ChatGPT summary:
Raskolnikov’s mental and emotional turmoil intensifies as he struggles with guilt and paranoia while being drawn deeper into confrontations with those around him.
He finally reunites with his mother and sister, Dunya, but their meeting is tense. Dunya’s fiancé, Luzhin, continues to antagonize Raskolnikov, leading to a heated argument that further alienates Dunya. Meanwhile, Razumikhin becomes increasingly involved with Raskolnikov’s family, showing concern for them and growing feelings for Dunya.
Raskolnikov also has his first major encounter with Porfiry Petrovich, the investigator handling the murder case. Porfiry, aware of Raskolnikov’s intellectual arrogance, plays psychological mind games, subtly hinting that he suspects him. Their conversation, which revolves around Raskolnikov’s own published theories about crime and extraordinary individuals, leaves him shaken.
Amid his mental collapse, Raskolnikov becomes more entangled with Sonya Marmeladov, the tragic yet compassionate daughter of the recently deceased Marmeladov. Drawn to her suffering and purity, he feels a connection to her, sensing that she may be his path to redemption.
By the end of Part Three, Raskolnikov is trapped between his belief in his own justifications for the murder and his unbearable guilt, while external pressures—from the police, his family, and his own conscience—continue closing in on him.
chapter one
Cliffsnotes summary:
After Raskolnikov recovers from his fainting spell, everyone seems at a loss for something to say. Without warning, Raskolnikov throws a dark cloud over everything by announcing that he is not only violently opposed to Dunya's engagement, but he also forbids her to sacrifice herself to such a scoundrel as Luzhin. He says "I may be infamous, and even so, I would disown such a sister."
Razumihkin attributes Raskolnikov's outburst to his illness and suggests that it would be better to leave him alone for the present. When Pulcheria Alexandrovna wants to remain with her son, Razumihkin points out that Dunya cannot remain alone in such dreadful lodgings that Luzhin has secured for them. When all agree, he escorts them to their lodgings, promising to return later and bring Dr. Zossimov with him. Razumihkin, is so enthralled with Dunya that at one point, he gets down on his knees in the middle of the street and kisses her hand. He has obviously formed a sudden and strong infatuation for Dunya.
Highlights:
“You think I am attacking them for talking nonsense? Not a bit! I like them to talk nonsense. That’s man’s one privilege over all creation. Through error you come to the truth! I am a man because I err! You never reach any truth without making fourteen mistakes and very likely a hundred and fourteen. And a fine thing, too, in its way; but we can’t even make mistakes on our own account! Talk nonsense, but talk your own nonsense, and I’ll kiss you for it. To go wrong in your own way is better than to go right in someone else’s. In the first case you’re a human being, in the second you’re no better than a bird. Truth won’t escape you, but life can be cramped. There have been examples. And what are we doing now? In science, development, thought, invention, ideals, aims, liberalism, judgement, experience and everything, everything, everything, we are still in the preparatory class at school. We prefer to live on other people’s ideas, it’s what we are used to!”
Razumikhin’s dialog. my god. I loved this; echoed something that I read the other day → that humans can do something that god can’t, and that’s make a mistake.
“How could I bring myself to leave Rodia?…And how different, how different I had thought our meeting would be! How sullen he was, it was as if he wasn’t pleased to see us…” Tears came into her eyes.
This is Raskolnikov’s mother. Her pain is so evident…my heart hurts
She looked much younger than her age, in fact, which is almost always the case with women who retain serenity of spirit, sensitiveness and pure sincere warmth of heart into old age. We may add in parenthesis that to preserve all this is the only means of retaining beauty into old age.
Amen
“Talk any rot you like to her, as long as you sit by her and talk. You’re a doctor, too; try curing her of something.”
This made me laugh (they’re discussing time-stalling strategies)
chapter two
Cliffsnotes summary:
Razumihkin awakens the next day remembering everything about his talk the preceding night and he is ashamed. He now washes and dresses in clean clothes before reporting to Dunya and Pulcheria Alexandrovna. He goes to check with Dr. Zossimov who is satisfied with Raskolnikov's progress but is disturbed about his monomania concerning the painters and the murders.
