Where does one begin? Is the novel a search for motive? What drives Raskolnikov? Is it simple arithmetic-kill the old lady and use the money for good? What is Sonya’s response to economic despair? How close is this to a perfect crime? Does Raskolnikov care too much for others to be a real man of decisive action? What is the meaning of dreams in real life and in literature? Answer any of mine or raise your own and answer it.
What drives Raskolnikov?
Dostoevsky expertly weaves together Raskolnikov’s character with a mixture of powerful emotion, pure logic, absolute genius, and almost insanity. He seems to have little to no love for his himself and therefore neglects his own well-being with almost a passion, leading to his sickness. Actually, he has no social ties or care for anyone in normal circumstances/and is introverted to a unsettling degree. Raskolnikov can be extremely obsessive-compulsive, thinking and rethinking over every detail of the murder and even seems to be able to hold more than one strain of thought, while speaking with people, in order to micromanage his conversations to an incredible degree. However, he is also at times disturbingly compulsive and brash, giving away his money and putting himself into bad situations frequently but sporadically. Finally, although he cares little for himself, Raskolnikov loves his sister intensely and wants nothing less than for her to sacrifice her freedom and happiness for him. His love is intensified when contrasted with his own deep self-resentment. For this reason, I believe that Raskolnikov, at least on the surfice, was motivated by his sister’s plans to marry Luzhin in order to pay for his education. However, I also believe somewhere in his mind lurks some other intention. Raskolnikov seems to be primarily logically motivated, again planning things out compulsively. For this reason, it seems unrealistic that he attempted the murder for purely emotional reasons. If Raskolnikov is going to take such a large risk, there must be many possible benefits in his mind rather than just his sister’s freedom. The problem is, that with such a twisted, complicated character, his motivations could be reasonable, altruistic, absolutely insane…anything, and I think that only further reading of the novel can actually reveal what these intentions may be.
What is the meaning of dreams in real life and in literature?
In The Republic, Plato analyzes dreams as places where we act out our tyrannical impulses and give rein to our unnecessary desires, and I think his description provides an interesting lens for Crime and Punishment and for real life. Plato notes that our souls need an outlet for all of the desires and passions that we cannot act out, because the various parts of the soul need to be kept in balance. The desiring part of the soul must be fed a little in dreams so that it does not grow out of balance, but it cannot be allowed to run free. Raskolnikov refers to killing the old woman as a “fantasy,” like an idle daydream (4). After the murders, he dreams of killing the old woman again (277).
I think his dreams, whether during his sleep or as daydreams and ideas, are also tied to his motives – I think Raskolnikov sees the idea of the murder to some extent as an intellectual exercise in the natural criminality of humans and as a test of his extraordinary man theory. In pursuit of these questions, he allows that desiring part of his soul to run free without the constraints of morality or society. Instead of Plato’s idea that feeding those desiring (animal) impulses allows them to stay in harmony with the rational and emotional parts of the soul, it seems Raskolnikov’s daydreams only propel him towards actually committing the murder.
Maybe this is because Raskolnikov is not just giving in to his natural impulses to violently murder; instead he is really conducting an intellectual exercise, albeit with frightening consequences. I think it takes a singularly mind, one that has been isolated from society, like Raskolnikov, and one that is able to function very rationally. Raskolnikov still has very strong emotional responses to things, like his intense rage over the conversation with Porfiry Petrovich. Perhaps it is this combination that allows the somewhat intellectual nature of his daydreams to translate into violent crime.
Does Raskolnikov care too much for others to be a real man of decisive action?
