To be honest, I got the book in December 2024 but only finished it last month. I really struggle with staying consistent when it comes to reading—anyway, this was my first Dostoevsky novel, and I wasn’t very familiar with Russian literature before. The only Russian author I’d read was Tolstoy.  

I really liked the characters, though sometimes I had to double-check who was who. Raskolnikov (Rodia) fascinated me the most. He was clearly spiraling into insanity due to his living conditions, but his pride wouldn’t let him admit that his crimes stemmed from that. In his mind, he wasn’t like the other desperate people who killed or stole just to survive. No, he saw himself as someone just testing his theory. He killed the old woman because she was nothing more than a pest to society, not a real person.  At one point, I even started considering his twisted logic. Would it *really* matter if the old woman died? She exploited others, so why was killing her a crime? Well, because she was human, of course. But I kept thinking about it and eventually concluded that murder is criminalized mostly to preserve sanity and social order. If it were legal, killings would skyrocket—especially since the taboo itself holds people back from acting on primal rage. 

Rodia saw himself as above those people but failed to realize they were all equally fucked. His logic falls apart because, what if *I* were the "bug" in someone else’s eyes? Who decides who’s disposable? Morality is subjective—even the kindest, purest person could be seen as annoying or stupid by someone and therefore should die.

Dostoevsky’s depiction of illness was incredible. Brother in Christ, I’ve never seen anyone capture it so perfectly. I could *feel* Rodia’s feverish delirium, imagine myself lying on that grimy couch in his tiny apartment, the door wide open as people poured in to gossip about the murder.  

If Raskolnikov was my favorite character, Svidrigailov was the one I despised the most. The predatory behavior of the men around Dunya infuriated me—thank God she had Razumikhin. I was almost relieved when Svidrigailov died. When he picked up that gun, I was terrified he’d go after Dunya, but instead, he went to that hotel (?) and had the most disturbing dream I’ve ever read. Svidrigailov spent his life exploiting and abusing women, pretending he felt no guilt—but alone in that room, the weight of his victims crushed him. That dream forced him to confront the truth: he *was* a monster. So he killed himself. He couldn’t live with what he’d finally acknowledged. It’s ironic—when Svidrigailov finally faced his own crimes, he couldn’t go on living. I think Dunya’s rejection was the breaking point, though I don’t believe he ever loved her. She was just an obsession, the one he could never have.  

Sonia was just a teenager and her family’s situation was heartbreaking. Her step mother, once wealthy, married a poor man and descended into madness as their money vanished—especially once Marmeladov became a drunkard. Sonia was the real adult in that house. Despite knowing prostitution would ruin her reputation, she did it to support her family. Rodia was one of the few who treated her with dignity, even sitting her beside his mother and sister—something Luzhin found outrageous. (And screw Luzhin, that greedy capitalist.)  

As for Razumikhin, I get why people ship him with Raskolnikov. He stood by Rodia from the start, caring for him when he was at his worst. He’s the definition of a true friend, and it clearly hurt him when Rodia couldn’t confess his crimes to him. That secrecy broke his heart. (Also, Rodia, stop fainting every time he’s near you!)  

I don’t have much else to add. It was a long read, but I loved the ending. 10/10.  

"No wonder all madmen think they’re Napoleon!" — Chávez del 8