Book of the Week

Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoyevsky
Recommended by Arun Burman

Crime and Punishment was one of the first novels in history to combine profound, pressing philosophical questions with a murder plot more commonly associated with popular fiction than classical literature. The novel lifted Dostoyevsky’s reputation as both a psychological and philosophical novelist, and exerts an influence in Russia comparable to Shakespeare’s within Britain. Its philosophical ideas and psychological insight have pervaded literature ever since.

The story follows an obstinate and struggling student named Rodion Raskolnikov who has sunk into an abject depression, underneath the portentous St Petersburg sky. After selling his valuables to a curmudgeonly and supercilious pawnbroker, he develops an inexorable urge to rob and murder her. Perhaps unexpectedly, the murder is merely the premise of the novel, and it is Raskolnikov’s gradual descent into guilt, penitence and madness that the majority of the book is comprised of.

My main critique of the novel would be the lack of connection the reader feels with the protagonist, Rodion. His carelessness and lack of empathy makes him hard to sympathise with; particularly in contrast with other Dostoyevsky protagonists such as the benevolent and magnanimous Prince Myshkin in The Idiot. Despite this, Rodion remains a deeply intriguing, and, at times, disconcerting character. To grapple with his complex characterisation, I drew upon the metaphors which Friedrich Nietzche proposes in his novel Thus Spoke Zarathustra. Nietzsche presents humanity as a transition between the animal and the Übermensch (superman). Hence, Nietzsche suggests that the superman is what an ordinary human can become once they step beyond typical mortality and start to think independently.

Applying this philosophy to Crime and Punishment, we can say Rodion attempts to walk across the tightrope between conventional morality and independence, but fails, mistaking false transcendence for self-overcoming, which is what makes his journey throughout the book so tense and agonising. Ultimately, his existential awakening is not the one he initially seeks, leaving only a vestige of the superiority he believed himself to possess. Thus, Rodion is a complex and therefore intriguing character, despite being unlikeable.

Rodion aside, the profusion of characters in the book and the timing with which they emerge sustained my interest in pursuing the relatively long-winded novel. Whether Sonya Marmeladova, a pious young woman forced into prostitution or Svidrigailov, an enigmatic and sardonic subordinate who represents moral nihilism, the novel is abounding with interesting characters. Dostoyevsky depicts each character with remarkable candour and psychological depth. Their differing outlooks prevented the novel from ever becoming monotonous to me, despite its considerable length.

On balance, I would certainly recommend Crime and Punishment to anyone interested in reading classical literature from across the globe. Although the profusion of names can initially be disconcerting, this is a minor dilemma in comparison with the novel’s enduring philosophical relevance.