Razumihkin goes immediately to Pulcheria Alexandrovna who wants to hear about her son. He tells that he has known Rodya for almost two years and that at times Rodya fluctuates between two characters. "He has been suspicious and fanciful. He has a noble nature and a kind heart. He does not like showing his feelings and he is not at all morbid, but simply cold and inhumanly callous. Really it is as though he had two separate personalities," and he fluctuates between two aspects of his character. Razumihkin then tells of Raskolnikov's past engagement to the landlady's daughter who was an invalid, queer, and positively plain if not ugly.
Pulcheria, with Dunya's permission, shows Razumihkin a letter received this morning from Luzhin. In it he writes of his involvement until tomorrow night when he will call on them. He explicitly, earnestly, and "imperatively request the Rodion Romanovitch shall not be present at our meeting." He further threatens that if his request is ignored, he shall leave. He then reports that he has seen Raskolnikov in the flat of a notorious drunk who was run over and dying, and "he gave the daughter, a notoriously ill-conducted female [that is, a prostitute] almost twenty-five roubles."
Pulcheria Alexandrovna cannot understand her son's actions as reported by Luzhin. They leave to go see Raskolnikov, but Pulcheria Alexandrovna is so frightened to see her son that she can hardly stand up.
Highlights:
The most awful memory of the previous day was the way he had shown how “base and mean” he was, not only because he had been drunk, but because he had taken advantage of the young girl’s position to abuse her fiancé in his stupid jealosy, knowing nothing of their mutual relations and obligations and next to nothing of the man himself. And what right did he have to criticize him in that hasty and unguarded way? Who had asked for his opinion!
This is from Razumikhin, who feels awful for telling Dunia that he hated her fiancé. What a sweet man; having the self-awareness that no one asked him is something most people lack
And what justification was it that he was drunk? A stupid excuse like that was even more degrading! In wine is truth, and the truth had all come out, “that is, all the uncleanness of his course and envious heart!”
Being drunk is no excuse; he’s right
“Of course,” he muttered to himself a minute laer with a feeling of self-abasement, “of course, all these bad deeds can never be wiped out or smoothed over…and so it’s useless to even think of it, and I must go to them in silence and do my duty…in silence, too…and not ask forgiveness, and say nothing…now all is lost!”
Poor guy thinks he’s unforgivable for self-perceived rudeness, which is crazy considering the context of the rest of the book…
Had Avdotia Romanovna been dressed like a queen, he felt that he would not be afraid of her, but perhaps just because she was poorly dressed and that he noticed all the misery of her surroundings, his heart was filled with dread and he began to be afraid of every word he uttered, every gesture he made, which was trying for a man who already felt diffident.
Oooooooooh that’s a good one! Based on the dreariness of her surroundings + clothing, he knows the radiance + intimidation factor comes from her alone, which is far more piercing. We can all intuitively sense this!
Her gloves, Razumikhin noticed, were not only shabby but had holes in them, and yet this evident poverty gave the two ladies an air of special dignity which is always found in people who know how to wear poor clothes. Razumikhin looked reverently at Dunia and felt proud of escorting her. “The queen who mended her stockings in prison,” he thought, “must have looked every inch a queen and even more a queen than at sumptuous banquets and celebrations.”
!!!
“Don’t question him too much about anything if you see him frown! Don’t ask him too much about his health; he doesn’t like that.'“
“Ah, Dmitri Prokofich, how hard it is to be a mother! Ah, here are the stairs…What an awful staircase!”
“Mother, you’re so pale, don’t make yourself upset,” said Dunia, caressing her. Then with flashing eyes she added, “He ought to be happy to see you, and you’re tormenting yourself so badly.”
The pain of a mother who’s unable to help her son :(
chapter three
Cliffsnotes summary:
Dr. Zossimov reports that Raskolnikov is much better, but he is still pale, abstracted, and gloomy and looks "like a man who has been wounded or suffered intense pain." He concludes that whatever caused this collapse, they must remove these unhealthy influences.
Pulcheria Alexandrovna is so pleased to see her son that she narrates with deep emotion their fear upon arriving in St. Petersburg since Luzhin was unable to meet them. They were frightened to be alone, and she asks her son if he knows what it is like to be utterly alone. Raskolnikov then remembers Marmeladov's aloneness and tells that he has given all of the money she sent him to a poor woman whose husband was just killed. He admits that it was not right of him — that to help others a man must have the right to do so — and he had no right to squander his mother's hard-to-come-by money.
