Classics and the Western Canon discussion
Dostoevsky, Crime and Punishment
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Part One, Chap 4-7
The first thing that struck me in chapter 4 was how modernist Dostoevsky's approach to narration was. We have a 3 page passage written in "stream of consciousness" narration, and in the first person, where we learn what R is thinking through his thoughts with no authorial interference.Then it switches back to 3rd person narration.
I can see why the modernist generation would so admire his writing.
This also made me think that the letter from his mother in chapter 3 could also be seen as a similar modernist approach.
Raskolnikov overhears a conversation in a bar about the detestable pawnbroker. One fellow applies the utilitarian argument (au courant in Britain at this time), "the greatest good for the greatest number," to murdering her and using her wealth to help the poor. His companion says, more or less, "Baloney, you'd never actually do such a thing, whatever the argument, so let's go shoot some pool." Thus Dostoevsky refutes utilitarianism.
I thought the dream (peasant killing the horse) aligned perfectly with R3's last thoughts at the end of chapter 2 -- that all humanity is scum and therefore nothing matters (my interpretation). Then we have the overheard conversation about the pawnbroker and the overheard conversation that Lizvetta (sp?) will not be with her sister in the morning hours of the next day. Until all three passages occur R3 is thinking to himself that he wouldn't actually go through with the murder. Then it changes. These passages combine with M's sad story to change his mind. But all of this "justification" has the feel of determinism about it, that R3 is caught up in events he cannot control. At least that's how I see it.
PS: I thought the Oliver Ready translation of the dream was powerful. I don't remember having that reaction when reading the Garnett translation.
I was taken aback by Lizvetta appearing at a most inopportune moment, and I'm wondering how this will change things. R can no longer justify his actions by claiming the pawnbroker was "evil." Wonder how that will mess with his mind? And is her appearance deterministic or chance?
I must say that I think I'll reread this part, as I think it is tricky to grasp everything even up to the point that it makes sense (or is that what D. is trying to do? get us in the same confused state of mind that R. apparently is in?)Upon first reading I noticed a couple of things: R. is rather convinced (or at least trying to convince himself) that he is able to plan and execute te perfect murder. He says that most murderers get caught because somehow in the moment they need to keep rational (i.e. the act of murdering another person and concealing it) they act irrational and thus leave ample evidence.
But R. doesn't seem to be able to keep his 'rational' mind at all: the murder is committed in a rather manic state of mind and pure out of coincidence he isn't detected.
Another point I noticed was that, although R. seems to believe in providence, the narrator seems to deny this. A couple of moments the narrator emphasizes R.'s believe in faith or determination, while claiming that the things that were happening weren't that weird at all and could all be purely coïncedental. Examples of this are the conversation in the tavern, where they talk about murdering the pawnbroker, and the conversation of Liseveta.
As I said, to fully grasp what D. is saying (if that is possible), I'll have to reread the piece.
Marieke wrote: "I must say that I think I'll reread this part, as I think it is tricky to grasp everything even up to the point that it makes sense (or is that what D. is trying to do? get us in the same confused ..."There are no simple answers here. We seem to have several feasible reasons for the murder, but they are ambiguous and they sometimes contradict each other. This whole section of the book bears careful re-reading just to see how D. weaves it together. I'm not sure myself how it holds together, but it does!
What is his mother conveying with her mention of "our most rising generation" that prompts R ask himself:But I should like to know why mother has written to me about ‘our most rising generation’? Simply as a descriptive touch, or with the idea of prepossessing me in favour of Mr. Luzhin? Oh, the cunning of them!
Roger wrote: "Thus Dostoevsky refutes utilitarianism."A utilitarian may argue that justification of murder would require uncommonly large benefits to sanction and outweigh the direct suffering of the victim(s), as well as the increase in the general anxiety and fear from the impact of ignoring basic human rights. Not to mention the anguish from personal guilt I am sure R will torment himself with for the rest of his days because his sporadic altruistic behavior proves he is no sociopath.
I have to say the dream is pretty powerful in the Garnett translation. In fact, it is a bit over the top, as in, manipulative.Very strange that when R. wakes up, he thinks, "Thank God that was only a dream!" It seems much more like a traumatic memory from childhood.
