious, though he also pointed out that it was hard to be offended by such a poorly written document, even if it was written in the legal style. But there was another point. Luzhin statements about how and why Raskolnikov had given away his money to Marmeladov’s widow were untrue, and that amounted to slander.
Raskolnikov and Razumikhin agree to meet the ladies and Luzhin that evening—Pulkheria Alexandrovna wanted to know what her son intended to do now that he had read the letter. But Raskolnikov preferred to defer to his sister’s decision and agreed to be there at eight that evening. Razumikhin would be there, too, at Dunya’s request. And Pulkheria Alexandrovna herself was in agreement with the decision, since she preferred honesty to pretense. She was ready for whatever Luzhin would dish out.
Chapter 4
Sonya’s arrival—The conversation was interrupted by the sudden arrival of Sonya, whose stepmother had sent her to invite Raskolnikov to the funeral the next day, to be followed by refreshments. It took Raskolnikov a moment to recognize her, since she was dressed completely differently except for her parasol. Her clothing was poor and plain, and she had a childlike quality that made her look much younger than her eighteen years. Her pointy features were not even pretty, but there was a goodhearted simplicity about her as well as a brightness that shone through her face and especially her blue eyes. But right now, Sonya looked frightened and embarrassed, and she would have left, had Raskolnikov not detained her.
Raskolnikov introduces Sonya, who delivers her mother’s message—When Raskolnikov recognized Sonya, he, too, was momentarily embarrassed, and he regretted that he hadn’t cleared up her reputation with his mother and sister. Something about Sonya moved him deeply, and he
invited her to sit down. She felt uncomfortable sitting in the ladies’ presence, so she stood again, stuttered through her message, and then tried to leave. But Raskolnikov insisted that she stay for a few minutes: he wanted to talk to her. Now awkward and flushed but still with decision, he introduced Sonya by her full name: Sofya Semenovna Marmeladova. Raskolnikov’s mother scrutinized the girl in a less than friendly manner, while Dunya studied her with her usual fixity, though she was confused. Sonya herself was embarrassed and unsure, and for most of the interaction, she kept her eyes directed towards the ground.
Raskolnikov asks Sonya how things went at home—Raskolnikov wanted to know whether everything was all right with Sonya’s family and whether there had been any trouble. He specifically mentioned the police, but she answered that all was well except for the stinking corpse, which had gotten the neighbors complaining but which her mother finally agreed to have moved. Sonya repeated her mother's invitation to Raskolnikov, and still looking downward, she expressed her deep gratitude for his gift. He was surprised that her mother could manage to pay for both the funeral and a dinner afterwards, but Sonya explained that they had planned carefully and kept things simple.
Sonya’s grateful outburst wins the compassion of Raskolnikov’s mother and sister—Raskolnikov noticed Sonya looking around at his poverty-stricken surroundings, and when he asked why, she could not contain herself and whispered vehemently that he had given them all he had. Afterwards, she sat trembling and silent, again looking down. That moment produced a change of heart in both Pulkheria Alexandrovna and Dunya. The two ladies then excused themselves with a parting invitation to both Raskolnikov and Razumikhin to join them for dinner. On leaving, Pulkheria Alexandrovna could not bring herself to bow or say goodbye to Sonya, but Dunya bowed deeply and respectfully. Confused and uncomfortable, Sonya did her best to reciprocate with a short bow of her own. Dunya’s action must have touched her brother, because he insisted on taking her hand once more to express his affection, to the point that she was even embarrassed but happy.
Pulkheria Alexandrovna’s premonition; Dunya’s new opinion of Luzhin—Contrary to her original expectations, Pulkheria Alexandrovna was relieved to get away. Dunya mentioned that her brother still seemed unwell and that they should be patient, but her mother observed that Dunya herself had hardly shown patience towards her brother and, moreover, how alike they were in temperament. She was concerned about the meeting with Luzhin that evening and how it would impact their fortunes, but Dunya herself was prepared to let things take their course, and her opinion of Luzhin seemed to have dropped several notches. Pulkheria Alexandrovna then confided that she had had an immediate premonition about Sonya, and she was worried. She was sure that there was more there than was obvious and that it was important, too. Her suspicion was confirmed when Rodya introduced Sonya to them, but Pulkheria Alexandrovna could not understand her son’s apparent interest in the girl after what Luzhin had written in his letter. Dunya was used to her mother’s premonitions and brushed it off. She also reminded her mother that people had gossiped unfairly about them, too. Besides, to her it was clear: her fiancé’s stories about Sonya and Rodya were nothing but spiteful tales.
Raskolnikov and Razumikhin decide to visit Porfiry Petrovich to retrieve the pledges—
Raskolnikov’s happiness on seeing Sonya became even more obvious after his mother and sister left, which was surprising to her. She tried to leave again, but he kept her back. He needed to speak to Razumikhin but would get back to her, and even though he pulled Razumikhin over to the window, he made it clear that there were no secrets between any of them. Raskolnikov had learned that Razumikhin’s relative, Porfiry Petrovich, was heading the murder investigation, and he was interested in getting back the two pledges he had left with the old woman. The watch was all the family had left of their late father’s memory, and the ring was a gift from Dunya. He was concerned that his mother would ask about them, so he wanted to see Porfiry as soon as possible. Razumikhin was excited. Porfiry had been wanting to meet Raskolnikov, and they decided to leave immediately. Raskolnikov would visit Sonya later at her home, and there was another awkward moment as he reintroduced her to good friend Razumikhin and then got her address. She had to remind him that she already had his from Polenka, who had gotten it the day before.
Sonya is followed by a stranger all the way home—Sonya was relieved to finally be by herself again, but she knew that something unusual had just happened and was stirring up new feelings within her. As she was mulling over the day’s events on her way home, Sonya failed to notice that a man had been following her ever since she parted from Raskolnikov and Razumikhin at the building’s entrance gate. The man had heard her mention Raskolnikov’s name in conjunction with where he lived, and he had observed them and the building carefully while laying low. He also recognized Sonya but couldn’t place her, so he decided to follow her home. Dostoevsky describes him in some detail: a gentleman, roughly fifty, though he looked younger and had a freshness that marked him as being from outside the city. He was tall, broad, and fair, with elegant, newly clean, comfortable clothes and a cane to match. His eyes are described as being blue, observant, and “cold,” and the closer Sonya got to her home, the closer he followed behind her. When they finally arrived at the building, he was surprised to recognize it. In fact, they were next-door neighbors, and she finally took note of him as he followed her up the stairs. As they were opening their respective doors, he cheerfully commented on the coincidence. He had only been there two days and had just had something mended by the tailor whose name was on the sign above her apartment door. Sonya said nothing.
Raskolnikov is disturbed at what he hears about Porfiry—Meanwhile, Razumikhin and Raskolnikov were heading over to Porfiry’s, and Razumikhin was excited and happy about this latest development with the pledges, apparently because it cleared up why Raskolnikov had been talking about rings and other things while he was still feverish. Raskolnikov realized from Razumikhin’s happiness that his friend would do anything for him, but at the same time, he viewed his trusting simplicity and excitement with disdain. Worse, he was disturbed to discover that Porfiry, who had taken over the case, was a master detective, able to solve what others couldn’t. Given that bit of information as well as Zametov’s and Razumikhin’s tendency to babble, Raskolnikov realized that he would have to come up with some clever guise to cover the truth, and he would have to do it as naturally as possible. It didn’t help that his heart was pounding. To Razumikhin, however, he pretended boredom with the topic while he simultaneously planned how to extract whether Porfiry knew about his visit to Alena Ivanovna’s apartment after the murder.
A diversionary tactic—As they came to Porfiry’s building, Raskolnikov suddenly changed the subject. He had noticed Razumikhin’s fidgety, embarrassed behavior throughout the day, and now he teased him mercilessly about it. Razumikhin denied it, but Raskolnikov knew exactly what was going on. He called Razumikhin “Romeo” and observed that he had turned especially red when invited to dinner by his mother and sister. His friend’s unusually neat appearance hadn’t escaped Raskolnikov, either. By now, he was laughing as Razumikhin threatened to wallop him if he mentioned anything in front of Porfiry. Raskolnikov knew what he was doing. The laughter and teasing was the perfect diversion as they entered Porfiry’s apartment.
Chapter 5
Porfiry Petrovich—Raskolnikov’s ploy for creating a diversion worked. Razumikhin’s anger and embarrassment made him look awkward and funny, so it was easy for Raskolnikov to alternate between suppressing his mirth and bursting out with laughter. He even knocked over a tea glass and small table to make it more convincing. It was in this state that he shook Porfiry’s hand, though he couldn’t yet speak for all his laughing. Fortunately, Porfiry Petrovich had a sense of humor, and his warning to avoid damaging government property was coupled with his amusement at the scene.
Razumikhin recovers his composure; Zametov’s presence—Raskolnikov was troubled to suddenly notice Zametov standing to the side, smiling but perplexed, and he made a mental note that he would have to factor in this unexpected development. Meanwhile, Razumikhin had recovered enough from his silent fuming to speak. Raskolnikov had explained to Porfiry that he had teased Razumikhin about being a “Romeo,” and Porfiry had commented that he must have a reason for such a strong reaction. That detective-like observation snapped Razumikhin into a better mood and brought him into the conversation. He was glad to see that Porfiry and Zametov had met, since Zametov had been pressuring him for an introduction. Hearing this, Raskolnikov made another mental note that their acquaintance must be brand new.
Porfiry Petrovich—Porfiry was in his mid-thirties, with a short, thickset, roundish form that contrasted with the watery but concentrated look in his eyes and his amused expression. His skin was dark but with an unwholesome yellowish tint, another of the many references to yellow, usually in conjunction with sickliness or madness.
Down to business—Porfiry wasted no time getting down to business as soon as Raskolnikov mentioned his motive for being there, and he seemed unusually attentive for such a small thing. Following Raskolnikov’s quick explanation about wanting to get back his pledge items, Porfiry recommended that he go to the police with his statement. He seemed uninterested in Raskolnikov’s money issues, though he gave him the option to hand in a written statement to him instead. Nor was it necessary to have stamped paper. These statements by Porfiry were in response to Raskolnikov’s concerns, but at one point Raskolnikov thought that Porfiry winked at him (a habit of his), and he had a sudden intuition that this man knew his secret.
Porfiry’s questions and Razumikhin’s frankness make Raskolnikov nervous—Razumikhin was no help. Throughout the conversation he had been glancing back and forth at Raskolnikov and Porfiry, causing Raskolnikov to view him with scorn. Now, as Raskolnikov was trying to explain his fear of losing his pledge items, Razumikhin suddenly interrupted to confirm that he had practically leapt up at the mention of Porfiry’s interrogation of the murder victim’s former customers. Raskolnikov responded with anger but managed to restrain himself, explaining that his real concern was that his mother and sister should not find out. Porfiry latched onto that bit of information: so his family was in town? He wanted to know when they had arrived, and then after some thought told Raskolnikov he had been expecting his arrival and that his pledges were certainly not lost. This surprised Razumikhin, who had not realized which pawnbroker Raskolnikov had been seeing. Porfiry explained to Raskolnikov that his things had been found at Alena Ivanovna’s and that they were clearly marked and dated. Raskolnikov, who was getting increasingly nervous, started to chatter about how observant Porfiry was to remember his name out of all the other customers; but Porfiry countered that of all the pledge owners, Raskolnikov was the only who hadn’t shown until now. He knew, though, that Raskolnikov had been sick, adding that he still looked pale. Unable to control his seething anger, Raskolnikov insisted that he was fine, while Razumikhin described his friend’s original statement about being sick as a major understatement. Not only had he been ill but delirious as well and had even sneaked out of his apartment in this state while no one was there. This interested Porfiry, who asked to hear more.
Infuriated, Raskolnikov protested that Razumikhin was wrong and that Porfiry should ignore him. Porfiry, however, seemed to be ignoring Raskolnikov, who wasn’t making sense. Lack of sense had been the problem before, too, according to Razumikhin, and from that he deduced that Raskolnikov had to have been delirious when he snuck out of his apartment and later gave away all of his money. But Raskolnikov kept trying to create a sensible scenario out of the facts, even drawing in Zametov for support. Zametov, who had kept silent, agreed that Raskolnikov’s behavior was sensible, but his aggravated mood was not.
That was the problem now, too. The more they argued, the more Raskolnikov lost his temper and was unable to keep up his pretense, even slipping bits of information, like having a hidden treasure. By now, Porfiry, who was taking a great interest in Raskolnikov’s words and behavior, had left to order tea. As they all waited for him to return, Raskolnikov’s head was filled with a series of mad thoughts. He was in a state of rage, confusion, and terror as he tried to decipher the words and tone of the others, and he was shaking and having a hard time breathing.
A philosophical discussion about crime—As Raskolnikov was trying to figure out how much the others did or did not know, Porfiry returned. His expression was good-humored as he brought up the subject of Razumikhin’s party the day before. Razumikhin had left in the middle of an interesting argument and wanted to know the outcome as well as Raskolnikov’s opinion. The subject? Crime. According to Razumikhin, the conversation began with the Socialists’ point of view that crime, being the product of poor social structures, would be eradicated when those structures were reorganized. Porfiry protested that this assessment was not entirely true, and Raskolnikov seemed uninterested in the ordinary nature of the topic. But Razumikhin had grown more and more excited, and he continued his argument. The problem with the Socialist view was that it ignored nature, history, and the “living soul,” as though human beings could be transformed by mathematical calculations alone. Life was too unpredictable—there were too many possibilities. No amount of simplistic logic, communal living structures, or provisions for comfort could contain the evolution of life and mankind in small, unthinking boxes.
Porfiry’s tricks—Porfiry was amused by Razumikhin’s heated presentation, and he pointed out to Raskolnikov that there were six of these arguments going on simultaneously at the party, with everyone drunk. However, returning to the argument, in Porfiry’s view, environment was in fact an important consideration when dealing with crime. But Razumikhin was sure that Porfiry was playing the devil’s advocate, and that only made him more heated. He explained to Raskolnikov that Porfiry was capable of fooling people for weeks and even months about his real opinion or intentions. Porfiry even admitted it and claimed that he would fool Raskolnikov, too.
Porfiry questions Raskolnikov about his article on crime—On a related note, their conversation reminded him of an article by Raskolnikov he had read two months earlier on the subject of crime. Raskolnikov had written it six months ago, while still a student, and though he had sent it to one magazine, he hadn’t realized that it had been published in another magazine after the first one folded. This and Raskolnikov’s general lack of concern with everyday matters seemed strange to Porfiry, especially since Raskolnikov could collect payment for his article. Raskolnikov wanted to know how Porfiry found out that he wrote it, since he had only initialed the article, and he learned that it was through Porfiry’s connection to the editor, whom he knew personally.
Raskolnikov’s article had been about the criminal’s unhealthy state of mind during the crime, but what interested Porfiry most was Raskolnikov’s opinion that there were two types of people—ordinary and extraordinary—and that the extraordinary had the right to break the law. But Porfiry’s presentation of the idea was incomplete and therefore a bit twisted, perhaps to entrap Raskolnikov, so Raskolnikov explained that the condition was that the crime should serve a good purpose. That was, after all, how all breakthroughs were achieved—by going beyond the current structures. He was not advocating a state of general lawlessness, but he did state that extraordinary individuals had the right even to kill if it benefited mankind. Citing leaders like Napoleon, he noted that throughout history, many extraordinary individuals had been criminals and even bloodthirsty by nature, often leaving death in their wake to achieve their ends. But this was balanced by the ordinary masses, whose nature and purpose, in addition to procreation, was to follow and perpetuate the established laws. These people would often fight against and sometimes kill the rule breakers, which also served to strengthen the new idea. These two patterns, the conservative and the breakthrough, ran throughout society to varying degrees, depending on the individual; and both patterns were equally necessary and valid, at least until the coming of the “New Jerusalem,” meaning the perfect state of existence as described in the Book of Revelation in the Bible.
Porfiry’s questions to Raskolnikov—Raskolnikov’s ending comment about the New Jerusalem seemed surprising to Porfiry, and he wanted to know if Raskolnikov believed in the New Jerusalem, God, and the raising of Lazarus, to which Raskolnikov answered “yes” in every case. Porfiry also wanted to know if there were specific ways to recognize the extraordinary versus ordinary individuals and whether one type ever confused himself for the other. Again, the answer was “yes,” but only the ordinary ever made that mistake, and they usually punished themselves in some way if they stepped across a line. Porfiry was still concerned about the threat posed by the extraordinary lawbreakers, but Raskolnikov assured him that their numbers were extremely limited, and true genius appeared only rarely. Furthermore, the commission of a crime, however justified, was often punishment enough for people of such depth; yet he encouraged Porfiry to seek out his criminal and even stated that he would deserve whatever punishment he received.
Strange observations—Razumikhin, who was troubled by the conversation, could not believe that the argument his friends were having was serious. He was sure there had been an exaggeration, and he wanted to verify this by reading the article; but Raskolnikov informed him that much of the information gleaned from the discussion was not even in the article. Another odd element of the interaction was Raskolnikov’s sudden calmness, especially in contrast to Porfiry’s overly curious, even rude and sometimes mocking behavior. Zametov was also acting strangely: he had been watching silently most of time, and Raskolnikov felt that Porfiry and Zametov were trying to ensnare him.
Raskolnikov’s need for caution—His fears had some basis, too. Zametov and Porfiry claimed to have just met, but that was not Raskolnikov’s impression. Towards the end of the conversation, Porfiry wanted to know whether Raskolnikov had any pretensions to being among the extraordinary individuals with a right to commit crimes. Raskolnikov admitted to some small thoughts of that kind but did not profess to be in the same league as someone like Napoleon. By now, the conversation was slowly turning to the recent axe murder, and Raskolnikov’s attitude changed from calm and modest to angry and scornful. It was time for him to go. Porfiry, on the other hand, had been excited to finally meet him, and he encouraged Raskolnikov to return the next day to take care of his business request.
