I FEAR MANY DO NOT READ THIS BOOK BECAUSE IT'S DEFINITELY, NOT AN EASY READ. I'M OF AVERAGE INTELLIGENCE, NO HIGHER LEARNING OTHER THAN LIVING A SPELL. HELL! THAT'S LEARNING . . . FOR SURE! I'VE SUMMARIZED SEVEN CHAPTERS, PART ONE. THERE'S A HEAPING HELPING LEFT, AS IN 470 PAGES. I'VE ONLY BEGUN, THE TITLE OF THIS NOVEL IS . . . "CRIME .. . AND . . . PUNISHMENT.
"He was as dark and dramatic as the great novels he wrote.
His prison experiences coupled with his conversion to a conservative and profound religious philosophy formed the basis for his great novels. But it was his fortitous marriage to Anna Snitkina, following a period of utter destitution brought about by his compulsive gambling, that gave Dostoevsky the emotional stability to complete Crime and Punishment." Peter Frank
Raskolnikov a former student has been reduced to poverty, laying about for several weeks. He is in a very agitated state, unwilling to talk about money, not afraid of his landlady just not interested in listening to such trivial matters. Wondering to himself, "What are people most afraid of? A new step, their own new world, that's what they're most afraid of . . . I babble too much, however. That's why I don't do anything, because I babble. However, maybe it's like this: I babble because I don't do anything. I've learned to babble over this past month, lying in a corner day in and day out, thinking about cuckoo . . . land
(I THINK THE LAST FEW SENTENCES SET UP THE START OF THE BOOK NICELY.)
Stench from the many taverns in Petersburg does not help his troubled mind. He's off to see the pawnbroker Alyona Ivanova, dressed in clothes that others would not venture out in.
(I ABSOLUTELY MUST GIVE THE DESCRIPTION OF THIS WOMAN.)
"She was a tiny dried up crone, about sixty, with sharp, spiteful little eyes and a small, sharp nose. She was bareheaded, and her colorless and slightly graying hair was thickly greased. Her long, thin neck, which resembled a chicken's leg, was wrapped in some flannel rags, despite the heat, a fur-trimmed jacket, completely worn out, and yellowed with age, hung loosely from the shoulders. The old woman coughed and groaned all the time."
While pawning his father's watch, Raskolinov studies the apartment. After leaving he was troubled, he exclaimed:
" Oh God, how loathsome this all is! And can it be, can it be that I . . . no it's nonsense, it's absurd!" he added resolutely. "Could such horror really come into my head? But then, what filth my heart is capable of! . . . Above all, filth, nasty, vile, vile! . . . And for the whole month I . . ."
He goes into a tavern, after one drink his his mind clears.
Here Raskolinov encounters a man who looks possibly to be a retired official in his fifties, with some gray in his hair and a large bald spot, with a yellow, even greenish, face, swollen from constant drinking, his eyes shone, tiny as slits, but lively. Dressed in an old, completely ragged black frock coat. There was something very strange in him; HIS EYES SEEMED TO BE LIT WITH RAPTURE--perhaps there were sense and reason as well, but at the same time there seemed also to be A FLICKER OF MADNESS IN THEM. He looks at Raskolnikov and said loud and firmly:
"May I venture my dear sir, to engage you in a conversation of decency? My experience distinguishes in you an educated man, unaccustomed to drink. I am a titular councillor, (titular is the lowest grade of civil service.) Marmeladov--such is my name.
He sat down catercorner to him. He was drunk, but spoke loquaciously (very talkative) and glibly (smoothly) sometimes getting a bit confused. Seemed to Raskolnikov as though he had not talked to anyone for quite sometime.
Marmeladov talks on about everything pretty much this whole chapter. (Dostoevsky knows well about drunks. His father was one, thought killed by his own servants.) Marmeladov's addiction to drink ruins, his whole family. Not holding a job brings such poverty and hardships to Sonya his eldest daughter from his first wife, his second wife is dying of consumption (tuberculosis) and has three children from her previous marriage. (Dostoevsky paints a brilliant in depth picture of alcoholism's destruction to a family. Doestoesvsky's own wife died of consumption gives his first hand knowledge to the character Katerina Marmeladov.) The saddest part of this family is that Sonya Marmeladov at the age of 16 has to get a yellow card (showing her a prostitute) to feed her step mother as well and children, plus her drunken father. There seemed to be no other way for the destitute family to live because of Marmrladov's addiction. She's now forced to find lodgings elsewhere from shame. SHE'S FORCED INTO BEING THE SACRIFICIAL LAMB AS RASKOLNIKOV SEES IT. (PLEASE REMEMBER THAT.)
