My star rating is purely subjective and means only what GR says it means: I didn't like it. It didn't mean anything to me, sadly, and I didn't even find it to be an interesting story. I'm not saying it's a terrible book; in fact, I'd be very interested to hear what others think (reviews are a bit light for this book here I see).
First, I have a confession to make: I got two thirds of the way through and skimmed the rest. Well, worse than that: I flipped through and got the gist, but such is the My star rating is purely subjective and means only what GR says it means: I didn't like it. It didn't mean anything to me, sadly, and I didn't even find it to be an interesting story. I'm not saying it's a terrible book; in fact, I'd be very interested to hear what others think (reviews are a bit light for this book here I see).
First, I have a confession to make: I got two thirds of the way through and skimmed the rest. Well, worse than that: I flipped through and got the gist, but such is the way it's written you can't even skim. I just really had to put the book to rest, and it made me feel miserable thinking about making myself keep reading it. Reading should never make you miserable, so I did something I rarely ever do, and it nags at me but, well, there you have it.
The premise sounds interesting, and I had high hopes it would be one that would suck me in and captivate me. It's not that I had particularly high expectations - I didn't really have any expectations, though I thought it might be heavy on the intellectual side of things - but it was apparent from fairly early on that it wasn't going to be my kind of book.
It's Petersburg and a young student, Raskolnikov, is pawning his only valuables to an old crone, Alyona Ivanovna, who lives in a small apartment with her sister Lizaveta. He hasn't been able to afford to go to uni in several months, and his dress and manner makes him seem even lower class than he is. In desperation he hatches a plan to murder Alyona and rob her. He carries this out, killing not just her but her simple-minded sister who returns home unexpectedly, and in his fear and haste flees the scene with only some pawned trinkets and a small pouch.
His guilt manifests itself in fever and delirium, and he behaves very strangely thereafter. His friend and fellow student, Razumikhin, puts up with an awful lot and generously gives his time and efforts to help Raskolnikov; his mother, Pulcheria Alexandrovna and his sister, Dunechka, come to town to prepare for Dunya's marriage to an odious man; and Raskolnikov becomes somewhat obsessed with the family of a poor alcoholic who dies early on, in particular his eldest daughter Sonya, who had to become a prostitute in order to make some money for her family.
There's a lot of twoing and froing, a lot of agonising on Raskolnikov's part, and a lot of exclaiming. I wouldn't even have minded but Raskolnikov became such a bore, I didn't even want to slap, I just wanted to ignore him. It comes down mostly to the way it was written, which I didn't care for and which made the book a real slog.
I know this is some kind of work of genius, but if that's true, then I just felt stupid. It all seemed pretty obvious to me. No doubt if I made the effort I could see something special here, but it's like The Red and the Black - other people find the psychological melodrama truly fascinating, but to me, it's just melodrama, which I loathe. There's also no mystery, and not much suspense. There's a somewhat clever police inspector investigating the murder, but the game of cat-and-mouse the blurb enticed me with fell flat pretty quickly, and there was nothing left to hold me.
The blurb describes the book as "a preternaturally acute investigation of the forces that impel a man toward sin, suffering and grace." Uh huh. You can tell I'm really impressed can't you? It reads more like an account of a man going mad and being really self-centred, but after my sorry lack of appreciation for the equally masterful The Red and the Black, is it any surprise that I didn't like this book at all? If you're looking for a good story, this isn't it.
The book is excellent literature of the highest level and can still be read easily and easily. As usual with Dostoyevsky, the characters are shaken by great emotions, nobody stays calm. The account of the murder of the pawnbroker and her sister, as well as the interrogation of the shrewd policeman is among the highlights. The story takes surprising turns again and again. The descriptions Dostoevsky everything is simply incomparable. You are in the middle of history and everywher Schuld und Sühne"
The book is excellent literature of the highest level and can still be read easily and easily. As usual with Dostoyevsky, the characters are shaken by great emotions, nobody stays calm. The account of the murder of the pawnbroker and her sister, as well as the interrogation of the shrewd policeman is among the highlights. The story takes surprising turns again and again. The descriptions Dostoevsky everything is simply incomparable. You are in the middle of history and everywhere. Guilt and atonement is a very readable classic that lets you look deeply into the human abysses.
This book guilt and atonement is a psychological, philosophical, religious, and at the same time social. ...more
"Pain and suffering are always inevitable for a broad consciousness and a deep heart. Truly great men, I think, must feel great sorrow in this world."