I listened to the audio of this section, and want to catch up to myself with the e-book, because I'm sure I missed some details.
I am wondering how this advice from his father in the dream will be revisited:“They are drunk. . . . They are brutal . . . it’s not our business!” said his father.Does R violate this advice by making it his business to help M's family and the little drunk girl?
David wrote: "“They are drunk. . . . They are brutal . . . it’s not our business!” said his father.Does R violate this advice by making it his business to help M's family and the little drunk girl? ..."
I don't know. The atmosphere of the two scenes are very different. In the dream the violence is savage and could easily spill over onto the father and son if either attempted to intervene. I thought what the father said was his way of keeping him and his son safe. I got no such feeling from the scene at M's home. That scene is over the top in a very different way: it's almost mocking and a bit comic -- a caricature.
I found the owner of the horse to be most disturbing. "My property!" he keeps saying. The grand excuse -- it's mine; I can do whatever I want with it. And no one does anything, but also no one leaves. And no one but the child is horrified. That may be what D. was going for -- no one is horrified but the child. Many people, little compassion.
David wrote: "Roger wrote: "Thus Dostoevsky refutes utilitarianism."A utilitarian may argue that justification of murder would require uncommonly large benefits to sanction and outweigh the direct suffering of..."
And Dostoevsky would say that regardless of the benefits, no just man would murder an innocent.
Christopher wrote: "I have to say the dream is pretty powerful in the Garnett translation. In fact, it is a bit over the top, as in, manipulative."I found the killing of the mare, another female, in the dream more graphically depicted and thus more disturbing than the murder of the old pawnbroker and her sister. I am not sure if I am supposed to feel that way or if I should seek counseling.
Roger wrote: "And Dostoevsky would say that regardless of the benefits, no just man would murder an innocent."Right. So the second thing we need to do after we invent a way time travel is to ask Dostoevsky for his response to the Trolley Problem. :)
I had read Part 1 a couple of years ago and I found the recounting of the killing of the mare if anything more disturbing this time. The inexorable torture of the animal almost made me abandon the book, so perturbing was it. The double murders shocked deeply, but they didn't evoke the same level of distress as the animal cruelty. So I agree with you, Christopher. Why though did he construe a pawnbroker to be so evil? Or was it simply that she was an unpleasant woman? And then the innocent victim - in the wrong place at the wrong time. It shows that R was only concerned with saving his own bacon. She couldn't bleat if she was dead.
David wrote: "Roger wrote: "And Dostoevsky would say that regardless of the benefits, no just man would murder an innocent."Right. So the second thing we need to do after we invent a way time travel is to ask ..."
Indeed I would love to hear Dostoevsky's thoughts on it!
Well, isn't the murder of the pawnbroker the whole "you can't make an omelette without breaking eggs" counter argument?You can break a lot of eggs and still not get an omelette.
It is a little odd that it is not R. who has the debate about whether the greater good would be served by killing the old lady and 'doing good' with her money, but two students in a bar, basically shooting the breeze.
To me, part one ends without it being at all clear not just why R. has taken this step, or done this thing, but why he even thinks about doing this thing.
As to why the dream goes on at great length, whereas the double ax murder is kind of sparsely related-- I think, no, homicide needs no embellishment or lingering poignant detail to be horrifying, whereas the horse dream.. hey, Dostoevsky is the peasant with the rod, and the reader is the poor horse, all right? (one way of looking at it...)
Note that Raskolnikov needs several blows with the blunt side of the ax for his first murder. The second is much quicker--one blow with the ax blade splits Lizaveta's skull. I bet a third would have been a snap.
Roger wrote: "To me, part one ends without it being at all clear not just why R. has taken this step, or done this thing, but why he even thinks about doing this thing."Here is what I have for motivation so far:
1. Superstition, coincidence, and a feeling of no choice?
But Raskolnikov had become superstitious of late. The traces of superstition remained in him long after, and were almost ineradicable.2. Unexplained dislike of the old pawnbroker
But why had he happened to hear such a discussion and such ideas at the very moment when his own brain was just conceiving . . . the very same ideas? And why, just at the moment when he had brought away the embryo of his idea from the old woman had he dropped at once upon a conversation about her? This coincidence always seemed strange to him. This trivial talk in a tavern had an immense influence on him in his later action; as though there had really been in it something preordained, some guiding hint. . . .
