Dostoyevsky’s The Idiot is a favourite of mine so I was expecting Crime And Punishment be right up my street…aaaaand I hated it.
Many consider Crime And Punishment to be one of the most influential books of all time…and I have to wonder…how? The Idiot, although certainly flawed, tells a far more cohesive and compelling narrative. The central figure of Crime And Punishment is an angsty and hypocritical wanker. I do not have to like a character to ‘root’ for them but Dostoyevsky, man, you gotta give me something…anything! Instead we have this appealing main character who for reasons unknown to me manages to captivate everybody’s attention.
Crime And Punishment is divided in six parts. In the first one—which I actually kind of liked—we are introduced to Rodion Raskolnikov an impoverished young man who dropped out of university and is now forced to go to a pawnbroker for funds. He believes that his financial circumstances are the only thing standing in the way of a ‘good’ life so he decides to kill the pawnbroker, telling himself that she is a callous old woman who sort of deserves to meet a violent end. In this first part Raskolnikov has various monologues, in which he argues with himself. A letter from his mother, informing him that his sister is engaged to an older man of affluence, he kind of looses it. He also meets another ‘tormented’ soul, Marmeladov, an alcoholic ne’er-do-well, who basically tells Raskolnikov his life story (his incoherent ramblings go on for pages and pages and pages). Raskolnikov uses an axe to kill the pawnbroker but things, predictably, don’t go quite as he had planned.
The follow five parts haven’t all that much to do with this murder or with the detective who is pursuing Raskolnikov. After committing this crime Raskolnikov falls ill, he faints more often than Harry Potter and Frodo combined. Lots of people try to help him but he remains an asshole. Razumíkhin, who was also forced to drop out of university due to his finances, is utterly loyal to him. And…why? Even prior his ‘madness’ it seems that Raskolnikov was a noxious mix of moody and unpleasant. Then these two are joined by Raskolnikov’s sister and mother, and by the two ‘bad’ men who are interested in his sister. And of course, we also get some more of Marmeladov and his family, in particular his daughter, a beautiful prostitute whose childlike appearance (insert puking sounds here) and inherent purity make Raskolnikov besotted with her.
Everyone goes on a tirade, no one makes any bloody sense. Ramblings here, ramblings there, ramblings every fucking where. The dialogues are repetitive, the plot makes no sense (convenient coincidences aside it seems odd that Raskolnikov would not think back to his article on ‘extraordinary’ and ‘ordinary’ criminals just once in part one or two given what he wanted to and what he ended up doing), and I have 0 tolerance for grown ass men finding women attractive because they have ‘childlike’ physiques, temperaments, or features. And of course, here we have women who tremble like leaves.
There were so many over the top moments and whereas I found this fantastical realism amusing in The Idiot here they just annoyed me. Raskolnikov is dumb, he isn’t a brilliant criminal, or a genius, or master manipulator, or even charming…he just is. He makes so many avoidable mistakes, which made me wonder why it took the detective so long to finally confront him. Speaking of the deceive, his scenes with Raskolnikov had this very ‘anime’ feel to them (which works in parodies such as Love is War) and I could not for the life of me take them seriously.
What kind of point was this book trying to make? I have no clue. I did not enjoy the discussions on ‘extraordinary’ and ‘ordinary’ men, which seem to suggest that the reason why the detective is so in awe of Raskolnikov is that he considers him to be an ‘extraordinary’ individual, one who should not be punished as hard as ‘ordinary’ individual should. Yikes.
To quote Nabokov: Dostoyevsky’s “sensitive murderers and soulful prostitutes are not to be endured for one moment—by this reader anyway”.
“I actually had the idea, when you asked me for a subject for a painting, of giving you a subject: to paint the face of a condemned man a minute before the guillotine falls, while he is still standing on the scaffold and before he lies down on the plank.”
Fyodor Dostoevsky is often remembered in terms of his illness, his gambling, his radicalism – which would lead to his Siberian exile – as well as of his near-death experience, which intensified his already devout religious belief. All these themes can be found in his labyrinthine epic The Idiot which focuses on Prince Myshkin, a Christ-like holy fool who suffers from epilepsy, and on the secondary characters surrounding him.
This often mystifying novel delves into complex political and philosophical issues, without offering any direct approach or reaching a simple solution. Arguments, misunderstandings, and disputes abound within these pages.
Dostoyevski’s characters offer contradictory yet wholly believable portrayals of different types of people. His ideas of guilt and punishment are very interesting, and I enjoyed the fact that most of his characters are the embodiment of a ‘grey morality’. And of course, Myshkin. The Prince is naive to a fault yet he can be particularly perceptive about others (eg. usually by reading their faces), he seems to understand the nature and character of others, even if he often finds himself at a loss for words. I read a review stating that he was useless and selfish. I couldn’t disagree more. His incredible empathy is the driving force his character. His ability to identify himself in others, and his immediate forgiveness of others make him anything but pathetic. Yes, he was too kind, and his kindness doesn’t not do him favour, but, others are also to blame for the events that lead to his ‘unbecoming’: they use him or don’t understand him, and when they call him an ‘idiot’, he believes them.
A flawed masterpiece that often looses itself along the way (eg. a character reading his ‘will’ takes up 40 pages). In spite of the byzantine plot, Dostoyevsky has an eye for people, and Freud was quite right in calling Dostoyevsky a psychologist.
A surprisingly entertaining novel that brims with a polite sort of humor that is nevertheless appealing to the modern reader. Various characters give their account in regards of a missing diamond worn by Rachel Verinder on her eighteenth birthday. This yellow diamond, also known as ‘moonstone’, we are told has been stolen from India by Rachel’s uncle who upon his death left it to his niece. On the morning after her birthday Rachel discovers the diamond missing and her household is soon thrown off balance: police question the servant and houseguest with little avail. Sergeant Cuff is brought to investigate but the diamond remains missing. An acquaintance of Rachel wanting to ‘solve’ the case asks a few of the people involved to recall the events surrounding the disappearance of the diamond, the first account, for example is given by Gabriel Betteredge, faithful servant of Lady Verinder. I loved his bit. He often recalls things that are not strictly pertinent to the diamond but he is also very aware of this and apologizes in advance. His account creates two vivid pictures: a before and after the diamond. In the light of the following events, the Betteredge’s initial account becomes incredibly nostalgic. He gives a great sense of place, of the household and the servants within the house. Betterdge is an amiable character and whose depth is given by his habits and mannerism. The following threads were not as enjoyable, they were shorter and less encompassing: Drusilla Clack, an ardent Evangelical, gives us nothing of too much importance, Dr. Candy and Jennings were forgettable despite the vital information given by their accounts.
This House is Haunted is written in a way that recalls the period in which the story takes places using some of that time’s turn of phrases and other expressions. Both the dialogue and the narration seem over-the-top, punctuated by exaggerations as to keep in faith with the period of the story making the whole novel surprisingly amusing. Boyne focuses on the action rather than observing the main character’s surroundings: but he does so in a way that is far more telling than showing. Most of the things that take place in the novel is crammed in a few small sentences, rushing us through all of the parts that could have added some layer and complexity to the overall story. He doesn’t spend enough time describing the house and he also skims over the ‘mysterious’ happenings that make Eliza realize that there is something afoot. The characters too felt rather thinly depicted; they make such little impact on the story that it renders them completely forgettable. Boyne resorts to cheap horror tropes but I wouldn’t call this novel scary at all. More than anything it can be seen as a pastiche, something rather superficial that is however entertaining enough in its exaggerations.