Part One, Chap 4-7

[Chris]

This has just been a stressful week for me, so I haven't read the comments yet on this section. But wanted to pop in to say OMG I had such a visceral reaction to the dream!! I was physically nauseated at the description and yes, I cried, even though I knew deep down somewhere that it was just most likely symbolic of events to come ( but hopefully not in such a prolonged & tortuous manner). I was saying "Stop, stop!!" over & over in my brain.

[Xan]

The problem with assessing the pawnbroker's motives is we know precious little about her. We never get to listen in on her thoughts or hear anything she says. Everything we know is seen or heard through others.

We have R's own muddled thoughts that are probably filtered through an angry, conflicted POV, and overheard conversations that amount to nothing more than gossip. The only testimony I could give is she is wary and perhaps scared, a reasonable state of mind given her clientele, mostly men in desperate need of money. We don't even know if any such thing is in her will.

Then there is her profession. The pawnbroker earns interest off those who can least afford to pay it. Not someone you send thank you notes to.

I wonder now that R has acted if we won't learn another side of her? Usually there is another side.

[Lily]

"...compassion is forbidden nowadays by science itself, and that that’s what is done now in England,..."

Dostoyevsky, Fyodor. Crime And Punishment (p. 9). HarperCollins Canada. Kindle Edition.

I am still troubled by the assignment to science responsibility for forbidding compassion. Is this "true"? How does it play into the story here? Is "rational" being equated (somehow, at some level) with "science"? Especially given what we know today, isn't that a false assignment? But I am even uncertain about the time at which D. wrote.

(Why do I "care" about this line of reasoning and its validity? Well, I am encountering views that suggest large numbers reject "science" because it "doesn't care about people" -- which seems a nonsense view to me. But D. suggests the possibility that it is a view that has been around for a long time.)

[David]

Lily wrote: ""...compassion is forbidden nowadays by science itself, and that that’s what is done now in England,..."

This seems to be the larger picture D may be attempting to manipulate his readers by. Just as R seems to be split with his Jeckyll and Hyde personalities, Russia, in particular St. Petersburg was struggling with its own identity crisis. Peter the Great has been described as dragging Russia kicking and screaming into modernity by adopting Western ideas and technology by force. The struggle between Western and Eastern (Russian) ideals is aptly represented in St. Petersburg. D seems to be pro-Russian, therefore western ideals, including science, are going to become the scapegoat for many issues. R the murderer is to R the altruistic as Western ideas are to traditional Russian ideas.

[Xan]

Lilly,

My guess is by science (rational) is meant objective observation, and action based on those observations. What it lacks is compassion. Which is perfectly appropriate when doing science. But we get ourselves into trouble when we apply this method outside science. Then it becomes an ugly extreme, a way of dealing with problems without considering the moral implications. Eugenics policies anyone?

This is what I think is going on in R's head, a struggle between objective thought (science) and compassion. As of now compassion is losing rather badly.

[Roger]

Isn't it perfectly rational and scientific to bump off the disgusting old lady and use her wealth to make scores of worthy people happy?

[Christopher]

Xan Shadowflutter wrote: "But we get ourselves into trouble when we apply this method outside science. Then it becomes an ugly extreme, a way of dealing with problems without considering the moral implications. Eugenics policies anyone? "

I think that is the point. Notice that the college bull session cites the pawnbroker's cruelty to her sister- giving her savings to monks instead of to her 'workhorse' sister- as one reason to kill her, one proof that she's worthless, and yet, boom, Raskolnikov kills Lizavetta in the process of relieving humanity of the 'worthless' pawnbroker.

I think that is a very apt metaphor or simile or what you will of 'eugenic' or other 'rational' measures which have innocent victims in the millions.

But I would say D. never really makes clear (so far) what R. was thinking, what led him to contemplate this rash act. I don't think it was simply that he thought he could put the money to better use.

It may be revealed in the course of the novel that he thought a ruthless person like Napoleon could advance the human race, and he wanted to prove himself a ruthless 'superman,' as some have suggested here, but if so, it comes out much later.