In this review I focus on the theme of pain as a path toward personal growth and discovering one’s true identity. I dedicate it to my friend Jeffrey. At first we would just read each others’ reviews. It was a common painful experience that bought us together and let me get to know the fabulous person behind the written words. Thank you for being
In this review I focus on the theme of pain as a path toward personal growth and discovering one’s true identity. I dedicate it to my friend Jeffrey. At first we would just read each others’ reviews. It was a common painful experience that bought us together and let me get to know the fabulous person behind the written words. Thank you for being what you are, Jeffrey!
"If I am guilty, forgive me (though if I'm guilty, I cannot be forgiven)…I'll try to be both courageous and honest all my life, even though I'm a murderer. Perhaps you'll hear my name someday."
How much do we know of forgiveness? It is a thing universally spoken of, asked for, preached, aspired to, but do we actually know what it means? Can it be defined? And if so, is there anyone who has the right to define it and give it a universal meaning or is it something each of us needs to define for him/herself? Is forgiveness meant to erase the act? If so, then, indeed, nothing could ever be forgiven, because nothing can ever change the past, bring back the time, make you a different person, change the reality of who you are and what you have done. But if there is such thing as forgiveness, what does it mean? Does it mean to believe that the committer is not guilty, that they have done their best under their circumstances? But if there is no crime, then there is no need of forgiveness. Or is this it? To keep an open mind, to understand when and where judgement needs to be bestowed and when and where – withdrawn. Or is it to conceal, to hide your negative feelings toward them and act merely on your positive ones? But if so, wouldn’t that be a lie, a false forgiveness, a show? And if we let it all out, then wouldn’t we be condemning them, after all? Or maybe this is it. Along with the accusations to be able to show them some goodness, to remember that they are humans too. And what about when we have no positive feelings toward them and all we can see is a monster? And if we don’t let ourselves fall into lust for vengeance and let them go, or even, show them some goodness, despite the knowledge that they wouldn’t do the same for us? Would that be forgiveness? And if the wound is healed? Does our overcoming the hurt automatically bestow forgiveness on the committer? And how would they feel? If the pain is gone, does that release us from responsibility? If the victim ceases to be a victim, does the criminal cease to be a criminal? If those whom we have hurt can make peace with what we have done, can we? Which is the harder forgiveness? The one we need to bestow on others or on ourselves? Do we truly believe in forgiveness when we speak of it? Can a wound really be overcome? My friend Jeffrey told me once that we don’t get over things. That the best we could hope for is to find a place for them somewhere within us and carry them in a way that wouldn’t paralyse us and that would let us keep going despite the pain. And I said to him that if we were able to have everything we needed, we would have been able to get over things. But due to life’s nature, there is always more that needs to be overcome. If it is true that we never get over things, then it is because there are always new ones piling on top of the old ones. Also, what happens when there is not enough left of us to be healed? In Fugitive Pieces it is said:
”Nothing erases the immoral act. Not forgiveness. Not confession. And even if an act could be forgiven, no one could bear the responsibility of forgiveness on behalf of the dead. No act of violence is ever resolved. When the one who can forgive can no longer speak, there is only silence.”
Whatever the truth, I believe that forgiveness, whenever possible and with its different faces, helps us in our sorrow, in our need, our humiliation and anger. Raskolnikov’s family and friends presented to me a truly profound from of forgiveness. They don't conceal their feelings and their belief that what he has done is unacceptable, incomprehensible, cruel act. Yet, they do so without assuming lofty position, without anger, without judgement, without coldness, without contempt. They choose to treat the criminal as an equal, as a victim in need of help, as a loved one. But can a criminal be a victim at the same time? Those are the biggest victims. Victims of themselves, of their inability to rise above and believe. But is it so easy to determine the nature of a crime? It is usually seen as a harmful to others deed. But I don’t believe that things are simply right and wrong. Not everything that isn’t wrong is right, and not everything that isn’t right is wrong. I believe in gray areas.
“You shed blood!” “Which everyone sheds, which is and always has been shed in torrents in this world, which men spill like champagne, and for which they're crowned on the Capitoline and afterwards called benefactors of mankind…if I'd succeeded, I'd have been crowned, but now I'm walking into the trap!”