Porfiry’s trick question—Then, for no clear reason, Porfiry started talking about the painters Nikolay and Mitrey, and he asked Raskolnikov what he had seen the day they were in Alena Ivanovna’s building. He even pinpointed the exact time Raskolnikov was there. As soon as Raskolnikov admitted to having been there at the time, he was suddenly unsure as to whether he had mentioned it previously, though he did not remember seeing any painters that day. But he did describe the movers taking out a couch, which definitely marked him as being there. It was Razumikhin who caught the inconsistency—hadn’t Raskolnikov been there three days earlier rather than the day mentioned? Porfiry pretended momentary confusion, but his real intentions were all too clear to Raskolnikov, and both he and Razumikhin left in an unhappy mood.
Chapter 6
Analyzing Porfiry and Zametov’s motives—The conversation left Razumikhin and Raskolnikov unhappy, but it at least got them talking about the murder for the first time, which made Razumikhin excitable and Raskolnikov disgusted. Razumikhin could not understand why the other two would be so open about it if they suspected Raskolnikov. But Raskolnikov believed that Porfiry was either digging for facts or using scare tactics, since he had nothing to go on.
Razumikhin’s confusion—Razumikhin was furious that the others could even think that Raskolnikov had murdered anyone. Their suspicions were mainly based on Raskolnikov’s fainting spell at the police station, even though there were many other logical causes for his weakness. When Razumikhin said that they could all go to hell, Raskolnikov reminded him that Porfiry’s interrogations weren’t yet over and that his own behavior with Zametov at the bar hadn’t helped his case. He also silently thought to himself that Porfiry had done a good job summing things up.
Razumikhin was ready to deal with Zametov and Porfiry himself, but in his view, Raskolnikov couldn’t be guilty, or he would not have admitted seeing the painters on the second floor around the time of the murder. But Raskolnikov argued that a guilty person would be sure to include all relevant details, though giving them a different context. Now laughing, he was aware of the irony of his statements and his mood change, and he noted mentally that once again he hadn’t guarded himself sufficiently.
Raskolnikov checks his room for evidence—Raskolnikov also had a sudden fear that he had left some small piece of incriminating evidence in the crack in the wall of his room, so on arriving at Bakaleev’s, he insisted that Razumikhin go up without him while he attended to some business. Back in his room, he found nothing, so with the panic over, he headed out again, only to find himself confronted at the gate by the porter and an unfriendly little man.
The accusation—The man, who appeared to be over fifty and had a sullen expression, looked like a foreman or tradesman. He did not try to conceal his disapproval of Raskolnikov but said nothing, and after examining him, simply left. When the porter was unable to add any information, Raskolnikov followed the man and asked him himself. Only after several questions followed by silence did the man finally utter a single grim word that sent Raskolnikov into a new panic: murderer. After another silence, Raskolnikov mumbled his question about who the murderer was. The stranger repeated his accusation, and his smile betrayed both hatred and triumph.
Raskolnikov returns to his room—Terrified and weak, Raskolnikov returned to his room and lay down on his couch. Confused images from his past whirled through his head, as he experienced conflicting feelings of vague panic and pleasure. By now, the half hour time frame he had promised Razumikhin had elapsed, and Razumikhin himself appeared in the doorway, with Nastasya in the background advising him to let Raskolnikov sleep.
Mental mayhem—Half an hour later, Raskolnikov still lay on his couch and was now trying to figure out who the man was and how he could know his secret. Confused thoughts poured through his mind. He chided himself for his lack of foresight in murdering the old woman, then realized that he had foreseen the outcome after all. What he lacked was the brazen strength of a genuine leader, the type of person who could break rules, kill and plunder, and later be honored for it. His own escapade seemed trivial by comparison, and the old woman herself became a symbol of his diseased state—a principle rather than a person. By making her into an abstraction in his own mind, he justified his behavior. But he was dissatisfied that he had only killed without transcending the “barriers.” His original intention had been noble enough—to do what he could to help his mother. But he figured he had only one life and that he needed to make his mark. He did not want to wait, like the Socialists, for the larger movement to take its course in creating the common good. He laughed hysterically at the irony of his own vileness, worse than the old “witch” he had killed. And he believed he understood the Prophet, who decimated whomever stood in Allah’s way, good or bad—those who, after all, had no right to decide their own fate.
Emotional mayhem—Raskolnikov’s emotions were equally confused. He could not understand his feelings of hatred for his mother and sister, whom he had always loved. He hated the old woman, Alena Ivanovna, more than ever, but he felt compassion for such gentle creatures as Lizaveta and Sonya, who bore their burdens without complaint—something he could not understand.
A terrifying dream—Raskolnikov soon dozed off and dreamt that he was outside on the street. Out there, in the heat, among the crowds and under the full moon, he noticed the same stranger beckoning to him, and as the man walked away, Raskolnikov followed him. From a distance, the stranger led Raskolnikov into a courtyard and up the stairs of a building that he recognized as the site of the murder. Terrified but curious, he went all the way up to the old woman’s apartment, now empty and flooded with moonlight in the darkness. He noticed a robe hanging on the wall, and behind the robe, he found the old woman herself sitting on a chair; and taking the axe from the coat loop, he struck her multiple times. When she didn’t react, he stooped down to look into her face and saw that she was laughing soundlessly. He started frantically striking her with the axe, but she only continued with her silent laughter, and at the same time, the whole building filled with people, all laughing and whispering.
A terrifying reality—Just as Raskolnikov’s terror grew to a feverish pitch, he woke up. But though the dream was over, it seemed to continue. A stranger stood in the doorway, staring at him. Raskolnikov had to collect his thoughts to figure out whether he was still dreaming but soon realized he wasn’t. The stranger entered, sat down, leaned on his cane, and continued staring at Raskolnikov. Realizing that he wasn’t going away, Raskolnikov finally asked him his purpose. And with that, the man introduced himself as Svidrigaylov.
Part IV
Chapter 1
An unexpected visitor—Raskolnikov wasn’t sure whether he was dreaming at first, but when he expressed doubt about Svidrigaylov’s identity, Svidrigaylov assured him that he was who he claimed to be. He had been interested in meeting Raskolnikov for some time, and he also wanted to solicit his help with something regarding his sister. Raskolnikov was not encouraging, so Svidrigaylov explained that, being only human, he had fallen in love with Dunya (Avdotya Romanovna to him) and had been trying to create a mutually happy situation. He did not see himself as an ogre or villain but as a victim of natural human urges.
Svidrigaylov’s take on events—Raskolnikov didn’t bother mincing words: his sister and mother considered Svidrigaylov repulsive and wanted nothing to do with him. Svidrigaylov, whose manner was open and amiable, was impressed by Raskolnikov’s directness and even laughed about it. But Raskolnikov did not share his amusement—hadn’t he caused his own wife’s death? Svidrigaylov wasn’t proud of his overall behavior, but he didn’t think so. The autopsy had determined the cause to be stroke resulting from too much drinking and eating too soon before bathing. The light whipping he had given her with a riding crop hadn’t even left a scratch. And as for mental distress, he believed that people—women, especially—enjoyed confrontation, and Marfa Petrovna may even have seen it as a show of passion. Personally, he didn’t enjoy fighting, and their life together had been generally peaceful and uneventful, with only two whippings to speak of. The incident with Dunya being over, it was likely that Marfa Petrovna was bored.
Raskolnikov tries to decipher his guest’s motives—Raskolnikov was surprised by Svidrigaylov’s pleasant, well-bred manner, though his guest also struck him as a man who had made a firm decision and was not easily influenced by others. He concluded that he must either have an ulterior motive or be starved for company. Svidrigaylov admitted that he was bored with the people he knew. In his three days in St. Petersburg, he had not bothered spending much time with them.
A lot of rambling and bit of background—Throughout the conversation, Raskolnikov asked direct questions and made pointed comments, and though Svidrigaylov responded to some of them, he ignored others while rambling on and on about whatever came to his mind. In this way, he would sometimes touch only quickly on some subjects despite Raskolnikov’s attempts to follow up. So he jumped from the atmosphere of a clearly changing St. Petersburg to his sole belief in anatomy (which got Raskolnikov’s attention) to his utter lack of interest in everything else, including modern political discussions and his former life as a card shark. That had happened in St. Petersburg eight years earlier, when he had whiled away the time with princes, poets, and other cultured men. But that pastime had gotten him into debt for 70,000 rubles, and it was only through Marfa Petrovna, who loved him and bought his freedom for 30,000 rubles, that he escaped jail. They then married and moved to the country, where they spent seven years together. She was five years his senior and had the advantage of a signed document that she could throw in his face, should he ever try to leave. But in general, he didn’t feel constrained by her—just bored with life and unable to come up with anything that would change that. Even Marfa Petrovna had seen that and suggested some time overseas, but the idea didn’t excite him.
Raskolnikov tries to decipher Svidrigaylov’s motives—Raskolnikov wondered again what ulterior motive was hiding behind Svidrigaylov’s ramblings. Economically, he was set: he said himself that his business had not been affected by the abolition of serfdom, and Marta Petrovna had also given him a sizable amount of money, along with transferring the legal document to him as a sign of trust.
Talk of ghosts and the afterlife—Raskolnikov asked Svidrigaylov whether he missed Marfa Petrovna, which prompted Svidrigaylov to tell him that he had seen her ghost three times. Somehow that didn’t surprise Raskolnikov, to which Svidrigaylov replied that he sensed that he Raskolnikov had something in common. That was too much for Raskolnikov, who flatly denied it. After a pause in the conversation, he asked Svidrigaylov what Marfa Petrovna had said. But Svidrigaylov explained that it was all trivia, although he regretted not letting her read his fortune when she appeared to him at the train station and offered to do so. He added that he had seen a ghost one time before, when his servant appeared to him shortly after his death. Raskolnikov’s opinion was that he should have himself examined by a doctor, and Svidrigaylov agreed that only sick people saw ghosts. He also knew that there was something the matter with him, but he still believed himself to be much healthier than Raskolnikov, who had a strangeness about him that Svidrigaylov couldn’t pinpoint.
Raskolnikov was convinced that ghosts didn’t exist, so Svidrigaylov explained his viewpoint that the reason only the sick could see them was because they were already partly connected to the afterlife, whereas a healthy man was fully present in this world. Raskolnikov did not believe in the afterlife, either, which prompted Svidrigaylov to share his grim idea of the world beyond as potentially nothing more than a soot-covered one-room country bathhouse, complete with spiders. This was a horrifying notion to Raskolnikov, who preferred to think of it as something more soothing and honorable.
Svidrigaylov’s offer—The topic of conversation was proof to Svidrigaylov that they were indeed similar souls, but Raskolnikov had had enough. He wanted Svidrigaylov to get to the point of his visit, since he needed to go out anyway. Svidrigaylov explained that he did not consider Luzhin a good match for Raskolnikov’s sister and that the marriage might even hurt her. Contrary to what Raskolnikov believed, his own motives were not selfish, though he admitted to his imperfections. He no longer had any feelings for Dunya, and since he and his family were well provided for, his only intention at this point was to warn her about her impending marriage and give her 10,000 rubles so that she could free herself from the situation without having to worry about her own and her family’s welfare. He knew, after all, that it was her nature to sacrifice herself. His discovery that Marfa Petrovna had arranged the marriage had been the cause of a fight between them, and this was now his way of doing something good for Dunya. He had no hidden designs.
Raskolnikov considered his guest both impudent and insane, but Svidrigaylov was firm in his intention: if Raskolnikov wouldn’t help him and at least deliver the message, he would seek out Dunya himself. Raskolnikov wanted to know whether he would stay away from her if he did deliver the message, but Svidrigaylov would make no promises: he wanted to see Avdotya Romanovna just once and hopefully get to know Raskolnikov better, too. When he saw him coincidentally that morning, he had at once felt a kinship. Raskolnikov was not encouraging on either count. He only wanted to know when Svidrigaylov was going on the trip he mentioned earlier. But Svidrigaylov confessed that it might not be happening—he might be getting married to another lady here in St. Petersburg instead.
A final boon—Having concluded that Raskolnikov would not be helping him, Svidrigaylov took his leave and on the way out remembered to add that Marfa Petrovna had left Dunya 3000 rubles, which would be available to her in a few weeks. Raskolnikov didn’t believe him at first, but Svidrigaylov confirmed it and then headed out just as Razumikhin was coming in.
Chapter 2
Exchanging impressions while rushing to the meeting—By the time Svidrigaylov left, it was already almost 8 p.m., so Raskolnikov and Razumikhin had to hurry to beat Luzhin to the meeting with Pulkheria Alexandrovna and Dunya. Raskolnikov was relieved to hear that Razumikhin had actually seen Svidrigaylov on the way out, since he was beginning to wonder if he weren’t mad after all and had seen only an apparition. But he was also afraid of Svidrigaylov and insisted that they protect Dunya from him.
The conversation had several lulls because of Raskolnikov’s inability to be completely forthcoming, so Razumikhin told him about his encounter with Porfiry, which in the end he felt only made things worse. He finally decided to leave Porfiry’s, and on the way out, it occurred to him that if Raskolnikov were innocent—and he firmly believed he was—there was nothing to worry about. Raskolnikov wondered silently how Razumikhin would take the truth, and it was in this state that they encountered Luzhin in the hallway of Bakaleev’s building, though they refused to acknowledge each other and decided to enter the ladies’ apartment separately. Luzhin had even had thoughts of bowing out, but he instead decided to stay and settle things.
News of Svidrigaylov—Once the group had settled around the table and gotten through the initial uncomfortable silence and required small talk, Pulkheria Alexandrovna broached the subject of Marfa Petrovna’s death. Luzhin had heard about it and had word that Svidrigaylov had immediately left for St. Petersburg, though he didn’t yet know the reason. This news drew an alarmed reaction from both ladies. Luzhin’s opinion of Svidrigaylov was that he was woefully depraved, and he, too, was wary of him and determined to find out all he could as soon as possible. He even had cause to believe that Svidrigaylov had committed a vicious murder at one point but that he succeeded in covering it up with Marfa Petrovna’s help. It was Marfa Petrovna herself who had told him secretly about Svidrigaylov’s former relations with a German woman, a moneylender named Resslich, who supposedly had abused a deaf-mute live-in teenage relative of hers. One day, the girl was discovered hanged, and though it was said to be a suicide, there were rumors that Svidrigaylov had also brutalized her. Luzhin added that there were similar stories surrounding a servant named Philip, but when he asked Dunya, she could not confirm them. She had heard that Philip had hanged himself, largely because he was an outsider among the other servants, who made fun of him for his philosophizing. The servants themselves believed that Svidrigaylov had caused Philip’s death, despite the good master-servant relationship that was generally in place by the time Dunya arrived. Luzhin took Dunya’s statement to mean that she was making excuses for Svidrigaylov, whom he saw as a ladies’ man. His own prognosis for Svidrigaylov was poor—that Marfa Petrovna probably left him little and that he would no doubt squander it and soon land back in debtors’ prison. Luzhin’s own intentions were merely to be helpful to the ladies.
Raskolnikov tells of Svidrigaylov’s visit—Raskolnikov had been listening with interest to all of this, and now he finally informed them that Svidrigaylov had visited him and that he had an offer to make Dunya. He told them a few things about the visit but preferred to discuss the details of the offer in private, though he did mention the 3000 rubles that Marfa Petrovna left to Dunya. Raskolnikov’s general statement created a stir of both excitement and alarm, and Luzhin immediately confirmed Marfa Petrovna’s bequest as being true.
Luzhin’s pride and bitterness; Dunya’s insistence on reconciliation—Raskolnikov’s refusal to discuss the details of Svidrigaylov’s offer prompted Luzhin to excuse himself. Dunya encouraged him to stay, especially since he, too, had things he wanted to discuss with her mother, but he refused to do so with Raskolnikov present. Raskolnikov had offended him, and he did not feel that they could be reconciled, even though it was Dunya’s express wish, since she would otherwise have to choose between them. She had insisted on this meeting so that she could assess whom she was dealing with and who truly valued her. She made it clear to Luzhin that he had an honored place in her life, but for Luzhin, that was not enough: he demanded first place, above and beyond her family and especially her brother, whom he couldn’t abide.
Luzhin questions Pulkheria Alexandrovna’s attitude—Things got more and more heated until Luzhin finally broke down and discussed what he had been reluctant to broach earlier. It had to do with Pulkheria Alexandrovna’s statements about him in her letter to her son—or perhaps Raskolnikov had misrepresented them. He felt offended at her opinion of his motives for marrying Dunya and wanted an assurance that she did not regard him as wishing to take advantage of a poor girl. Pulkheria Alexandrovna could not remember exactly what she had written, nor did she know what Rodya had said. But both she and Dunya emphasized that the proof of their good opinion of Luzhin lay in the simple fact that they were there.
Raskolnikov points out Luzhin’s defamatory statements—The attention now turned to Luzhin’s own lack of integrity. Pulkheria Alexandrovna was distressed that he kept blaming Rodya for everything, and Raskolnikov himself now cut in, informing Luzhin of the untruth of his statements about him. Luzhin had completely misrepresented Raskolnikov’s actions at Marmeladov’s, when he gave the money to Katerina Ivanovna, not to Sonya, as Luzhin stated. Luzhin had also defamed Sonya’s character without even knowing her. In Raskolnikov’s opinion, Sonya was worth far more than Luzhin.
