“Crime is a protest against the abnormality of the social set-up.”

Synopsis

Crime and Punishment explores criminality, morality, and class through the unravelling narrative of a murderer caught between blood and truth. 

Criminality and Class

Dostoevsky uses Crime and Punishment as a mouthpiece for his political ideas on social class and the likelihood of individuals  committing crime, commenting on the poverty faced by people of the time. He writes:

“Poverty is no vice […] drunkenness is no virtue […] But destitution is a vice. In poverty you may still preserve the nobility of your inborn feelings, but in destitution, no one ever does.”

This not only demonstrates how those in financial struggles turn to alcoholism, but also to criminality, as the “nobility” of one’s “inborn feelings” is “swept away with a broom.” This hurts the “poor man’s ego,” and hence, turns to crime in search of a new sense of identity. 

Dostoevsky expands on this further when he suggests that it is not only the lower classes who turn to crime, but that criminality can arise in any social class. He illustrates this in the quote: 

“Crime has been increasing among the upper classes as well, […] people of advanced social position have been counterfeiting bank notes […] [and] forged tickets for the latest lottery. ‘Everybody is getting rich one way or another, so I wanted to get rich quickly, too.’” 

This passage echoes Dostoevsky’s belief that it is not only the poor who turn to crime out of financial struggle, but also the rich, in their efforts to preserve their wealth. In times of economic crisis, wealth becomes something to be hoarded — even killed for. 

This is the very situation that the narrator, Raskolnikov, finds himself in when he murders his landlady. He ensnares her with a fake pawn tightly wrapped so that when she goes to untie it, he pounces:

“He took the axe all the way out, swung it with both hands, scarcely aware of himself, and almost without effort, almost mechanically, brought the butt-end down on her head. […] he struck her again and yet again with all his strength […] Blood poured out as from an overturned glass and the body fell backwards.” 

Raskolnikov’s mechanical movements reveal his fragile state of mind, yet his robotic precision also suggests premeditation, as his desperation to cling to his lodgings grows. As he leaves the scene of the crime with a purse “stuffed full,” he encounters Lizaveta “staring at her murdered sister,” which compels him to act, and he kills her too. Both murders mirror his belief that he is a “victim of environment,” and therefore, kills to preserve his own security. 

Misogyny, Marriage, and Money

Raskolnikov is a misogynistic narrator, constantly demeaning and objectifying women. Even by the novel’s end, his romance with Sonya serves primarily his own benefit, bringing about his “gradual regeneration” and giving him a “new life.” She loves him despite the murders, yet their relationship is completely male-focused, as it exists solely to comfort him. This dynamic likely stems from her profession as a prostitute,  which leads Raskolnikov to view her as an object — something he can use for his own redemption rather than recognise her as a human.  

This idea is expanded on in the epilogue, where Sonya’s femininity becomes almost “medicinal” to Raskolnikov’s criminality. She is not viewed as fully human, but rather as a vessel in which his crimes become a part of her. This is further illustrated in the quote: 

“They still had seven years more, and until then so much unbearable suffering and so much infinite happiness! But he was risen and he knew it, he felt it fully with the whole of his renewed being, and she–she lived just by his life alone!” 

This quote completely disregards Sonya’s life as her own, reducing it to one she lives for Raskolnikov. Despite Dostoevsky’s attempt at crafting a romance that grants Raskolnikov a “second life,” it feels deeply misogynistic and reminiscent of the “Manic Pixie Dream Girl” trope — a narrative device in which the woman exists solely to help the male protagonist “find himself” and become a fully formed human being, while she remains a narrative device  rather than a fleshed-out person. Whether or not this was intentional on Dostoevsky’s part, it feels reductive to the character of Sonya and women as a whole.

Raskolnikov also reveals his misogyny through his anger at women who seek financial stability through marriage. This is most evident when he learns of Dunya’s possible betrothal to Mr. Luzhin, which provokes an explosive reaction:

“she would never sell her soul, she would never trade her moral freedom for comfort. […] even if Mr Luzhin were made entirely out of the purest gold, or a solid diamond, she would still not consent to become Mr Luzhin’s lawful concubine! Then why has she consented now? What’s the catch? […] for herself, for her own comfort, even to save herself from death, she wouldn’t sell herself; no, she is selling herself for someone else!” 

