Crime and Punishment, Part Two

For me, Part Two developed in a structure similar to Part One: Somewhat slow beginning, then a very compelling ending. I am enjoying the writing style and I love to listen to the characters as they ramble on and on. Raskolnikov was starting to annoy me with the fever that composed most of his existence in Part Two, so I'm glad he seems to have shaken it.

His visit to the police station at the beginning of the section worried me at first, but then I realized that if he were busted for the crime, they would have sent officers to escort him: they wouldn’t have simply asked him to report to the station on his own. His behavior at the station was about as composed as it could have been, given that he had killed two people less than 24 hours before.

I was surprised at his visit to Razumihin directly afterward, but I think Dostoevsky was just trying to find a way to introduce the character, to pull him into the story. I must say, I like him better than Raskolnikov. Rodya (Fab) is brooding, self-absorbed and introverted; Razumihin (Berry) is much more outgoing, fun-loving, and gregarious. It’s a wonder they’re friends. The way he treats Nastasya, it’s a wonder she even comes to visit him. She probably has a crush on him or something.

The dream he had about the landlady getting beaten was realistically written: I thought it was really happening. I remember thinking, “Why the heck doesn’t he go help her?” Might have been interesting to have him open the door and find nothing rather than hear about it from Nastasya, but it may just serve – for her – as further verification of his fever.

Anyway, Raskolnikov seems to be exhibiting a great deal of self-destructive behaviors: He’s poor as a dirt farmer, yet he constantly gives away what little money he has (the street singer gets five copecks, Duclida the girl near the tavern gets fifteen and doesn’t even have to do anything, fifty copecks to the waiter for tea and vodka, plus freakin’ twenty roubles to the widow Ivanovna), he gives his doctor Zossimov reasons for suspicion, he almost dares the clerk Zametov to suspect him of the crime when he’s in the tavern, he nearly turns himself in to the cops soon after, AND he almost alienates his friend Razumihin despite his kindness. (Actually, because of it. I think he was just feeling guilty about the crime and didn’t feel he deserved any kindness from anyone.) If not for that old woman who jumped off the bridge (and Marmeladov), he might have ended it all right there.

I’m glad he found a sort of redemption in helping Marmeladov’s widow and family. They really appreciated his help, and the whole situation gave Raskolnikov a purpose to live. He recovered somewhat from his feverishness and seemed happy for once.

He’s going to have some explaining to do to his family, now that they’re here and he has mortally insulted his sister’s fiance. (Now THAT was funny!)

Crime and Punishment, Part One

So far, I’m enjoying Crime and Punishment much more than Don Quixote. The novel started slowly: the “experimental” visit to Alyona, the conversation with Marmeladov in the bar, the letter from his mother, and the adventure with the young drunken girl. But when Raskolinikov broke into the apartment in Chapter Seven, everything picked right up.

At first, I didn’t know why Dostoevsky included the conversation with Marmeladov and his prostitute daughter, but I figured there must be a reason for it. I came back to it later. When I was reading the letter from Raskolnikov’s mother, I thought, “Well, here’s the end of the novel. All his money problems are over, and now Alyona’s safe.” His reaction to the suitor surprised me, but then I immediately saw the connection between Sonia and Dounia, a connection which Raskolnikov must have seen even sooner and resented even more than I. Of course, he would oppose the marriage. Who would want their beloved younger sister whoring herself out in a loveless marriage for their benefit? His rantings as he walked down the street, while at first hardly coherent, soon seemed to make sense. His horse-dream, however, did not mean that much to me. I wonder, does it become more integrated into the plot later on? Does it have a symbolic significance to Raskolnikov that I cannot see? He killed the old woman – and her sister – but the old horse doesn’t represent her. The horse is seen as something to be pitied, while Alyona is unpleasant and almost deserving of death, at least according to the student in the bar whom Raskolnikov overheard.  Probably something to do with the social order.

I was surprised that Raskolnikov chose to use an axe to kill her, especially one that was stolen. Why make things even more difficult for yourself? It seemed to me that, with such an old woman, he would be better off just strangling her. Forensic evidence being what it was back then, it seems unlikely that his hands would have been matched up to the bruises on her throat, plus there would be no blood. I remember when I killed that old lady, I— Oops. Wait. Forget I said that.