When he found the old woman he had felt an insurmountable repulsion for her at the first glance, though he knew nothing special about her.3. The old woman's money could be used for good.
4. A desire to "take action" and be a "single great man"
“Of course she does not deserve to live,” remarked the officer, “but there it is, it’s nature.” “Oh, well, brother, but we have to correct and direct nature, and, but for that, we should drown in an ocean of prejudice. But for that, there would never have been a single great man.5. The justice of doing it himself. The officer suggests that
“But I think, if you would not do it yourself, there’s no justice about it.6. But our biggest clue seems to be the hint of some traumatic event in his distant past.
So he tortured himself, fretting himself with such questions, and finding a kind of enjoyment in it. And yet all these questions were not new ones suddenly confronting him, they were old familiar aches. It was long since they had first begun to grip and rend his heart. Long, long ago his present anguish had its first beginnings; it had waxed and gathered strength, it had matured and concentrated, until it had taken the form of a fearful, frenzied and fantastic question, which tortured his heart and mind, clamouring insistently for an answer
Hilary wrote: "Sorry, I meant David not Christopher!"That's OK Hillary. I am mistaken for good people all the time.
David wrote: "What is his mother conveying with her mention of "our most rising generation" that prompts R ask himself:But I should like to know why mother has written to me about ‘our most rising generation’..."
The narrator characterizes the conversation between the student and the officer (the utilitarian argument overheard by Raskolnikov) as the "most usual kind of intellectual discussion among young people." The narrator notes that it was an amazing coincidence that Raskolnikov was thinking "these same ideas exactly" when he overheard the conversation. His mother knows her son a little.
Hilary wrote: "I had read Part 1 a couple of years ago and I found the recounting of the killing of the mare if anything more disturbing this time. The inexorable torture of the animal almost made me abandon the ..."I felt the same way. Part of it is that the scene is told through the eyes of a child who is completely helpless to do anything about the situation. What does it mean that Raskolnikov dreams of himself as a child here?
David wrote: "Here is what I have for motivation so far:1. Superstition, coincidence, and a feeling of no choice?..."
There's the practical element. R. needs money. He's probably too messed up in his mind to work for a third party, yet he wants to go back to school, owes people, and his sister is about to ruin her life for his sake. In his disheveled mind he's willing to murder to acquire money, which he thinks will make everything better.
Then there is, as David pointed out, the justification, this whole idea of no choice, determinism -- all choice is an illusion. How much easier is it for R. to murder if he believes he's a teleological tool of the universe rather than a moral agent? And this is what I think D. is exploring. Are we tools or are we moral agents?
There's also R.'s isolation. He's cordoned himself off from humanity. One common thread across cults is they keep their members isolated so groupthink prevails. R. is always alone with his thoughts with no one there to push back on those thoughts or at least question them. R. a cult of one.
I don't know if there is any significance to this, but there seems to be a lot of coincidences and “fortuitous” events in this section that conspire to help R commit the murder.He just happens to overhear Lizaveta set an appointment for the following day at 7:00, thus conveniently presenting him with a time when the pawnbroker would be alone.
Certainly, if he had to wait whole years for a suitable opportunity, he could not reckon on a more certain step towards the success of the plan than that which had just presented itself.
He just happens to overhear a conversation between a student and a young officer debating the merits of murdering the pawnbroker.
This trivial talk in a tavern had an immense influence on him in his later action; as though there had really been in it something preordained, some guiding hint….
Although he was unable to retrieve the axe from the landlady’s kitchen because of Nastasya’s presence, he is able to retrieve an axe from the porter’s room—the porter conveniently absent from his post.
As he approaches the gate to the pawnbroker’s home, a wagon of hay is driven up to the gate, completely screening him from view as he sneaks under the gateway. Also very convenient.
At that very moment, as though expressly for his benefit, a huge waggon of hay had just driven in at the gate, completely screening him as he passed under the gateway, and the waggon had scarcely had time to drive through into the yard, before he had slipped in a flash to the right.