Despite his anger at the possibility of Dunya marrying Luzhin, a man he is distrustful of, there is also an underlying, projective anger that suggests Raskolnikov almost envies women for their “freedom” to marry for stability. Despite rejecting the job offers presented to him in the novel as a way out of his economic crisis, he continues to believe himself to be  a “victim of the environment.” Even without this, the phrasing “lawful concubine” emphasises his internalised misogyny and his belief that women exist as sexual objects to fulfil male desire. The word ‘concubine’ itself refers to a woman of lower status than a man — a mistress.

So, while Luzhin is ignoble and exploitative, believing Dunya to be a desperate woman in solitude he can  “save” through marriage, Raskolnikov is no better himself.

Police Psychological Procedure and Confessions

The police procedure within Crime and Punishment is quite atypical, following an officer who allows the narrator to believe he has “gotten away” with the crime until the later chapters. This sense of  psychological entrapment is explored in the quote: 

“Freedom will no longer be dear to him, he’ll fall to thinking, get entangled, he’ll tangle himself all up as in a net, he’ll worry himself to death!” 

Here, the plot ensues a cat-and-mouse chase, which was relatively amusing at first, becomes drawn out and tedious by the end. This was not helped by the incessant “he-he-he’s,” presumably added for comedic effect, which quickly grew dull and grating. 

However, Petrovich’s psychological analysis of Raskolnikov’s behaviour is ultimately what convinces him to confess. By subtly dropping hints that he knows the truth, Petrovich torments Raskolnikov, backing him into a corner where any attempt to escape only makes him look even more suspicious. This demonstrates Petrovich’s clear understanding of the fragile nature of Raskolnikov’s mind and his awareness that continued pressure will eventually cause him to break. Yet, in the end, it is Sonya who finally gets Raskolnikov to confess.

Before going to the police to confess, Raskolnikov speaks to his family about his crime, a moment that powerfully reflects how he feels about his actions before speaking to Sonya. The quote reads:

“Crime? What crime? […] I killed a vile, pernicious louse, a little old money-lending crone who was of no use to anyone, to kill whom is worth forty sins forgiven, who sucked the life-sap from the poor–is that a crime?” 

This moment clearly demonstrates Raskolnikov’s psychological belief that he is a “victim of the environment” (the Napoleonic ideology he often references) and evidently, at this stage, Raskolnikov does not view the murder as a crime, but rather as the removal of someone exploitative of the poor by “sucking the life-sap” from them. This social commentary links back to Dostoevsky’s ideas of criminality and class, suggesting that in destitution, people may become desperate enough to justify their crimes.

However, after speaking to Sonya about his crime, Raskolnikov’s views begin to shift. This sudden change is motivated by his (debatable) romantic feelings for Sonya, and his desire for forgiveness from her. He wishes to remain loved by her, and if that means confessing to murder, and “bearing the burden,” he is willing to do it. 

This is reflected in the quotes: 

“I’ve come for your crosses, Sonya. You’re the one who was sending me to the crossroads; why turn coward now it’s come to business?”

 and again, 

“You yourself wanted me to go; well, so I’ll be locked up in jail and your wish will be fulfilled; so, why are you crying?”

But even with his “strange tone,” he still goes as she wishes — and thus, he confesses: 

“‘It was I who killed the official’s old widow and her sister Lizaveta with an axe and robbed them.’ Ilya Petrovich opened his mouth. People came running from all sides. Raskolnikov repeated his statement…”

This demonstrates how Sonya’s good-hearted nature ultimately impacts Raskolnikov. Combined with Petrovich’s psychological tricks, it leads him to confess to the crime and face the punishment. Here, Dostoevsky not only depicts Sonya as a tool to be “used,” but also explores the moral irony of her profession — a prostitute who is “pure of heart,” guiding Raskolnikov toward redemption through punishment, which will “allow” them to be together.

Final Thoughts

Overall, I enjoyed the social commentary in Crime and Punishment, exploring the class struggles and their ties to criminality, the portrayal of misogyny within the narrative, and the psychological and moral tension built between the criminal and the police. However, I found the novel overly long. 

I loved the ideas this book drew on, but the execution wasn’t quite what I expected. It’s atmospheric and had interesting commentary, but I wish it was shorter, as it simply felt too long for what it was. Hence, I’m giving Crime and Punishment an average three-star rating.