Yes. With too much time and brain power on his hands, Raskolnikov has concocted an ideal of himself that is completely rational, devoid of emotion, capable of killing a woman solely for the sake of socioeconomic justice and to test his own theories of morality and individualism. He would like to be this person, because, as a young intellectual, he believes that the mind is supreme, trumping even ethical codes; but in practice his emotional connections to the rest of humanity foil him. Even in the initial act of murder, he is finally inspired to go through with it not because of his philosophical conviction but because he is infuriated by the idea of his sister’s marrying for money. The murder, therefore, is not what he wanted it to be. It’s a much more visceral and primitive act than the ideal man of “decisive action” would allow. Raskolnikov is continually distracted and compromised by attacks on his heart: Marmeladov, the drunk girl in the street, Sonya, his own sister. It is frustration at this unwanted connection to humanity, I think, that drives him to be so rude to Razumikhin, and to eventually alienate his family. He knows that these connections are preventing him from being what he wants to be, and so he tries to break them, but in the end they are what saves him
Raskolnikov’s crime isn’t just killing the mean old lady to use the money for good. He quickly hides what he had stolen under the stone in the courtyard off of V—y Prospect. So, he does not actually use the money to benefit society in any way. After the crime he is obsessed with covering up his guilt and getting rid of anything that reminds him of it. While the motives for his crime are to remove an overly stingy and mean pawnbroker from society and then improve society with the money that she had earned, Raskolnikov quickly changes his mind and only thinks about how to get out of going to jail. As a result of this selfish urge, he does not hesitate to kill Lizaveta. This crime is close to perfect. Everything seems to fall together perfectly for Raskolnikov. He finds an axe in the caretakers shed, which is abandoned. He commits the crime, and his murder of Lizaveta is unexpected he remains somewhat composed and luckily manages to slip out of the crime scene without anybody noticing. After cleaning the axe and putting it back in the still abandoned shed he returns home. Then all he really has to do to not get arrested is remove the bloody pieces of clothing and hide the stolen goods somewhere, which he does promptly.
In order to quantify how perfect Rodion Romanych committed his crime, we should probably start with what a perfect crime is or should be. As Erik noted above, Raskolnikov’s act is “close to perfect” in the sense that everything seems to fall in his favor. The pawn broker does not make substantial noise as she is killed, the painters vacate the room on the lower floor that allows for a clean escape, and Raskolnikov even places the axe back where he found it without the burden of another set of eyes as witness. But in practical purposes the crime is less perfect than its literal execution. After all, this book is about both the crime and the transgression or punishment afterward.
The flaws in Raskolnikov’s crime lie strictly within Raskolnikov himself. As Emma and Ben attest to above, he is characterized by an overworking mind, which results in his manic need to control. For he certainly has the ego to feel deserving of complete control of the world around him, going so far as to consider himself a Napoleon. But to be a Napoleon means to be flawless in one’s control, and in this respect Raskolnikov errs in his act at the end of part 1. Had he been a true Napoleon, he would not have had to kill Lizaveta (let alone killing her with the door to the hall open). A Napoleon likewise would have been noble in his act, taking what was desired for a purpose; this Raskolnikov does not do (immediately), for after taking two lives he hides his stolen objects under a rock in a moment of desperate uncertainty. But more important than these details, Raskolnikov falls short of perfection because of what transgresses in his own mind. He cannot let himself get away with murder so easily, and continues to dwell on it and let it define his life afterwards. Now, to the average person this is as all as it should be, but Raskolnikov does not believe himself to be average. In the end, the crime becomes an amateur act by a normal human being, rather than the shrewd Napoleonic operation Raskolnikov had envisioned. This imperfection lives throughout the novel in his mind, and pushes him to make an equally decisive act at its end.
What makes a crime perfect? Is it a lucky execution or a fool-proof plan? Can a sloppy, but extraordinarily lucky crime be called perfect?
The funny thing is that I have never really thought about Raskolnikov’s motivations before. I feel like what ultimately pushed him into it at that particular time was dumb luck. He overhears Lizavetta talking, discovering a perfect opportunity, and he seizes it. And in fact, his crime is filled with instances of dumb luck: the entire circumstance of the axe, Koch abandoning his post, et cetera. Really, I think the murder occurred when it did entirely because Raskolnikov believed it to be the best chance he had.
As for actual motivation, that’s tougher to hit on. Money as motivation can be disregarded to some extent not only because Raskolnikov hides the money and goods after the murder not using or selling them, but also because of how loose he is with his money. He gives Marmeladov’s family twenty rubles after his death, when he desperately needs that money for himself. Not that this looseness is necessarily a bad thing, but he doesn’t seem concerned enough with money.
I think that the romantic notions of his overworking mind are to blame. Perhaps he envisioned himself as a kind of murderous Robin Hood, stealing from the evil old biddy and giving to the needy. But regardless, it is some romantic notion of his mind, either the aforementioned monetary motivation or more likely a kind of desire to prove himself amongst the ranks of the “extraordinary” who can rise above the laws.
