Book Review: Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky

Cover of Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky (translated by Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky)

It's been more than three weeks since I finished Crime and Punishment (C&P). Not a day passes by when I don't relate to something from it. It's a different argument if it is good or bad to be relating to such a book and such unfortunate characters, but what's indisputable is that this book is a masterpiece. Of the few books that I have read, not all of them have the ability to draw me into their own world and make me a live spectator of the story as it unfolded.

Unjustified Critique

Earlier last year, I had read White Nights, which did not impress me much. For a novella, it felt too layered, the character was too gloomy, and the writing felt forced; glorifying and romanticising a certain loneliness and depression. But after reading C&P, I would like to revisit that book, which I feel I criticised incorrectly, in the wrong context and probably too harshly. There seems to be a stark similarity in the design and personalities of both these protagonists, like characters spun from the same spool of thread.

An Indian Parallel

Another interesting, and somewhat strange, thing I noticed is that Raskolnikov from C&P and Chander from Gunahon ka Devta by Dharamvir Bharati have a lot in common! While I was reading C&P, I kept wondering if someone can match the captivating, layered storytelling of Fyodor Dostoevsky (FD) in my own language, and the only name that struck was Bharati. Both their respective characters live more in their minds than in the world outside. They both have an inflated sense of self-worth. And though Chander did not commit a physical crime like Raskolnikov, both of them are arrested in their own dysfunctional moral compass, unfortunately to their own detriment. Moreover, both these authors have a similar deep, layered writing style which goes beyond characters and arcs. In the books quoted above, they have both utilised a practical social backdrop to establish a crime which transcends the physical realm.

Plot & Protagonist

Coming back to C&P, I think the genius of the book lies in its execution and open secret nature. Even though we know beforehand that Raskolnikov commits a crime, and it is popularly known to be a murder, the reader is hypnotically drawn into the circumstances that lead to the act.

The book revolves around Rodion Romanovich Raskolnikov, his crime and his punishment. It opens at a sluggish pace, describing everyday, mundane events occurring in the life of Raskolnikov and his underwhelming response to them. Then, it slowly transcends from the physical to the mental domain, breaking down Rodion's mindset and outlook along the way, thus captivating and creating a viewpoint for the reader to descend into nineteenth-century St. Petersburg and follow Rodion's journey, as both his judge and his advocate.

As the story progresses, we encounter the same characters repeatedly, until they get familiar like acquaintances rather than words on a page. More importantly, through these encounters, we get more and more acquainted with the protagonist's patterns of thought. While there may be many more qualified readings of this book, after weeks of thinking and overthinking about it, I can only conclude that this book is a thought experiment on what moral exceptionalism does to an isolated, proud intellect and the damage that follows from the fragility of those traits.

Moral Exceptionalism

While moral principles are absolutely universal and must be upheld regardless, the author explores what would happen if moral judgements are treated as relative. For reference, we know that corruption is wrong. This has been so forever and there is never an exception to it. But can a certain individual, by virtue of their perceived 'greatness' or 'utility' to society, earn an exception to be rightfully corrupt?

In essence, all evil is rooted in a broken moral compass and this is certainly true in the case at hand. In a society where education is a privilege, the educated class exhibits a tendency to elevate itself to a 'middle class', apart from the nobility, and above the peasantry. This acts as a way for this class to safeguard its pride, socialise within itself and justify its minor overstepping by presenting a compelling and unified case for gaining legal concessions for their so-called tribe on account of their utility to society. This has been observed to be the case in most civilizations across the globe. Similarly, another universal fact has been the presence of classes within classes. The lower rung of this pseudo-elite class has always been the victim of an existential dread for neither being able to compete with the upper rung nor being able to accept the peasantry. In turn, striking their imagination to think of how, by virtue of their affiliation to this 'middle class', they can justify the means to their ends.

In our case, the protagonist is a generally well-intentioned, educated youth, yet his degrading lifestyle plunges him into thoughts that would otherwise appear blasphemous to a sane man. He begins to believe that, owing to his education and higher intellect, he is not ordinary and therefore should not be bound by the same restrictions as the masses. He convinces himself that being an "extraordinary" man, with the capacity to achieve remarkable things for the greater good of society, exempts him from the burden of the "ordinary" man's obedience. The turning point of his life comes when, engulfed by pride, moral exceptionalism and certainty in his own correctness, he chooses to act on his thoughts and commit a crime. What is ultimately revealed is that his own humanity and psychological fragility lead to his punishment.

Note: I am deliberately not discussing the exact nature of Raskolnikov’s thinking about his crime and punishment to avoid spoiling the book. I may explore this in a separate essay someday.

Relevance Today

There are many pieces of art that can be called masterpieces, each shaped by its own time, culture, context and ideas. But the ones that truly stand out for me are those that feel timeless. C&P is one such work, transcending boundaries to become an enduring piece of art. What intrigues me is how a novel published in 1866, rooted in Russian urban society, can feel so familiar to a reader in India in 2026 or, for that matter, anywhere in the world.

FD uses the onset of modernisation and westernisation in the late nineteenth-century St. Petersburg to frame Rodion's outlook. The rise of liberalism and individualism pushes a man to pursue personal aspirations, but living away from the comfort of his home and community takes its toll. This results in a form of self-isolation, or what we might call modern alienation. In this sense, FD critiques the erosion of traditional moral and communal structures and presents a modern individual drowning in his own rationalizations, an idea far ahead of its time. This environment also widens the scope for comparison, anxiety, and dread, which can harden itself into frustration and psychological instability, and in turn shape the conditions in which urban crime becomes more likely. It seems that many of FD's insights in C&P have, unfortunately, proved prophetic.

Conclusion

This is not a book you can easily move on from. The book stays with you long after you've read the last page, making you sit with uncomfortable questions and ideas. It makes you ponder the story, the characters, yourself, the age old dilemma of whether the ends can ever justify the means and the psychological cost of believing they can. This is what makes Crime & Punishment a timeless piece of art and a read worth your time.