This chapter is about a letter from Raskolnikov's mother. She writes, "You are all Dunya (his sister) and I have. We were heartbroken to learn that you had left the university for lack of funds. The money I sent you four months ago was borrowed against my pension. I could not send you more until the debt was paid. Good fortune may allow me to send you more soon. Your sister has been living with me now for a month and a half, and in the future we shall not part again.
Dunya took a job as governess taking a years pay in advance, she suffered much in Mr. and Mrs.Svidrigailov's house. Dunya could not leave until the debt was paid. We deceived you last year, we wrote saying the money we sent you was from money Dunya had saved, but that was not so, now I am telling you the whole truth, so that you will know how much Dunya loves you. She took this position mainly in order to send you money which you so desperately needed then, now everything, by God's will, has suddenly changed for the better, and so that you will know how Dunya loves you, and what a precious heart she has."
(MR. SVIDGRIGAIL IS A MOST IMPORTANT ONE TO REMEMBER.)
(I'll shorten the letter from Pulcheria Raskolnikov. Raskolnikov's mother. I'll give you a taste of a rather lengthly letter.)
While under the influence of drink, Mr. Svidrigailov treated Dunya rudely, concealing his passion for her. He could not restrain himself and offered Dunya a proposition. He would abandon everything and go away with her. By chance Mrs. Svidrigailov overheard this discussion, misinterpreting everything laid the whole blame on Dunya, even striking Dunya! Dunya was dismissed.
Mrs. Svidrigailov ruined Dunya's name in the town, then Mr. Svidrigailov set the record straight with proof Dunya was innocent in a letter written before the overheard conversation in the garden, Mrs. Svidrigailov was so touched by the truth of the letter she went out of her way to make amends.She restores Dunya's honor and lay all the blame all on Mr, Svidrigailov.
A distant relative of Mrs, Svidrigailov has asked Dunya to marry him, a court councillor, Pyotr Petrovich Luzhin. A man of fourty five much older than Dunya who will soon move to Petersburg. The wedding is more of a consensual arrangement.
The overall tone of the letter disagrees terribly with Raskolnikov. Seems as though his mother and sister is betting their future on this man. Not discussing this matter with him is unacceptable. Dunya will not marry Pyotr Luzhin and the matter is closed as far as he is concerned. HIS THOUGHTS ARE THAT DUNYA HAS BECOME THE SACRIFICIAL LAMB FOR HER FAMILY GUARANTEEING HIS FUTURE FOR HIM AND HE WILL NOT HAVE IT! JUST AS SONYA MARMELADOV DID IN THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER!
While reading the letter Raskolnikov's face was wet with tears; in finishing, it was, pale, twisted convulsively, and a heavy, bilious, spiteful smile wandered over his lips. His heart was beating wildly, and the thoughts surged violently, he felt stifled, craving space, he left talking, whispering, to himself. Passers-by took him for drunk, making his way towards Vasilievsky Island.
I HAVE DRASTICALLY CURTAILED THIS CHAPTER, BUT HOPEFULLY KEPT ENOUGH OF THE MAIN POINTS. IF I CAN'T I'LL NEVER FINISH. I'M A WORKS IN PROCESS ATTEMPTING SOMETHING POSSIBLY, IMPOSSIBLE. I HOWEVER ENJOY A CHALLENGE! IF YOU HANG TOUGH WITH ME, WE'LL GET THROUGH IT. BELIEVE ME WHEN I SAY THE BEST IS YET TO COME!!!! Glen......... My hope is to get you the readers who have tried to read this complicated book to maybe, read along with me! That surely would tickle the cockles of my heart!
I WILL READ THE BOOK AND SHORTEN IT AS MUCH AS I CAN WITHOUT DESTROYING. (There is however little happenings that carry much meaning going on in between the main story line.)
IF I FEEL LIKE I CAN'T GET THERE WELL . . WE'LL HAVE TO SEE!
Raskolinov, "This marriage will not take place as long as I live, and to the devil with Mr. Luzhin!
Anger boiled within, and the more he thought that if he met Mr. Luzhin, right then he might kill him! A whirlwind of thoughts were spinning. Dunya is selling herself for her brother and her mother's security that is clear, she'll sell herself, her moral feelings, freedom, peace of mind, even her conscience for her beloved family. Do you know, Dunya, that Sonya Marmeladov is no way worse than yours with Mr, Luzhin?"
He tormented himself with these thoughts. They had tortured him long ago and his present anguish ripened recently and become concentrated, taking the form of a horrible, wild, and fantastic question that tormented his heart and mind, demanding resolution.