After murdering the pawnbroker and her sister, he hears two men coming up the stairs. One of the men suspects something suspicious and decides to get the porter. The other man grows impatient and decides to abandon his post, conveniently enabling R to escape from the apartment. He hears them coming up the stairs and anticipates getting caught. Fortunately, the flat on the second floor where the painters had been working was now empty, the door wide open. All very convenient.
In one instant he had whisked in at the open door and hidden behind the wall and only in the nick of time; they had already reached the landing. Then they turned and went on up to the fourth floor, talking loudly. He waited, went out on tiptoe and ran down the stairs.
He is able to return the axe to the porter's home without getting caught.
But again the porter was not at home, and he succeeded in putting the axe back under the bench, and even covering it with the chunk of wood as before. He met no one, not a soul, afterwards on the way to his room; the landlady’s door was shut.
It seems to me to be too convenient and fortuitous—as if the universe is somehow conspiring to facilitate the murder and R’s escape from the crime scene.
I don’t know what to make of this. Are we supposed to think R is not to blame for the murder? That somehow circumstances/events led him to commit the murder of a defenseless old woman and her sister?
Raskolnikov wants to be a free and great man, but really he is tossed about by random circumstances. He wants to be free of religion, but he is still superstitious.
Cphe wrote: "Alyona Ivanovna does she prostitute out her half sister Lizaveta Ivanovna ?It says that Lizaveta was always with child and I wondered. Did anyone else see it that way?"
I wondered about that, too. But since there is no mention of her children, and since the student and officer speak well of Lizaveta, I thought it unlikely that she was a prostitute.
She is described as a large woman, so I figured they just confused her weight with pregnancy.
I recall in The Brothers Karamozov that men were led astray by their uncontrolled passions. In Crime and Punsishment R is obsessed with taking desperate action and M is possessed by a hopeless lack of interest in taking any action.
I agree with the above readers that the description of the killing of the horse was more disturbing than the two axe murders! Oh my! But I think part is because the horse was just trying to do (i.e. the impossible) what his master commanded but was unable albeit under great pressure and as a result there was a long period of abuse; the whipping of the eyes seems particularly unnecessary (as it all is, actually) but just seems to be to make it more gratuitously painful and drawn out. The length of the whipping and the surrounding encouragement and lack of compassion (beyond R as a boy) exacerbates the painful situation...whereas the two axe murders were quick and intended to kill as fast as possible as opposed to imposing pain. Perhaps those reasons (and the extra details provided re the horse execution) will help keep us from having to seek counseling, David? Lol. Yes, and R appears to self justify but it is the external circumstances (the coincidence resulting in superstitious interpretation of the same) that seem to give credence and approval of his thoughts/ plan.
Tamara wrote: "Cphe wrote: "Alyona Ivanovna does she prostitute out her half sister Lizaveta Ivanovna ?It says that Lizaveta was always with child and I wondered. Did anyone else see it that way?"
The passages below give the impression that Lizaveta was probably vulnerable to the men who would take advantage of her resulting in frequent pregnancies. However, if she was pregnant, we are not told if she gave birth to any children or told what happened to them if she did.
She was a single woman of about thirty-five, tall, clumsy, timid, submissive and almost idiotic. She was a complete slave and went in fear and trembling of her sister, who made her work day and night, and even beat her. . .I wonder if R would have committed his crimes if Lizaveta had children.
. . .But you say she is hideous?” observed the officer. “Yes, she is so dark-skinned and looks like a soldier dressed up, but you know she is not at all hideous. She has such a good-natured face and eyes. Strikingly so. And the proof of it is that lots of people are attracted by her. She is such a soft, gentle creature, ready to put up with anything, always willing, willing to do anything. And her smile is really very sweet."
Sue wrote: "I agree with the above readers that the description of the killing of the horse was more disturbing than that the two axe murders! Oh my! But I think part is because the horse was just trying to do..."If we conclude the murders of the old pawnbroker and Lizaveta were more "humane" than the killing of the mare in R's dream my question then becomes, does Dostoevsky do this for a purpose? He could have written them the other way around. Why would he want to make the human murders relatively less disturbing?