Luzhin warns Dunya, who orders him to leave for good—By now, the atmosphere had grown extremely uncomfortable, and Luzhin was already on his way out the door. He warned Dunya that if he left now, he would not return. To his surprise, Dunya informed him that she did not want him to come back. She had been clear and forthright throughout the conversation, and now she was practically commanding him to go—something he wasn’t used to and resented. To the ladies, it seemed increasingly evident that Luzhin wanted to control them after all and that his main tool for that was money. Now that he was losing control—in his mind, in part because of Marfa Petrovna’s gift—his “investment” no longer seemed worth it. His attitudes were an affront to the dignity and humanity of Dunya and her family, and Luzhin made Raskolnikov so livid that the latter practically threw him out. But as unceremonious as Luzhin’s exit was, he still harbored the belief that he could regain his power over Dunya and her mother.
Chapter 3
Luzhin’s private reaction—One of Luzhin’s arguments for the virtuousness of his own behavior was that he had taken Dunya as his fiancée in spite of her previously bad reputation. What he neglected to add was that her reputation had been cleared up by then. His twisted presentation of the facts was his attempt to maintain control, but mixed in with his worldly ambitions and need for power were genuine feelings of love and admiration for Dunya. Her definite dismissal had therefore left him shocked and disappointed, though also determined to repair things as quickly as possible. But his decision to fix things did not include Raskolnikov or Razumikhin: Raskolnikov was to blame for everything and needed to be eliminated, while Razumikhin was slightly in the way but seemed inconsequential. The more troubling problem was Svidrigaylov, and that issue would not be so easy to resolve.
Back in the ladies’ apartment—Meanwhile, Dunya was apologizing to her mother for her lack of insight and asking her brother not to judge her too much for her mistake. The general mood in the room, though happy and relieved, was mixed as each person tried to absorb what had just happened. Raskolnikov seemed oddly distant and morose; Razumikhin was secretly ecstatic; Dunya was relieved but also troubled and confused; and Pulkheria Alexandrovna, who felt they had been saved by God, was confused by her children’s reactions.
Raskolnikov relays some of his meeting with Svidrigaylov—With Luzhin gone, Dunya asked about Svidrigaylov’s offer. Raskolnikov, who did not feel like talking, relayed only the most necessary facts without mentioning the apparitions. He did mention Svidrigaylov’s insistence on seeing Dunya, whether Raskolnikov agreed to help him or not. Raskolnikov added that although Svidrigaylov wanted to dissuade Dunya from marrying Luzhin, he claimed to no longer have any feelings of love for her. But overall, Raskolnikov found Svidrigaylov confusing and confused, perhaps even insane. He constantly contradicted himself, and his motives were unclear, though it seemed that Marfa Petrovna’s death had had an impact.
The group’s reactions to the new situation—The mention of Marfa Petrovna reminded Pulkheria Alexandrovna of her gratitude for how they had been rescued from their severe poverty. In contrast, Dunya’s reaction to Svidrigaylov’s offer was troubled and fearful. Seeing that, Raskolnikov confessed that he had a sense of destiny about his interaction with Svidrigaylov, while Razumikhin—whose heart had been secretly overflowing with the desire to devote himself wholeheartedly to the two ladies—pledged to watch out for Dunya with her permission, which she gratefully gave.
Razumikhin’s idea—Razumikhin also had another idea, which he now set forth with enthusiasm. He had a retired uncle who had been wanting to loan him 1000 rubles. Together with another 1000 rubles from the 3000 bequeathed by Marfa Petrovna, they could all start a translation and publishing business together. He had the publishing experience, and both he and Rodya had the language skills to pull it off. They could then all live together in a furnished apartment that happened to be available in the same building.
Raskolnikov’s sudden departure—Dunya thought it was an excellent idea, as did Raskolnikov, so it was strange when Raskolnikov suddenly got up to leave and refused to be talked out of it. Even stranger was his manner when asked about his sudden desire to leave. He explained that he needed time alone, that he was not well. He loved his mother and sister but would soon hate them if they insisted on his staying. And though he promised to return, he contradicted that same promise, uncertain that it would actually happen.
A final message and farewell between friends—Raskolnikov finally managed to extract himself, to his mother and sister’s dismay. Dunya proclaimed him heartless, but Razumikhin informed her with great vehemence that it was not her brother’s heart but his mind that was gone. He then followed his friend into the hall to talk him out of it, but Raskolnikov had anticipated him and was waiting. The questions poured out of Razumikhin, but Raskolnikov told him not to ask any more—that he couldn’t answer them; and the prolonged look that passed between them after that told Razumikhin everything he needed to know and left him with a sense of horror and dread.
Razumikhin’s devotion—After exhorting Razumikhin to return to the two women, Raskolnikov left. And Razumikhin, having no other choice, took his friend’s advice and went back to comfort and care for Dunya and Pulkheria Alexandrovna. He explained to them that Rodya was ill, and he vowed that he would get him the best doctor available.
Chapter 4
Raskolnikov goes to see Sonya—Raskolnikov immediately went to see Sonya for what was the first and, in his mind, possibly the last time. It was already 11 p.m. and dark when he arrived in her hallway, so it was with some fearfulness that she opened the door to see who it was. He addressed her in a familiar way, as though she had been expecting him (which she hadn’t), then walked right in and began examining her spare, poorly furnished apartment while barely looking at her. Sonya’s own feelings on seeing him were a mixture of surprise, happiness, fear, shyness, and shame. She had no idea what Raskolnikov wanted, and her questions about his plans were timid while his own questions were blunt and to the point, though he remained hesitant about revealing his plans. When he finally noticed that she was still standing as he sat, his demeanor suddenly became gentle and compassionate, but he soon reverted to his characteristic intensity and aloofness. She, on the other hand, seemed driven by a constant compassion that colored all her statements and emotions, sometimes bringing her beyond her own timidity.
Raskolnikov’s desire to understand Sonya—Raskolnikov and Sonya talked of many things. Mostly, he asked the questions, and she would answer in a passionate, emotional, usually distressed manner. His overriding goal was to discover what motivated her—what kept her, in her horrendous position in life, from falling into complete ruin. As he saw it, she had three choices: to go mad, to commit suicide, or to yield so fully to depravity that she no longer knew the difference—essentially, that her heart would grow cold. As for the first option, he could already see traces of madness in her behavior; and when he mentioned the second, he detected that the idea came as no surprise. But what kept her from throwing herself into the canal that formed a part of the view from her window was her undying concern for others. It was the same motive that drove her to prostitution: the will, born from a loving heart, to care for her family and to see others with benevolent eyes, no matter what their behavior or issues.
A difference in viewpoint; the search for truth beyond convention—Raskolnikov’s own take on things was more “abstract,” as the narrator terms it. This state of mind is attributed to Raskolnikov’s youthfulness and, as hinted in earlier chapters, the inadequacy of the more selfish or mechanical philosophies that were gaining a foothold at the time. But the cold practicality of those views and their trite attempts at reconciling life’s larger questions had left him restless. He knew that something was missing. He even had an idea of what it was, but he had difficulty connecting the two things—the emptiness of abstraction and the warmth of compassion, the humanizing element that didn’t always make sense on a practical or conventional level. In truth, Raskolnikov was on the verge of a spiritual breakthrough, one that his surroundings could neither understand nor support. Yet he continued to seek for the key outside himself, and he found it most fully in the form of a young, timid prostitute who had transcended the horror of her condition through a love so overwhelming that it would set aside its own needs for others without a second thought. With that love came faith—and it was here that Raskolnikov began to be able to integrate what made no sense to him: the holy and the unholy, the good and the depraved, all in the single thin, pale, trembling package that was Sonya. But he still could only do this from his own partly mad point of view, so for the time being he defined it as “religious mania.”
The story of Lazarus: the raising from the dead—What tipped Raskolnikov off was the New Testament that lay on Sonya’s dresser. He had spotted it as he paced the floor asking her questions, sometimes even enjoying their cold cruelty, and then listening to her often distressed answers. She always argued in favor of compassion. So if Raskolnikov’s observations of Sonya’s landlords’ stammering or Katerina Ivanovna’s head-banging, fatal illness, or the hopeless situation of her fatherless children held a sense of judgment and futility, Sonya would counter with hope and faith backed by a love that took action. Towards the end of their conversation, Raskolnikov demanded that she read him the story of Lazarus. She did this, at first, trembling and choking, but then gaining more and more strength as she continued. When they initially started speaking of religion, she had taken a stern tone with him for the first time during their interaction. But as she continued reading about Jesus’ resurrection of Lazarus, her tone turned into one of triumph, as though she believed that the power of the story would convert even this strange, half-mad man.
The connection to Lizaveta; Raskolnikov’s choice—During the course of the conversation, Raskolnikov had learned that Lizaveta had brought Sonya the New Testament at her request. Previously, he had ignored her question about whether he knew Lizaveta. He had already indicated that he had, and now he promised to return the next day and tell her who Lizaveta’s murderer was, a horrifying thought to Sonya, though she never suspected him. By now, Raskolnikov had explained to Sonya that he had left his family for good and chosen her as his sole life companion. Earlier, he had perceived her profound suffering and that she had transcended the barriers that held most people back, and after looking her intensely in the eyes, he had fallen to the ground and kissed her foot, to her shock. She had not understood it then, though he had told her that he was kissing the foot of all human suffering, but now he explained his relationship to her more fully. In his mind, they needed each other if they were to survive and ultimately—though he didn’t articulate this yet—be redeemed.
An unsuspected eavesdropper— Having finished for the time being, Raskolnikov said he would be back the next day. But Raskolnikov and Sonya had not been alone during their conversation. On the other side of the wall, in the apartment of a German woman named Resslich, Svidrigaylov had stood listening for an entire hour. He had found the talk so significant and interesting that he now brought a chair from his own neighboring room so that he could listen in comfort the next time.
Chapter 5
In the police station waiting room—Raskolnikov was right on time to his meeting with Porfiry the following day. It was at the police station, and he was astonished that he had to wait more than ten minutes before anyone paid the slightest attention to him. The general indifference left him wondering how real the incident with the stranger on the street had been; and if real, how much, if anything, had he divulged to the police? Or was the whole thing just a figment of Raskolnikov’s half-crazed imagination?
Suddenly, he realized that he was shaking with fear at the thought of seeing Porfiry, whom he hated with a passion. But the idea that he feared him made him resentful, and knowing that his intense emotions could easily trip him up, he vowed to get a handle on himself and reveal as little as possible.
Porfiry’s strange behavior—Right as his nervousness changed to haughty resolve, Raskolnikov was called into Porfiry’s office. In this, as in the previous chapter, the theme of yellow appeared in the surroundings. The wallpaper in Sonya’s apartment had been yellow, and now the government-owned furniture in Porfiry’s office was made of the same color wood. But in contrast to Raskolnikov’s moody suspiciousness, Porfiry was cheerful and friendly, though he also showed a certain amount of uneasiness. But Porfiry’s friendliness only intensified Raskolnikov’s fear that some game of entrapment was going on, and he could feel his emotions rising, which made him even more nervous.
Raskolnikov went ahead with their official business, handing Porfiry a paper related to the pledge and then asking him if he wanted to know more about his acquaintance with Alena Ivanovna. But Porfiry seemed distracted and said that it could wait. He spent a lot of time talking about trivia, acting friendly, or moving about the room with no particular logic. Rarely did the two of them make eye contact, and then only briefly. At other times, Porfiry would study Raskolnikov intensely with a look that didn’t match his other behavior. Sensing something amiss, Raskolnikov finally confronted Porfiry, citing the legal investigative habit of first luring and lulling the suspect and then snaring him right as he got to the point of trust. Porfiry’s reaction was to laugh uncontrollably, which only intensified Raskolnikov’s hatred. But knowing what might happen if his emotions got out of hand, he rose to leave, informing Porfiry that he had no time to waste if he didn’t plan to get down to business.
Cat and mouse—In fact, Raskolnikov’s intense awareness of Porfiry’s tactics only made matters worse, creating a sense of paranoia and indignation that led him to repeatedly question his own thoughts and finally strike the table with his fist several times during the visit, shouting as he did so that he wouldn’t put up with Porfiry’s games. Of course, Raskolnikov was also playing games, daring Porfiry to arrest or interrogate him properly if he thought he was guilty. The scene becomes increasingly twisted as Porfiry alternately denies that he thinks so and then plays with Raskolnikov’s thoughts and emotions in a way that is obviously meant to entrap. He would quote Raskolnikov as saying things he hadn’t, speak about his own entrapment approach as though it were intended for someone else, and argue for Raskolnikov’s innocence while leading him to reveal his guilt. Occasionally, he would insert some telling phrase or word amid his ramblings as though he were trying to upset Raskolnikov, like when he used the analogy of striking someone on the head with an axe. Another tactic was his admission that he knew about Raskolnikov’s late-night visit to the murder victim’s apartment, where he was so brazen as to question the workmen about blood. Somehow that didn’t fit with the notion of his innocence, although Raskolnikov argued that if he were guilty, he would deny the incident, which he didn’t. But Porfiry had his system all worked out. He taunted Raskolnikov as he explained that he used different tactics for different types of people, and the cleverer the suspect, the more cunning the tactics had to be. Porfiry also knew that highly intelligent suspects were high-strung, which was why he didn’t immediately jump to arrest them but let them roam around and do as they pleased. He knew that their nervous natures would lead them right into a snare of their own making. This answered at least one question for Raskolnikov, who had wondered to himself why no one had come for him yet, given that a number of people seemed to know so much.
Raskolnikov moves to leave—Eventually, Raskolnikov got to the point where he could stand it no longer and was ready to leave. However, Porfiry was not about to give up. Throughout the visit, Raskolnikov had turned pale, trembled, and shown other signs of distress and nervousness. But by now his rage was so apparent that he shook visibly and was shouting and even rushing at Porfiry.
A commotion at the door—Earlier, Raskolnikov had noticed Porfiry stopping attentively by a door leading into a back room, and he wondered whether he was waiting for something. Now Porfiry detained Raskolnikov under the pretext of showing him a “secret.” That aroused Raskolnikov’s curiosity but raised his already high stress level another notch. Was it another trap? Just as they were heading over to unlock the door that harbored the “secret,” there was a commotion behind the same door. Raskolnikov immediately grew fearful that Porfiry had sent for “them,” the people he felt who could incriminate him. But his terror was so intense that it quickly turned to resolve: he was ready for anything as he told Porfiry to bring them on.
Chapter 6
The painter Nikolay’s confession—As Raskolnikov remembered the next incident, the commotion grew louder, and the door opened slightly. Porfiry started to object and demanded to know what was going on. The commotion continued, and a voice behind the door announced that Nikolay, the painter being held in custody, had been fetched. Annoyed, Porfiry ordered them to wait till called and moved to stop any further entry, but it was too late. There was some more commotion, and then Nikolay entered the room, pale, thin, and with the fixed look of a man condemned to death. The guard tried unsuccessfully to restrain him, and Porfiry scolded them again for coming too soon, as though they had ruined his plan. But by now, Nikolay was on his knees confessing to the murder, to the astonishment of all in the room.
Staged or real?—Porfiry acted as though he didn’t know what Nikolay was talking about and asked for details. Sometimes, Nikolay would give more information than what was asked for, such as the detail that he blacked out while committing the killing. In those moments, at least, according to Raskolnikov’s recollection, Porfiry would mutter something about not having mentioned that aspect or about Nikolay being in a hurry or having been fed some statements. Porfiry would also periodically look back and forth from Nikolay to Raskolnikov, and the whole incident had the appearance of being staged, though poorly.
Porfiry escorts Raskolnikov out; a friendly interchange—Porfiry then remembered Raskolnikov, and resuming his friendly attitude, he began to escort him out, as required by these new, unexpected circumstances. By now, Raskolnikov was feeling better about things, but both men were shaking from the incident that had just occurred. As he was being led out, Raskolnikov asked about the secret surprise Porfiry had intended to show him. But he received no clear answer—just an ironic expression and a goodbye. Contrary to Raskolnikov’s initial impression, however, it was not goodbye forever: there were still questions to resolve and formalities to fulfill. Raskolnikov also apologized to Porfiry for his enraged behavior before the painter burst in, and Porfiry was quick to forgive and understand, claiming that he had the same kind of character. Their parting seemed genuinely friendly, with Porfiry encouraging Raskolnikov to take care of his health and Raskolnikov in turn wishing Porfiry success. He couldn’t help commenting, though, on what a strange job Porfiry had. He had noticed every detail of his interaction with Nikolay, how it seemed rehearsed and how Porfiry had then turned all that rehearsal on its head, insinuating that Nikolay was lying about his involvement. Porfiry was impressed with Raskolnikov’s acute sense of irony and observational powers, and on that note, they parted.
Raskolnikov contemplates Porfiry’s game—Yet for all his intelligence, Raskolnikov was utterly confused. He had already missed the funeral, but now he headed home before going to dinner at Katerina Ivanovna’s. Once home, he sat on his bed trying to decipher the reasons behind Nikolay’s confession. The fact that it was a lie meant that the situation would have to be rectified, but in the meantime Raskolnikov still had his hoped-for reprieve—at least, for now. Porfiry had sized him up correctly and was playing a rough, if deliberately obvious game. That obviousness added to Raskolnikov’s confusion. Porfiry had mentioned a surprise, but was it a real surprise, or was he still just playing games? If it was real, then surely it must be related to the stranger on the street.
An unexpected visitor—Still mystified but relieved to feel a moment of freedom, Raskolnikov rose to leave. Just as he was about to open the door, it opened of its own accord to reveal the same mysterious, threatening stranger. He had come to beg forgiveness for his malevolent thoughts toward Raskolnikov. He explained that he was a furrier who lived and worked in the same building where the murder was committed. He had been standing there with the porters the day Raskolnikov asked about the blood and spoke briefly with the porters, who assumed he was drunk. This man, however, believed Raskolnikov should be taken to the police, but now he had changed his mind.
Raskolnikov did not recognize the man from his conversation with the porters, but as he put it all together, he realized how incidental the occurrence was and how Porfiry had no clear evidence against him. What frightened him was that he had almost given himself away because of such a trivial incident, all because of his own psychological weakness.