A sudden realization hits him, forbid the marriage, what can he do? He has been fleecing them! The money borrowed from Svidrigailovs where Dunya had to endure so much . . . for him! He's in no position to help, old torments concerning these questions had long ago worn out his heart. Long, long ago this present anguish was born within. It's now ripened from growth, taking the form of a horribly wild and fantastic question that tormented his heart and mind, demanding resolution. His mother's letter struck him like a thunderbolt, he must do something without fail, quickly at all cost, or . . . "Or renounce life altogether!" he cried out. "Accept fate obediently as it is, once and for all, and stifle myself everything in myself, renouncing any right to act, to live, to love!"
"Do you understand, my dear sir, what it means when there is no place left to go?" He suddenly recalled Marmeladov's question from yesterday. "For it is necessary that every man have at least somewhere to go."
A thought "race through his head," but the difference was that a month ago, even yesterday, it was only a dream, but now . . . now it suddenly is not a dream, but in a new menacing, unfamiliar form. It hit him and everything went dark before his eyes. He wanted to sit down, and was looking for a bench.
There was a bench about a hundred steps ahead, he then spots a woman about twenty steps away, and notices something strange about this womam, and so striking that he became riveted on her--reluntantly at first, and then with annoyance. He wanted to understand what was so strange about her. She was very young and bareheaded, no parasol, no gloves, swinging her arms rediculously. Her dress was oddly put on, and torn behind at the waist, near the top of the skirt a whole strip had come away and hanging loosely. She was walking unsteady, reeling this way and that. The encounter aroused all of Raskolinov's attention. He caught up with her at the bench just as she collapsed on it at one end, apparently from extreme fatigue. She was drunk, how strange. She was young about sixteen, maybe fifteen, small, fair, pretty, but all flushed as if swollen. The girl seemed to understand very little, by all appearances unaware she was in the street.
Raskolnikov did not sit, and did not want to go away, he stood perplexed in front of her. The street was deserted from the heat of the day except for one gentlemen who had stopped, by all evidence would like to approach the girl with certain intentions! Raskolinov was hindering the man from approaching the girl and was looking at him angrily, waiting his turn. This was clear, Raskolnikov suddenly becomes terribly angry, he left the girl for moment to insult the fat dandy.
"Hey, you, what do you want here! "he shouted, clenching his teeth and laughing, foaming with spite. While arguing a policeman steps in between them. Raskolnikov takes the policeman to the bench, showing him the poor girl. The policeman understood all at once, "ah what a pity!" he said, shaking his head. "Seems quite a child still. Deceived, that's what it is. Listen, miss," he began calling her, "tell me, where you live?" She could not respond and simply waved her hand. "Miss, eh, miss?" the policeman tried again. Raskolnikov reached into his pocket handing the the policeman money for a coachman to take her home. "Shoo! . . . pests! . . ." she muttered, and again waved her hand,.
"Ah what a shame we've got in the world now! Lord! Such an ordinary young girl, she's been deceived, what depravity we've got nowadays! We've got many like that nowadays, she looks like one of the pampered ones, like a young lady, look at how her little dress is torn!" as the policeman looks at her.
"The main thing is to keep that scoundrel over there somehow, you can see what he wants of her!"
"Prevent him we can, sir, " the policeman replied assuredly. He tries once more to find her address.
"Pah! Shameless . . . pests!" she said, waving her arms once again, She rose from the bench, staggering in the direction she had come from.
"Don't worry, I won't let him sir, what depravity we've got nowadays!" the policeman said.
At that moment Raskolnikov mind made an about turn. "Forget it let the fat dandy have fun. What is it to you?"
(Important to show how Raskolnikov's mind can change from one moment to another.)
No matter what he just said it pained him terribly! He wished he could become totally oblivious of everything, and then wake up and start totally anew . .
"And where am I going?" Too see Razumikhin as if he just now understood where he was going.
Razumikhin a former university friend. Raskolnikov had almost no friends while at the university. He kept away from everyone, so they turned away from him. He was a zealous student, respected for it but no one liked him. He was poor, proud and unsocialable. Many fellow students felt as though he looked upon them as children, from above, as though he were ahead of them all in development, knowledge and in convictions, and that he regarded their convictions and interest as somrthing inferior.
Yet for some reason he became close with Razumikhin--that is, not really close, more socialable, more frank with him.
Razumikhin was an exceptionally cheerful, socialable fellow, kind to the point of simplicity. However this simplicity concealed both depth and dignity. His friends understood that; everyone loved him. His appearance was expressive--tall, thin, black-haired, always badly shaved. He could be violent on occasion and was a very strong man. Once he knocked down a six-and-a-half-foot policeman with one blow. Razumikhin was remarkable in that no setbacks ever stopped him, and no bad circumstances seemed able to crush him. He was very poor, supporting himself on his own, getting money by work of one sort or another. At present he too, had been forced to leave the university. Raskolnikov has not seen Razumikhin in four months. Two months ago they had chanced to meet in the street, but Raskolnikov turned away crossing to the other side of the street as not to be noticed. Razumikhin did notice, passed by, not wishing to trouble a fiend. (RAZUMIKHIN IS IMPORTANT TO REMEMBER.)