Raskolnikov then begins to feel impatient with his mother, even though he remembers how much he loves them in their absence. Pulcheria suddenly announces that Marfa Petrovna was dead and attributes it to her husband's beating her. Suddenly, Raskolnikov cannot stand their presence and "makes for the door" but is detained. Raskolnikov tells of his affair with the landlady's daughter and describes how plain she was, but even if she had been lame "or hump-backed" he "might have loved her even more." He insists that Dunya cannot marry Luzhin: "I do not withdraw from my chief point. It is me or Luzhin. If I am a scoundrel, you must not be. One is enough. If you marry Luzhin, I cease at once to look on you as a sister."
Dunya makes an elaborate justification of her engagement and then suddenly, with no provocation or reason, Raskolnikov withdraws his objections saying "Marry whom you like!" Dunya shows him Luzhin's letter, and Raskolnikov, amused by it, simply comments that Luzhin wants "to slander me and to raise dissension between us." Dunya implores Raskolnikov to come to the interview. She also invites Razumihkin.
Highlights:
The pale, somber face lit up for a moment when his mother and sister entered, but this only gave it a look of more intense suffering instead of its listless dejection. The light soon died away, but the look of suffering remained, and Zossimov, watching and studying his patient with all the passion of a young doctor beginning to practice, noticed no joy in him at the arrival of his mother and sister, but a sort of bitter, hidden determination to bear another hour or two of inevitable torture.
Raskolnikov…why do you treat your family like this :( Although it’s clear the unhealthy dynamics + mindsets that his mom and sister have towards him as well…this all just hurts
“Now that we can talk, I’d like to remind you that it is essential to avoid the elementary, so to speak, fundamental causes which tend to produce your morbid condition. In that case, you will be cured; if not, it will go from bad to worse.”
Lol this is how the “medical” profession treated mental illness back in the day I guess? “suppress, suppress, suppress” and the level of certainty too!
“Yes, yes; you are absolutely right…I’ll hurry up and get back to the university, and then everything will go smoothly…”
Zossimov, who had started giving him advice partly to make an impact on the ladies, was certainly a little mystified when he glanced at his patient and noticed an unmistakably mocking expression on his face.
Raskolnikov mocking the self-proclaimed expert Zossimov…hahaha this made me laugh
If he had looked more carefully he would have seen that there was no trace of sentimentality in him—the opposite, in fact. But Avdotia Romanovna noticed. She was intently and uneasily watching her brother.
Razumikhin was happy to hear Raskolnikov say the right words, but Dunia saw through it; sisters + family know. Dunia was focused more on Raskolnikov, Razumikhin was focused more on the sister + mother’s happiness.
When he said this, he suddenly held out his hand to his sister, smiling without a word. But in this smile there was a flash of real feeling. Dunia caught it at once, and warmly pressed his hand, overjoyed and thankful. It was the first time he had spoken to her since their argument the previous day. The mother’s face lighted up with ecstatic happiness at the sight of this conclusive unspoken reconciliation.
Moms truly latch onto everything…and also, no matter how much Raskolnikov pushes them away, part of him finds deep fulfillment being around the people he loves, and he can only hide it so much.
“And how well he does it all,” the mother was thinking to herself. “What generous impulses he has, and how simply, how delicately he put an end to all the misunderstandings with his sister—just by holding out his hand at the right minute and looking at her like that…And what handsome eyes he has, and how handsome his whole face is!”
This is Raskolnikov’s mom again…she’s so desperate for him to be happy and things to be going well that she’s not really paying attention, she’s just latching onto any perceived evidence of her fantasy
“Oh dear, he’s so strange! He’s talking kindly, but I’m afraid! Why, what am I afraid of?…”
No matter how much she tries to latch onto the positive, Raskolnikov’s mom intuitively knows something is wrong…she’s trying her best to reject it
“Is he answering us as a duty?” Dunia wondered. “Is he being reconciled and asking for our forgiveness as though he were performing a ritual or repeating a lesson?”
People can tell when you’re saying the words without actually feeling through it or meaning them!!
“I remember everything down to the last detail, and yet—why I did that and went there and said that, I can’t explain.”
“A familiar phenomenon,” Zossimov interrupted, “actions are sometimes performed in a masterly and remarkably cunning way, while the motive for the actions is deranged and dependent on various morbid impressions—it’s like a dream.”