We tend to see people who bring down oppressors, dictators, tyrants, as heroes, revolutionaries. And this is how Raskolnikov sees himself. It is his personal rebellion against an oppressor. Oppressor who consists of more than an old pawnbroker. To him she is part of a decease that the world is rife with. She is no a single tyrant holding a whole city or nation in her fist, but sometimes the face of evil, the oppression is not just one person, but many. To him she is part of a society that needs to be brought down in order for new, better breed of people, compassionate, altruistic people, to come and rule. To come and make the important decisions. And he thinks that if he can't defeat the system, he can at least weaken it by destroying one of its members, the harsh, uncaring old woman, and add the acquired from her to the good society, to those in need. And he also sacrifices an innocent woman in order to protect himself and his plan. And the pawnbroker herself? I don’t think he sees her in this horrible light because she doesn't want to relieve him a little bit of his debt. Or at least not mainly because of that. I think he sees her this way mostly because there is no compassion in her refusal, no understanding. There are those who make hard decisions and hurt other people but are hurting while doing so and are sorry for that they need to do it. This woman shows no compassion, no regret. And it is this most of all that drives him over the edge. I believe it is essential to show compassion toward those we hurt. Even when we think they deserve it, even when we feel we have no other choice. Raskolnikov kills her. And kills her sister. He believes that sometimes it is acceptable for an "exceptional" human to sacrifice an "ordinary" one in the name of the greater good. I cannot see him as simply a criminal, or simply a victim. I can neither oppose, nor side with his philosophy. All is quite relevant. I can talk of this situation. Do I see the murder of the two women as justified act? No. Yet, I can’t help but feeling more sorry for the murderer than the victims. Raskolnikov has a truly exceptional mind that, unfortunately, proves to be a knife with two blades. Sofia Simeonovna asks him:
He is one of those with whom the good and the bad come from the same place. His passion, his broad consciousness lead him to both great good and great cruelty. For some reason it just goes both ways. His victims lack the capacity for such a crime, but they also lack the capacity for the good he is capable of. He is a deep, very deep person, but he doesn’t possess the necessary to bear this depth. It is marvellous to possess such a wealth of profundity and passion, but only when you have the means to channel them the right way. Sometimes the best of us is the worst in someone else. There are those of us who lack the necessary substance to bear their gifts with dignity, integrity, passion, and therefore their depth, their brilliance is a murder. They incite them to believes and actions that are far beyond our and their own comprehension. Only a healthy spirit can bear the weight of a large intelligence. As Raskolnikov himself points out, ”it takes something more than intelligence to act intelligently”. I keep asking myself why our human complexity results into violence, sadism, cruelty, and not in beauty, nobleness, desire. It is our birthright and obligation to be more than what nature has bestowed on us. Technically, biologically, we are no more than animals, part of the big chain, but inwardly we are something else. Something exceptional, spectacular, breathtaking. We are strong and beautiful in our intricacy, but cruel and weak in our inability to bear it, to recognize it, to give in to it. The beauty of the human heart and mind is always dual, deadly and life-giving, poisonous and healing, grand and small. And it is there that lays the biggest mystery. For it is pain and suffering that the most beautiful creations are based on. It is pain that forces us to grow, to develop, it is pain that reveals to us our most amazing qualities, our deepest beauty, our profoundest selves. It is there that lays the irony, the paradox. Our highest cannot exist without our lowest. As said in ”An Unnecessary Woman”, ”Peaks cannot exist without valleys.”. I think it is rather notable that after having murdered two women and being incarcerated for it, Raskolnikov is actually more at peace with himself than at the beginning. The pain he goes through changes him. He might have commits his crime only once, but in his mind many times before that. Subconsciously, but still, the thoughts, the feelings that lead to it in the end have been part of him always. And after finally getting to it, he changes.
"In torment he asked himself this question, and could not understand that even then, when he was standing over the river, he may have sensed a profound lie in himself and in his convictions. He did not understand that this sense might herald a future break in his life, his future resurrection, his future new vision of life."