If we regard this novel as truthful reflections, then this novel is incredibly insightful into the mind of an average criminal – not the cold-blooded serial killer, but the average criminal who feels like he must commit the crime because he has nowhere to turn to. I think Raskolnikov is a good person – someone with the full range of normal emotions from love and compassion to hatred and jealousy, and thinks like a normal person. Therefore, his killing Alyona surprises me, and I don’t understand his motive, because I could be him (except the murder).
I don’t quite understand why we are so antsy and nervous when we do bad things? Why can’t we just execute it to perfection like when we do something good? It seems like there’s a mechanism in our mind that stops us from completely thinking things through when we commit a crime, and also explains why we always hear of criminals getting caught for the stupidest mistakes, like leaving their belongings at the crime scene, not wearing gloves to cover up their finger prints…etc – all the little mistakes that a criminal should be able to avoid just by watching CSI.
Maybe the novel suggests that humans are inherently good, that we subconsciously engineer mistakes into our plans so that we would be caught. While Raskolnikov didn’t want to be caught, he came close to confessing many times. It seems like morals come into play very frequently, and he is trapped in a dilemma of wanting to get away, but also having to live with the guilt and wanting to be found so that he can escape the torture of his own conscience.
To answer a few of these questions, C&P is definitely about the gritty underworld of Russia/Petersburg, more so than any of the works we’ve read thus far, save perhaps Notes From the Underground.
Poverty is everywhere, and characters are doing their best to work through it, despite their ‘one foot of earth.’ Dostoyevsky addresses it through Raskolnikov, Sonya, Marmeladov, people who have sunk so low that the word ‘to resort (to s.t.)’ is a useful piece of vocabulary. The way the author frames the subject of poverty early on is that when faced with economic adversity (as is common in Russia), there are two options: poverty, or destitution. As Marmeladov says on page 13, ‘In poverty you may still preserve the nobility of your inborn feelings, but in destitution no one ever does.’ There is then a kind of choice, where one can decide between losing any sort of dignity or pride for the sake of survival, luxury or power, or being impoverished but maintaining some semblance of dignity.
Raskolnikov’s quest for both power and dignity is the central story of the novel. He is a poor man (for whatever reason), but wants to do good works: while himself in moments of extreme difficulty, he instinctively gives charitably to those in need. He feels at his most confident and effective when he is exerting some sort of power or influence over others in a good way; nevertheless, he is himself destitute and unable to maintain such a lifestyle. The power over life and death, however, must have been quite tempting to someone who felt as powerless as he, and so to be given a mathematical semi-justification for murder could hardly have fallen on a more amenable set of ears.
Crime and Punishment as a social critique can have its thesis pointed out as Razumikhin’s ruminations on the inherent flaw of the “modern” society. As he says to Luzhin, impracticality is a dominant force in the modern psychology, one that shirks personal responsibility, ethic, and perhaps most importantly meekness. It is the want of these characteristics that comprises Raskolnikov and leads him to murder. Raskolnikov’s motives are never explicitly clear in this novel – his words are often contradicted by his actions and his actions are often contradicted by other actions. Yet as we see in his dealings with the Marmeladovs and his relationship with typhoid stricken daughter of his landlady, Raskolnikov has a predisposition for charity, which in the context of the murder, plays out like a full-blown messianic complex. By killing the pawnbroker he is trying to transgress the ordinary and achieve the extraordinary – he is trying to replicate Christ’s sacrifice by assuming mankind’s sin and exterminating the “louse,” which is merely a parasitic being and undeserving of life. Yet we are aware in large part because Raskolnikov undergoes such psychosis in the proceedings and aftermath of the murder that his ambitions are utterly impractical. Raskolnikov is not humble before God, is not willing to allow practicality his patience, and thus his crime is committed.