How true!
“But people in perfect health act in the same way as well,” observed Dunia, looking uneasily at Zossimov. “There is some truth in your observation,” the latter replied. “In that sense we certainly all resemble madmen quite often, but with the slight difference that the deranged are even madder, because we have to draw the line somewhere. It’s true that a normal man hardly even exists. It’s hard to find one in a dozen—perhaps even one in a hundred thousand.”
Right??
To help others you’ve got to have the right to do it, or else you’ve just got to accept it.
Deep cut! What does it mean to earn the right to help others?
if you reach a line you won’t cross, you’ll be unhappy . . . and if you cross it, maybe you’ll be even unhappier
The sensation of confronting your own limits and boundaries. The best description I’ve come across.
“That’s enough, Rodia, I’m sure that everything you do is very good,” said his mother, delighted. “Don’t be too sure,” he answered, twisting his mouth into a smile.
Dark exchange…and why does he want to be found?
“Why, are you all afraid of me?” he asked, with a constrained smile. “That’s definitely true,” said Dunia, looking directly and sternly at her brother. “Mother was crossing herself with terror as she came up the stairs.” His face worked, as though in convulsion. “What are you saying, Dunia! Don’t be angry, please, Rodia . . . Why did you say that, Dunia?” Pulcheria Alexandrovna began, overwhelmed. “You see, coming here, I was dreaming all the way, in the train, how we would meet, how we would talk over everything together . . . And I was so happy, I didn’t notice the journey! But what am I saying? I am happy now ... You shouldn’t, Dunia . . . I am happy now—just to see you, Rodia . . . ”
The madness of the mother, again. She can’t even be honest about her own turmoil.
“We shall have time to talk freely about everything!” As he said this, he was suddenly overwhelmed with confusion and turned pale. Again that awful sensation he had known of late passed with deadly chill over his soul. Again it became suddenly plain and perceptible to him that he had just told a terrible lie: that now he would never be able to talk freely about everything, that never again would he be able to talk freely about anything to anyone. The anguish of this thought was such that for a moment he almost forgot himself.
Raskolnikov is starting to understand the depth of his torment and predicament; you truly cannot understand the implications of an action until you experience it. His freedom is gone.
She was an ugly little thing. I really don’t know what drew me to her then—I think it was because she was always ill. If she had been lame or hunchback, I think I would have liked her even more,” he smiled dreamily. “Yes, it was a sort of a spring delirium.” “No, it wasn’t just a spring delirium,” said Dunia, with warm feeling. He gave his sister a strained, intent look, but did not hear or did not understand her words.
Dunia understands that Raskolnikov’s attraction to this “lame” and “ugly” woman didn’t stem from delirium, but is in fact perfectly coherent. I also don’t know exactly what she sees; maybe it’s a reflection of how he views himself? The more barren and deformed the person he’s with is, the more excuse he has to descend to that level himself?
And in fact everything happening here seems far away somehow.” He looked attentively at them. “You now . . . I seem to be looking at you from a thousand miles away…”
This is Raskolnikov’s dialog to his family. He’s in purgatory, living a completely provisional existence. His torment is more real than his current experiences.
A little more, and their companionship, this mother and sister, with him after three years’ absence, this intimate tone of conversation, in the face of the utter impossibility of really speaking about anything—everything would have been beyond his power of endurance.
The juxtaposition of intimate relations with scarring secrecy is crushing. It would crush anyone.
And why do you call yourself a bad person? I can’t bear it.
Raskolnikov’s mom again. So sad.
“Rodia,” Dunia answered firmly and with the same dryness. “You’re making a mistake. I thought it over last night, and I discovered what it was. It’s all because you seem to think I am sacrificing myself to someone for someone else. That’s not the case at all. I’m just marrying for my own sake, because things are hard for me. Though, of course, I shall be glad if I manage to be useful to my family. But that’s not the chief motive for my decision . . . ” “She’s lying,” he thought to himself, biting his nails vindictively. “What a proud person she is! She won’t even admit she wants to do it out of charity! Too high and mighty! What terrible people! They even love as if they hate . . . And how I . . . hate them all!”
Raskolnikov is reacting so, so strongly to Dunia’s perceived self-deceit. Why? The hypocrisy is crazy. I read something similar earlier — we react most strongly to others based on what we hate most about ourselves.