Sometimes there is no other way than through our own destruction and the one of others for us to come to realize our truth. In Raskolnikov’s case the cost he pays for his personal growth are the lives of two human beings and the suffering of all those who love him. Yet, in the end he does find peace. A peace he has never known before. Because it is one thing to imagine and think of something. It’s another to face it. Only when he truly faces his convictions, by actually acting on them, he realizes their true nature. Some I used to know told me they felt his remorse was self-serving. But does the suffering make the remorse more real, worthier? Isn’t it the inner change that is most important, the decision to be a different person? Desperation drives Raskolnikov toward his crime and had he stayed in this abyss of guilt and darkness, maybe he would have gone down the same road eventually. Yet, he manages to realize the error of his ways and make peace with what he has done, and this saves him and those around him. I believe, though, that personal growth can be achieved without a crime, without a downfall, without taking others’ lives and happiness away. I have always believed that, when it comes to personal growth, deep reading and writing are the best alternative to pain and suffering. Long live great literature.
P.S. I would also like to thank my friend Sidharth who really does understand and appreciate the connection between beauty and pain and whose words about it were a part of what inspired me to write this. Thank you, Sidharth. You are a very wise young man. :)
If I were not to be a reader, would’ve not known the places I’m never been to, nor the people I’ve never met, it is only when we identify with another soul, we come to know our own, our caged beings are feathered and our little brains expanded as we glide over infinity other worlds so different from ours and yet alike. I’ve been sleeping with a murderer for last fortnight, in long dark hours I’ve been an intent listener and an ardent lover, to be in mind of a murderer is not a very safe port to If I were not to be a reader, would’ve not known the places I’m never been to, nor the people I’ve never met, it is only when we identify with another soul, we come to know our own, our caged beings are feathered and our little brains expanded as we glide over infinity other worlds so different from ours and yet alike. I’ve been sleeping with a murderer for last fortnight, in long dark hours I’ve been an intent listener and an ardent lover, to be in mind of a murderer is not a very safe port to be, Dostoevsky makes his readers suffer by the same excruciating pain as his characters experience in their doomed state, the never-ending battle of right from wrong, reality from delusion, mental stability from confusion and crime from confession leaves us exasperated and in awe of such nerve wrenching tale which with every turn of page leaves us in midcoitus just the moment we thought we had it all, in us. As life tells us he did so, it’s only through a book we realize the “why” of it, and it is the time we become lovers of murderers.
Stricken by poverty and dogged to change his doom, Raskolnikov regards the idea of robbing an old pawnbroker on his way back to the closet apartment he resides as paying guest. The subject is very simple. A man conceives the idea of committing a crime; he matures it, commits the deed, and so the punishment starts, the flash back of the scene plays in the screen of his mind, he is tortured by his own self, he wants it to end, considers confessing his crime before the authorities, and yet finds no courage to do that, in the long run goes to police, states his crime and is sent to Siberia. If it could only be that simple! Raskolnikov is the student of law and a self-acclaimed revolutionary, a nihilist to the boots, intelligent, unprincipled, unscrupulous, reduced to extreme poverty, decides to take matters in his hands for once, for him world is crowded with two kinds of people, the one who act and are named in history, like Napoleon, for whom the smaller crime done to accomplish bigger aims is defensible and even requisite, Raskolnikov strive to be the one.
“Pain and suffering are always inevitable for a large intelligence and a deep heart. The really great men must, I think, have great sadness on earth.” And there is no greater grief than to be the torture cell of one’s own thoughts, no greater agony than to ablaze in uncertainty at the point of insanity, Raskolnikov’s punishment started the day he seeped in him the idea of crime, suffering never brings atonement, as Dostoevsky tried to preach, but more suffering.
Other plot threads weave the whole picture of Russia of the time, when one with three times a bite of bread was considered lucky, the time when women were either domestic hags or harlots, the time when everyone talked too much, spanned over hundreds of pages the talk of no consequence, the time when Russia had witty officers in police, who used to hunt down criminals like a tiger and yet waited for his surrender, and the time when people killed just to see if their theories were in alignment with reality. Dostoevsky had witnessed death with his bare eyes, as he faced the firing squad in St.Petersburg and was spared at the last moment, and the way he rips off the layers of human mind, lays us naked before us and the whole world to view, is of no surprise!! ...more
I have few Dostoevsky fans in my friends list so my opinions here might not go over so well. I have been wanting to read this classic for a while and I had high expectations, but they were not met. I liked it okay but I found it to be a bit slow and drawn out. Ultimately not a whole lot happens in the story, but it takes 500 pages to get there. In fact, there are probably as many plot points in the 15 page epilogue as in the rest of the book.