I knew that he would encounter Lizaveta, even if he successfully killed Alyona. Would’ve been too easy otherwise. And I figured he would have to kill her, too. But I never anticipated the two visitors that would come to Alyona’s door. And the young one seemed so suspicious! He seemed to know, or at least guess, exactly what had happened. I figured there would be no way Raskolnikov could get away, but he got lucky. He seemed to get lucky many times as he committed his crime. I was surprised he was able to duck into the empty flat while the other men were investigating, but he seems charmed. The writing style was lively and made me want to jump ahead. Very compelling.

Toward the end of Chapter Six, Raskolnikov considers why so many criminals give themselves away by making mistakes. It seemed to me at the time that he would certainly overlook something and would make some grave mistake himself. You know: foreshadowing. But perhaps, since he seems so passionate and superstitious, he won’t make a mistake but he’ll think he will, and he’ll be so overcome with remorse and guilt that he’ll eventually give himself up even if he could get away with it. Hmm, we’ll see, I guess.

So. He seems to have gotten away with a double-murder. I want simultaneously for him to get busted and to get away with it. It took me a while to get myself on his side. It really wasn’t until the dream – maybe that was its purpose – until I really began to care for him and want him to be successful. It’s funny how we can be both attracted to, and repulsed by, such a vicious criminal. There’s a certain attractiveness we feel to criminals: their reasons for their crimes, their methods, the imbalance in their mental states, and the sheer interest we feel for their crimes. Who among us has no skeletons in their closets? Who among us has not committed even a small crime? We feel a moral superiority to one who commits such a violent crime, and perhaps a little gratitude that it is not we who are trying to avoid punishment for it. Still, as Bender points out in The Breakfast Club, being bad feels pretty good, even vicariously.

My guess is that his mother and sister will come to visit in Part Two and he’ll have to deal with them. One of the reasons he committed the crime – probably – will be so he can have some grounds for refusing to allow Dounia to marry. He was right when he mused earlier: who is he to refuse her marriage? Now at least, he can say that he doesn’t need the money. My prediction for Part Two is that it will end with some kind of encounter with police, a meeting with resultant bad feelings between Raskolnikov and Luzhin, and some amount of resentfulness among Raskolnikov’s family, centering around Raskolnikov’s reaction to Dounia’s marriage.

Knowing Dostoevsky, I am looking forward to a nice descent-into-madness with Raskolnikov. Two thumbs up for Part One.

Books: 2006

Like I've got the time to post! Anyway, here are the books I read in 2006 (in no particular order). Thanks to Molly C. for shaming me into reading these. I can't let some girl beat me!Ishmael by Daniel Quinn
Emma by Jane Austen
Don Quixote by Miguel de Cervantes
A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens
Gulliver's Travels by Jonathan Swift
The Iliad by Homer
The Odyssey by Homer
The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown
The Sound and the Fury by William Faulkner
The Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain
The Poetry Handbook by Mary Oliver
Teaching in the Block by Robert Canady
Essay on Man and Other Poems by Alexander Pope

By the way, I also learned to play the piano and wrote my own novel. So eat that, fellas!

Don Quixote - Summative Comments

I spent a large part of my summer -- pretty much all of July -- reading this novel. While it has stimulated my thinking and served as the catalyst for my bloggings, I must say that I am disappointed with the novel as a whole. Perhaps my hopes were set too high. After all, many critics place Cervantes among the top three writers of all time. That's a pretty high standard to meet, no matter who you are. For me, the novel lacked depth and consistency, was more sprawling than I care for, over-developed some themes, and plodded along like a broken-down mule in places. Not exactly what I would consider monumental.

On the flip side, the writing improved -- "matured" is a better word -- between the two parts, and Sancho Panza became a much more interesting character. The second half was more polished than the first, certainly, though it didn't really develop any new themes or provide a new perspective on themes developed in part one. I will remember some of the 400+ characters (Marcela, the duke and duchess, and of course Sancho and Quixote) as well as some of the stories and scenes (Quixote and Sancho vomiting in each other's faces, Sancho succumbing to the pressure in his bowels while standing next to Quixote, and Quixote's successful attack on the puppets), but largely I do not feel that my life was changed, nor my world-view dramatically altered after having read the book.