“I wouldn’t marry him if I weren’t satisfied that he respects me and thinks highly of me. I wouldn’t marry him if I weren’t absolutely satisfied that I can respect him. Fortunately, I’ve had convincing proof of it today . . . and a marriage like that’s not cheap, as you say it is! And even if you were right, if I really had decided to behave badly, isn’t it merciless of you to speak to me like that? Why do you demand I have a heroism that maybe you don’t have either? It’s dictatorial; it’s tyrannical. If I ruin anyone, then I’ll only be ruining myself . . . I’m not committing a murder.”
Oof! Cooked him! She doesn’t even know how badly she hit him.
He is an intelligent man, but to act sensibly, intelligence is not enough.
@all the rationality bros.
chapter four
Cliffsnotes summary:
The family conference is suddenly interrupted by the appearance of Sonya, dressed in modest simplicity, filled with embarrassment and humility. She has come at Katerina Ivanovna's insistence to entreat Rodya to be present at the funeral and refreshments afterwards. He offers her a seat and tells her he needs to speak with her. She is further embarrassed because she should not be sitting in the presence of Dunya and Pulcheria Alexandrovna. She is also in Rodya's "bedroom" and she realizes that due to the poverty of his room that Raskolnikov must have given them everything.
Dunya and her mother must leave and alone, the mother has a presentiment that there is a special meaning of some importance between Rodya and Sonya, particularly after what Luzhin had written about her. Dunya decides that Luzhin is "a wretched scandal-monger."
Raskolnikov wants to be alone with Sonya, but first he tells Razumihkin that he needs to arrange an interview with Porfiry. Sonya has to go, and as she leaves, she is followed by Svidrigailov who discovers that they live in adjoining rooms.
As Raskolnikov and Razumihkin are on their was to see Porfiry, Raskolnikov begins teasing Razumihkin of being in love with Dunya and of acting like a love-sick Romeo. Rodya points out that Razumihkin has shaved and bathed, put on "clean linen," and has "Pomatum" on his hair. They enter Porfiry Petrovitch's flat laughing loudly.
I didn’t have any highlights for this chapter.
chapter five
Cliffsnotes summary:
Raskolnikov enters Porfiry's place trying to conceal his laughter. He is surprised to see Zametov, the chief clerk of the police department. He is then introduced to Porfiry. He tells his host of his official business: He had left Alyona Ivanovna some small items not of much value, to which he attached great sentimental value, particularly a watch left him by his father. Porfiry announced that he had indeed been expecting Raskolnikov, since everyone else who had pledges with the old pawnbroker had already made their claims.
Porfiry lets Raskolnikov know that he knew all about his pledges and they had been wrapped up carefully by the old pawnbroker and dated with his name on them. Porfiry subtly lets Raskolnikov know that he is aware of Raskolnikov's sickness, of his meeting with Zametov, and of his presence at Marmeladov's death. All these revelations disturb him, and he thinks to himself that Porfiry is playing with him, "like a cat plays with a mouse." He momentarily thinks of confessing the whole truth, especially since he feels that the police already know everything.
A discussion of the relationship of crime to one's environment ensues, which leads to Porfiry's announcement that he has read Raskolnikov's article on crime, which had appeared in a prominent magazine two months ago. Everyone, including Raskolnikov, is surprised that the article has indeed been published. Porfiry then asks Raskolnikov to explain parts of his theory in more detail, which he undertakes to do.
The essence of Raskolnikov's theory about crime as he presents it involves the duties and obligations of a class of people classified as the "ordinary people" as contrasted to the "extraordinary people." He outlines that (1) the perpetration of a crime is always accompanied by illness. Either the illness causes a person to commit the crime or else committing the crime causes one to become ill. (2) All men are divided into "ordinary" and "extraordinary." (3) Ordinary men have to live in submission and have no right to transgress the law because they are ordinary. (4) On the contrary, the extraordinary man has the right to commit any crime and to transgress the law in any way because he is extraordinary. That is not an official legal right but an inner right to decide in his own conscience whether to overstep the law or any obstacle that stands in the way of the practical fulfillment of his idea. (5) All great men would (or should) have the right to eliminate a few men in order to make their discoveries known to the benefit of all humanity. (6) All great men capable of giving something new (some "New Word") must not submit to the common law, or if they do, then this is proof that they do not belong among the extraordinary people. Being great means breaking from the common rut of ordinary laws. (7) In conclusion, men are divided into two categories the inferior (or ordinary) who can only reproduce their kind, and the superior "men who have the gift or talent to utter a new word."
