7 Answers2025-07-13
My edition of the novel was 671 pages long, and I read it in 14 days, averaging 48 pages per day. I didn’t force myself to read a certain amount each day, but instead tried to read at about the same time every day. By doing so, I was able to sustain the mood of the novel, and maintain the necessary tension. Reading a long classic such as this can be daunting, but by setting a daily goal of, say, 30-50 pages, it becomes a pleasant daily ritual, rather than a chore. I read for about 30 minutes before bed each night, completing a chapter or two before drifting off to sleep. During the night, I would have strange and philosophical dreams. The novel would seep into my subconscious if I gave it consistent attention, and I found that the daily commitment to reading was enjoyable, rather than arduous.
3 Answers2025-07-13
Let’s just give some credit to poor Sonya. Rather than telling us about Raskolnikov’s experiences, Sonya gives up her entire life and goes to Siberia. Her quiet strength in the epilogue is far more powerful than Raskolnikov’s collapse. She is the anchor of the entire ending to the novel.
8 Answers2025-08-15
This is a miniature compared to his larger works of fiction (i.e. ‘The Brothers Karamazov’ runs to 800 pages or so). But for me White Nights is even more wonderful than that. Because White Nights is Dostoevsky concentrated to their utmost extent – all the major Dostoevsky themes are there in the SPACE given to them for the exploration of alienation and of obsessive idealistic love of an “impossible” sort and of THE most painful sort of awareness of Self that there is. It can be read in two hours. In fact, I read it on a train journey – and sat for the remainder of the journey with my head pressed against the cold window. The ending affected me so very, very much. This tiny work is also of enormous re-readability – for me every 2 years or so. And the major new thing I have noticed each time is the depth, and variousness, of the terribly desperate, romantically-love-struck monologuing of the narrator.
7 Answers2026-05-02
I can find humor in the novel too (it’s really dark and subtle though). First of all, there’s Marmeladov. His drunken and semi-self-pitying monologues are, of course, tragic, but also somehow funny. Then there are the petty and scatterbrained officials, Mme Liputin and the Landlady, and, most of all, the bombastic and comically-failed attempts by Luzhin to better himself socially or financially. It’s clear that the author is savaging the social climbers, the cynical and hypocritical members of the Russian bourgeoisie, and their functionaries. Raskolnikov’s delusions of grandeur also have elements of the pathetic and the absurd. This humor is not funny in the sense that the novel is not a comedy (it is not), but rather the recognition of the ridiculous in a tragic situation makes the novel more human and therefore less a stern lecture.
8 Answers2025-07-13
It’s interesting that no one has brought up the Constance Garnett translation of “Crime and Punishment” yet. While her translation is historical and oft-reprinted, reading it after P&V is like watching a movie with the contrast cranked down low. The rough edges of Garnett’s translation have all been smoothed over to make Dostoevsky’s work read like that of a slightly more agitated Jane Austen. But Dostoevsky isn’t Austen. He’s a tough, uncomfortable, and repetitive writer who dives deep into the psychological inner lives of his characters to expose their inner conflicts and psychological fears. The P&V translation has somehow managed to resurrect all of the edgey and uncomfortable aspects of Dostoevsky’s novel for English-speaking readers. While it’s true that some of the translations are a bit awkward, it’s sort of necessary in order to accurately portray the main character, Raskolnikov, as well as the dirty, sick, and oppressive city in which he lives. If you want to read a smooth and pleasant classic, then read something else. But “Crime and Punishment” is not for the faint of heart, and you’ll need a translation that isn’t afraid of the novel’s mess.
6 Answers2026-07-27
Looking at a few translations again, since that is important. Garnett’s translation of Raskolnikov’s plan for his theory of the matter refers to it as a project; P&V translates this as an idea. One of these makes Raskolnikov out to be a rather abstract-minded sociologist; the other is of a piece with the rest of the novel and paints him as a man quite obsessive with his fixed idea. Do some research on translations; read some reviews. Choosing a translation is choosing a lens through which to read a story; and that choice will affect almost every character and theme in the novel.
8 Answers2025-08-30
The Double is another short work by Dostoevsky worth reading. It’s not the shortest work by the author, but it’s definitely short enough to be read in a few hours of dedicated reading. It’s an early work by Dostoevsky, and it’s interesting to see how he was already developing the major themes of his work, including the effects of madness on a person’s identity. The translation of The Double into English is also very important. An older translation of The Double by Constance Garnett is somewhat clumsy. A much better version of The Double is the translation by the authors of Called Up to the Front, Pevear and Volokhonsky, who also translated Crime and Punishment and The Brothers Karamazov for good reason.
9 Answers2025-06-02
There are scam websites which are selling PDF versions of novels by famous authors and claiming that they are selling “exclusive rights” to read the work. I have seen this done for works by Mark Twain such as The Prince and the Pauper and A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court. They are simply ripping off the free PDF versions found on websites such as Project Gutenberg and then charging people to read work that can be had for free. Always check out the work in one of the official free repositories before buying. The copyright status of a work is its friend and prevents it from being artifically scarce.
6 Answers2025-08-31
I must acknowledge that the P&V marketing machine is very good at what it does. So, you’ll find them on the cover of most classic sections in bookstores, and they are often good. But that doesn’t necessarily mean that they are the best translation of a given work, and therefore, other very good translations are dismissed solely on the basis of-store front hype.
And it creates a fascinating (and totally unfair) situation in which to laud Garnett or another translator one instantly appears to be a snarky, overhyping hipster contrarian challenging the givens of mass marketing. P&V is, for many, often the only good option, for specific books, however, another translator might be offering a far more suitable translation than P&V’s. Ultimately, one serves Dostoevsky, not the translator or publishing brand.
10 Answers2025-08-03
I always feel a bit icky after reading the final part of this book. The section of the book with Liza is very intense and very cringe-worthy, but also very destructive. In that section of the book, Liza’s compassion is destroyed by Fyodor’s cruelty. Then Fyodor just withdraws from that scene and we are back to Fyodor in the ‘present’ writing these notes. After describing more of his outbursts, Fyodor finally says that even he is bored with them. Thus there is no more point in continuing this book. The final quote of the book is, “I am writing this only for myself, and so, whatever I may write, it will all be the same.” This quote is the ultimate expression of Fyodor’s nihilism and his spite. And the book ends, not with a period, but with an emotional ellipsis… He’s still there, writing, thinking, suffering, but also luxuriating in his own suffering. There’s no change, no growth, no hope. This is one of the most pessimistic closing notes to a book that I’ve ever read.