The nature of the “surprise;” Porfiry’s reaction to the stranger’s information—Raskolnikov asked the man whether he had told Porfiry about his visit to the murder victims’ apartment, which the man had. It turned out that he was the “surprise” behind the back door, having spoken to Porfiry only a moment before Raskolnikov’s visit. He had even heard the whole visit and sympathized with Raskolnikov because of Porfiry’s treatment of him. Raskolnikov wanted to know more, so the man told him that he had gone to Porfiry and told him all he had discovered and that Porfiry had become agitated and angry on hearing the information, even stating that he would have had Raskolnikov arrested if he had known earlier. As far as Porfiry’s interview with Nikolay, the man knew as little as Raskolnikov, having been sent away immediately after him. After apologizing for slandering Raskolnikov, he took his leave.
The effect on Raskolnikov—The encounter left Raskolnikov feeling good and strong, but he also knew that he was dealing with a double-edged sword, and while he was prepared to fight, he was angry that he had been such a coward.
Part V
Chapter 1
Luzhin’s fortunes go downhill—Dunya’s rejection of Luzhin, which was now gaining in reality for him, was just the beginning of a downturn in the events of his life. His young friend and host Lebezyatnikov had becoming irritating; the Senate case Luzhin was working on had gone awry; his prospective landlord would not waive the rental contract without penalties despite all Luzhin had done on the apartment; and the furniture store refused to refund him his deposit on the as yet undelivered furniture.
Luzhin regrets his stinginess—Raskolnikov had correctly sized up Luzhin as someone who used his wealth and position to wield power over Dunya and their mother. But Luzhin now had to admit that he had gone about things in the wrong way: instead of withholding money and gifts, he should have given them to the two ladies. No doubt they would have been less likely to reject him outright.
The landlady prepares for the funeral dinner—All of this only aggravated Luzhin’s mood, which was worse than ever. But on arriving at his apartment building, he was soon distracted by the preparations for Katerina Ivanovna’s dinner honoring her late husband. The landlady was getting things ready while Katerina Ivanovna was at the graveyard, and from this landlady he learned that it was to be an excellent affair that included virtually every renter—himself, too—as well as Raskolnikov.
Luzhin’s real attitude towards Lebezyatnikov—Luzhin’s attention next turned to Lebezyatnikov, who had not gone out all morning. Despite Luzhin’s favorable public opinion of Lebezyatnikov, he actually disliked and feared him. Back in the provinces, he had learned that he held an important position among the young progressives, and aside from wanting to save money, Luzhin’s main reason for staying with him had been to investigate these progressive circles and keep track of their doings and ideas. He was afraid of being exposed and denounced, as he had seen happen to others, and he thought that he might prevent this in his own case through this knowledge, in addition to potentially gaining an in with the younger generation. Yet he was not convinced that these progressive groups had any real influence, and his main concern had only been that they might interfere with his career ambitions. He had already ascertained that Lebezyatnikov was simplistic and geared towards the latest political trends, though without any deeper understanding of them; but this recognition did not reduce Luzhin’s anxieties despite his conclusion that Lebezyatnikov had no power. He had noticed that Lebezyatnikov had some strange ideas, however, and he had originally tolerated these since they came in the form of praise of himself. One of them was Lebezyatnikov’s dream of starting a commune, for which he had volunteered Luzhin as a patron. That meant, of course, that Lebezyatnikov had much less money than Luzhin, but instead of being sensitive to Lebezyatnikov’s relative poverty, Luzhin openly counted his wads of money in front of him as another way of displaying his power. And as though that weren’t enough, he inserted snide remarks between his calculations in response to Lebezyatnikov’s statements.
A strained relationship—Lebezyatnikov was not so simple that he didn’t sense Luzhin’s condescending attitude, which didn’t help his own attitude towards Luzhin. But being basically kind, he attributed Luzhin’s poor behavior to the recent distressing events in his life. During their conversation, Luzhin at first pretended ignorance of the funeral dinner and the fact that he was invited, though Lebezyatnikov saw right through this. Despite Luzhin’s “ignorance,” he seemed to know a huge amount about Katerina Ivanovna’s expenses and economic situation, and it was clear that he didn’t approve of her choice to have such a lavish event. He therefore had no intention of going to the dinner, and when Lebezyatnikov said the same, Luzhin immediately brought up the incident of Lebezyatnikov’s supposed beating of Katerina Ivanovna. Lebezyatnikov was surprised, explaining that she had attacked him first and that he had only been defending himself. Besides, that was not why he wasn’t going, though he didn’t like the reminder, since he believed that fighting should be done away with altogether, and it certainly wouldn’t exist in the future society. His reason for not attending had to do with his dislike of superstition, and if he did attend, it would only be to spread the seeds of modern thinking, something he believed to be every person’s duty.
Lebezyatnikov explains the future order and his relationship with Sonya—Luzhin had been laughing at Lebezyatnikov throughout the conversation, but now he changed the topic to Sonya: he wanted to know if the talk about her was true. Lebezyatnikov confirmed what Luzhin was implying (though neither of them mentioned prostitution directly), but in Lebezyatnikov’s opinion, Sonya’s “condition” was entirely natural and the logical route for her to take. In SX future society, her actions would be regarded differently, and even now, he respected her. Luzhin was puzzled, having heard that Lebezyatnikov himself had cast Sonya out, but Lebezyatnikov, who grew furious at this insinuation, protested that it was untrue and the result of a misunderstanding by Katerina Ivanovna. Lebezyatnikov also denied forcing himself on Sonya and insisted that they were good friends, that he treated her with the courtesy, and that he was trying to educate her but respected her right to decide for herself. Sonya was also a potential candidate for the commune Lebezyatnikov was forming. When Luzhin suggested that he should have given Sonya a gift, Lebezyatnikov grew angry that Luzhin viewed people in such an inhumane way, because he thought within certain limited categories. Similarly, Luzhin kept reading his own vile thoughts into Lebezyatnikov’s motives, but Lebezyatnikov saw through this and addressed Luzhin’s vulgarity, disappointed that he had such a lack of understanding. But he was even more disappointed in himself for mentioning these things to Luzhin, who could not see outside his own mental boxes and kept making fun of Lebezyatnikov. Lebezyatnikov, for his part, saw no dishonor in anything that was useful—“honor” was an outworn concept to the new way of thinking. He would be ready to do the filthiest jobs himself, even if that meant cleaning a cesspool.
Luzhin asks to see Sonya—Luzhin didn’t care—he kept right on laughing at Lebezyatnikov; but now that he had finished counting his money, he asked to see Sonya now that the funeral party had returned. Lebezyatnikov was obliging, with no strange suspicions. Even so, Luzhin wanted Lebezyatnikov to stay while he spoke to Sonya so that Raskolnikov, who had also arrived in the building, would not get any ideas about his intentions and convey the wrong idea to his mother and sister.
Luzhin’s interaction with Sonya—Sonya arrived, shy and confused as usual, but even more so since Luzhin had left some of his money on the table, which distracted her and left her feeling awkward and self-conscious. Her focus next turned to Luzhin’s gold ring and spectacles, but still feeling uncomfortable, she finally managed to keep her attention on his face. Luzhin’s attitude towards her was friendly and courteous but condescending. He would not let Sonya leave before he was finished, in spite of several attempts by her to do so, and he wanted to clear be about his intentions. First, he wanted her to tell Katerina Ivanovna that he would not be attending the dinner. Second, Katerina Ivanovna had believed she might be receiving a pension as the widow of a civil servant, but Luzhin was convinced that this would not happen. Third, he was ready to provide the needed money in increments—given Katerina’s obvious impracticality with regard to household economy (despite Sonya’s protests that her stepmother was usually sensible and only wanted to honor her late husband). He would do this as long as no one knew that he was the source and the money went through Sonya. Sonya was deeply grateful and agreed to act as a go-between. At Luzhin’s direction, she would deliver one ten-ruble note now and would be back at seven that evening to discuss things further.
A mixed impression—Sonya now returned to Katerina Ivanovna, fatigued, distressed, and bewildered by the conversation. Lebezyatnikov, who had observed the whole interaction, was impressed by Luzhin’s seemingly noble behavior, and he told him so, even if their philosophies didn’t mesh. Lebezyatnikov did not, for example, consider personal charity to normally be a good thing, but in this case, it revealed a good heart. Luzhin brushed his comment aside, but Lebezyatnikov insisted, especially after Luzhin’s run-in with Dunya the day before. This led him to the topic of legal marriage, another outworn idea—one cherished by Luzhin—that Lebezyatnikov could not accept. Luzhin explained that he wanted to raise only his own children, without being a cuckold. That started Lebezyatnikov on yet another diatribe about outmoded concepts. But despite his sneers, Luzhin wasn’t fully listening: something else had claimed his attention and was making him eager with anticipation. Lebezyatnikov noticed this, but the reasons behind it did not become clear to him until later.
Chapter 2
Katerina Ivanovna’s motives for the dinner—Aside from her desire to honor her late husband, Katerina Ivanovna’s reasons for the funeral dinner were probably motivated by pride. This was not abnormal among the poor, who sometimes responded to special occasions with the wish to show their neighbors that they were equal to them. In Katerina Ivanovna’s case, that wish would have been compounded by her relatively privileged upbringing, which she still related to more strongly than her present circumstances.
Luzhin’s notion of Katerina Ivanovna’s extravagance had been exaggerated in terms of quality and variety; however, in terms of quantity, there was plenty of food, tea, punch, and poor-quality wine, port, vodka, and rum. The landlady had worked hard at cooking and preparing things, and someone else had helped Katerina Ivanovna with the shopping.
Sudden changeableness—Katerina Ivanovna’s typical response to such help was to swing from exaggerated praise to equally overdone disdain, getting easily aggravated with both her helpers and herself over the smallest things. Her hard life had made her this way, though she had originally been good-natured, and her tendency towards mental upset was also intensified by her consumption. For one thing, she did not like being upstaged, so if someone—her landlady, in this case—did anything too well and, worse, took pride in it, Katerina Ivanovna would feel annoyed and insulted.
A disappointing turnout—Katerina Ivanovna’s bad feelings were compounded by the fact that most of the lodgers, the bulk of her invitees, neglected to show for the funeral. On top of that, the most respectable of them failed to show for the dinner, while the poorest and least savory all came. She had been looking forward, for example, to Luzhin’s arrival, so his failure to show was a disappointment. (Interestingly, Katerina Ivanovna’s version of Luzhin’s pension story was the opposite of his own: according to Katerina Ivanovna, Luzhin had told her that he would get her an excellent pension—another example of her tendency to exaggerate people’s good points before disparaging them unfairly when they took a step in the wrong direction.) The notable exception to this substandard turnout was Raskolnikov, the only educated and well-bred person there. Consequently, Katerina Ivanovna practically flung herself at him and latched onto him as her dinner neighbor and main conversation partner.
Katerina Ivanovna’s own bad manners—For all her disdain towards most of her guests, Katerina Ivanovna herself behaved poorly, blaming her landlady for the bad turnout and openly making fun of her as well as looking down on her other guests, who by now were all seated at the table. Her mocking and laughter went on between fits of coughing, complaining about the dinner outcome, and a general outpouring of emotion, most of it addressed to Raskolnikov in a whisper. The coughing had become worse in recent days, and now she was flushed, breaking into a sweat, and spitting up blood, which she also showed to Raskolnikov.
Sonya arrives and delivers Luzhin’s message—At this point, Sonya entered and seated herself next to Raskolnikov, as instructed by her stepmother. She promptly and respectfully delivered Luzhin’s message, adding that he intended to meet Katerina Ivanovna for business at a later date. This news restored Katerina Ivanovna’s wounded ego, and she decided that it was better after all that a man like Luzhin was not among such an “extraordinary” collection of guests.
The rudeness escalates—As the party progressed, one particularly drunk retired clerk downed his twelfth vodka as he exclaimed how much Marmeladov had enjoyed drinking. That got Katerina Ivanovna going again, defending her husband as a good-hearted man in spite of his drunkenness. Some of the guests were egging the clerk on for amusement, trying to rile him so that he would offend Katerina Ivanovna. Luckily, he gave in before things got too heated, preferring to return to his vodka.
Raskolnikov was not enjoying this spectacle. He had barely touched the mounds of food on his plate and was mostly staring at Sonya, who from the beginning had been determined to avoid his glances, focusing instead on Katerina Ivanovna’s needs. Both Raskolnikov and Sonya were fearful that the evening would not turn out well if things kept going as they were. Sonya was especially uncomfortable because one of the no-shows—a woman and her daughter who were new lodgers—had refused to come .because of her immoral profession. She was aware that Katerina Ivanovna took such insults personally and that she would pursue the matter with her usual excess of passion. Fortunately, the German landlady was also aware of this and tried to change the subject, but in the process she became the butt of Katerina Ivanovna’s next round of mockery.
From bad to worse, with a surprise interruption—Having insulted the landlady, Katerina Ivanovna moved onto other subjects. One was her desire to open a young ladies’ boarding school in her hometown. As a show of her legitimate right to conduct such an operation, she produced the same certificate Marmeladov had previously shown Raskolnikov, the idea being to demonstrate the validity of Katerina Ivanovna’s near-aristocratic background. As the certificate was being handed around, Katerina continued elaborating on her plan, part of which was to have Sonya as her assistant. This brought instant mockery from the guests, which in turn brought an instant defense from Katerina Ivanovna, who grew extremely emotional and realized she had been talking foolishness. At this point, the landlady, who felt shunted to the side, decided to throw in her two bits about how to run the school. This was too much for Katerina Ivanovna in her overwrought state, and she immediately ripped into the landlady, who fought back with threats of eviction due to unpaid rent. The mutual insults escalated, along with mutual comparisons of each other’s fathers as a way of defending their honor or insulting each other. The whole scene kept getting both uglier and more comical, and just as it reached the point of total chaos, with the children crying and Katerina Ivanovna about the attack the landlady’s hat (which she thought was ridiculous), Luzhin himself appeared at the door.
Chapter 3
Luzhin’s business—Katerina Ivanovna was excited to see Luzhin and tried to corner him, but he had come for other reasons. The room gradually fell silent at the arrival of this important visitor, with his obviously important business, as Luzhin marched straight over to Sonya and accused her of the theft of a 100-ruble note. He was sure he had counted correctly, and he refused to suspect Lebezyatnikov, which left him no choice in his mind but to suspect Sonya, based on her nervousness, her impulse to leave in haste several times during the conversation, and her immoral profession. In fact, Luzhin seemed like he was on a rampage, intent on setting Sonya up at all costs—although he was so sure of his own credibility versus hers that he apparently figured there was no risk in his false accusation. He therefore gave her a choice: she could repent of her act, or, if she denied knowing anything about it, he would be forced use harsher means.
Sonya is confused amidst accusing stares—Sonya herself was confused and terrified. She did not know what Luzhin was talking about. All she knew of was the 10 rubles he had given her, which she now presented. Everyone in the room stared at her with a variety of discouraging expressions ranging from jeering to full-out hatred, while Luzhin quietly ordered the landlady to call for the porter and send word to the police. Even Raskolnikov had a fiery look.
Katerina Ivanovna defends Sonya—When the landlady professed to have always believed that Sonya was a thief, Luzhin asked her to remember her words, which she might need to repeat before witnesses. Amidst the din in the room, Katerina Ivanovna suddenly woke from her stupor and started insulting and yelling at Luzhin in defense of Sonya’s character. She chided Sonya for taking money from him and, grabbing the 10 rubles, hurled it at Luzhin, who called her an insane woman. Shrieking, Katerina Ivanovna defied him to search Sonya and threatened to go to the Tsar himself for justice. Sonya might be gentle and timid, but she was not.
The 100-ruble note is found on Sonya’s person—Luzhin was ready to do a search but hesitated, too, mumbling that it should be done properly—perhaps the landlady could assist. In her frenzy, Katerina Ivanovna herself started pulling Sonya’s pockets inside out, when a 100-note ruble flew out and landed at Luzhin’s feet. Luzhin then took full advantage of the situation, displaying it for everyone to see. The landlady immediately ordered Sonya out of the apartment, while Sonya, hysterical, flung herself into Katerina Ivanovna’s arms, denying that she took the 100 rubles. Katerina Ivanovna refused to believe that Sonya was guilty, and she vocally defended Sonya’s character before all, appalled that no one was coming to the girl’s defense and claiming that none of them was worthy of her—she, who had given up even her own dignity for her destitute family.
Lebezyatnikov reveals what actually happened—Seizing on the moment as a possible way out of his situation, Luzhin tried to take the approach of the noble gentleman who was ready to forgive. But his plot was foiled by Lebezyatnikov, who had been listening in the doorway the whole time, having arrived briefly after Luzhin. Now Lebezyatnikov suddenly spoke up, accusing Luzhin of trickery. He had seen everything back in his own apartment: how Luzhin had stealthily folded a 100-ruble note while handing Sonya the ten rubles and how he then slipped it into her pocket while shaking her hand. Only the motive made no sense to him. Lebezyatnikov had originally thought Luzhin had the noble intention of helping the poor without letting anyone know about it, but now he was completely confused except for the clear proof that Luzhin was a “scoundrel.”
Lebezyatnikov’s convincing witness—Luzhin kept trying various ways out, accusing Lebezyatnikov of drunkenness, physical shortsightedness, and confusion. But none of it worked: Lebezyatnikov did not drink, he had been in a clear position to see all that happened, and his whole reason for coming to Katerina Ivanovna’s had been to inform Sonya of the note in her pocket so that she wouldn’t accidentally lose it. The impulse to inform Sonya was by itself evidence that he had witnessed something. The only thing he didn’t understand was why Luzhin would dare to slander and lie, even calling Lebezyatnikov a liar. But the answer now stepped forward in the form of Raskolnikov.