[Thomas]

As Raskolnikov is on his way to commit the murder he becomes strangely introspective. He "quietly and sedately" observes himself in an objective, almost dissociated way. He thought he would be afraid, but he is actually quite calm, noticing details like the exact time on a clock in a shop and the fact that he forgot to change his hat.

"It must be the same for men being led out to execution -- their thoughts must cling to every object they meet on the way," flashed through his head, but only flashed, like lightning; he hastened to extinguish the thought.

Isn't this odd? Why does Raskolnikov think of himself, even briefly, as the one being led to execution?

[Xan]

Well, D. ought to know.

Because he can't stop himself from doing something he knows is wrong?

"Cling to every object they meet on the way..." Let's say this is the brain desperately trying to focus away from the horribleness of what it's about to endure. Then maybe that's what R is doing. Suddenly his actions become surreal. He stands outside himself observing his actions in disbelief. "That's not me doing this, is it?" Then, upon realizing it is him and that he can't stop himself, his mind desperately changes the subject by fixating on anything, no matter how pedestrian it might be, to escape his own horror.

[Thomas]

Xan Shadowflutter wrote: "Well, D. ought to know.

Because he can't stop himself from doing something he knows is wrong?
"

I wonder if we can't take it more literally. Maybe there is a part of Raskolnikov that is going to die when he takes another's life, and he knows this. When he is crossing the bridge and renounces his dream, he declares his freedom from this thing inside himself. Maybe it's that part of him that is about to die. I'm not sure what it is though. His weakness? His sense of compassion? His humanity?

[Shelley]

David wrote: "R the murderer is to R the altruistic as Western ideas are to traditional Russian ideas. "

I generally dislike allegories, but this does seem plausible enough for this book.

[Shelley]

I'm rather struck by two narrative choices that Dostoyevsky makes:

1) The decision to start in medias res: Rather than starting from where R. first conceives of the idea to murder the pawnbroker, or when he first overhears the conversation between the student and the officer, the story starts 1.5 months later, just before R. actually carries out the act. The preceding events are only revealed as recollections.

2) Similarly, the death of the mare is narrated as a dream, or what appears to be somewhat suppressed memories.

These choices all seem to have the effect of forcing the reader into R.'s head, as it were. Unlike Notes from the Underground, C&P is narrated in third-, rather than first-, person, but it is bestowed with the same sense of claustrophobia and disorientation.

The mare dream also seems to hint at R.'s character. He is not a psychopath (whose hallmark is utter lack of empathy or sympathetic or moral imagination). If anything, his imagination is too strong: he immediately imagines Sonya's whole life from a brief conversation with M., then projects that feeling onto the unknown drunk girl, then has an extremely graphic dream about a (female) horse oppressed and used up by drunkards (a displacement of Sonya?). The same--the gift of empathy--is also true of M.: in his "confession", if you will, he gives the biography, not of himself, but of his wife, and gives it in beautiful details.

What is striking is that even such powerful sympathetic/moral imagination cannot make the two men act morally. There is a hint of criticism of romanticism here, of the romantic notion that, by teaching people to empathize and imagine other people's flights, one can somehow make them moral.

[Thomas]

Shelley wrote: "Unlike Notes from the Underground, C&P is narrated in third-, rather than first-, person, but it is bestowed with the same sense of claustrophobia and disorientation."

Good points. I'm still a little puzzled by the narrative POV. It is third person, but it often seems to be from the viewpoint of Raskolnikov, making it a sort of indirect narrative. Not always though. D. seems to use it when he wants to "force the reader into R.'s head," as you put it, and it works fairly well.

What is striking is that even such powerful sympathetic/moral imagination cannot make the two men act morally.

This is the shocking thing, or one of the shocking things in the book so far. Instead of acting sympathetically, they do just the opposite. The pain of suffering seems to overwhelm them, resulting in an impulse to destroy rather than to heal.

[David]

Great points Shelley and Thomas.

It almost they are trying to conquer the pain and suffering they experience in an "if you cannot beat them, join them" sort of way. M seems to demand more pain suffering, and R seems to think he will no longer be the recipient of pain and suffering if he is the one dealing it out.

[Roger]

Raslolnikov seems determined to overcome his natural feeling of empathy for his victim. He's convinced himself that that's what his higher intellectual status demands.