Rob points out that it is widely considered the first "novel," and as such Cervantes deserves kudos for attempting something so broad in scope when he had virtually no competition. Nowadays, authors must strive to be original in comparison to a few hundred years of literary history. Cervantes was original almost by definition, yet he still made his novel interesting in many creative ways. Overall, I am glad I read the novel, but I doubt very much if I will ever re-read it. I may seek some critical perspective on it to help enhance my understanding of its canonical prominence, however.

Probably the most enjoyable aspect of reading the novel was that I did so with two good friends. Their insights and comments have pushed me to consider the novel from a variety of perspectives and have ultimately helped me enjoy reading it. Honestly, if not for them, I would probably never have even picked it up much less finished it. Literary pursuits can be lonely: Reading is nearly always a solitary act, Italo Calvino notwithstanding. Discussing a work always yields both greater enjoyment and greater understanding, especially when that discussion involves experienced readers who care about literature.

Don Quixote's Knightly Purpose

I’ve long been ruminating on the theme of the novel and Quixote’s role in the fictional world in which the novel is set, so please forgive the verbosity of this posting. Berry mentioned that Quixote is on a quest for honor and glory, and though I partially agree, I think that this desire is more of a means to an end. Part 2 begins with a brief (for this novel, Quixote’s two-page paragraph is brief) discussion by Quixote in which he addresses the reasons for his adventuring interests. He says, “My only endeavor is to convince the world of the mistake it makes in not reviving in itself the happy time when the order of knight-errantry was in the field.” However, he continues by saying, “But our depraved age does not deserve to enjoy such a blessing as those ages enjoyed when knights-errant [performed their role].” Yet he still goes out on his often-dangerous adventures, bravely facing whatever threats he encounters, imagines, or creates. He has given up a life of relative luxury – he is a “don” after all – and undertaken a dangerous role for noble reasons. He can’t live in a world of “depravity,” so he’d rather invent a much more romantic and noble reality, even if it means suffering bodily for it. Dostoevsky talks about a similar concept in The Brothers Karamazov (I think Father Zosima gives the speech) when he discusses the benefits a life of asceticism has on the soul. Self-denial is, in some people’s opinion, the height of religious expression and fervor – and one cannot ignore or mitigate the impact of Christianity on the novel as a whole and all the characters therein. Therefore, Don Quixote’s delusions of his own knighthood – amusing as they are – are at the core born of his deep-seated religiosity, his selflessness, and his nobility. Since his perceptions of himself and, in some cases, of the world are flawed (self-delusional or not) and he is not often successful in improving the world around him (here, I am disagreeing with Berry who notes that other people become better in his presence – see below), he becomes a tragic hero.

One of the things I find myself disliking most about the story are the occasions when the people Quixote encounters take advantage of him or play jokes on him. Examples abound: The slew of people Quixote meets and travels with toward the end of Part 1, Samson Carrasco (though he got what he deserved), Sancho Panza (esp. the incident with the peasant “Dulcinea”), and the duke and duchess (who really ought to know better) and their servants. Such people, in the presence of Don Quixote (who is really adventuring on their behalf) become worse for their encounter with him. Another example of a person who does not improve as a result of an encounter with Don Quixote (at least, he has not yet shown improvement) was Gines de Pasamonte who, as a criminal, was freed from bondage by Don Quixote early in Part 1, then immediately lead the prisoners’ attack on Quixote and Panza. A couple days later, he stole Panza’s ass in the mountains. In Part 2, he shows up as a con man, trying to take advantage of Quixote’s pride (though, to his credit, Quixote resists this ploy) and bilking people out of their money. He doesn’t even get his just desserts, as Quixote pays him for inadvertently destroying his puppet show (hysterical scene, by the way). I hope we see more of the “Carrasco”-type scenes, where those who try to play on Quixote’s delusions are, at the very least, thwarted, if not punished for their actions.

I agree whole-heartedly with Berry, though, when he points out that at his core Quixote is really a good man doing good things to help others and that the world needs more of this. Again, in his speech in Part 2, Chapter 1 (this is really an awesome speech and illustrates the heart of the novel, if not the theme), Don Quixote decries the sloth, indolence, vice, arrogance, and materialism that exist in his world. We could issue that same indictment of our society today. Thus, the book instantly becomes timeless in this sense, for would our world not benefit from a revival of knight-errantry?