Raskolnikov provides the final piece—Raskolnikov explained in clear, concise terms all about Luzhin’s betrothal to his sister, his own quarrel with him, and how his sister had broken off the engagement. Raskolnikov was convinced that Luzhin’s slandering of Sonya was his attempt to win back Dunya by making Raskolnikov look bad and himself look good in her eyes. Luzhin had already tried to slander both Raskolnikov and Sonya in the letter written to Pulkheria Alexandrovna, but that attempt had failed. Like Katerina Ivanovna, Raskolnikov also added that Sonya’s character was worthy of all praise.
Total chaos—Having been primed by Katerina Ivanovna’s and Lebezyatnikov’s speeches, the listeners in the room were now thoroughly convinced of Sonya’s innocence, and Lebezyatnikov added the final piece explaining Luzhin’s behavior. Earlier, in Lebezyatnikov’s apartment, Luzhin had insisted that Raskolnikov be kept away during Luzhin’s meeting with Sonya, and Lebezyatnikov now understood why. Luzhin had nothing left to save him but his own arrogance and rudeness as he pushed his way through the chaotic crowd. Thoroughly disgusted with his guest, Lebezyatnikov threw Luzhin out of his apartment, while Luzhin, who always had to be right, claimed he had intended to leave anyway. One of the drunken guests tried throwing a glass at Luzhin but missed and hit the landlady instead. That started a war between her and Katerina Ivanovna, who subsequently got evicted from her room, together with all her children. Katerina Ivanovna instructed her children to remain there under Polenka’s young but watchful eye, while she went out into the cold in search of justice, which had to exist somewhere in this world. Sonya, who couldn’t bear it anymore, had already fled to her own apartment. And Raskolnikov set out to Sonya’s to discover her thoughts in view of the latest developments.
Chapter 4
Raskolnikov resolves to tell Sonya the truth—Raskolnikov’s brave defense of Sonya was followed by familiar sensations of terror and hesitation as he approached her apartment, yet he also had an urgent need to reveal the truth about who murdered Lizaveta. He found Sonya with her face buried in her hands. Her natural empathy had told her that she should go back to Katerina Ivanovna’s, but she had had an intuition that Raskolnikov would come to see her, so she stayed.
Sonya cuts through Raskolnikov’s circuitous approach—Instead of approaching the subject of the murder head-on, Raskolnikov first brought up Sonya’s incident with Luzhin. Sonya interrupted his train of thought. She told him she felt bad that she had left Katerina Ivanovna’s, and she wondered what had happened after she left. Raskolnikov informed her that Katerina Ivanovna had been evicted and had left to seek justice. When Sonya’s first thought was to go and help, Raskolnikov expressed exasperation. Could she not spend time with him instead of always running to help her family? He continued his previous line of thinking: had he and Lebezyatnikov not been present, purely by chance, things might have turned out differently. Luzhin would probably have prevailed because of Sonya’s social standing, and Sonya would have gone to prison. Would Sonya have acted other than she did if she had known Luzhin’s real intentions and how it would end? And if she had the ability to decide who would live or die—Luzhin or Katerina Ivanovna—whom would she choose? But Sonya could not allow herself to think that way: it was not her right to take the place of God. Raskolnikov protested that she should not confuse things by bringing God into equation, which led Sonya to exclaim that he should get to the point, knowing that he was leading up to something else.
Sonya waits patiently for Raskolnikov—Raskolnikov was silent for a time while Sonya wept, and then he finally admitted that she was right. Mixed emotions of helplessness, terror, and hatred ran through his breast until, looking upon Sonya, he recognized the pure love in her own gaze. The momentary hatred he had felt immediately disappeared, and he realized that he had to tell her the truth now. But it was not so easy. His feelings of terror returned; but Sonya was patient and waited, though she, too, was fearful and uncomfortable.
Raskolnikov hints about who murdered Lizaveta—Finally, Raskolnikov began to hint about the subject he was trying to broach, reminding Sonya that he had promised to reveal Lizaveta’s murderer to her. Sonya could not understand how he would know that, and sensing her fear and discomfort, Raskolnikov inched his way toward the truth, revealing it bit by bit as though he were talking about someone else. Finally, he made her guess by looking into his eyes, and as she did so, he remembered the scene of Lizaveta’s murder and the cold feeling that accompanied it, but now he saw Sonya in her place.
Sonya’s compassionate reaction—Raskolnikov had not expected Sonya’s compassionate reaction as the truth fully dawned on her. Once her own terror had passed, she thought only of him—his anguish, his pain, his misery. At different moments, she sat close beside him, kneeled before him, held his hands tightly, and embraced him. The hope of love and forgiveness rose in his heart as he asked her whether she would always stay with him. For Sonya, the answer was a given: she would never leave him. She would even follow him to jail.
Sonya tries to reconcile what she knows of Raskolnikov with the murder act—But Raskolnikov informed Sonya that he might not yet be ready for jail. This statement renewed Sonya’s sense of terror and confusion. She could not reconcile what she knew of him with the terrible act he claimed to have committed, even though she knew without a doubt that it was a fact. But how could the same person murder and then give away all he had? Raskolnikov tried to tell her that his main intention had been to steal, but this wasn’t entirely true, either. The money he had given away was his, from his mother, and he wasn’t even sure that he had stolen any money from the murder victim. Furthermore, what he had stolen, he had buried, and he even told Sonya where. Confused, Sonya asked why Raskolnikov had used money as an excuse, but he himself didn’t know, and for a moment, she thought he might be insane, but she quickly dismissed the thought.
Raskolnikov works through his reasons for committing the crime and coming to Sonya—The truth was that Raskolnikov had not yet sorted out his real reasons for committing the murder, and he wasn’t sure that Sonya would understand, though he was certain that no one else would. He had come to her because she was all he had now, and he had hoped that she would help him carry the burden of his suffering. But as Raskolnikov tried to expound on his motives, he concluded that he and Sonya were different types of people. Perhaps he should not have come to her, but Sonya protested and promised that she would eventually understand.
Raskolnikov spoke of being evil and of wanting to be a Napoleon—the type of man who doesn’t flinch when faced with a daring task outside the norm. But Sonya didn’t accept this as an explanation: she wanted something more immediate, less archetypal. Seeing that she was right, Raskolnikov explained that he couldn’t bear seeing his mother and sister reduced to destitution or dependency. Yet his own situation prevented him from helping, and he was doing little to change it. It might be a long time before he could help them—maybe forever. He admitted, however, that murder was wrong, even if he saw the victim as a “louse.”
Raskolnikov’s attempt to break through the conventional barriers—Horrified at this notion, Sonya questioned the idea that Raskolnikov could conceive of a person as a louse, and Raskolnikov admitted that it wasn’t true. In fact, he still hadn’t hit on the real reason for the murder. It had been a long time since he had tried to communicate clearly and honestly with anyone, and his thinking was muddled. He also admitted that if he had tried, he could have made his life work: he could have continued studying, asked his mother for money, and gotten work. But he did nothing and even turned jobs away. His state wasn’t helped by his cramped, depressing quarters, where he spent much of his time, eating only if Nastasya happened to feed him and mostly just lying there, sometimes plagued by bad dreams. But none of this was the actual reason for the murder. He kept reverting to the Napoleon idea—the notion that those who dared beyond the norm were set apart and worshipped by the masses of common humanity. He felt that he had thought outside the norm: it only remained to prove to himself that he could act outside it. Even so, he had mulled things over for a long time before taking action. He added that what he had said about helping his mother and sister was a lie—he had acted solely to test himself. He needed to know whether he could break through the barriers that held most people in check and thus earn the right … but here Sonya interrupted him: no one had the right to kill.
Raskolnikov feels that he failed to transcend the ordinary state—Raskolnikov was frustrated with Sonya’s interruptions, but he resumed his explanation. He spoke of how the devil was meddling with him and had taught him that he, too, was not a Napoleon but a louse. Would he have come to Sonya otherwise? He even stated that he had killed himself rather than the old woman and that the devil himself had done away with her.
Sonya advises Raskolnikov to turn himself in, but he refuses—Raskolnikov’s torment was clear to Sonya, and with a deeply pained expression, he now asked her what to do. Sonya’s solution was that he should go to the crossroads, confess the murder, and ask the world for forgiveness. Doing that and expiating his crime through suffering would bring down a renewal of life from God. Raskolnikov understood this to mean that he should turn himself in, and he refused. Sonya was dismayed. Raskolnikov’s refusal meant that he would become something less than human, and thus unable to face his family. Yet she knew that Raskolnikov had already cast that relationship aside. Raskolnikov himself seemed to be thinking of the authorities when he spoke of their coldness, cruelty, and hypocrisy: he refused to confess to those who were guilty of even greater crimes and were unlikely to understand why he hadn’t taken the goods after committing the murder. But Sonya kept referring to his spiritual peril, while he, in comparing himself to others worse than himself, concluded that he might not be a louse after all and that he might be able to stand up against them.
Raskolnikov tells Sonya the police are on his tail—It was then that Raskolnikov explained to Sonya that the police were onto him. Her reaction was intense fear, which he could not understand—hadn’t she just advised him to turn himself in? But he believed he could fend them off at least for a time, claiming that they had nothing more than inconclusive evidence. Even if he did land in prison, they would not be able to keep him there for long. He was also glad that his mother and sister were taken care of for now, and he promised himself to keep an eye on that situation. Finally, he asked Sonya if she would come see him in jail, but after her enthusiastic response, he changed his mind. Her love for him, instead of making his burden easier, intensified his pain and sadness.
Sonya offers Raskolnikov a cross for when he is ready to turn himself in—After a dejected silence, Sonya asked Raskolnikov if he owned a cross, and when she received no answer, she offered him a wooden one. Her other brass cross had been a gift from Lizaveta, and Sonya had given her an icon in return. Raskolnikov wasn’t yet ready to take it, so Sonya told him that when he was, she would place it on him and pray with him, and afterwards he would turn himself in.
Lebezyatnikov knocks at the door—Just at that moment, Lebezyatnikov knocked at the door, and Sonya, though frightened, answered immediately.
Chapter 5
Lebezyatnikov tells about Katerina Ivanovna’s madness; Sonya leaves at once—Lebezyatnikov had come to inform Sonya about Katerina Ivanovna’s insane behavior. He tried to play down its reality to spare Sonya’s feelings, but even then, it was dramatic enough. Katerina Ivanovna had made the youngest children entertainers’ caps and was forcing all of them to dance and sing on the streets. Her point was to show how the children of a one-time gentleman and civil servant had been reduced to a beggar’s lot. But she hadn’t stopped there. In her frenzy, she had gone to seek out her late husband’s superior, who happened to be dining with another general. Apparently, she made a scene and even threw something at him. The result was that she was tossed out. By now, Sonya had heard enough and left.
Lebezyatnikov was more direct with Raskolnikov, whom he had expected to see there. Katerina Ivanovna’s mad behavior was real—there was no “seeming” about it. Raskolnikov noted that tuberculosis could make people crazy, to which Lebezyatnikov replied that logic could influence people and that a doctor in Paris had had some success curing tuberculosis with this approach. But Raskolnikov found Lebezyatnikov’s reasoning too simplistic and needed to get away, so he excused himself and went to his room.
Raskolnikov is met by Dunya, who has learned “all”—Once there, he wasn’t sure why he had come or why he had ever bothered Sonya. He resolved to spend the rest of his life alone, possibly even in Siberia, which might be a better choice at this point. His thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of his sister, who claimed to have learned “everything” from Razumikhin and understood her brother’s feelings about wanting to be alone. Of course, Razumikhin didn’t understand things himself, but Dunya didn’t know that. She promised to say nothing to their mother but urged Raskolnikov to see her one more time. In the meantime, she would remain calm. She finished by saying that if he needed anything, she would be there for him.
Raskolnikov gives the impression that they are parting forever—Dunya started to leave, but Raskolnikov stopped her and made a point of putting in a good word for Razumikhin as someone who worked hard and was capable of genuine love. This embarrassed Dunya, and sensing that they would not be seeing each other again, she left distressed. Raskolnikov had ambivalent feelings about leaving her like that. He had wanted to embrace her, to be close and frank with her, but he vacillated and ultimately resisted. The memory of that hug might not be a good one for her, and he didn’t think that she had the necessary endurance, apparently referring to the mentality needed to deal with his state long-term.
A sense of ongoing depression—Raskolnikov was then reminded of Sonya, which prompted him to leave. By now the sun was setting and the air had cooled, and as was common at that time of day, he felt the onset of a long depression. He knew he wasn’t well in general, but he had no desire to care for himself; and he chided himself over the fact that his depression seemed brought on by such trivialities as the sunset.
Katerina Ivanovna tries to turn her children into “genteel” street entertainers—Raskolnikov was met by Lebezyatnikov, who had been looking for him. He was still ranting about Katerina Ivanovna’s frenzied condition and how she had persisted in making the children sing and dance to a barrel organ on the street. Currently, they were on the Voznesensky Bridge near Sonya’s apartment. A small crowd of mostly ragamuffins had collected around the frenzied mother and her frightened, wailing children. Katerina Ivanovna would try to sing along but was interrupted by her coughing; and if she spotted any well-to-do individuals, she would target them with her speech about the misfortunes of a well-bred family fallen on hard times. She was determined that this scenario would at once earn them pity as well as a living, free Sonya of the burden of supporting them, get the general (her late husband’s former boss) fired if he didn’t respond, and arouse the sympathies of the merciful, including the Emperor himself; and she told all this to Raskolnikov on spotting him in the crowd. Both he and Sonya, who was there before him, tried to convince her to return to her apartment, but nothing would persuade her—even the mention of the boarding school idea, which she had given up on. Now she was all about earning money through street entertainment, though she emphasized that they were different—more genteel—than the other entertainers. She was convinced that the right people would notice this immediately.
The policeman and the official; Katerina Ivanovna falls down and is carried to Sonya’s—Katerina Ivanovna’s tirade was interrupted by the approach of a policeman and a kindly gentleman official in uniform who gave her three rubles. After expressing her gratitude, she launched into her usual speech about the misfortunes of her family but was informed by the policeman that she needed a license to play the barrel organ. The official, too, tried to dissuade her on the grounds that she was ill and needed to get off the streets. While Katerina Ivanovna stubbornly resisted, her two younger children ran off, with Sonya and their mother chasing them. But Katerina Ivanovna was too ill, and she fell. As the policeman fended off the crowd, Raskolnikov, Lebezyatnikov, and the official noticed blood flowing out of Katerina Ivanovna’s mouth, and the official recognized it as the last stage of consumption. On Sonya’s pleading, Katerina Ivanovna was carried to her room and a doctor and priest sent for. By now, the children had been found, and those closest to the dying woman as well as the policeman and the official were present. The next-door neighbors also arrived, among them Kapernaumov the tailor, Sonya’s landlord, with his family—and none other than Svidrigaylov.
Katerina Ivanovna dies—Katerina Ivanovna had recovered enough by now to sit up and look around Sonya’s room. She admitted that she and the children had been a burden on Sonya, and knowing that she was dying, Katerina Ivanovna handed them over to her. When she saw the priest, though, she rejected him: she felt that she had not sinned and that God’s forgiveness was enough. For a while, Katerina Ivanovna lost track of where she was, and still fixated on the singing, dancing, and the hope for mercy for her orphaned children, she rambled on and on until she finally recognized Sonya again. [DZ1] Shortly after that, she died, having spoken her final words. The children’s and Sonya’s reactions were understandably dramatic. Sonya lay on her dead stepmother, Polenka knelt crying at her feet, and the two younger children held each other and screamed. Raskolnikov noticed the certificate of merit lying on the bed by the dead woman, though he did not know how it had gotten there.
Svidrigaylov tells Raskolnikov that he will provide for the funeral, Sonya, and the children—Raskolnikov had gone to the window and was now approached by Svidrigaylov, who offered to pay for the funeral and any other arrangements. He would provide for the children, putting them in respectable orphanages and granting each of them 1500 rubles when they reached adulthood. And he would provide for Sonya as well, since she didn’t deserve to be forced into such degradation. His only wish was that Raskolnikov should tell his sister what he was doing with the money originally intended for her. When Raskolnikov asked him why he was doing this, Svidrigaylov said that he didn’t need the money and that his intentions were humane. He then quoted various fragments from Raskolnikov’s conversation with Sonya—the one he had overheard from the other side of the wall.
Svidrigaylov confirms his interest in Raskolnikov—The realization that Svidrigaylov knew his deepest, darkest secrets terrified and confused Raskolnikov, while Svidrigaylov seemed to be enjoying himself. In response to Raskolnikov’s perturbed questioning, he explained that he was a next-door neighbor. He had had an intense interest in Raskolnikov, and now he felt that his premonition about knowing him more closely was coming true. He was moreover determined to prove how “easygoing” he was.
Part VI
Chapter 1
Raskolnikov enters a period confusion and apathy—Raskolnikov now entered a period of solitary depression, confusion, anxiety, and apathy, all of which masked an unwillingness to face his situation. Many times, his mind was so muddled that he would confuse actual with imagined events or end up in places without knowing how he got there.
Svidrigaylov’s pursuits and his effect on Raskolnikov—Raskolnikov’s greatest concern was Svidrigaylov. He didn’t know what to make of him or that he knew so much about him; and he didn’t feel up to confronting the issue just yet. That was just as well since Svidrigaylov was extremely busy dealing with the funeral and other arrangements. The few times that Raskolnikov had seen him recently, always in Sonya’s apartment, he learned that Svidrigaylov had managed to find good situations for the children and had set them up financially. He was also making arrangements for Sonya but wanted to first discuss them with Raskolnikov. As he told this to Raskolnikov, he noticed that he wasn’t well and advised plenty of air. Once he was less busy, he would visit him.