However, despite this, I can say that parts of the jou I have few Dostoevsky fans in my friends list so my opinions here might not go over so well. I have been wanting to read this classic for a while and I had high expectations, but they were not met. I liked it okay but I found it to be a bit slow and drawn out. Ultimately not a whole lot happens in the story, but it takes 500 pages to get there. In fact, there are probably as many plot points in the 15 page epilogue as in the rest of the book.
However, despite this, I can say that parts of the journey were pretty good. Every few chapters there would be a high intensity event that would draw me in. In fact, if you graphed this book out with the high points followed by long lulls, it would probably look like an EKG.
Also, it was interesting to take in the classic Russian writing. Whether or not it was always super exciting, I did enjoy the feel of the narrative from the classic Russian perspective.
In summary, I would not recommend this as highly as some other classics, but if you are hardcore into completing your classic reading list, you can't miss this one. ...more
I first read this book in high school and it blew my conceptions of literature away every bit as much as Light in August and One Hundred Years of Solitude. The first use of stream of consciousness, the deep analysis of Raskolnikov's conscience, the extraordinary plot movement and violence, the perfect narrative viewpoint...everything about this book is near perfection and at the highest level of literary achievement. For me the two Dostoyevsky books to read if you are to read any are this one an I first read this book in high school and it blew my conceptions of literature away every bit as much as Light in August and One Hundred Years of Solitude. The first use of stream of consciousness, the deep analysis of Raskolnikov's conscience, the extraordinary plot movement and violence, the perfect narrative viewpoint...everything about this book is near perfection and at the highest level of literary achievement. For me the two Dostoyevsky books to read if you are to read any are this one and Brothers Karamazov. If not for all the universal themes addressed and the vividly depicted characters, then for the incredible prose and in-depth character analysis. I don't think I will ever fully sound the depths of Crime and Punishment.
I have read it in two English translations and one French translation. I would recommend that Folio version in French and the Oliver Ready translation in English. ...more
--Damn! I felt Raskolnikov's anxiety. I resented his mother when he did and I loved her when he did. I felt sick at the thought of Luzhin or Svidrigailov getting their hooks in dear Dunya (shout out to Dunya!) I wanted Porfiry to just accuse him, already! I guess I'm saying that Dostoevsky managed to make a very real character that I believed enough to mentally and physically align myself with while reading. This is what ultimately kept me turning the Oh, Rasky!!!!!!!! You idiot.
--Damn! I felt Raskolnikov's anxiety. I resented his mother when he did and I loved her when he did. I felt sick at the thought of Luzhin or Svidrigailov getting their hooks in dear Dunya (shout out to Dunya!) I wanted Porfiry to just accuse him, already! I guess I'm saying that Dostoevsky managed to make a very real character that I believed enough to mentally and physically align myself with while reading. This is what ultimately kept me turning the pages.
--I find it a miracle that I liked Raskolnikov. His personality--at least that suggested in the character's essay On Crime--isn't one that I tend to sympathize with. The scholar who thinks he's a super-human and therefore above or aside from others is someone who I want to punch in the nuts, normally. A complete lack of humility is not sexy. I liked him, anyway. I think we weren't seeing him at his finest, and the way that Dunya and his mother and that swell chap Razumikhin loved him suggested so.
--What was up with Sonya? Why was she so good? Why did she love him and follow him to Siberia? DANG! I've always had a soft spot for the wounded and/or pathetic men of the world, so I'm familiar with this theme, but still. But still. STILL, goodreaders! How could Sonya be that good?
--Speaking of o_O, what was up with all the madness and dizziness and delirium in this book?! I've known people in pretty distressing situations and tragic despair...and they didn't immediately get a fever. Was there some sort of Russian virus that lay dormant until stress levels rose? There must've been because it sent Raskol into delirium where he shouted out murder clues in his sleep, killed Katerina Ivanovna (though, to be fair, she was dying, anyway), caused Dunya to betray her brother to her mother while sleeping ("She was raving!") and then finally killed his poor mother after a few years of being batshit. O_o?
--I find Dostoevsky's personal story, weaved in with Raskolnikov's, to be very interesting, and I appreciated the translator's endnotes that helped me piece these together. I would like to read more about him before reading "Notes from Underground."
--My favorite moment was when he was serving hard time and realized he loved Sonya. Maybe this makes me a sap, but it was such a relief to know that he could feel, again. The other prisoners hated him less after that, which makes all the sense in the world.