After his explanation, Porfiry subtly wonders if Raskolnikov might have thought of himself as being "extraordinary" while composing or formulating this particular theory. Raskolnikov maintains that even if he did think that, he would not tell Porfiry, but he assures him that he does not consider himself to be a Napoleon or a Mahomet. Porfiry wonders then if this superior person would suffer, and Raskolnikov responds that "suffering and pain are always obligatory on those of wide intellect and profound feeling."
After hearing the explanation, Porfiry then returns to the business of the pledges and asks Raskolnikov if he remembers seeing some painters at work there. Raskolnikov feels that there is a trap here somewhere and tells that he cannot recall seeing any painters, but that someone was moving out. Razumihkin reminds Porfiry that the painters were only at work on the day of the murder and that Raskolnikov's last time there was several days before the murder. Porfiry pretends to have been confused and offers Raskolnikov his apologies.
Highlights:
All this flashed like lightning through his mind.
The paragraph preceding this was his mind going crazy of how to minimize suspicion on him. “Lightning” is such a great descriptor of the torment that accompanies deceit.
began with the socialist doctrine. You know their doctrine; crime is a protest against the abnormality of the social organization and nothing more, nothing; no other causes admitted!
Crazy description of socialism.
Everything with them is ‘the influence of the environment,’ and nothing else. Their favorite phrase! From which it follows that, if society is normally organized, crime will instantly cease to exist, since there will be nothing to protest against and all men will become righteous in an instant. Human nature is not taken into account, it is excluded, it’s not supposed to exist! They don’t recognize that humanity has developed by a living historical process and will eventually become normal; they believe that a social system that has come out of some mathematical brain is going to organize all of humanity at once and make it just and sinless in an instant, quicker than any living process! That’s why they instinctively dislike history, ‘nothing but ugliness and stupidity in it,’ and they explain it all as stupidity! That’s why they dislike the living process of life; they don’t want a living soul! The living soul demands life, the soul won’t obey the rules of mechanics, the soul is an object of suspicion, the soul is backward! But what they want, though it smells of death and can be made of rubber, is at least not alive, has no will, is servile and won’t revolt! And it comes in the end to their reducing everything to the building of walls and the planning of rooms and passages in a commune! The commune is ready, but human nature isn’t ready for the commune—it needs life, it hasn’t completed its vital process, it’s too soon for the graveyard! You can’t skip over nature by logic. Logic presupposes three possibilities, but there are millions! Cut away a million, and reduce it all to a question of comfort! That’s the easiest solution to the problem! It’s seductively clear and you mustn’t think about it. That’s the great thing, you mustn’t think! The whole secret of life in two pages of print!”
This is Porfiry speaking, but I think this is what Dostoevsky believes. A few years ago I think I used to be in the camp of the “blame the environment, not the person” people, but this is a stunning rebuke of that perspective.
“Yes, and you maintained that the perpetration of a crime is always accompanied by illness.”
Shocking that Raskolnikov’s article literally highlights that crime is always accompanied by illness. He knows this, but he’s still unable to put himself in that camp!
I maintain that if the discoveries of Kepler and Newton could not have been made known except by sacrificing the lives of one, a dozen, a hundred, or more people, Newton would have had the right, would in fact have been duty bound . . . to eliminate a dozen or a hundred men for the sake of making his discoveries known to the whole of humanity. But it does not follow from that that Newton had a right to murder people right and left and to steal every day in the market. Then, I remember, I maintain in my article that all . . . well, legislators and leaders, such as Lycurgus, Solon,32 Muhammed, Napoleon, and so on, were all without exception criminals, from the very fact that, making a new law, they transgressed the ancient one, handed down from their ancestors and held sacred by the people, and they did not stop short at bloodshed either, if that bloodshed—often of innocent persons fighting bravely in defense of ancient law—were of use to their cause. It’s remarkable, in fact, that the majority, in fact, of these benefactors and leaders of humanity were guilty of terrible carnage. In short, I maintain that all great people or even people who are slightly uncommon, that is to say capable of producing some new idea, must by nature be criminals—more or less, of course. Otherwise it’s hard for them to get out of the common rut; and to remain in the common rut is what they can’t submit to, from their very nature again, and to my mind they ought not, in fact, to submit to it.