My initial reaction to the question “is this the perfect crime?” was a resounding NO. But on second thought, I think the the crime itself was perfect. Regardless of Raskolnikov’s plan having almost no foresight or alternative action to fall back on, the deed was accomplished and the criminal got away with little possibility of being apprehended. Chance, luck, fate, whatever we want to call it, was completely on Raskolnikov’s side. However, his situation by the second part of the novel seems incredibly precarious. Why? Not because of any real evidence piling up against him, but because of Raskolnikov’s unrelenting ability to incriminate himself. Obviously social interactions were not his strongpoint to begin with, but the stress, and one might say guilt, that has accompanied his crimes has set him, teetering, onto the very brink of insanity. He just cannot hold himself together, and his constant indecisiveness between frantically ensuring his black deed remains undiscovered and wanting to expose himself for the relief that unburdening his conscience would provide, make him a terrible criminal. He is bold enough to return to the scene of the crime, but not for some purpose of cleaning up his tracks or looking to get some advantage, but out of idly curiosity! Its almost frustrating how completely unconcerned he is for his own security, or at least how entirely he abandons the common sense and rationality of a sane mane. At one point in the novel he remarks on the money-laundering scheme that it seems to him the height of foolishness because so many people are involved. He scorns the idea of having to “depend on each other for the rest of their lives” (162), but he cannot seem to even be able to keep a secret known only to himself.
What is the meaning of dreams in real life and in literature?
I loved the way that Dostoevsky has blurred the line between Raskolnikov’s dreams and his real life, especially during his delirious recovery stage. Though I don’t really believe that dreams express the unconscious in the Freudian sense, I do view dreams as a sort of text, and as a text which can be an extremely compelling part of literature. In Raskolnikov’s case, it does seem that dreams for him are representative for him of real life – not only in the details of the dreams (like the horse dream or the one with Ilya Petrovich), but also the very notion of living in a dream-like state. We should remember that Dostoevsky should at least be considered a pre-existentialist, and I think the dreams in Crime and Punishment serve as a proto-existential abyss that Raskolnikov ultimately finds nothing in. He is certainly a tortured and paradoxical character, but over and over he refers back to nothing. This is a perverse and morbid reaction to existential despair, but Dostoevsky has done a masterful job at setting this character up in a way so that we can relate (relatively) and even sympathize. Back to the horse dream, for instance: I believe that Raskolnikov is both the horse and the carriage-driver, and that it represents the dichotomy within his character. It is clear from Dostoevsky’s portrayal that madness from existential despair is always closer than we think, and I’m quite excited to see where he drags us next.
Raskolnikov is driven not by a logical desire to kill the pawn-broker and use the money for good, nor is he driven by his own economic needs and desires. He kills the pawn-broker because he is curious as to what murder feels like. He feels no moral compunction against killing her, and so cannot give himself a good reason not to kill her. Raskolnikov was clearly affected by his schooling, particularly by the then-popular idea of a “superman”. Obviously, for society to function, most people have to live by the rule of law and follow a recognized pattern of behavior. The idea of a “superman” is that there are some people to whom laws do not apply; that some people are smart enough to decide when something like murder is actually better for society than everyone living. Raskolnikov seems to think that he is one of these “supermen” but has the idea wrong. He does not go through a logical process to decide if killing the pawn-broker is better for society than her remaining alive, he kills her because he has a morbid fascination with death and no real morals. He is going through what we could call an existential crisis. Raskolnikov does not have a belief in the inherent value of human life, nor does he know why he is alive. He fixates on the taking of the pawn-broker’s life as a way to try and figure out the purpose of his own. In rebelling against common morality, Raskolnikov hopes to find a morality of his own.
I would like also to briefly say that Raskolnikov does not care too much for others. His lack of decisive action stems from reservations about himself. He cannot decide on a course of action because he has no morality or system against which to measure the worth of his actions. He cannot deem one course “right” because he has no basis for a value judgment.
The Crime, even though unintentionally so, is pretty close to being perfect. Maybe that is the case, exactly because he didn’t plan it in anyway so that following his steps logically becomes difficult. Given this parameter it is hard to argue that this was a simple arithmetic – kill the old lady and use the money for good. First of all the act itself was not calculated, but seemed to be one of those Russian situations when Life happens to Raskolnikov. Following the action, he hides his hauls so that he most certainly cannot apply it for the betterment of the situation of the poor. Finally, the mental state of illness from sheer crazyness, which results from his bad conscious about the murder, imposes more strain to people around him than it gives good. It could be argued that this crime brings out the good in other people, because they help him in his sickness, but that is not answering the question. The money that he does use to improve the situation of other people comes from his mother’s pension. Maybe later in the story we will find out that he will actually use the money for good, but as of now this is a claim that cannot be made. Especially when considering that he indulged in the misery of his poverty for several weeks instead of getting up and taking on whatever work is available to make things better and become economically a little less dependant.