Tamara wrote: "It seems to me to be too convenient and fortuitous—as if the universe is somehow conspiring to facilitate the murder and R’s escape from the crime scene. "
This is a fascinating aspect of the story. It reminds me of the legal theory of entrapment. The basic theory (in American law, at least) is that a person can only be entrapped if he or she is not already inclined to commit the crime. (Proving this "inclination", or lack thereof, is a hazier matter.)
In this case, Raskolnikov is indeed inclined toward the committing the crime. He's like a car thief looking through a parking lot for a car with keys in the ignition. The universe conspires to facilitate the murders with these coincidences, but it doesn't entrap him. He was already inclined to the murder beforehand. But it raises the question -- what if these coincidences had not presented themselves? Would he have done it anyway?
Maybe this all leads back to Xan's question: is Raskolnikov a moral agent (a free man), or a tool?
After his dream, Raskolnikov is troubled and disgusted by the thought of bloodshed, but as he is crossing the bridge his mind clears and he "renounces" the dream. Then he declares "Freedom!" What is he declaring his freedom from??
Thomas wrote: "After his dream, Raskolnikov is troubled and disgusted by the thought of bloodshed, but as he is crossing the bridge his mind clears and he "renounces" the dream. Then he declares "Freedom!" What is he declaring his freedom from?? "I am guessing here, but I think he is proclaiming his freedom from the hopelessness of "victimhood". I am reminded of Tamara's post in the first section claiming Pytor is going for "power over" Dounia. Maybe R is going for "power over" others in a different way to take action and show he is not a victim and he has control over his own life.
"Thomas wrote: "After his dream, Raskolnikov is troubled and disgusted by the thought of bloodshed, but as he is crossing the bridge his mind clears and he "renounces" the dream. Then he declares "Freedom!" What is he declaring freedom from??..."I think he is declaring freedom from having any feelings. It's as if he is divorcing himself from feeling compassion for others.
I think the graphic description of the brutal treatment of the horse is included to show he felt compassion as a young child, but as an adult, he has experienced and witnessed such misery and so many illustrations of man's inhumanity to man (and woman) that he has become hardened.
He has become callous toward human suffering. It is only by freeing himself from feeling for others that he is able to commit the murders.
Just as an afterthought--R' declaration of 'freedom' reminds me of Lady Macbeth's 'unsex me' speech:Come, you spirits that assist murderous thoughts, make me less like a woman and more like a man, and fill me from head to toe with deadly cruelty! Thicken my blood and clog up my veins so I won’t feel remorse, so that no human compassion can stop my evil plan or prevent me from accomplishing it!
David wrote: "Sue wrote: "I agree with the above readers that the description of the killing of the horse was more disturbing than that the two axe murders! Oh my! But I think part is because the horse was just ..."The dream was a warning of the cruelty and violence that really go into a murder. Raskolnikov has to suppress that reality to carry out his act.
Roger wrote: "The dream was a warning of the cruelty and violence that really go into a murder. Raskolnikov has to suppress that reality to carry out his act."That makes sense. The dream was to prep R for his murder, and as you said previously it seemed easy for him. It is interesting that it was another man and not R himself that killed the mare in the dream.
I was coming at it from a reader's perspective and wondering why D made the human murders relatively more humane than the killing of the mare. After all, R, the murderer, is still considered the protagonist of the story so he must retain some sympathy and redeemability. It sounds twisted, but If it had been R that killed the mare, we might not be so willing to forgive him or accept his redemption.
Thomas wrote: "What is he declaring his freedom from??..."Great question. At this point I would say he's declaring his freedom from society's moral constraints, and he's chucking compassion over the side.
Which, if so, R. is exhibiting some of the characteristics of Nietzsche's superman. Nietzsche didn't propose his superman until after D. wrote C&P, and from what I've read there is no evidence D. knew of Nietzsche's philosophy, so this would be coincidence. Still, R. embodies rational thought taken to the extreme, devoid of compassion.
The pawnbroker is a miser, helps no one, and is cruel to her gentle and decent sister. She beats her (like the horse?). Who better to do away with. Does R. think he's making the world a little better and solving his mother's, sister's, and his financial problems at the same time?
This is why I wonder why D. complicated the murder by injecting Lizaveta into it. It's no longer easy for R. to justify his action. Lizaveta was one of the last people deserving of her end.