Raskolnikov’s explanation of his idea that extraordinary people have the right to commit crime. In essence, it’s that their extraordinary actions require crime in order to break out of the rut that the rest of us find ourselves in; as if law is a constraint on the expression of their creativity and intelligence; as if they’re above it. And he’s right about the fact that many people have committed horrific violence and rewritten the laws to insulate themselves from punishment. What he fails to see is that they’re only escaping legal punishment, but they can’t escape the mental torment that Raskolnikov himself is currently experiencing.
The first category, generally speaking, contains men who are conservative in temperament and law-abiding; they live under control and love to be controlled. To my thinking it is their duty to be controlled, because that’s their vocation, and there is nothing humiliating in it for them. The second category transgresses the law; they are destroyers or disposed to destruction according to their capacities. The crimes of these men are of course relative and varied; for the most part they seek in very varied ways the destruction of the present for the sake of the better. But if such people are forced for the sake of their ideas to step over a corpse or wade through blood they can, I maintain, find within themselves, in their conscience, a justification for wading through blood—which, you should note, depends on the idea and its dimensions. It’s only in that sense I speak of their right to crime in my article article (you remember it began with the legal question). There’s no need for such anxiety, however; the masses will scarcely ever admit this right, they punish them or hang them (more or less), and in doing so quite justly fulfill their conservative vocation. But the same masses set these criminals on a pedestal in the next generation and worship them (more or less). The first category is always the man of the present, the second the man of the future. The first preserve the world and people it, the second move the world and lead it to its goal. Each class has an equal right to exist.
I agree that destruction and creation go hand in hand; what I disagree with is that it requires violence and bloodshed. And I definitely disagree that any man has the ability to make that judgment themselves. Raskolnikov’s case is stunning though, and it’s something I believe many people nowadays intuitively find themselves believing. Just look at the current administration’s war on the law in order to make it subordinate to their wishes.
Of course, they might have a thrashing sometimes for letting their imagination run away with them and to teach them their place, but no more; in fact, even this isn’t necessary as they chastise themselves, because they are very conscientious: some perform this service for one another and others chastise themselves with their own hands . . . They will impose various public acts of penitence upon themselves with a beautiful and edifying effect; in fact, you’ve nothing to be uneasy about . . . It’s a law of nature.”
This is Raskolnikov’s response when Porfiry asks about the danger of “ordinary” men conflating themselves as “extraordinary”. Raskolnikov thinks they’re harmless since they’ll be too busy superficially punishing themselves in front of others to commit real harm. Obviously this isn’t the case with himself; now the only question is, is Raskolnikov extraordinary, or does his ordinary-ness disprove his own theory? That’s what I think Raskolnikov is trying to figure out himself.
what is really original in all this, and is exclusively your own, to my horror, is that you permit bloodshed in the name of conscience, and, excuse my saying so, with such fanaticism . . . That, I take it, is the point of your article. But that permission of bloodshed by conscience is to my mind . . . more terrible than the official, legal permission of bloodshed . . . ”
Porfiry hits the nail on the head here! He separates the moral permission from the legal permission, something Raskolnikov fails to do.
“Why the word ‘ought’? It’s not a matter of permission or prohibition. He will suffer if he is sorry for his victim. 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,”
This is Raskolnikov’s response to Razumikhin’s question of whether extraordinary men suffer when they commit crime in the name of the greater good. Raskolnikov argues that it’s a natural but necessary consequence.
chapter six
Cliffsnotes summary:
Raskolnikov and Razumihkin leave Porfiry's to meet with Dunya and Pulcheria; they discuss the implications of the conversation about the murder, and Raskolnikov is certain that he is suspected. Razumihkin is infuriated that suspicion is cast upon Rodya, and he plans to reprimand his distant relative, Porfiry.
Just as they reach the rooming house where his mother and sister are staying, Rodya parts from Razumihkin promising to return shortly. The parting is again difficult. Rodya flees to his room to search for any scraps of evidence, but he can find nothing.
As he is leaving his room, the porter points out a man who was inquiring after him. When approached, the mysterious stranger calls him "Murderer!" and leaves. Even though Rodya follows him, nothing is resolved. This episode leaves him visibly agitated and confused, and rather than going to his mother's, he returns to his room and sleeps.