What is the meaning of dreams in real life and literature?
Much attention is devoted to the careful explicating of complex dreams in real life, for they have been proven to symbolically suggest elements of the subconscious that are not expressed during waking, conscious hours. It is truly amazing how the mind can craft disparate notions into an occasionally cohesive, always deeply meaningful sequence. In literature, however, dreams are crafted by a conscious, intentional author who strives to express something that is rarely verbalized directly. I’m currently studying the concept of “art cinema”: a movement in which screenwriters and directors are concerned with the cause of a character’s actions rather than reactions following an event. In this format, the dream is an extremely important tool for conveying a (often unclear) underlying motivating factor of the character’s personality.
Raskolnikov’s dream acts as such a tool. It does indeed indicate a pessimistic outlook, as well as serves as a potential reminder of his sister’s marital situation, as it is the mare (female) that acts as a martyr for the men. As Hillary pointed out, the dream strongly insinuates that the protagonist sees death as a perhaps necessary means to an end, and the vivid images present in the dream sequence serve to implant this concept in the minds of both Raskolnikov and readers.
Does Raskolnikov care too much for others to be a real man of decisive action?
What a schizo! It seems that Raskolnikov has two completely different personalities. He is at the same time a cold, detached, cruel man and a compassionate, warm, and humane one. The dissimilarity of his two contradictory personalities is exemplified in chapter 4 of part 1, when Raskolnikov tries to protect a young girl who appears to be drunk or drugged up and who is being followed by a shady old man with shady intentions. He offers his last 20 kopeks to take the girl home, but then for no apparent reason decides that it is none of his business, and that it doesn’t matter what the shady man does to the girl. His pity for Marmeladov and willingness to help him and his family shows us his compassionate side. I believe his dream in chapter 5 of part one can be seen as a flashback into his childhood. As a boy, he feels great compassion and sorrow for the mare that has been beaten to death. He hugs and kisses its dead body and attacks with his tiny fists the drunken peasant who killed it. At the same time, the description of Raskolnikov by his mother the letter she sends him differs immensely from the Raskolnikov in chapter 7 of part 1, who brutally murders Alyonya Ivanovna and her innocent half-sister. So yes, Raskolnikov cares too much for others to be a real man of decisive action, but he also doesn’t care that much.
Does Raskolnikov care too much about others to be a real man of decisive action?
First off, Raskolnikov cannot be a real man of decisive action because he is not decisive. He is impetuous and brooding, but he is not decisive – he does lacks the self-certainty it takes to be decisive. A decisive man must reflect on the past indifferently and Raskolnikov must dwell on it – his crime sickens him and the confidence he develops post-murder is a weak affectation. Still, he does exhibit some characteristics of decisiveness. Raskolnikov often acts without thinking giving away the money he needs to those who don’t, prejudging (rightly or wrongly) Luzhin, etc.
Raskolnikov nominally cares about others, but he thinks primarily about himself. This is most evident when he is actually committing murder and attempting to rob the pawnbroker. The motive of this crime was not merely to eliminate some scum from the Earth like a superhero, but to use that scum’s resources to better unfortunate. In actuality, it may be inferred that unfortunate are actually worse off because Raskolnikov eliminated a primary source of credit. Still, Raskolnikov fails in the second part of his mission out of his own inexperience in crime, but also because he worrying incessantly about his own safety. He hasn’t come to grips with the idea of risking his own skin for the sake of others.
I think Nelson makes some good points about his inconstant nature that coincide with my views somewhat.
How close is this to a perfect crime?
Like Sarah I originally thought that this was no perfect crime but like Helena and Sarah I would have to agree that this crime is pretty close to perfect. He gets away from the crime, isn’t caught, doesn’t leave any traces to trace directly to him and is able to take away the suspicion that leads to him. Is it fate that Raskolnikov was chosen to kill the pawnbroker and get away with it? Who knows, maybe there is something waiting for Raskolnikov later on.
