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Crime and Punishment
Fyodor Dostoevsky

The concept of criminal intent can be seen from a variety of perspectives. Not every crime is committed without complete regard to morals, and strategizing a crime can be the first step in manifesting a theory. Speculating and committing are two separate actions, however, when the murderer is spurred by guilt and fear into self-examination. In Crime and Punishment, Dostoevsky dares to explore the psychological torture that the student Raskolnikov endures after he commits murder to attest one such theory that he believes to be genius.

Raskolnikov’s idea is that humankind is divided into two classes: those who simply maintain society, and those who move it forward. The extraordinary men in history have belonged to this second group, and because their actions are beneficial to humanity and the world, they stand above the law—crimes they commit to produce their contributions are simply stepping stones. Driven by frustrations of poverty and seclusion, Raskolnikov murders an old pawn broker, a rat of a human as he sees her, believing that it will be a personal and contributory accomplishment. But he kills the woman’s innocent sister as well, out of necessity, and it is not the ideal feat, cleansing and empowering, that he had designed. Fear of detection and repulsion at his action drive Raskolnikov through physical illness, to the very edge of madness, and into a mental punishment of intellectual suffering. He struggles at alienating his mother and sister, rejects the help of his friend, and finds solace only with a pitiful young prostitute in whom he recognizes a kind of stubborn strength with which she too bears the suffering from her sins.
The book would not work if Raskolnikov was not a likable, at least sympathetic, character. He is not a bad guy despite his manslaughter record; he is actually extremely bent on doing the right thing. He brings up the curious contemplation of making oneself blind to reason by over analyzing, and having everything thrown out of perspective. I could immediately relate to this, of course on a smaller scale. Raskolnikov is perhaps too smart for his own good, too intellectual to be rational, but once he fails to obtain the superiority he believes himself to be heir to, what is clear is that he is only foolishly human.

The narrative, though dense, is comprehensive rather than rambling. This was my first taste of Russian Literature, and I was actually surprised at how accessible the writing was. It covers the complexities of each of the many characters, molds a sculpture of every soul, and renders the interactions they have with one another. It is the other people whom Raskolnikov comes into contact with and the constant turns in events they impress that puts his internal frenzies into context for him. He weighs and totters between his narrowing options—freedom from the law or from his own mind. The story is suspenseful and foremost it is bold: it’s an analysis of human character and the extremities which our own minds can bend us to.