5.4 “I have an evil heart, don’t forget that; it explains a lot”

This chapter depicts the second conversation between Sonya and Rodion.

Hello, Dostoevsky enthusiast!

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Notably, it's the fourth chapter in this part, mirroring chapter 4.4 from earlier. The significance of the number 4 was previously explored.

Dostoevsky masterfully arranges parallel chapters across different parts of the novel. These chapters reflect each other like mirrors, creating multiple layers of meaning—akin to an endless corridor of reflections.

Both private meetings with Sonya are intensely emotional. The characters teeter on the brink of their feelings, thoughts, and emotions—pushed to their limits. In this encounter, Sonya is already fraught following Luzhin's false accusation. She likely contemplated what might have transpired had no one defended her. Accustomed to others only making demands of her, not protecting her, Sonya realizes how close she came to imprisonment. Had Lebeziatnikov been as unscrupulous as Luzhin, she might have found herself behind bars, her explanations falling on deaf ears.

Sonya Marmeladova's Faith

During their second encounter, Raskolnikov poses a question to Sonya—one he believes has only one answer that would align her with his perspective. He asks: had she known Luzhin's intentions beforehand, that his scheme would result in the deaths of Katerina Ivanovna, her children, and Sonya herself, what would she have done? Would she have chosen for the scoundrel Luzhin to live and "commit villainy," or for herself to be imprisoned and Polechka and her siblings to starve?

"In other words, how would you decide: who should die?"

Sonya, however, responds as only a person of true faith can:

"But I cannot know the Divine Providence <...> And who has made me a judge to decide who is to live and who is not to live?"

How can one reconcile Sonya's profound faith with the misfortunes that have befallen her and her loved ones? How can the existence of an all-benevolent God be reconciled with the presence of evil and the suffering of innocents?

Such questions defy explanation if we consider the world only within earthly bounds, assuming life ends with physical death. Yet, Sonya holds a truly Orthodox worldview. Let's not judge its logic or correctness, nor claim it's the only possible perspective—let's simply examine her position.

She perceives the divine world as a whole, where everything is subject to change. The human soul's life doesn't end with death but transitions to another realm. Only in rare moments of complete earthly joy can we glimpse the bliss awaiting us with God. Those who turn from God on earth, believing any evil justifiable for their own good, may voluntarily forfeit this bliss. This is why evil persists. God could, of course, arrange for every evil act to be instantly punished and every good deed rewarded, creating a space where children are shielded from evil. But then the world would resemble a cage of trained mice, precluding any possibility of true faith. The miracle of love for God would never arise. Yet this love isn't unrequited—to aid humanity, God chose the only righteous path: sacrifice.

By descending to earth, becoming human, enduring unimaginable torment and crucifixion, God revealed to all the sole path to salvation: through faith and love.

Love that has weathered trials emerges more precious and potent.

Before penning the novel, Dostoevsky noted:

"The idea of the novel.

I. The Orthodox view, what Orthodoxy is. There is no happiness in comfort; happiness is purchased by suffering. <...> Man is not born for happiness. Man earns happiness, always through suffering. <...> Life knowledge and consciousness <...> is acquired through the experience of pro and contra, which one must bear oneself."

The trials Sonya endured, the depths to which she descended, miraculously served only to purify her soul.

Becoming Children for a Moment

Raskolnikov's confession shakes Sonya to her core:

He looked at her and suddenly saw Lizaveta's face. He vividly recalled Lizaveta's expression as he approached her with the axe—she backed away to the wall, hand outstretched, with a childlike look of terror. Like small children when suddenly frightened, she stared motionlessly at the object of her fear, drawing back with an outstretched hand, ready to cry. Almost the same thing happened now with Sonya: just as helplessly, with the same fear, she looked at him for a while. Suddenly, she pressed her left hand faintly against his chest and slowly rose from the bed, moving further away, her gaze becoming more fixed. Her horror suddenly transferred to him: the same fear appeared on his face, mirroring her expression, almost with the same childlike smile.

This moment marks the first connection between Raskolnikov and Sonya through a shared feeling—when the murderer and the prostitute briefly become children. "And indeed, children are the image of Christ. 'Of such is the kingdom of God.' [...] They are the future of humanity."

Recall Raskolnikov's description at the novel's beginning, before the murder, from chapter 1.4:

He was very poor and somehow proudly aloof and unsociable, as if keeping something to himself. To some of his comrades, it seemed he looked upon them all as children, from above, as though he were ahead of them in development, knowledge, and convictions, regarding their beliefs and interests as inferior.

