In this blog post, we’ll explore the questions we can ask ourselves as we read Fyodor Dostoevsky’s ‘Crime and Punishment’ and reflect on them together.
As we turn to Fyodor Dostoevsky’s (1821–1881) ‘Crime and Punishment’, let’s imagine ourselves for a moment as earnest young people swept up in passion and pose some profound questions. Though these are weighty questions, they are the kind any young person might ask, and if we were to boil them down to their simplest form, they would be as follows:
How can I live a meaningful life on my own terms? What does it mean to live well?
Of course, there is no answer. If there were an answer at all, it would lie solely within the question itself. Raskolnikov from ‘Crime and Punishment’ is a serious young man from 19th-century Russia who pushed that question to its most extreme and dramatic limits. As we read the novel, we become immersed in his questions, pondering and agonizing alongside him. Before we know it, his questions become our own. Who knows? Perhaps the moment we close the book and emerge from those questions alongside him, the entire world will have changed completely for us……
Raskolnikov murders an old pawnbroker. The reason is so simple that even those who haven’t read ‘Crime and Punishment’ are familiar with it. It stems from a so-called “theory” that if one kills such an old woman—who is of no benefit to anyone—and uses the money for a good cause, the act can never be considered a crime. Of course, that “theory” is riddled with flaws.
First of all, setting aside legal issues, it is simply impossible to morally justify one person killing another. Furthermore, no matter what excuse the murderer puts forward, he cannot help but feel pangs of conscience. Such moral and ethical dilemmas can never be weighed on the same scale as the public good—the idea that it’s acceptable as long as it benefits others. The premise itself is fundamentally flawed.
However, Raskolnikov’s dilemma is somewhat understandable when considering the circumstances in Russia at the time. The capital of Russia at that time was Saint Petersburg (Petersburg). Petersburg is a symbol of Russia’s modernization. It is not a city that grew naturally, but one built in the 18th century based on thoroughly rational calculations.
The city of St. Petersburg embodies the aspiration: “Farewell, old and backward Russia! Welcome, new and modernized homeland!” In short, St. Petersburg is a symbol of total “rejection” and “denial” of everything from the previous era, as well as a symbol of novelty. That “new homeland” refers precisely to a Europeanized Russia.
And the figure whom Russian youth embraced as a symbol of Europe was none other than Napoleon.
In the novel, Raskolnikov wants to become Napoleon himself. Who is Napoleon? He is the symbol of perfect ascent and transformation. He overcame every obstacle, rising from a mere lieutenant to become emperor and securing all the power and glory he desired.
He achieved all of this through the conviction and willpower that everything was permitted to him. Because he was an extraordinary figure, he felt no regret and was not plagued by unnecessary pangs of conscience. This was the myth of Napoleon that captivated the young people of St. Petersburg at the time.
Raskolnikov identifies himself with Napoleon. In short, he believed himself to be an extraordinary person destined to accomplish some great feat for all of humanity. But he is not Napoleon. Moreover, the Napoleon he has embraced is the mythologized Napoleon, not the actual “living Napoleon.”
Just because he was Napoleon doesn’t mean he was free from worries and conflicts. Isn’t the figure of Napoleon defined precisely by those very worries and conflicts?
Naturally, Raskolnikov also faces worries and conflicts. And the record of those worries and conflicts is the novel ‘Crime and Punishment’. Ultimately, the path he takes is not the path to becoming a hero like Napoleon, but the path to the salvation of his soul. That path is entirely different from Napoleon’s.
The reason that path—while entirely different from Napoleon’s—could become Raskolnikov’s own unique path is because he met Sonya.
Sonya is a prostitute. However, she became a prostitute to support her family. She willingly sacrificed herself for her family.
Raskolnikov says to Sonya, one thing after another: “Tell me! How can such shame and baseness coexist within you alongside the sacred feelings that are their very opposite? Wouldn’t it be better to jump headfirst into the water and end it all at once?”
“You’re all I have left now. Let’s go together… I came straight to you… Because we are both cursed, because we have crossed the line, and because we have both seen extreme misery in each other.”
“You’ll understand later. Didn’t you do the same thing? You’ve already crossed the line too……. Yes, you were able to cross the line……. You killed yourself……. You lost your life……. Your own life……. You’re alone……. But if you stay alone like that, you’ll end up going mad just like me. You’re practically already mad. So we have no choice but to go together. Come on, let’s go together!’
When Raskolnikov asks Sonia why she doesn’t reject him even after he has confessed to murder, she replies, “There’s no one in this world more miserable than you!”
That’s right. The reason they become one—the reason they fall in love—is because they are both cursed, because they have crossed the line, and because they have both seen extreme unhappiness in each other.