Looking at it in a modern, up-to-date view; Raskolnikov would have not gotten away with it. With all the technology that is available, I could imagine CSI: Russia and how the agents would be able to solve the case quickly finding Raskolnikov and putting him behind bars. Even just the fact that he shakes, sweats and even faints when they talk about the crime would subject him to a lie detector test cracking the mystery that he was the murderer.
Yet, being that it takes place in the past, getting away with things was much easier. And for Raskolnikov, committing this was the perfect crime. Yet was it worth it? It led Raskolnikov to way more than he probably could have anticipated for.
Its interesting to me that Raskolnikov’s crime is motivated by his concern for his sister. We have to remember Raskolnikov is a character in Dostoyevsky’s novel preaching salvation and Christ. Well, Raskolnikov has the idealism of an eagle but got a little misguided somewhere down the road. Notice how the dark smelly ugly little taverns and the stuffy rooms are described.
Dusty is really setting us up for a salvation story here and I’m interested in how it plays out. Raskolnikov is already guilty, but who knows how he will be redeemed. What my real burning question about this is, which will probably be answered better in a sociology class, is: If Russia’s writers and poets are the conscience of the country, then why has the country become so messed up? Of course there are the considerate factors of the fall of the Soviet Union and many other things, but it is very striking to me how such an important and moralizing literature reflects the society in which it exists.
Is the novel a search for motive? What drives Raskolnikov?
At this point, it’s hard to say whether or not this book searches out motive; what drives Raskolnikov seems somehow insignificant, even though readers spend most of their time inside his head and psyche (which would be most prone to betraying motive). Maybe this is Dostoyevsky’s way of showing how any number of petty ideas (even if it’s not a Robin Hood-like one, an idea seems to lie behind Raskolnikov’s actions) can drive anyone to murder? Perhaps motive doesn’t even matter, really, because Raskolnikov seems almost to have made up his mind from the very beginning of the book to commit this crime. The reader enters in medias res, barely before his “trial” run with the old pawnbroker. A more immediate drive for Raskolnikov’s crime is the fortunate circumstances that allow him the opportunity to commit it, as if he does so simply because it can be done. Again, we are no more than a third of the way through this novel, but my sense is that it isn’t a search for motive: maybe the reader feels spurred on to read because he desires to discover such a drive, but as multiple-time readers can probably attest, there is much more to this tale than Raskolnikov’s reasons for killing a self-centered hag and her sister, merely for a few items he must bury and cannot pawn. As its title suggests, Crime and Punishment concerns itself with a crime and its consequences, rather than antecedent premises. If this book was intended as a psychological portrait, then such a format seems all the more fitting, since it erases the oversimplified, one-to-one correspondence between motive and crime: such-and-such a drive results in such-and-such a crime. Instead, the reader is left trying to make out Raskolnikov’s character from the inside up, so suspecting such various but equally possible motives as good-doing (as a number of people have proposed), or liberating his sister (as Gene intuitively suggests). I will note, in conclusion, that it’s interesting how self-perpetuating Raskolnikov’s situation seems, in that he has taken time and work off to contemplate a crime, meanwhile incurring debts that can only be sated by committing said atrocity. The rational surety with which Raskolnikov kills is, to my mind, at least a result of the startling coincidence of luck, chance, fate, and personal nature.
What drives Raskolnikov?
Prior to Marmeladov’s death, Raskolnikov does not seem to be driven by anything. He continually makes rash and almost delirious decisions and comments. He seems to be exceedingly giving and unnecessarily harsh at the same time. Raskolnikov goes from shouting at Rasumikhin, who has been caring for him for the past five days, to giving a random prostitute much of his only money. He does not bother to look for food or water, although he is clearly described as haggard, sick and weak. Finally, he continually buys vodka and gets drunk – probably the worst possible medicine for his “illness”.
Raskolnikov’s illness obviously derives from his guilt over his crime. Although he was rather bizarre and irrational prior to the murders, his activity become more outlandish and aggressive after. It is clear that he is trying to be caught, which makes his crime almost more perfect. Who would expect a senseless, ill lunatic to commit the perfect crime? Clearly no one, considering he blatantly confesses to Lametov and only becomes interested in others when the murders are mentioned.
Of course, all of this changes at the death scene of Marmeladov. As a first time reader of “Crime and Punishment” with no prior knowledge, I am excited to see where Raskolkinov’s relationship with Marmeladov’s family takes him.