Mila's logs

If there was one author my friends have all heard me bring up to them throughout our friendships, it must be Fyodor Dostoevsky.

A part of me knows that I am heavily biased when I praise his work since Crime and Punishment was the first book I’d managed to finish in time for my high school library’s return date.

I recall starting this book and being immediately hit with unfamiliarity because of its blunt introduction when I had expected mystery solving to unfold through the book’s continuous pages. But it had quickly become clear to me that this book was not a variant of the classic whodunit, but a human drama focused on depictions of morality, human turmoil, and salvation.

I was in no way a professional critic back then, and still, I find myself shying away from literature classes at university for the sole reason that I have an issue with procrastination when it comes to assigned readings. So please take my words with a grain of salt. I just wanted to leave something for myself when I look back at the archives so I can be reminded of all the things I love about this book.

The raw illustration of Raskolnikov’s emotional and moral turmoil was the most exhilarating journey to follow because many of us have no clue what it would actually feel like to be what he is, to do what he does. And yet, Dostoevsky’s literary talent manages to drop me into the mind of the utilitarian, fearful, human soul of Raskolnikov’s.

The chapters before his confession must be my favorite. The constant ups and downs of his mental state, the cycle of despair and justification, and the depiction of the selfish, utterly human characteristics of Raskolnikov are brutal and lack any sort of romantic idealism that usually puts me off written pieces.

However, I cannot speak of Crime and Punishment without mentioning Sonya. Now, it would not be entirely truthful to say that I am a fan of how women are depicted in many classic literature pieces. There was a part of me that was reminded of Yoshiko from another work, No Longer Human, when I initially read the dynamics between Sonya and Raskolnikov.

However, Sonya and Raskolnikov are written in a way where Sonya is not only a supporting character, but I may even go as far as to say that she is a main character as well in her own right. She is a redeemer, his antipode in the lens of morality. Her forgiveness and goodness, to my nihilistic teenage mind, were harder to digest than the contemptible behavior of Raskolnikov. Then again, this discomfort Sonya brought to me as I read on was a welcome one. It felt as if I was also subject to the redemption Sonya willingly gave, the solemn acceptance of both the abhorrent and healing nature that humans could possess. That it isn’t only the sins that rule human nature, as easy as it is to assume so. I finally understood how crucial Sonya’s role is in the story of Crime and Punishment.

I’ll go ahead and grab this book off my bookshelf again with a cup of cinnamon coffee, goodnight.