David wrote: "Roger wrote: "The dream was a warning of the cruelty and violence that really go into a murder. Raskolnikov has to suppress that reality to carry out his act."That makes sense. The dream was to p..."
My notion is that the dream was a warning away from the murder, which Raskolnikov suppressed in his own mind.
There is a strange dichotomy before the murder, though (end of Chapter 6), where Raskolnikov's urge to prove himself negates his free will."He was only a few steps from his house. He entered his room like a man condemned to death. He had not chosen and was not capable of choosing. Yet suddenly with all his being he felt that he no longer had any freedom of choice--that he had no alternative and that suddenly everything had been conclusively decided."
Xan Shadowflutter wrote: "The pawnbroker is a miser, helps no one, and is cruel to her gentle and decent sister. She beats her (like the horse?). Who better to do away with...."I have a bit of an issue here. I agree with you when you say she is a miser, helps no one, etc. But I draw the line there.
It's true she helps no one, but have we seen any evidence of anyone helping any woman so far? The women have to find a way to survive--whether it's by prostitution, sewing garments for pittances and being cheated out of their income (R's mother), being sexually harassed by a former employer (R's sister), or by preying on others' misfortunes as does the pawnbroker.
It's a cruel world for women and a struggle for them to survive. The pawnbroker earns a living by exploiting the misfortune of others. She is angry at the world and gives vent to her anger by taking it out on her sister. She is hard and cruel. But is she any worse than that disgusting man on the bridge leering at the young child who is too drunk to know what's happening? Is she any worse than whoever got the young girl drunk, did only goodness knows what to her, and then threw her out on the streets?
Oh shameful wretches, they won’t let me alone!” she said, waving her hand again. She walked quickly, though staggering as before. The dandy followed her, but along another avenue, keeping his eye on her.
Does the pawnbroker deserve to be murdered just because she is cruel and has to survive in a world that treats her with cruelty?
R feels no remorse when he murders her or Lizaveta. I think D juxtaposed the two murders to show that in R's mind, there is no difference between the cutthroat pawnbroker and her gentle sister. He feels no compassion for either one.
But just as Lizaveta did not deserve to die, neither did the old woman--regardless of how miserly and cruel she was
Thomas wrote: "After his dream, Raskolnikov is troubled and disgusted by the thought of bloodshed, but as he is crossing the bridge his mind clears"I think R is allergic to bridges. His mental state seems to do flip flops whenever he crosses one.
Tamara wrote: "But just as Lizaveta did not deserve to die, neither did the old woman--regardless of how miserly and cruel she was ..."What you say of women of the time period is true. You've pointed this out with several excellent examples, and it's certainly presented that way by D. But my post isn't about social injustice women of the time suffered under, nor am I being heartless about that suffering. My post is about what I think is going on in R's head, his justification for murdering the pawnbroker. The description of the pawnbroker I gave is from D's (and R's) descriptions of her, and I think it plays a central role in his justification if not his motivation.
Xan Shadowflutter wrote: "Tamara wrote: "But just as Lizaveta did not deserve to die, neither did the old woman--regardless of how miserly and cruel she was ..."What you say of women of the time period is true. You've poi..."
Understood. And thank you.
My apologies if I come across as being too strong in my posts. It's just that when I feel passionate about something, it tends to come across in my writing.
Xan Shadowflutter wrote: "The description of the pawnbroker I gave is from D's (and R's) descriptions of her, and I think it plays a central role in his justification if not his motivation. "I think that is what you call:
rationalization, noun
1. the action of attempting to explain or justify behavior or an attitude with logical reasons, even if these are not appropriate.
Xan Shadowflutter wrote: "Thomas wrote: "What is he declaring his freedom from??..."Great question. At this point I would say he's declaring his freedom from society's moral constraints, and he's chucking compassion over the side..."
I think so too, and the Nietzsche references make a lot of sense to me. (Nietzsche said somewhere that Dostoevsky was the only psychologist he had anything to learn from.)
R. is definitely throwing compassion overboard, as well as social constraints (the law against murder.) Maybe this is why he regrets his small acts of generosity and chivalry. He is not a materialist, so losing money is not the issue -- the money is merely symbolic. Generosity acknowledges a connection between the giver and the recipient, and R. seems bent on breaking that connection, perhaps because it impinges on his freedom. Empathy also acknowledges a connection, an emotional one that impinges on freedom in another way. Emotional connections to others must be severed if R. is going to be capable of murder.