Alone, he begins to examine the basis of his theory. He still believes in the nobility of the theory, but he worries about whether he might not have destroyed some of its nobility by practicing it on a disgusting object like the old pawnbroker. Napoleon was a real ruler "to whom everything is permitted," but he cannot believe Napoleon, who conquered "the pyramids" and "destroyed Toulon," would ever "crawl under a vile old woman's bed." He then realizes that he "killed not a human being but a principle." Furthermore, he feels that he may also be a louse, and he again thinks of confession.
He falls asleep and dreams that he is again striking the old pawnbroker, but this time she refuses to die. When he awakens from this dreadful dream, he notices Svidrigailov standing in his doorway.
Highlights:
“I am getting a relish for certain aspects!” he thought to himself.
Raskolnikov getting off on the deceit…
His legs felt suddenly weak, a cold shiver ran down his spine, and his heart seemed to stand still for a moment, then suddenly began throbbing as though it were set free.
This is his reaction when someone called him a murderer. Chilling!
The images followed one another, whirling like a hurricane. Some of them he liked and tried to clutch at, but they faded and all the while there was an oppressive feeling inside him, but it was not overwhelming, sometimes it was even pleasant.
Is this because he felt relief at being found?
“And how dared I, knowing myself, knowing how I would be, take up an axe and shed blood! I ought to have known beforehand . . . Ah, but I did know!” he whispered in despair. At times he came to a standstill at some thought.
Even knowing the consequences, even knowing the inability to escape, he knows he couldn’t help himself
“No, those men are not made like that. The real Master to whom all is permitted storms Toulon, makes a massacre in Paris, forgets an army in Egypt, wastes half a million men in the Moscow expedition and gets off with a jest at Vilna. And altars are set up to him after his death, and so everything is permitted. No, such people, it seems, are made not of flesh but of bronze!”
He’s still questioning why Napoleon gets away with it.
“The old woman was a mistake perhaps, but she isn’t what matters! The old woman was just an illness . . . I was in a hurry to overstep . . . I didn’t kill a human being, but a principle! I killed the principle, but I didn’t overstep, I stopped on this side . . . I was only capable of killing. And it seems I wasn’t even capable of that ...
He has no empathy for the murder…it’s still a hypothesis or experiment in his mind. It wasn’t even about the murder itself! It was all a principle!
‘universal happiness’ is their case. No, life is only given to me once and I shall never have it again; I don’t want to wait for ‘universal happiness.’ I want to live myself, or else better not live at all. I simply couldn’t pass by my mother starving, keeping my trouble in my pocket while I waited for ‘universal happiness.’ I am putting my little brick into universal happiness and so my heart is at peace. Ha-ha! Why have you let me slip? I only live once, I too want . . . God, esthetically I’m a louse and nothing else,” he added suddenly, laughing like a madman. “Yes, I’m definitely a louse,” he went on, clutching at the idea, gloating over it and playing with it with vindictive pleasure. “In the first place, because I can reason that I am one, and secondly, because for a month past I have been troubling benevolent Providence, calling it to witness that I didn’t do it for my own fleshly lusts, but with a grand and noble object—ha-ha! Thirdly, because I aimed to carry it out as justly as possible, weighing, measuring and calculating. Of all the lice I picked out the most useless one and proposed to take from her only as much as I needed for the first step, no more, no less (so the rest would have gone to a monastery, according to her will, ha-ha!). And the thing which really shows that I am a louse,” he added, grinding his teeth, “is that I am perhaps viler and more loathsome than the louse I killed, and I felt beforehand that I would tell myself so after I killed her. Can anything be compared with the horror of that! The vulgarity! The abjectness! I understand the ‘prophet’ with his saber, on his steed: Allah commands and ‘trembling’ creation must obey! The ‘prophet’ is right, he is right when he sets a battery across the street and blows up the innocent and the guilty without explaining! It’s for you to obey, trembling creation, and not to have desires, that’s not for you! . . . I shall never, never forgive the old woman!”
This is Raskolnikov’s logic as to why he’s even worse than the old pawnbroker, why he’s a complete louse. You can feel the depth of his self-loathing, and how he projects it onto all the people around him, most of all the old woman who began the source of his torment.