However, while both are equally unhappy, they are clearly different. Both have crossed a certain line in society. One is a murderer, and the other is a prostitute. Yet Sonia crossed that line out of love for her family and a spirit of self-sacrifice.
While Raskolnikov sacrificed others to test himself, Sonia sacrifices herself for others. Yet their attitudes after crossing that line are diametrically opposed. After crossing that line, Sonya feels ashamed and tormented by guilt, but Raskolnikov continues to insist that his crime was justified and seeks to rationalize it.
In their relationship, the role of the savior who redeems Raskolnikov naturally falls to Sonya. In the face of the “sacred emotions” of self-sacrifice and love, Raskolnikov is, in effect, making his confession.
What brings Raskolnikov and Sonya together and makes them love each other is not the romantic love we are familiar with. It is compassion. They do not fall in love because they are attracted to each other’s appearance; rather, the realization that “this person is suffering just as much as I am” is what binds them together.
Was it said that only the unhappy can truly understand the unhappy? Therefore, the greater their suffering, the deeper their love grows.
What do you think? If we could understand and empathize with the suffering of our neighbors—the people we meet every day—wouldn’t our understanding and love for them deepen as well? Let’s not misunderstand. I am not arguing that there can be no salvation or love without suffering. I simply want to ask: Is there anyone in this world who does not carry unhappiness and suffering in their heart?
What more needs to be said about the epilogue of this novel? Suffice it to say that it is a moving scene in which a man and a woman find salvation and are reborn through each other. Each becomes a fountain of life that sustains the other.
They tried to say something but could not. Tears welled up in their eyes. They were both pale and gaunt. Yet their sickly, pale faces were bathed in the light of a renewed future—the light of rebirth toward a new life. Love had resurrected them. In each of their hearts lay an inexhaustible fountain of life for the other.
If the themes raised by this novel feel too heavy or overwhelming, it’s perfectly fine to read it simply as an entertaining detective novel or psychological thriller. When read that way, we encounter Porfiry, a classic detective figure distinct from Javert in Victor Hugo’s ‘Les Misérables’.
As I read ‘Crime and Punishment’, I couldn’t help but see the protagonist of the television series ‘Columbo’ superimposed on the character of Porfiry. How similar he seemed, playing it cool while knowing everything. Could it be that the writer of ‘Columbo’ drew inspiration from Porfiry?
‘Crime and Punishment’ was serialized in several installments in the magazine ‘Russian Messenger’ in 1866 and published in two volumes the following year, in 1867. While the novel was being serialized, people read nothing but ‘Crime and Punishment’, and it received such an enthusiastic response that those interested in literature spoke of nothing else but this work.
Furthermore, the book’s influence was so great that some reviews noted sensitive readers found it so agonizing to read that they were on the verge of falling ill and had to stop reading halfway through. ‘Crime and Punishment’ has been adapted into about ten films and television dramas, each of which has been widely loved, and it has also been adapted into a comic book.
Dostoevsky was born in Moscow in 1821 as the second son of a father who was a doctor at a charity hospital and a deeply religious mother. In 1838, at the age of 17, he enrolled in the Engineering School and was commissioned as a non-commissioned officer in 1840. Two years later, he was commissioned as a second lieutenant and was discharged from the army in 1844 at the age of 23.
Thereafter, he devoted himself entirely to writing, publishing “The Poor Folk” in 1846 and continuing to release more than ten novels and short stories. Then, a life-changing event occurred.
Dostoevsky was not a revolutionary, either by temperament or personal conviction. However, he regularly attended gatherings of young writers who read the works of socialists such as Fourier and Proudhon. In 1849, he was arrested along with other writers on charges of being a subversive and sentenced to death.
In December of that year, he was dragged out to Semyonovsky Square and found himself on the brink of being shot. However, at the very last moment, the execution was halted by a special decree from the emperor, and his sentence was commuted to hard labor.
After serving the remaining four years of his sentence, he was released from prison in 1854. He then re-enlisted in the army and served until 1859, when he turned 38.
In 1861, the year he turned 40, the Emancipation Edict was enacted, and he published ‘The Wounded’ that same year. Despite being plagued by two afflictions—a gambling addiction and epilepsy—and constantly struggling with poverty and debt, his prolific writing never ceased.
He serialized ‘Crime and Punishment’ in 1866, ‘The Idiot’ in 1868, and ‘The Possessed’ in 1871; in 1879, he began serializing ‘The Brothers Karamazov’, which was published as a single volume the following year.
In 1881, at the age of 60, he suffered a ruptured artery and died on January 28; he was buried in the cemetery of the Alexander Nevsky Lavra in St. Petersburg.
No one disputes that he is considered one of Russia’s two greatest writers alongside Tolstoy, nor does anyone hesitate to call him a master who ranks among the greatest in the history of world literature.