Yes, certainly seems R does struggle between compassion and a fatalism of sorts. From helping the young drunk woman for a time until finally he changes his mind and instructs the policeman to let the stalker "have fun" to the dichotomy of his dream re the mare as compared to his daylight thoughts/plan, he struggles to justify to himself: perhaps he perceives the pawn woman as a symbol of his decline and her manner of distrust , likely born of past experiences, exacerbates such negative feelings as against her and so he wishes to eradicate it/her, but really to what end? Such justifications do not hold when the pawn woman's younger sister arrives as she is a relative "innocent". Regarding the question that R had long pondered regarding how crimes are solved, his answer was that such occurs when the criminal experiences at the moment of the crime a sort of failure of will and reason; such may come to haunt him as in relation to the sister's arrival/murder when there was likely such a failure at least as to reason and/or will (unless covering up his tracks/ no loose ends will suffice as such albeit unexpected).
Tamara wrote: "Xan Shadowflutter wrote: "The pawnbroker is a miser, helps no one, and is cruel to her gentle and decent sister. She beats her (like the horse?). Who better to do away with...."I have a bit of an..."
This is a good point you make here. I guess this is also what the rest of the book is about.
I do think this is has all to do with self-justification by R.. Several times it is recalled that with the pawnbrokers money he can do many good deeds. Especially because the pawnbroker declared in her will that the money should go to the monastery to pray for her soul.
This made me think about R.'s (or D.'s, we still have to find out) justification for the murder (i.e. with one death I can save many lives). Because when the money goes to the monastery, doesn't this mean that it will be put to the aid of the poor anyway? Or do I have a completely wrong idea of the Orthodox church?
In that case either D., in the person of R., is en passant criticizing the Orthodox Church (as they won't put the money to good use, or at least where it should go), or it is emphasized that R. tries to justify an egoistic deed.
Marieke wrote: "Especially because the pawnbroker declared in her will that the money should go to the monastery to pray for her soul...Marieke, you bring up a good point--one I hadn't thought of before.
The pawnbroker wants the money to go toward prayers to improve her situation in the afterlife. Maybe she does that because she doesn't think there is any hope for improvement in this life so why "waste" her money here?
It also suggests she recognizes her behavior in this life is problematic and, therefore, she needs prayers to redeem her soul in the afterlife.
Raskolnikov is firmly against Dunya’s sacrificing herself for him. Is this an expression of love for Dunya? Or is it something else?
When Raskolnikov considers how he can stop the marriage he thinks of what Marmeladov asked him: “Do you understand what it means when there is nowhere else to go?”
What is the connection? Is this leading up to the murder at the end of Part One?
Raskolnikov refuses to be the recipient of Dunya’s sacrifice, but as he is wandering down the street he plays the part of savior when he “rescues” a drunken girl from a “Svidrigailov.” After this has played out, he seems to regret it, and he certainly regrets the loss of his money (just as he did after leaving money with the Marmeladovs.) Why the regret?
Raskolnikov thinks about going to see his friend Razumikhin, but he feels increasingly ill. He imagines that a new course will be charted after that. But then he wonders if that will really be. He collapses on the grass and has a terrible dream about a peasant killing a horse. When he wakes up he immediately imagines the violence he is about to visit upon the pawnbroker and is revolted by it. But as he is crossing over the Neva he has a revelation of sorts.
“It was as if an abscess in his heart...had suddenly burst. Freedom! Freedom! He was now free of that spell, magic, sorcery...”
What does the narrator mean by this? What sort of freedom is this?
In the next chapter, the narrator relates a conversation Raskolnikov overheard the previous winter about the pawnbroker. An officer and a student make the claim that to murder the pawnbroker would be a sort of justice. Is Raskolnikov really inspired to murder by this conversation? Does justice, in Raskolnikov's mind, really play a role in the killing?
Leading up to the actual murder, the narrator describes repeatedly and in detail the deteriorated state of Raskolnikov’s physical and mental health. Is the murder a fully conscious decision?