The effect of the mass and Sonya’s acceptance—Svidrigaylov had ordered a mass for the dead to be said two times a day, then left as Raskolnikov followed the clergymen into Sonya’s apartment. The scene had a disturbing impact on Raskolnikov—the mystic nature of the prayer service, the children crying, Sonya praying quietly. He thought to himself how she had ignored him in recent days, but at the end of the mass, when she briefly took his hands and rested her head on him, he was surprised by her complete lack of fear or rejection.
Raskolnikov’s desire to be alone, along with a sense that he wasn’t—After he left, Raskolnikov felt a desire to be alone, but the more lonesome the place, the more he felt accompanied by an inexplicable presence. This disturbed him, and he found that the solitariness he was seeking was easier to experience in the city. He felt that he should be dealing with something, but he didn’t know what; and it occurred to him that some sort of struggle would ease his mind.
Raskolnikov had wandered from the city to the highway to the woods and finally back to the city, where he had landed in a pub for a while and for an hour enjoyed the singing there. But his restlessness had driven him on, and he had fallen asleep in some bushes on Krestovsky Island. He awoke in a fever, but was able to sleep it off once back home. He had slept till early afternoon, when Nastasya brought him some food, which he devoured heartily. As Raskolnikov sat there eating and feeling better, he felt glad that he had missed Katerina Ivanovna’s funeral that day.
Razumikhin’s visit—Right about then, Razumikhin entered. He was happy to see his friend eating so well, and he concluded that he wasn’t sick anymore. Razumikhin, who was clearly upset, had come to determine for himself whether Raskolnikov was mad. He had not come to delve into his secrets or to judge him, but he did not understand Raskolnikov’s behavior toward his mother and sister, which seemed wrong and out of character. Razumikhin had stopped by several times before to see him, but Raskolnikov had been out. The day before, Pulkheria Alexandrovna had also wanted to see her son and was in a state of distress, so she went with Dunya and Razumikhin to Raskolnikov’s apartment. On discovering that he was gone, she concluded that he was with his lover and had no time for his family. Now she was in bed with a fever. Razumikhin decided to check on the facts, so he went to Sonya’s, but all he found was the scene with the coffin, the crying children, and Sonya tending to them. As for determining whether Raskolnikov was mad, the facts were too muddled and mostly spoke against that idea. That left him only one option.
Raskolnikov tries indirectly to talk Razumikhin out of giving himself over to alcohol—Raskolnikov, who had said nothing during Razumikhin’s speech, guessed that he would now resort to drinking, and he was right. To dissuade him, Raskolnikov told Razumikhin what he had said to Dunya about him—that he was a good, hardworking man. He believed that Dunya sensed that Razumikhin loved her and that she would probably love him, too, if she didn’t already. In any case, he was sure he could trust Razumikhin to take care of his mother and sister. He also urged him not to be too dogged about learning his secrets. All that would unfold soon enough, but now was not the time. He ended by mentioning Svidrigaylov’s admonition to get more air, though he did not mention Svidrigaylov’s name—only that he needed to find out what he meant by that.
Razumikhin tells Raskolnikov about Dunya’s letter—Listening to this, Razumikhin got the impression that Raskolnikov was a political revolutionary and that Dunya knew about it. That led him to mention a letter she had received that day. Reading it had distressed her, and she had subsequently locked herself in her room. Raskolnikov was struck by the fact that she had received a letter, and Razumikhin was surprised that he hadn’t known about it. After a silence, Razumikhin bade him a warm goodbye and informed his friend that he would not start drinking after all.
Razumikhin tells Raskolnikov about Mikolka’s confession and Porfiry’s explanations—Razumikhin had barely shut the door when he returned to tell Raskolnikov that Mikolka, the painter, had fully confessed to the murder of the old woman. Porfiry had told Razumikhin all about it, explaining the psychology and how the painter had staged the fight and everything else. The mention of Porfiry was unsettling to Raskolnikov. He wanted to know more, but Razumikhin was busy and needed to head out.
Raskolnikov tries to figure out Porfiry’s game—Raskolnikov was glad to have something to struggle against again, since for him it meant an escape from the overburdened, constricted feelings that had been plaguing him. They had started with Mikolka’s confession at Porfiry’s and continued at Sonya’s. Then there was Svidrigaylov, who puzzled him; yet the struggle he presented might also offer an escape. Porfiry, however, seemed like a threat. What was he up to with his psychological explanations to Razumikhin? And could Porfiry reasonably think that Mikolka was guilty after what had passed between himself and Raskolnikov? Raskolnikov was sure Porfiry was plotting something, but what?
Porfiry appears at Raskolnikov’s doorstep—Feeling relatively strong and sane, Raskolnikov decided he would head out to deal with Svidrigaylov, but on his way out, he met Porfiry coming in. He had approached so quietly that Raskolnikov hadn’t heard him at all, but once he got over his initial hesitation, he welcomed him warmly, eager to hear what he had to say.
Chapter 2
Porfiry visits Raskolnikov—Raskolnikov’s warm welcome quickly turned to misgivings as Porfiry appeared to be playing games again. First he talked about his impossible cigarette habit, then about how he entered Raskolnikov’s room the previous day while he was gone. Seeing Raskolnikov’s growing annoyance, he finally admitted that he had come to clarify things. He felt that it was time to go beyond psychology, and he also claimed to respect Raskolnikov, even seeing a degree of greatness in him. Raskolnikov, for his part, kept wondering what Porfiry had up his sleeve. But Porfiry suddenly seemed unusually sincere, stating it was time for them to be honest with one another, especially given the scene that took place between them right before the painter Nikolay’s confession. It occurred to Raskolnikov that Porfiry might think he was innocent, and the thought terrified him.
Porfiry lays everything out—Porfiry summed up all the evidence: Alena Ivanovna’s notes on the pledge; various things he had heard from different sources, including a full recounting of the police station scene; Raskolnikov’s article; his character; and so on. But Porfiry’s point was that no amount of evidence was equal to proof. He continued talking about his initial impressions of Raskolnikov’s character through his daring, unusual article and how he (Porfiry) had manipulated those around Raskolnikov—especially Razumikhin, who could not control his passionate, talkative nature—to smoke him out, assuming he was guilty. He had many things to consider: the painter’s confession and the facts surrounding it; the scene with Zametov at the bar and the information Raskolnikov had divulged to him; Raskolnikov’s laughter at their first meeting; the way Raskolnikov followed the man who accused him of murder; how he revisited the scene of the murder in a delirious state.
Porfiry’s vacillations confuse Raskolnikov—It didn’t make sense to Raskolnikov that Porfiry had thoroughly grasped the situation and was now denying his own understanding. In trying to fathom what was behind his statements, Raskolnikov mentioned that Razumikhin had told him of Porfiry’s belief that Nikolay was guilty. But Porfiry dismissed this. In his view, Razumikhin should not be meddling, and he had sized up Nikolay as being an impressionable child and excellent storyteller who believed his own fables and, being something of a religious fanatic, was happy to embrace suffering. It was just a matter of time before he would confess otherwise, and Porfiry was waiting. In his view, Nikolay had nothing to do with the crime.
Porfiry is convinced that Raskolnikov committed the murder; Raskolnikov denies it—This prompted Raskolnikov to ask who committed the murder, but the answer he received shocked him: Porfiry was certain that Raskolnikov had done it. At first, Raskolnikov denied it. Then there was a long silence, after which he accused Porfiry of playing tricks on him again. But Porfiry had gone beyond that—he had reached a level of conviction about Raskolnikov’s guilt and felt he no longer needed manipulation, though he confessed later that he might still be hiding something. Raskolnikov wanted to know why he didn’t arrest him then and there in that case. But Porfiry was not yet ready to do that. There were still some loose ends, and besides, he liked Raskolnikov and wanted to explain his motives. He also preferred that Raskolnikov confess voluntarily, as it could reduce his sentence and relieve Porfiry’s mind. Porfiry was even willing to adjust his arguments in Raskolnikov’s favor. In his view, Raskolnikov still had a lot to look forward to in life and should not throw it away.
Porfiry’s hidden source becomes apparent—Raskolnikov’s own attitude was not so enthusiastic. He even looked sad, though the sadness quickly turned to scorn. But Porfiry’s sense of Raskolnikov was of someone capable of going beyond the ordinary—someone who could accept suffering and ultimately transcend the boundaries of ordinary thinking. After all, his whole reason for committing the murder had been a philosophical one, but his ideas had been inadequate, and they had ultimately failed him. In Porfiry’s view, this situation might even be God’s way of drawing Raskolnikov back to Himself. Besides, Raskolnikov had too much honesty and integrity to live the life of a fugitive. Ideally, he should confess of his own accord, so Porfiry gave him several days to think things over.
Raskolnikov still denies his involvement; the two men part for now—Porfiry’s speech had been practically inspired and spiritual in its tone and message, oddly reminiscent of Raskolnikov’s private conversation with Sonya, and somehow he appeared to know everything about Raskolnikov. Raskolnikov had wondered at one point whether Porfiry was some sort of prophet. But one thing was particularly striking: at times, Porfiry seemed to even be quoting Svidrigaylov. When Porfiry and Raskolnikov finally said their goodbyes, Raskolnikov waited till Porfiry was safely out of sight and then left immediately.
Chapter 3
Raskolnikov’s mental and moral confusion—If it seems obvious to the reader that Svidrigaylov had been to see Porfiry and divulged Raskolnikov’s secrets, it was not obvious to Raskolnikov, who talked himself out of that possibility. Even so, he felt a pull to go see Svidrigaylov, without knowing why and in spite of the man’s obviously immoral, untrustworthy character. That impression held even if Svidrigaylov was going out of his way for Katerina Ivanovna’s recently orphaned children. Raskolnikov was also morally exhausted and afraid of Sonya’s resolute opinion on what he should do next, which meant that for the moment he didn’t want to see her. Furthermore, Svidrigaylov seemed to hold some secret that was important to him; and even more terrifying was the thought that Svidrigaylov, with his knowledge of Raskolnikov’s secrets, might try to manipulate Dunya. In that case, there was a strong chance that Raskolnikov would have to confess to save his sister. Too weary to think straight, one of the more obvious options in Raskolnikov’s mind was to simply kill Svidrigaylov.
Raskolnikov wanders to a restaurant where he spots Svidrigaylov—It was in this state that Raskolnikov absentmindedly wandered over to a restaurant in the Obukhovsy Prospect, and as he was wondering how and why he had arrived there, he noticed Svidrigaylov sitting inside. Svidrigaylov saw Raskolnikov, too, and after evading him at first, he cheerfully invited Raskolnikov in.
Raskolnikov’s and Svidrigaylov’s impressions of each other—Svidrigaylov was being entertained by two young people, but with Raskolnikov’s arrival, he sent them away. Raskolnikov couldn’t help noticing in Svidrigaylov’s own behavior and the behavior of those around him that he had already carved out a place of importance for himself in the city, even if the pub was dingy. Raskolnikov was also still marveling at how and why he got there, especially since he never went that way. But Svidrigaylov reminded him that he had mentioned the place before as well as how to get there and when he frequented it. It didn’t surprise him that Raskolnikov didn’t remember it on a conscious level. To Svidrigaylov, St. Petersburg was full of semi-crazy individuals; and having observed Raskolnikov closely, he described his typical behavior after leaving his apartment for just twenty minutes—how it quickly deteriorated from an attitude of seeming confidence to dejection and insanity, the kind where a person talks to himself in the middle of the road.
Raskolnikov gets to the point—But Raskolnikov didn’t want to talk about himself. He wanted to know why Svidrigaylov wanted to avoid him at first. As he studied his face, he found something incongruous and disturbing in his relatively handsome, youthful looks; and he warned him that if he tried to force himself on his sister that he would not hesitate to kill him. Furthermore, if Svidrigaylov had any message for him, he should deliver it now. What, after all, was his interest in Raskolnikov?
Svidrigaylov reveals some things about himself—The conversation had taken various turns as each man tried to get straight answers out of the other. Sometimes they were direct with each other; at others, they seemed to be leading each other on. In answer to Raskolnikov’s last question, Svidrigaylov admitted some fascination with Raskolnikov’s dilemma, but his main interest had always been Dunya, who had spoken a great deal about her brother. Her love of her brother presented a potential form of leverage to Svidrigaylov. He also admitted to wanting to borrow something from Raskolnikov, but he wouldn’t say what. And he had hoped to hear something new from Raskolnikov, possibly to relieve his own boredom with life. He pointed out the dinginess of the tavern, his lack of appetite for the food, his low tolerance for drinking, which meant that it affected him quickly and that he needed only a little. Later, his mind flitted to the tediousness of his life, and he wished that there had been more to it—more excitement or usefulness. Between those thoughts, he had mentioned being in a strange mood and having to go somewhere, but he didn’t specify why or where.
Svidrigaylov’s interest in women—Raskolnikov tried to pinpoint what Svidrigaylov had done with his life, which, other than having been in the cavalry and a card shark at different times, had revolved mostly around women. There had been his marriage to Marfa Petrovna, but the kind of interest in women that drew him to St. Petersburg was of a more vibrant nature—possibly the only thing that ever held a continued draw in life. Raskolnikov was not of the same mind: to him, that same fire was a dangerous illness. Svidrigaylov agreed to some extent, but to him, the extreme things were what made this otherwise gray existence worthwhile, despite their danger and the consequent need for calculation to maintain balance. Without them, life might be so dull that a man might as well just shoot himself.
Svidrigaylov mentions his fear of death and how time is short—Raskolnikov wondered if Svidrigaylov had the mettle to actually do so. Here Svidrigaylov’s expression changed, and he looked troubled. He admitted to being weak and afraid of death, and he asked Raskolnikov to keep this topic of their conversation to himself. But he also mentioned having a mystical streak. Raskolnikov wondered if he was referring to seeing Marfa Petrovna’s ghost, but Svidrigaylov hadn’t seen her since his arrival in the city, and he preferred not to discuss it. He had stated earlier that time was running out, and now he repeated it and added that he regretted he wouldn’t be able to get to know Raskolnikov, with his high intelligence and ideals.
Svidrigaylov detains Raskolnikov to tell him how his sister tried to save him—Raskolnikov’s comfort zone had reached its limit, and he moved to go, but Svidrigaylov stopped him. Wouldn’t he stay just long enough for tea? Svidrigaylov would fill the time with the story of how Dunya had tried to save him.
Chapter 4
Svidrigaylov’s agreement with Marfa Petrovna—Svidrigaylov now recounted how he and Marfa Petrovna had established a marriage agreement after she rescued him from debtors’ jail. Svidrigaylov understood that his new, much older wife was both jealous and intelligent, so he bluntly informed her that there was no way he could be absolutely faithful to her. He was therefore allowed to sometimes eye the servants as long as he never truly fell in love, especially not with someone of the same class.
Dunya’s arrival in their lives—Because of Svidrigaylov’s character, Marfa Petrovna never considered this a serious danger, but then Dunya came to work there as a governess, and Marfa Petrovna’s jealousy got the better of her. This didn’t happen right away. According to Svidrigaylov, Marfa Petrovna herself was extremely taken by Dunya, while Svidrigaylov secretly considered hiring her a bad idea. So as Marfa Petrovna took this beautiful new member of their household into her confidence, which included telling her all the gossip about Svidrigaylov, Svidrigaylov studiously ignored the situation as much as possible.
Svidrigaylov’s story of his interaction with Dunya—In Svidrigaylov’s view, Dunya’s mistake was the classic error of a young, innocent woman—especially one who was passionate and self-sacrificing—namely, her desire to save him from his depravity. Marfa Petrovna’s stories about her husband had set the stage, but the real interaction between Dunya and Svidrigaylov started after he began molesting another servant girl. At that point, Dunya confronted him repeatedly to try to get him to change; but the only result was that Svidrigaylov fell wildly in love with her. When he started using flattery, a sure winner with even the purest of women, it had its effect on Dunya, too. But something in Svidrigaylov’s eyes—a fire that showed itself periodically—did not sit well with Dunya, and she grew to detest him. Finally, they separated. Svidrigaylov made fun of her and implied to Raskolnikov that he began molesting the servant girls again. But his passion for Dunya would not go away, and he wanted a make amends with her. In fact, by that point, he would have done anything for her, and realizing that she needed money for both herself and her family, he offered all of his. The idea was that in exchange they would flee to St. Petersburg together. He also planned to offer her his undying love, but before that could happen, Marfa Petrovna had orchestrated Dunya’s engagement to Luzhin.
Raskolnikov’s accuses Svidrigaylov of still harboring designs on his sister; Svidrigaylov explains that he’s engaged—With Svidrigaylov now obviously tipsy, Raskolnikov decided to make the most of the situation. He was sure Svidrigaylov had some nasty plans with regard to his sister, so he asked about them. Svidrigaylov was surprised at this suggestion as well as Raskolnikov’s insinuation that he should be fearful of him. In Svidrigaylov’s mind, Raskolnikov should fear him. He realized, though, that the wine was getting the better of him and that he was talking too much, so he ordered water from Philip, the servant, and tossed the wine bottle out onto the street. He then informed Raskolnikov that he had nothing to worry about in relation to his sister, since Svidrigaylov was engaged to be married, anyway. He had mentioned this before, but now it was settled. The marriage had been set up by Resslich, the woman with whom he was staying, who assumed Svidrigaylov would get tired of his teenage bride someday, at which point Resslich would implement her own plans for the girl. By now, Svidrigaylov had met his fiancée and her family, and he found himself taken with the girl’s innocence and passion. He had showered her with gifts, but she told him not to give her any more—that her sole desire was to give herself entirely to being the best wife she could be to him. Svidrigaylov spoke of how tempting the situation was, and he would have introduced Raskolnikov to his fiancée and family that day, had he not had something pressing to do in just a few minutes.