[David]

Does that mean that R's conflict simply boil down to an "Head vs. Heart" argument?

[Tamara]

David wrote: "Does that mean that R's conflict simply boil down to an "Head vs. Heart" argument?"

I think that's part of it. R seems to have suppressed his feelings of empathy and compassion. But I also think he has an attitude of entitlement. He seems to think he is better than/has a more superior intellect than the people around him and, therefore, he is entitled to take what isn't his.
He behaves as if the rules that govern others don't apply to him.

[Hilary]

I still haven't caught up with all the comments, but I agree, Tamara, Thomas and others that Raskolnikov is seeking freedom from compassion. I also like your reference to Lady Macbeth, Tamara. R is such a troubled and angry person that I think he was ready to target almost anyone with the wrath that had overtaken him. The pawnbroker was hardly the most evil person in the world; she was a mere symbol of all that was wrong in R's life. I feel that he had such a drive to murder that any victim was fair game. Lizaveta was a bit of a needless casualty of war.

Oh and David (am I right this time?) you have no need of counselling. It's a given that animals are nicer than people all the time! :p

[Hilary]

Haha David, I love the idea of the bridge allergy. I wonder whether there is a self-help group available for sufferers. Perhaps BA. You know Bridges Anonymous. Or perhaps that well known Society 'Well, here I am on the bridge again and I promised that I would never ever cross another bridge again ever' or something like that ... :D

[Christopher]

I think it becomes clear later that bridges mean suicide, or at least the thought of suicide.
"Take a long walk off a short pier."

[Tamara]

I'll cross that bridge when I get to it :)

[David]

Marmeladov seems to be allergic to bridges too. He informs us that:

It’s the fifth day since I left home, and they are looking for me there and it’s the end of my employment, and my uniform is lying in a tavern on the Egyptian bridge. I exchanged it for the garments I have on . . . and it’s the end of everything!”

Dostoyevsky, Fyodor. Crime And Punishment (p. 12). HarperCollins Canada. Kindle Edition.

Since learning of the literal translation of the title, I suspect Dostoevsky may be using bridges as symbolic crossing points for mental, spiritual, and physical states.

the original title ("Преступление и наказание") is not the direct equivalent to the English. "Преступление" is literally translated as a stepping across. The physical image of crime as a crossing over a barrier or a boundary is lost in translation. So is the religious implication of transgression, which in English refers to a sin rather than a crime

[Tamara]

David wrote: "Since learning of the literal translation of the title, I suspect Dostoevsky may be using bridges as symbolic crossing points for mental, spiritual, and physical states..."

That's an excellent point. R is struggling and at war with himself. It's as if the bridge represents some sort of liminal phase--an in between phase in which his former self has to "die" in order for the "new" self to be born.

He rose to his feet, looked round in wonder as though surprised at finding himself in this place, and went towards the bridge. He was pale, his eyes glowed, he was exhausted in every limb, but he seemed suddenly to breathe more easily. He felt he had cast off that fearful burden that had so long been weighing upon him, and all at once there was a sense of relief and peace in his soul. “Lord,” he prayed, “show me my path—I renounce that accursed… dream of mine.”

Crossing the bridge, he gazed quietly and calmly at the Neva, at the glowing red sun setting in the glowing sky. In spite of his weakness he was not conscious of fatigue. It was as though an abscess that had been forming for a month past in his heart had suddenly broken. Freedom, freedom! He was free from that spell, that sorcery, that obsession!

The setting sun is the end of the day, the end of the old.

In a sense, R is birthing himself anew by crossing the bridge. And if you want to carry the symbolism one step further, you could argue the bridge represents the birth canal.

[Lily]

Tamara wrote: "...you could argue the bridge represents the birth canal. ..."

WHOA! WOW! What's your bet that symbolism occurred to D? (Or should I ask, the textual evidence is....?)

(But I like it....Something about the text an author writes and the one the reader reads....)

[David]

Sometimes a bridge is just a bridge, right? :)

[Shelley]

@David & @Tamara: I really love the bridge analogy, or just the idea that the literary city of St. Petersburg is somehow a representation of R.'s mind. My P&V translation states that the street names D. uses are real, but D. has taken a great deal of liberty in where things are. Makes sense then for the paths that R. takes to represent parallel thought processes.