Why he was going to see Razumikhin troubled him more than he was even aware; he anxiously tried to find some sinister meaning for himself in this seemingly quite ordinary act.
"So did I really mean to have Razumikhin help me straighten everything out?" he asked in surprise.
After much reflection almost by chance he comes to the realization, "I will go to Razumikhin after THAT, once THAT is already finished and everything has taken a new course . . . " And suddenly he comes to his senses. "After THAT, " he cried out, "but will THAT be?"
He was about to go back home, but suddenly it seemed terribly disgusting; it was there where THAT had been so he just followed his nose.
His nervous trembling turned into some sort of feverishness; he began shivering; in such heat he was getting a chill. He kept walking unaware of where he was going, finding himself free of the stench and taverns.
Raskolnikov was quite out of touch. He found the greenness and freshness pleased him, soon the pleasant sensations turned painful and irritating. He went into an eating-house and drank a glass of vodka and ate a piece of pie. He had not drunk vodka for a long time, suddenly his feet become heavy, and he had a strong inclination to sleep. He started for home but stopped in complete exhaustion, left the road, went into the bushes, collapsed on the grass, and in a moment was asleep.
Morbid dreams, are always long remembered and produce a long impression on the disturbed and the already excited organism of the person.
(((THIS IS WHAT I WISH TO SAY ABOUT DREAMS. MANY PEOPLE SAY THEY DON'T REMEMBER THEIR DREAMS. I MOST CERTAINLY DREAM A LOT AND REMEMBER THE MOST ASTOUNDING ONES THAT LEAVE AN EVERLASTING INPRINT. WHEN I AWAKE IN THE MIDDLE OF THESE DREAMS THE EMOTIONS ARE REAL!
RASKOLNIKOV'S DREAM GOES ON THE BETTER PART OF SIX PAGES. I CANNOT SHORTEN AND DO IT JUSTICE. PLEASE VISIT CHAPTER FIVE OF MY POST "THE DREAM," OR IF YOU HAVE THE BOOK PLEASE READ IT YOU WON'T BE SORRY!
Raskolnikov wakes from the dream all in a sweat, his hair was damp, stands up filled with terror.
"Thank God it was only a dream!" he said while leaning back against a tree, drawing a deep breath. "But what's wrong? Am I coming down with a fever? Such a hideous dream!"
His whole body was as if broken; his soul was dark and troubled. He leaned his elbows on his knees and rest his chin in both hands.
"God!" he exclaimed, "but can it be, can it be, that that I will really take an axe and hit her on the head and smash her skull . . . slip in the sticky warm blood, break the lock, steal, and tremble, and hide all covered with blood . . . with the axe . . . Lord can it be?"
He was trembling like a leaf as he said it.
"I wouldn't dare! I couldn't endure it, I couldn't! . . . What has this been all along? . . ."
He was pale, exhausted, but he suddenly seemed to breath more easy as he walked toward home wondering how he got there. He felt he had thrown off the terrible burden that had weighed him down for so long, and his soul become light and peaceful. "Lord!" he pleaded, "show me my way; I renounce this cursed . . . dream of mine!"
He was now free of that spell as he walks along unaware of his fatigue as though an absess in his heart had been forming all month had suddenly burst.
Something is about to happen that predetermines his fate. Why did he returned home the longest way through the Haymarket where he had no need to go? An accidental encounter happens in the Haymarket comes at such an hour and such moment in his life to produce the most decisive and final effect on his entire fate? As if it had been waiting for him there on purpose!
It was late as he walked through the Haymarket, the merchants were locking up, removing their tables packing away their wares. Raskolnikov liked these places near the taverns, his ragged clothing attracted no attention. He happens upon a tradesman and his wife discussing business with Lizaveta Ivanova, the younger sister of the same old woman, Alyona Ivanova, the pawnbroker. Upon seeing Lizaveta deep amazement overcomes him. He overhears them telling Lizaveta to return between six and seven tomorrow to claose a sales.She often buys and sales for a small commission.
Raskolnikov's amazement upon hearing the conversation gave way to horror, a chill was running down his spine. He had learned all at once that the old woman WOULD BE LEFT AT HOME ALONE.
He was not far from his place. He walked in like a man condemned to deah. He was totally unable to reason; but he suddenly felt with his whole being that he no longer had any freedom either of mind or of will, and that everything had been suddenly and finally decided.