Raskolnikov’s confusion about Svidrigaylov’s character; another story by Svidrigaylov—
Raskolnikov was having trouble with the age difference between Svidrigaylov and his bride, and he could not reconcile it with Svidrigaylov’s kindness toward children. Svidrigaylov further told him how he had saved an innocent thirteen-year-old from mockery and torment and then helped her and her mother with French and dancing lessons. He had seen the poor girl being twirled around by a can-can expert in a seedy place. It was supposed to have been a dance, and the mother and daughter, who were new to the city, had been even more confused, thinking it was a dance class. In any case, Svidrigaylov rescued them from the dreadful situation, gave them a ride home, and was still helping them out. Again, he offered to introduce Raskolnikov except for some pressing business that day.
Raskolnikov follows Svidrigaylov out of the restaurant—Raskolnikov evidently did not believe his story and found it distasteful. At first, Svidrigaylov was amused by what he saw as Raskolnikov’s idealism, but as he listened further to his bitter opinions, he realized that they were more cynical in nature. However, it was clear that Svidrigaylov had other things on his mind. By now, his tipsiness was wearing off, and he had left the restaurant. But Raskolnikov had also noticed a worsening attitude on Svidrigaylov’s part, and he determined to follow him, even though Svidrigaylov had suggested that their paths should part at that point.
Chapter 5
Svidrigaylov questions Raskolnikov’s motives—Svidrigaylov was surprised to see Raskolnikov following him and asked why. Still sure that Svidrigaylov had designs on his sister, Raskolnikov said that he wanted to see for himself what Svidrigaylov was up to. Svidrigaylov was taken aback at first, but realizing that Raskolnikov was not to be put off, he gave in and took a friendlier approach.
Svidrigaylov updates Raskolnikov on Sonya’s doings—When Svidrigaylov explained that he would be spending the evening on the islands, Raskolnikov said that his real intention in going to his building was to apologize to Sonya for missing the funeral. Svidrigaylov informed him that Sonya was out visiting an important lady who was in charge of the orphanages where Katerina Ivanovna’s children would be staying. He had visited the lady to give her money for that purpose as well as for the orphanages, and he had told her Sonya’s story at the same time. Deeply impressed, the lady had asked to see Sonya.
Svidrigaylov brings up Raskolnikov’s secret—Until now, Svidrigaylov had deliberately not mentioned Raskolnikov’s secret, and he wondered if that was the source of his irritation and consternation. Raskolnikov was bothered by Svidrigaylov’s eavesdropping and accused him of making up the whole story; but Svidrigaylov caught him. How could eavesdropping be worse than gratuitous murder? Besides, he was more interested in Raskolnikov’s philosophy, which had clearly failed him. Svidrigaylov’s advice was that Raskolnikov should flee to America—he would even give him the money.
Raskolnikov falls for Svidrigaylov’s ruse—Having arrived at the building, Svidrigaylov deliberately pointed out how everything was just as he had predicted: Sonya was out; he was there merely to get money, of which he had plenty; and afterwards, he was heading to the islands. He even offered to take Raskolnikov along, but Raskolnikov had seen enough and declined. Svidrigaylov bothered him, and he couldn’t wait to get away, even if there was something interesting and incomprehensible about him. Little did Raskolnikov know once he was out of sight, Svidrigaylov would get out of the cab again.
Dunya notices her brother in a strange mood, then goes with Svidrigaylov—With Svidrigaylov presumably gone, Raskolnikov headed towards the bridge in a brooding mood. On the way, he passed his sister, who saw him, though he did not see her. Dunya was troubled to see her brother like that, but before she had decided what to do, she noticed Svidrigaylov motioning to her but also wanting to avoid Raskolnikov, so she headed over to meet him. She was clear with Svidrigaylov that she only wanted to talk with him on the street, but Svidrigaylov insisted that they go to his apartment. The topics to be discussed were not suitable for a public place, and there was something else, too, but that only revealed itself in an increasing excitement that Svidrigaylov managed to hide from Dunya. He had tried a number of manipulative techniques to get her to go, but only the insinuation that she was afraid of him worked, and she finally agreed.
Svidrigaylov prepares Dunya for the news about Raskolnikov—Svidrigaylov’s first move was to show Dunya the rooms between his and Sonya’s apartment, making sure that Dunya looked at them thoroughly, including the chair by the wall. Explaining that he had eavesdropped on two of Sonya and Raskolnikov’s long conversations, Svidrigaylov then led Dunya into his own apartment. Dunya was outwardly controlling herself, but the gleam in Svidrigaylov’s eyes was too reminiscent of former times, and she had an uneasy feeling.
Dunya confronts Svidrigaylov about the letter—In this uncomfortable situation, Dunya got right to the point: they had met to discuss Svidrigaylov’s letter intimating that Raskolnikov had committed a heinous crime, something Dunya refused to believe despite having heard similar rumors before. Svidrigaylov insisted that he overheard Raskolnikov’s own confession to Sonya, who was the only other person who knew and who would not betray him. Dunya still did not believe that it was in her brother’s character to either rob or kill; but Svidrigaylov explained that different people measured their acts by different standards, often justifying things that others found wrong. According to Svidrigaylov, Raskolnikov’s reasoning included his difficult circumstances, his desire to help his family, and an inadequate philosophical theory that ultimately led him astray. He explained that Raskolnikov’s theory categorized people into the masses and the heroes and that the heroes could step across conventional boundaries, even killing people with impunity if it served a larger cause. These people not only broke laws: they changed and even created them. But Raskolnikov, though gifted, concluded that he had not reached that status, and he suffered because of that. Dunya was disturbed at the notion that her brother could have no sense of morality, adding that she had read his article on his theories. Svidrigaylov countered that the seeds existed in the broadminded Russian mentality and that modern Russian ideas especially had no room for anything sacred. Unfortunately, few minds could handle that state. He added that he had not heard of Raskolnikov’s article but was interested.
Svidrigaylov tries to force himself on Dunya—Dunya rose to go speak to Sonya but quickly discovered that, contrary to what Svidrigaylov had told her earlier, Sonya was not likely to be home soon. She burst out that Svidrigaylov had lied to her about everything, but when she tried to leave, she found that Svidrigaylov had locked the door. His excuse was that they needed privacy and that she might endanger her brother if she acted indiscreetly. After all, the police were already after him. He started talking about saving Raskolnikov, but it depended on her. Svidrigaylov was now at Dunya’s feet, pleading his infinite, passionate love for her, his willingness to do all for her for as long as they lived. Now also in a frenzy, Dunya demanded immediate release. But Svidrigaylov told her that no one else was home and that he had locked all the doors to the other rooms and mislaid the key. Dunya accused him of using force, but Svidrigaylov replied that she couldn’t prove it. She might as well acquiesce so as not to put her brother in jeopardy.
Dunya pulls a gun on Svidrigaylov—It was now obvious to Dunya that Svidrigaylov was not changing his mind, and as he settled onto the sofa, she pulled out a gun. It was the same gun that Svidrigaylov had taught her to shoot with at Marfa Petrovna’s, and she announced that she would kill him if he tried anything.
Svidrigaylov was no longer sitting. The bravery he had so admired in Dunya earlier now made more sense to him. He appealed again to her desire to save her brother, but Dunya countered that Svidrigaylov was also a murderer—he had poisoned his wife. Svidrigaylov denied it but added that it would have been for Dunya’s sake, anyway. When Dunya said that she never loved him, he tried to remind her of a tender moment between them, but to Dunya, his speeches were all lies. As she stood there with the gun in her hand, Dunya looked more beautiful than ever to Svidrigaylov, and he approached her. Dunya fired, but the bullet only grazed Svidrigaylov’s head. He continued taunting her and came nearer. Dunya warned him again, but the gun misfired.
Dunya throws down the gun; Svidrigaylov realizes she will never love him and lets her go—By now, Svidrigaylov was within arm’s reach, but he did not seem to care about his life. He even waited for Dunya to reload the gun, but instead, she threw it down. Svidrigaylov was relieved, but his emotional state was dark. For a moment, he was able to put his arm around her, when she suddenly demanded that he let her go. Stunned, he asked if she loved him. The answer was a firm no—she would never love him. After a moment of inward striving, Svidrigaylov drew away, went to the window, then removed the key from his coat pocket and placed it on the table. He would not look at Dunya but ordered her to leave immediately. This she did, running as fast as she could once she got out.
Svidrigaylov retrieves the gun—Svidrigaylov was not quick to leave the window. Finally, he wiped the blood off his head. Then, seeing the gun on the floor, he picked it up, examined it for a moment, and realizing that it still had one shot remaining, he put it in his pocket and left the apartment.
Chapter 6
Svidrigaylov spends the evening out—Svidrigaylov spent the evening wandering from one pub or bordello to the next, listening to low-class entertainment and buying drinks for whomever he pleased. He himself had nothing to drink except tea, and he took no particular interest in that, either. Together with his companions for the evening, he finally ended up in a poor excuse for a “pleasure garden,” an outdoor entertainment venue with a bar, where at one point he was asked to mediate a silly brawl about a stolen teaspoon; but being barely able to understand what the brawlers were yelling about, he simply paid for the item and left at around ten. By then, the looming clouds had turned into a torrential thunderstorm with massive lightning strikes, and Svidrigaylov got soaked on his way home. Once home, he ripped up certain papers, grabbed his money, and without bothering to change his clothes (the weather made it pointless), he headed next door to Sonya’s.
Svidrigaylov gives Sonya 3000 rubles for Raskolnikov and herself—Sonya was tending to her landlord’s four children when Svidrigaylov arrived, but his mere appearance there frightened them, and they ran away. At his request, Sonya sat down next to him, shy as usual but ready to hear what he had to say. Svidrigaylov first asked about her meeting with the lady (without waiting for an answer), then confirmed that Sonya and her siblings were provided for and insisted that she take another 3000 rubles for herself. Sonya was grateful but resisted taking the additional money, so Svidrigaylov explained that it was indirectly for Raskolnikov. As Svidrigaylov saw it, Raskolnikov had two choices: to shoot himself in the head or to turn himself in and be sent to Siberia. He agreed with Sonya’s attempt to get Raskolnikov to confess, and if Raskolnikov made that choice, Svidrigaylov knew that Sonya would accompany him. In that case, and to pay back Katerina Ivanovna’s debts, Sonya would need the money. Svidrigaylov was also curious about why Sonya so readily took on other people’s problems—it was certainly not the way of the world. In any case, she was to say nothing about this final visit of Svidrigaylov’s or the money, which he advised her to give to Razumikhin to safeguard for her in the meantime, having sized him up as decent person. Svidrigaylov’s excuse for making all these arrangements and saying his final goodbyes was that he might be going to America, but Sonya was left with a sense of dread.
Svidrigaylov gives his fiancée 15,000 rubles as a “wedding present”—Svidrigaylov’s next stop was to so see his fiancée and her family on Vasilyevsky Island. The storm had not yet eased, and he arrived there still soaked and disheveled, which alarmed the parents at first, though the mother later explained his behavior as typical of wealthy eccentrics. It was already past eleven when he arrived, and his young fiancée was sleeping, but she got up to see him. Svidrigaylov informed her that he was leaving for a while on business and wanted to first give her 15,000 rubles as a little wedding present. That elicited excited amazement and gratitude from his fiancée and her family, but Svidrigaylov also noticed a troubled, questioning look on the young girl’s face.
Svidrigaylov checks in at a seedy hotel—By midnight, the rain had changed to wind, and Svidrigaylov was crossing the Little Neva River to Peterburgsky Island. It was cold and dark, and once there, he kept walking down the Bolshoy Prospect until he found a dingy hotel he remembered seeing before. The equally dingy waiter led him to the only remaining room—a cramped, filthy, makeshift room with old yellow wallpaper, where Svidrigaylov ordered some tea and veal from the few choices available. Next door, one man was berating another about his economic and social status, while the other listened without understanding. Svidrigaylov observed them for a while through a crack in the wall, then returned to his own bed.
Feverish memories—When the food arrived, Svidrigaylov’s immediate impulse was to hastily warm himself with the tea, but he had no appetite, so the veal just sat there. He felt himself getting a fever, so he removed his outer clothes and wrapped himself in the blanket. Outside, the wind was howling through the trees, a sound that, along with watery landscapes, made Svidrigaylov ill at ease. But it seemed strange to him that he should care on this night, when such things hardly mattered. He thought of Marfa Petrovna and how it would be a good time for her to appear to him, but he did not expect to see her just now. He thought of Raskolnikov and all the trouble he had created for himself; and he thought of Dunya and their last interaction. But he knew that he had to let go of these memories. What difference did any of it make now, anyway, even if Dunya had it in her power to change him?
Feverish dreams—Suddenly, he was distracted by the sensation of a mouse running up and down his body. This was no great surprise, since the room smelled of mice. Still cold and feverish, Svidrigaylov resisted removing the blanket, but when he finally shook it out, he saw a mouse on the sheet. He tried unsuccessfully to catch it, and after several more disconcerting sensations of a mouse on his body, he finally woke up to find him still in bed, with his blanket around him.
Reluctant to return to sleep, Svidrigaylov sat on his bed in the dark, his mind wandering from one thought to the next. Eventually, his mental imagery changed to flowers and a lovely country landscape with a beautifully furnished cottage. Outside were flower beds; inside, the stairs were lined with flower-filled vases—in fact, there were flowers everywhere, even on the balconies, and the overall effect was enchanting. But in the center of the upstairs room was a coffin surrounded by white silk and satin; and in the coffin was a child, a girl whose tortured, mournful expression did not match her youth. She was familiar to Svidrigaylov, as was her death—a suicide by drowning, brought on by the despair of a tormented, innocent soul.
Svidrigaylov rose and looked out the window into the blackness. Amidst the sound of the wind and rain, he could hear the booming of the cannon, the signal for flooding. By now it was three in the morning and soon would be dawn. It occurred to Svidrigaylov that he didn’t want to wait till then, that now would be the perfect time to head out. As he walked down the interminable hallway to find the waiter and pay his bill, he came across a frightened five-year-old girl sitting in a shadowy corner. She appeared to have broken something, and Svidrigaylov guessed that she was afraid of trouble from her mother. He brought her to his room, undressed her, wrapped her in the blanket, and watched her fall peacefully asleep. He had chided himself for getting involved, but then, before his eyes, she slowly transformed into a drunken French prostitute, cynical, mocking, laughing, and beckoning him to join her. Horrified and disgusted, he awoke to realize he had experienced a series of nightmares.
Svidrigaylov prepares to leave—By now, it was five in the morning, later than Svidrigaylov had intended. He dressed, loaded his gun, scribbled a note in his notebook, reviewed it, and absentmindedly tried to catch some flies that were milling about his unwanted meat. Eventually, he got up and left.
A short walk and an untimely end—It was foggy outside, and the streets were still deserted. Trying hard to forget his dream about the flood, Svidrigaylov focused intently on the rows of bright but dirty yellow houses and the shop signs. He passed a dog, a drunk, and finally came to a watchtower. An apathetic soldier was leaning on the nearby wall, and after they stared at each other a while, the soldier asked Svidrigaylov what he wanted and told him to go away. Svidrigaylov informed him that he was going to America. As he pulled out his revolver and aimed it at his own head, the soldier grasped what he was about to do, became increasingly wide-eyed, and started to object. But it was too late. Svidrigaylov had already shot himself.
Chapter 7
Raskolnikov visits his mother—At around 7 p.m., Raskolnikov headed over to see his mother and sister, still believing that neither knew of his crime. Dunya was out, but his mother greeted him with great joy despite his bedraggled, dirty appearance. As was her way, Pulkheria Alexandrovna talked on and on, explaining how happy she was to see her son. She had also learned not to judge him, no matter what others said or what she had read of his article, which she did not fully understand.
A mother’s faith—For a moment, Raskolnikov examined his article with some degree of excitement, but then he threw it down in disgust. His mother tried to encourage him, saying that his father had twice tried to submit items for publication and failed both times; but she was sure Rodya had it in him to be a great thinker and that in spite of his current situation, he could achieve anything and obtain all he needed through his abilities.
Raskolnikov asked again whether Dunya was home, but she wasn’t. In fact, she was often out, and Pulkheria Alexandrovna was aware that she had her own secrets, which she kept to herself. Regardless of that, his mother was glad to see him and would always be so whenever he could get the chance to visit them, even if that wasn’t often.
A mother’s intuition—Pulkheria Alexandrovna had been emotional throughout the visit, when she suddenly pulled herself together, realizing that she hadn’t even offered her son coffee. But Raskolnikov stopped her. He had not some to socialize but to tell her, once and for all, that he loved her. Pulkheria Alexandrovna knew immediately that something was deeply wrong; in fact, she had known it for some time, but now her feelings were confirmed. She had also overheard Dunya sleep talking, and though she didn’t understand it all, she knew that something was not right.
Raskolnikov made it clear that he was leaving that same day, that his destination was far away, and that his mother could not go with him. She would have gone without hesitation, bringing Dunya and even embracing Sonya as a member of the family and bringing her, too, since that seemed important to Raskolnikov; but it was not possible. All Raskolnikov wanted from her now were her prayers and her blessing, which she freely gave.
A final goodbye between mother and son—Raskolnikov and his mother held each other and wept, and Pulkheria Alexandrovna was glad to again see the personality she recognized as her son’s. And so they parted amid assurances that Raskolnikov would return again and with Pulkheria Alexandrovna carrying a mother’s heavy heart in her breast, knowing that her son was about to suffer greatly.
Raskolnikov finds Dunya waiting in his room—By now, Raskolnikov had grown impatient with his mother’s prolonged goodbye. He had a lot to do before going, and he hoped he would meet with no further distractions. But it was not be. Dunya was waiting for him in his room, and it was clear from her terrified, mournful expression that nothing about his situation was hidden from her anymore.