Likewise I find D. to be very insistent on the literary map being 3-dimensional: The bar where R. meets M. is below street level--he literally has to descend into the underground. The number of flights of stairs up to the pawnbroker's flat is very specifically laid out. D. predated Freud, but it's clear that he knew about layers of consciousness and subconsciousness.

David wrote: "Does that mean that R's conflict simply boil down to an "Head vs. Heart" argument?"

I wondered about this too but I think not. Consider:

1) The pivotal conversation between the student and the captain: We only hear this conversation through R.'s recollection, and he seems to be a highly unreliable narrator. It's perfectly likely that they were talking about Lizaveta, for instance, and R. just projected his thoughts onto them. The officer guffawed again, and R. gave a start. How strange it was! Can this be read almost as a possible cue to R.'s hallucination?

2) His superstition that the universe is somehow propelling him to commit the murder, upon overhearing that Lizaveta will be gone from the flat. This doesn't seem rational in the least.

3) The last important event to happen right before the murder is the letter that R. receives, which casts into great urgency his need to get money, somehow. It's interesting that R. completely dodges the whole issue of how to dispose of the loot from the pawnbroker's chest--perhaps because he doesn't want to confront so base a motive for murder.

I don't see much Head here. I see just a troubled Heart of Darkness which is not even aware of all of itself.

[Tamara]

@Lily: I guessed my bridge/birth canal analogy would elicit a response. But it seems logical to me whether D thought of it that way or not.

R is flip flopping when he gets on the bridge, as David said in an earlier message. By the time he gets off the bridge, he has made up his mind. He was one thing before and one thing after. What better symbolism to indicate the transition than a bridge/birth canal?

@David: Yes, sometimes a bridge is just a bridge. But sometimes it ain't. Depending on context, sometimes it is more than just a bridge.

[Roger]

The whole point of the murder was to get money that he could put to better use than the pawnbroker would. That's the reasoning that Raskolnikov finds unassailable. But there's more than reason in the world. Raskolnikov thinks he's being rational, but he's not. The more he tries the more he's driven by inner demons. Why murder, anyway? Why not just rob the pawnbroker? Surely it's because she's a revolting person. But not even Raskolnikov can tell himself that that justifies murder.

[David]

Tamara wrote: "@David: Yes, sometimes a bridge is just a bridge. But sometimes it ain't. Depending on context, sometimes it is more than just a bridge.."

I was just trying to set someone up for the Freudian cigar joke. :)

However, if we go with your analogy could we take it even further and say the city itself, St. Petersburg, is his symbolic mother? If so, then who could his symbolic father be? Minus R's dream, his father's influence seems to be absent.

[David]

I felt these throughts of R's concerning the drunk girl on the bridge were probably important as they seem to be another argument against western, modern, and scientific thinking.

Have not I seen cases like that? And how have they been brought to it? Why, they’ve all come to it like that. Ugh! But what does it matter? That’s as it should be, they tell us. A certain percentage, they tell us, must every year go . . . that way . . . to the devil, I suppose, so that the rest may remain chaste, and not be interfered with. A percentage! What splendid words they have; they are so scientific, so consolatory. . . . Once you’ve said ‘percentage’ there’s nothing more to worry about. If we had any other word . . . maybe we might feel more uneasy. . . . But what if Dounia were one of the percentage! Of another one if not that one?

What other word could be used that would make us feel more uneasy? Does he make himself feel more uneasy with the last two questions?

[Christopher]

David wrote: "I felt these throughts of R's concerning the drunk girl on the bridge were probably important as they seem to be another argument against western, modern, and scientific thinking.
Have not I seen..."

This may be off-topic, but Chekhov's story "A Nervous Breakdown," is on a very similar theme (one might say the same theme):

http://www.eldritchpress.org/ac/anb.htm

The indifferent, reserved, and frigid tone in which his friends and the doctor spoke of the women and that miserable street struck Vassilyev as strange in the extreme. . . .

"Doctor, tell me one thing only," he said, controlling himself so as not to speak rudely. "Is prostitution an evil or not?"

