Crime and Punishment, Final Thoughts

(I shouldn’t have waited so long to do my blog. I’ve forgotten too much.)

I very much enjoyed reading Crime and Punishment, and while it did not make my Top Ten List, it is probably somewhere in my top twenty. I’ll re-read it eventually, but not in the near future. I enjoyed it much more than reading Don Quixote. I liked the complexity of the characters, the inner turmoil of Raskolnikov, the humor, the rambling monologues, the plot twists, the various stylistic devices, and the cliff-hanger endings of some of the chapters. In many ways, it was a typical Dostoevsky novel. Not that I am some kind of F.D. expert; it just reminds me of The Brothers Karamazov and from what I have read of the author, it seems illustrative of his writing style and thematic explorations. I remember liking Karamazov, though as one of his later novels, B.K. clearly has the advantage of a prose style that is more mature/refined/developed–whatever. Also, as my first Dostoevsky novel, it holds special places in my heart and my intellect.

In looking back on my comments, I see that many of my predictions came true to a certain extent. I don’t take too much credit for this, nor am I particularly disappointed: The novel is too much a part of the zeitgeist for me to have escaped any subliminal influences on plot elements; also, Dostoevsky’s story, characters, and writing style were compelling enough to maintain my interest throughout the novel.

Raskolnikov’s eventual redemption through religion was not a surprise, again, given Dostoevsky’s religious beliefs. I liked the way he didn’t end the novel with Raskolnikov’s confession. True, the confession ends the novel proper, but the Epilogue is such an essential part of the story (much as the Prologue and Epilogue are critical to Ralph Ellison’s Invisible Man) that it must be considered in order to provide full thematic closure. Although Raskolnikov endures hardships in prison, his material/corporeal punishment does not fully redeem him, nor can any amount thereof: He needs spiritual forgiveness as well, his resistance to which causes his fellow inmates to treat him with antagonism.

So ultimately, Raskolnikov really was trying to demonstrate his “extraordinariness” to the world. I said earlier that this idea did not make sense to me, and I stand by that conclusion. This, in my eyes, is the weakness–not “failing,” because in my view this novel in no way fails–of the novel. It’s weak because Raskolnikov’s article concerned “great” men, like Napoleon (to whom Raskolnikov compares himself several times), who committed lesser crimes while on their way toward achieving greatness. However, his contention in the article is that such men can be forgiven their lesser, incidental crimes because of the sheer magnitude of their exceptionality. Raskolnikov intentionally commits a crime before he does anything to make him worthy of extraordinariness. His conscience overcomes him; it is not that society cannot forgive his actions in light of his greatness. Raskolnikov’s double-murder is an end in itself, not a means to an end (his intentional crime juxtaposed with the incidental crimes of exceptional men), which makes him simply a criminal, in my eyes. Thus, in crafting Raskolnikov’s attempt–his “experiment”–part of Dostoevsky’s theme is doomed from the start because he committed a logical fallacy: faulty analogy. Therefore, I don’t buy Raskolnikov’s motive, although its originality goes far in winning me over. (It may seem that I am nitpicking, and perhaps I am. The novel is a masterwork, and when dealing with a text of such impressive scope and extraordinary depth of thought, all one is left with is a critique of thematic “shadings”.) Of course, it could be that Dostoevsky was trying to illustrate Raskolnikov's “ordinariness” through his mistake in logic, and I suppose that one would have a point. However, because of Raskolnikov's demonstrated intelligence throughout the novel, such an error in reasoning doesn't make sense. I think it is more likely that Dostoevsky is simply trying to explore the destructiveness of guilt and the power of redemption through religious faith.

Favorite scenes: the murder (of course), the first police station scene, the “interview” with Luzhin and Raskolnikov’s family, both conversations with Porfiry in the lawyer's office, Sonia’s reading of the “Lazarus miracle” to Raskolnikov, Marmeladov’s funeral dinner (both chapters), Raskolnikov’s confession to Sonia, Porfiry’s visit to Raskolnikov, the street scene just before Katerina Ivanovna kicks it, Dounia pulling a gun on Svidrigailov and actually firing it! Woman's got some guts!

Liked: Razumihin, Raskolnikov’s self-destructiveness, Dounia (a great, strong female character), Luzhin (but only because he’s such an ass), Porfiry. I liked Katerina Ivanovna, who died of consumption (and was herself “consumed” with the idea of her family’s pseudo-respectability) and was wacky enough in her interpretations of reality to simultaneously excite both pity and humor.

Didn’t like: All the fevers Raskolnikov endured, the numerous dreams, Sonia (too delicate), Zametov, Svidrigailov (I liked him at first, but he lost me after his discussion with Raskolnikov; I wish Dounia had killed the bastard in his room; I was glad when he shot himself), all the freakin' Russian name variations (sheesh!).

I’m forgetting something here. Raskolnikov was right about Sonia, and she about him. I thought his vacillation over whether to turn himself in at the end was believable and interesting, especially when he kissed the ground at the crossroads (how appropriately literary!). His actions were that much more meaningful since he had no idea Sonia was there watching him (thus, his actions weren’t “for show”). When he left the police station the first time in the last chapter, I thought he was going to wimp out and leave for good, then try to live with his guilt. One look at Sonia was all he needed to accept his punishment. She really was his redemption.