Raskolnikov’s decision—Dunya had first gone to Sonya’s, and together they had waited all day for Raskolnikov; but when he didn’t come, she finally went to his apartment. She wanted to know where he had been the whole night, and he explained that he had been out roaming around and had contemplated suicide many times. But something like pride—or at least the refusal to let himself be governed by shame—had stopped him, and he had reached a firm decision to turn himself in and accept his suffering.
Raskolnikov justification of his act—Yet despite Raskolnikov’s emotional conviction, his logical reasons for giving himself up were not clear to him. He could not bring himself to consider his act a crime. In his view, he had performed a service to humanity by killing a mean old woman who only used people. The difference between him and men who were labeled great and crowned for their bloody achievements was a matter of context. Had he slaughtered millions in a winning war, he would have earned the title of hero. And that was the other point: his own small deed was a botched attempt, not a well-executed success. Had it been successful, it would have been acceptable. But his failure and hesitation made him unequal to those with the power to transcend ordinary mediocrity. That was his real reason for turning himself in. Besides, as Porfiry had said, it might make things easier for him.
Parting words to his sister—Dunya was horrified by his thinking. To her, killing another person was simply wrong. But Raskolnikov insisted that it was a matter of context and not the act itself. Yet when he looked at his sister’s distressed face, he felt responsible for making Dunya and their mother unhappy. He tried to reassure her, begging forgiveness for any wrongdoing—if indeed it was that—and asking her to keep their mother company. He would do his best to be a man of honor; and he asked her to not cry, assuring her that they would see each other again.
Raskolnikov gives Dunya the picture of his late fiancée—Then suddenly remembering something, he retrieved a picture of his one-time fiancée, kissed it, and, giving it to his sister, explained who she was and how he had spoken to her alone about his plan, even though she hadn’t liked it. But none of that mattered now, since everything was about to change; yet he wondered if the suffering he was about to take on would do him any good.
A final parting—In spite of her brother’s ideas, Dunya loved him deeply, so it was natural for her to turn and look at him after they separated. Raskolnikov also turned to look at her for what would be the last time. But his primary feeling was annoyed impatience, and after motioning to her to leave, he suddenly turned a corner and was out of sight.
A firm decision amidst confused thoughts—Following that, he chided himself for being so mean, but he could not understand why anyone loved him. He certainly hadn’t earned it, and his life would have been so much easier without love—the whole complicated mess could have even been avoided. The worst thought was that he should stoop to the ideas of the common man—the despicable, self-righteous, conventional masses—and see himself as a criminal. Yet it seemed inevitable that eventually, after years of torture and suffering, he should abase himself before such people, though he still had no clear idea why all this was necessary. He only knew that he had made up his mind to turn himself in.
Chapter 8
Raskolnikov comes to Sonya for the cross—As mentioned earlier, Dunya and Sonya had waited for Raskolnikov all day until Dunya, thinking her brother was more likely to go home first, went to his apartment. Waiting together had comforted her and Sonya against the thought of Raskolnikov committing suicide, and they had become friends in the process. Dunya was further comforted to know that in Sonya her brother had a lifelong friend who would never desert him. But now, with Dunya gone, Sonya was at the point of despair when Raskolnikov finally arrived. He had come to accept the cross she had offered him some time earlier, though she quickly perceived that he was not in a good state of mind. His thoughts were bitter and scattered, and he knew it. He regretted his mean behavior towards Dunya at their final parting, but he also dreaded the stupid questions and gawking faces of the inferior people who would be hearing his confession. Still, his reason for being there was to accept his cross, symbolized by the wooden “peasant” cross that Sonya now placed around his neck at his request, while she took the copper one from Lizaveta for herself, also at his request.
Raskolnikov’s confusion and desire to be alone—Sonya was crying, which aggravated Raskolnikov, and again he wondered why anyone would bother to love him. Sonya wasn’t even family, yet she cared about him. Now she urged him to pray and make the sign of the cross, which he did. As she wrapped herself in her shawl, Raskolnikov realized that she meant to go with him, and he got annoyed again, insisted that she stay there, and left abruptly.
Once out on the street, Raskolnikov was again beset by confusion: Why had he gone to see Sonya? What had he wanted? Why did he leave her so abruptly without saying goodbye? Was he making the right move? His conclusions were just as confused—from the desire to witness human feeling and pain to an excuse to procrastinate. But his ultimate conclusion was that he who had once had the potential for greatness was now a mere worm.
As the crowd jostled around him, Raskolnikov took in the different sights and people, trying to make sense of it all from the vantage point of one who was about to be transported to Siberia. His mind still vacillated between a sense of superiority and a sense of weakness and wretchedness, and this disjointed sense of self made it impossible for him assess his relationship to the people and things around him. Mentally, it all seemed like nonsense; emotionally, he carried feelings of disdain for the masses of humanity. Above all, he wanted to be alone.
Raskolnikov kneels down and kisses the ground; he spots Sonya following him—Then he remembered what Sonya had said—how he should kneel down and confess his crime at the crossroads. So he knelt in the center of the Haymarket, and in that moment, all the hardness in his heart melted, and he broke down in a torrent of tears and kissed the ground. Passersby stopped and commented, some harsh or mocking, some more sympathetic. Their only effect on Raskolnikov was that he became too self-conscious to confess his murder in the open, so he continued on to the police station. In the meantime, he had noticed Sonya following him while being careful to remain inconspicuous, and he realized that she would indeed always be there with him.
Raskolnikov enters the police station—By now, Raskolnikov had arrived at the police station. As he climbed the three flights of stairs, he realized that there was still time to change his mind. Yet for all his fear, he had made his decision: he would go to Ilya Petrovich—the so-called “Squib”—the worst of the officials. After all, if he was to suffer, then why not suffer all the way?
Raskolnikov meets Ilya Petrovich, who suspects nothing—Raskolnikov had reached the office, which was relatively empty. Neither Zametov nor Nikodim Fomich was there, but as Raskolnikov was speaking to the receptionist, Ilya Petrovich suddenly appeared before him in a jocular and friendly mood. He, too, was there by pure chance, and the meeting seemed like destiny to Raskolnikov. Since his last meeting with Raskolnikov, Ilya Petrovich had changed his mind about him. He now believed him to be an eccentric scholar and intellectual, and he regretted having previously suspected him. By then, he had also met Raskolnikov’s charming, well-bred sister, who had added to his new idea of Raskolnikov as a gifted gentleman worthy of respect.
Raskolnikov learns of Svidrigaylov’s suicide and leaves the police station—Ilya Petrovich rambled on and on about all sorts of things, including Zametov’s recent transfer and rude behavior; the increase in nihilistic thinking in Russia; his own determination to be true to God and humanity in spite of his official police career; the increase in suicides, usually for economic reasons. In fact, there was that recent suicide … Ilya Petrovich couldn’t think of the name, but the answer came from a voice in the room next door: the name was Svidrigaylov. Raskolnikov was shocked—he had had no idea. He admitted to knowing him but knew nothing about the suicide. Ilya Petrovich informed him that Svidrigaylov had left a note saying that he was sane and that no one else should be held responsible. This news was too much for Raskolnikov, and he felt that he should go, his excuse being that he had only come to see Zametov. Still suspecting nothing, Ilya Petrovich bid him a warm goodbye.
Raskolnikov meets Sonya in the courtyard and returns to the station—Raskolnikov had paled at the mention of Svidrigaylov’s horrifying death. Now, confused and numb, he headed down the stairs and out into the courtyard. Everything seemed distant, blurred. Then he saw Sonya, also ashen and desperate. She made a gesture of exasperation, and Raskolnikov knew that he had to return upstairs to the station.
Raskolnikov makes his confession—Still not suspecting anything, Ilya Petrovich asked Raskolnikov whether he had left something behind. But Raskolnikov, who was now white as a sheet, could barely articulate anything. Concluding that he was unwell, Ilya Petrovich got him some water and a chair. Finally, Raskolnikov started to speak, first a phrase, then the full sentence admitting his crime. Immediately, a crowd of people gathered around them, and before Ilya Petrovich could say anything, Raskolnikov repeated his confession.
Epilogue
Chapter 1
An honest trial—A year and a half later, Raskolnikov was in prison in Siberia. By then, he had already served nine months following his trial and incarceration in St. Petersburg. The trial had gone smoothly. Raskolnikov had been completely cooperative, explaining everything accurately and in detail. Still, there were things that made no sense to the judges, such as why he hid the robbed goods and money under a stone and never returned to take them or even look to see how much money was in the purse. It was clear from this that his motives for the crime were not ordinary and that his mind was unstable. Fortunately for Raskolnikov, the plea of temporary insanity had come into fashion, and this seemed an appropriate case for it. This was strengthened by his ongoing hypochondria, his abject poverty, and his desire to help his family, which was in keeping with stories of other incidents where he had sacrificed his comfort and safety to help or save others—such as a poor student and his ill father, whom he helped and supported for many months, as well as two children he rescued from a burning building.
Pulkheria Alexandrovna’s illness and delirium---During the trial, Dunya and Razumikhin had moved Pulkheria Alexandrovna to a small town outside the city in order to shield her from any information that might leak out about her son’s real circumstances. Despite this and other orchestrated attempts by Razumikhin and Dunya to cover up the facts, Pulkheria Alexandrovna harbored her own notions about her son’s fate. At times, it seemed Raskolnikov’s mother knew more than Dunya and Razumikhin suspected at first, even though she said little and asked few questions. At other times, she had premonitions of both her son’s future greatness and his sufferings. But in Dunya and Razumikhin’s view, Pulkheria Alexandrovna was ill and delirious, sometimes lapsing into despondency when the reports about Raskolnikov made no sense to her, sometimes speaking endlessly of her strange visions of him.
The final sentence and goodbye—Raskolnikov did not receive his sentence until five months after the trial, and with all the information taken together, it amounted to a lighter term of only eight years in Siberia. Until that time, he had been held in a jail cell, where he had received steady visits from Razumikhin and Sonya. Dunya, too, was present to say goodbye to her brother, though she assured him that they would see each other again. To this end, Razumikhin was already making plans to move to Siberia within a few years so that they could all be together, although judging from Raskolnikov’s silent smile in reply to Razumikhin and Dunya’s assurances, he did not share their belief in this outcome. His final visits with them were taken up with concerns about his mother’s illness and an unhappy prognosis as to its outcome. As for Sonya, she had already made arrangements to follow him immediately, though he had hardly encouraged her during their visits, saying nothing at all.
Pulkheria Alexandrovna gets worse and dies—Following Dunya and Razumikhin’s wedding a couple of months later, Pulkheria Alexandrovna’s condition worsened. The wedding itself was a positive moment in her life, but Razumikhin had made the mistake of trying to calm her ongoing fears about Rodka by telling her the stories of how he rescued the children and helped the ailing man and his son. Pulkheria Alexandrovna was so taken by these stories that she told them to anyone who would listen, and Razumikhin and Dunya feared that this might endanger their attempts to hide the details of the trial and sentence, should anyone recognize Raskolnikov’s name. The final fever and illness came about after Pulkheria Alexandrovna, believing her son would be home soon, made thorough preparations for his arrival. The excitement proved to be too much, and following this last illness, Pulkheria Alexandrovna died.
Sonya acts as go-between—Sonya had been acting as the communications liaison between Raskolnikov and his sister and Razumikhin. Her updates on Raskolnikov, which she sent from Siberia every month, were strictly factual and extremely detailed. At first, Dunya and Razumikhin could have wished for a more personal approach, but they soon came to value the accuracy of Sonya’s communications. Sadly, the news of Raskolnikov’s state was not heartening. He never said much, his mood seemed unhappy, and he was indifferent to whatever news came his way. The word of his mother’s death was withheld from him for a long time, and though he had sometimes asked about her, even when his suspicions were confirmed, he did not show much emotion,.
Raskolnikov’s general state and its worsening—For all that, his general understanding of his situation was clear and solid, and while he lacked enthusiasm, he also did not complain despite the prison’s poor conditions. Sonya had meanwhile established herself in the village as a seamstress and even managed to influence the authorities to ease Raskolnikov’s burden (though she didn’t mention this in her letters). Raskolnikov, who disdained her at first, gradually came to value her visits in his sullen, silent way. But then Sonya wrote that things had worsened between Raskolnikov and the other prisoners and that he had become sick to the point of needing hospitalization.
Chapter 2
An unsettled mind—Raskolnikov’s illness had been brought on by a lack of peace, not because of the murder but because he still could not reconcile his views with the fate that had befallen him. On the level of practical reality, he accepted his lot: as harsh as his current conditions were, he did not mind them and was even grateful for some aspects, like the hard work that enabled a peaceful night’s sleep or the provision of suitable clothing. After all, he had been through worse. But philosophically, his verdict and punishment still seemed like nothing more than a compounding of errors. The same thought process that had troubled him for months, both before and after the murder, continued to trouble him now: the limitations of conventional law and morality, which judged things by context rather than absolute standards; his own clumsiness in bringing off his plan; his apathy towards life in general. He felt he had nothing to look forward to, yet he recognized that he had not chosen to commit suicide, even though he had contemplated it.
The gulf between Raskolnikov and the other prisoners—There was also the issue of the vast difference he saw between himself and the other prisoners. They loved life and yearned for little things that seemed meaningless to him: sunlight, grass, birdsong. Despite his disdain of mass stupidity, he did not look down on the lower-class inmates, like some other prisoners—political prisoners, for example—who held themselves superior. But he felt profoundly different from them, and they felt it, too. They mocked his crime, claiming that a gentleman should never have attempted an axe murder. And though Raskolnikov never spoke to them and paid little attention to his prison environment, his fellow prisoners deduced that he was an atheist, and they hated him for it, even attacking him with the intent to kill. Yet Raskolnikov took it calmly and did nothing to defend himself, and he was saved only by the intervention of a guard.
The prisoners’ love of Sonya—By contrast, all the prisoners loved, trusted, and respected Sonya for reasons that Raskolnikov could not understand. It was not an honor she had tried to earn, although she had done things for them sometimes, such as bringing baked goods for all the prisoners one Christmas. Other than that, she had initially not gone out of her way for them or tried to be especially nice, and they were also aware of her relationship to Raskolnikov. But their trust and respect for her came naturally (they even called her their “little mother”), and over time, she took on this trust in more practical ways, acting as a go-between for the prisoners and their families or responding when the prisoners came to her in sickness.
Raskolnikov’s feverish dreams—Raskolnikov’s inability to reconcile his thoughts thus resulted in a serious illness that made him feverish and delirious. This took place over Lent and through Easter, and during that time, he had strange dreams whose memory plagued him even afterwards. One that he recalled was of a worldwide plague that manifested as mass insanity and confusion: individuals to whole nations were convinced that they alone had the truth, with the result that no one could agree on anything and they all fought each other, even when they were supposed to be on the same side. It got so that everyone also scorned menial labor such as farm work and other “ordinary” jobs, so that food soon became scarce and things fell apart. The whole world was quickly turning into a hopeless war zone, and only a few pure souls, whose existence so far was a mere rumor, were fated to survive.
The slow and painful recognition of love through Sonya—Easter passed, and spring came, and Raskolnikov had nearly recovered from his illness. In all that time, Sonya had only been able to see him twice, though she had tried her best to bypass the strict prison rules. Even so, she often stood outside Raskolnikov’s hospital window in the prison yard, which was where Raskolnikov spotted her one evening. The sight of her pained him at first, but when she didn’t come, he found that he missed her; and on returning to the prison after his discharge, he discovered that she was sick, and he became worried. When she found out that he was troubled and had asked about her, she sent him a quick note to reassure him that it was just a cold and that she would soon be back; but this, too, caused him pain, as had so often happened when someone close to him had shown him love.
A vision of life in its pure simplicity—One day, Raskolnikov was sent with two other convicts to work the gypsum kiln by the riverbank. It was early morning, and Raskolnikov was taking a break away from the others as he sat and looked out across the river at the wide steppe dotted with distant nomad tents. The river formed the line of demarcation between the world of the prison and this other world that seemed so pure and free. There was a simplicity to the sunlit scene that reminded him of ancient times, when Abraham still roamed with his herds; and as Raskolnikov sat there in silence, a painful yearning arose in his soul.
A resurrection to new life through love—While Raskolnikov was engrossed in this scene, Sonya had crept up next to him. Her thin frame had dropped some weight, and she looked paler than usual, but she was happy to see him and offered him her hand, as was her habit. She always did this with a degree of shyness and doubt, just as he always responded with annoyance and hesitation as he placed his hand in hers.
But today was different. As they sat there silently holding hands while the guard looked the other way, Raskolnikov suddenly fell at Sonya’s feet, crying, his arms wound tightly around her knees. Frightened at first, Sonya quickly realized what it meant—that Raskolnikov loved her as endlessly as she loved him and that that love was lifting them into new life.
The redemption through spirit, the essence of life—Everything was changed now. Even the prisoners, who had hated Raskolnikov before, treated him differently. His whole past had been washed away and replaced by a sense of life and feeling so powerful that it made all his previous thought and experience void. None of it mattered anymore, even the murder.
Throughout this time, Sonya had never pushed religion on Raskolnikov, but now he remembered the New Testament she had silently given him, though only because he had requested it. It still lay beneath his pillow, and while he had not yet looked at it, the sudden hope came to him that his own thoughts and desires might be transformed to be like hers. Unbeknownst to him, he would still have to struggle greatly, but the happiness and love he now shared with Sonya would lighten the load and make the remaining term go by quickly. The important thing was that Raskolnikov had finally awoken to the profound essence of life, and that undying sense of life and love would now shape his future.
Bibliography
Dostoevsky, Fyodor. Crime and Punishment. Translated by Jessie Coulson. Introduction and notes by Richard Peace. Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 1998.
Lantz, Kenneth. The Dostoevsky Encyclopedia. Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 2004.