"My dear fellow, who disputes it?" said the doctor, with an expression that suggested that he had settled all such questions for himself long ago. "Who disputes it?"

[Shelley]

Christopher wrote: "This may be off-topic, but Chekhov's story "A Nervous Breakdown," is on a very similar theme (one might say the same theme)."

Fantastic connection--I can see it too, now that you've pointed it out.

It's also interesting that the main characters--in C&P and in Chekhov's story--are all students. Unsurprising that they would be the segment of society caught between the "modern" ideas of Western Europe and the massive body of traditions in the Russian colossus.

[Kerstin]

This was a painful segment to read. I'm not sure I want to spend too much time here... Dostoevsky knows how to make the reader miserable. For some reason I don't recall this kind of protracted intensity in 'The Brothers Karamazov.' Is it my faulty memory?

Raskolnikov must be mad. How do you go from lazy, quasi student with shabby clothes and too conceited to continue tutoring to earn a living to planning and executing a murder? Those synapses aren't functioning right. I can see someone like this bumming off others and feeling entitled to it, but commit a capital crime? Yikes!

Then there is his bizarre behavior wandering aimlessly the streets and having all sorts of disconnected thoughts and not being able to focus. Or his extended sleep patterns, as if his brain needs to rest from all the hyper activity.

[Nemo]

Roger wrote: "Isn't it perfectly rational and scientific to bump off the disgusting old lady and use her wealth to make scores of worthy people happy?"

Science has nothing to do with it. As for being rational, I suppose it depends on what people mean by “rational”. Raskolnikov might have a reason, a motive, for killing the old lady, does that make his action "rational"?

[Lily]

Nemo wrote: "...Raskolnikov might have a reason, a motive, for killing the old lady, does that make his action "rational"? ..."

Yes, I'm with you, Nemo, on that line of questioning. For me, in the same category as asking if the actions of the driver in NYC this week were "rational." Or suicide attackers. Or ....

What are the (philosophical, moral, epistemology, "normal, sensible" ...) parameters around "rational"?

[Nemo]

I said that science had nothing to do with the murder, but I suspect Dostoevsky would disagree with me. He spoke of science in a few places in the novel, all in a sarcastic and disapproving way. It occurred to me that the science he saw and was reacting to in his writings is not science proper, but ideology masquerading as science, ideology or ideas that can and have led to murder.

[Nemo]

Lily wrote: "....... For me, in the same category as asking if the actions of the driver in NYC this week were "rational." Or suicide attackers. Or..."

Or drone strike...

[Xan]

Nemo wrote: "I said that science had nothing to do with the murder, but I suspect Dostoevsky would disagree with me. He spoke of science in a few places in the novel, all in a sarcastic and disapproving way. It..."

Perhaps what D disagrees with is not science itself but the dispassionate observation so associated with science but misapplied to human suffering and to all the social theories of how to improve the human lot. D is not a top down solutions kind of guy. For him it's very personal and bottom up.

[Nemo]

Xan Shadowflutter wrote: "Perhaps what D disagrees with is not science itself but the dispassionate observation so associated with science but misapplied to human suffering and to all the social theories of how to improve the human lot."

That is a good point. Dostoevsky strongly objects to the lack of compassion in society. The fault lies not with science, however, but with people.

For example, eugenics is not science, it is an ideology that treats human beings as a means to an end. Many people both in Europe and the US were very passionate about eugenics too.

"D is not a top down solutions kind of guy. For him it's very personal and bottom up."

Yes, I agree. I also think his novels as a whole is a counter-argument to dispassionate/inhumane ideology. In a way, by describing minutely their inner psychological states, changes, fears, hopes, struggles, failings and triumphs, he elevates and magnifies the dignity of individual human beings.

[Sue]

I was just reading reviews of this book "The Master and His Emissary: The Divided Brain and the Making of the Western World" by Iain McGilchrist which argues that the left side of the brain is the objective scientific side and the right side is the expansive subjective side that takes into account empathy and such and he argues that the Western world is increasingly allowing the left side to dominate to its detriment as in not taking into account humanity as well as logic An interesting argument and perhaps one that applies here as well. Obviously both sides have definite merits but must coordinate for optimal results. Each side must temper the other.