Now Raskolnikov no longer looks down on children. For a moment, he becomes one himself. In this brief instant, through Sonya's faith and love, he glimpses the possibility of forgiveness.

Unraveling the Motives for Murder

Sonya might have found it easier to comprehend if Raskolnikov had killed out of desperation—poverty, hunger, or to aid his family. Yet, she recoils at the notion that the money given to Katerina Ivanovna came from the victim's house, inadvertently dismantling Raskolnikov's reasoning. Despite this, he persists in explaining the ideological basis for his actions.

"Had I killed merely from hunger [...] I would now be... happy!" Raskolnikov declares. Tormented by the thought of burdening Sonya with his anguish, he confesses to having an "evil heart".

Finally, Raskolnikov admits, "I wanted to become Napoleon, that's why I killed." When Sonya asks for his story without examples, he speaks of his family's poverty and his bleak future as "some teacher or clerk," condemning not only his relatives but also any future family to destitution. Yet, "Raskolnikov's words sounded rehearsed."

The perceptive Sonya senses this isn't the whole truth. Raskolnikov grasps for justifications:

"I only killed a louse, Sonya, a useless, nasty, harmful louse."

In this rationalization, he overlooks Lizaveta. The mдurders differ—one premeditated, one impulsive. He theorized about one, but what of the other?

"Is a human being a louse?!" Sonya cries out, horrified, from her separate moral universe. Raskolnikov, delving deeper into self-discovery, often startles at his own revelations.

"Yes, I grew furious and refused to accept it. I retreated to my corner like a spider." This imagery echoes Svidrigailov's vision of eternity as a bathhouse full of spiders.

In Raskolnikov's insect world, spiders are the entitled, while "ordinary people" are mere lice, caught in the spider's web. While this metaphor fits the animal kingdom, humans aren't insects. Rodion peels back another layer of his psyche.

Now I understand, Sonya, that the strong-minded and spirited rule! The daring are deemed right. Those who scorn the most become lawmakers, and the most audacious are the most justified! It's always been so and always will be! Only the blind can't see it! [...] I realized then, Sonya, [...] that power belongs to those who dare to take it. There's just one thing: one must dare! [...] I... I wanted to dare, so I killed... I simply wanted to dare, Sonya, that's the entire reason!

Is this, then, the true motive for Raskolnikov's crime? His final explanation? Clearly, the desire for power over "ordinary" people and the concepts of good and evil drove his thoughts and actions.

Yet Raskolnikov still seeks "justifications." He claims the devil compelled him. Those who yield to such temptation while retaining a living soul, like Raskolnikov, face endless torment. Those who fully extinguish their souls—as do many tyrants, dictators, oligarchs, even Napoleon—are doomed to infamy or swift oblivion. Countless examples show their fate: a life of constant fear, surrounded by power-hungry rivals. In contrast, history's truly great minds—writers, scientists, genuine benefactors of humanity—never needed to sacrifice others for their achievements.

I Am a Victim

Raskolnikov clings to victimhood. His anger now shifts to the devil, whom he sees as an undeniable accomplice in his crime. It's telling that during the murder scene, the devil is mentioned five times across three pages, and thrice more on a single page after Rodion "buries the evidence." The devil's presence lingers throughout various episodes. Yet, as with the "theory of environment," Dostoevsky's truth prevails:

"By making man responsible, Christianity thereby recognizes his freedom"

While Raskolnikov might appear a "victim of the environment"—of ideas permeating society—not everyone succumbed to them. No evil can possess a person without their inner consent. Unsurprisingly, given his current mindset, Raskolnikov rejects the sole path to redemption Sonya offers:

"Stand at the crossroads, bow down, first kiss the earth which you have defiled, and then bow down to all the world and say to all men aloud, 'I am a murderer!' Then God will send you life again."

The Crossroads Motif

In pre-Christian lore, crossroads were believed to be sites of diabolic activity—places where one might strike bargains with the devil, weave spells, or work enchantments. Yet Slavic mythology paints a more nuanced picture, viewing crossroads as sacred spaces where healing occurs and humanity communes with the earth.

The concept of man "defiling" the earth is deeply rooted in Old Testament scripture. The Book of Numbers (35:33) proclaims: "Do not pollute the land where you are. Bloodshed pollutes the land".

Slavic tradition held that one of Russia's most solemn and terrifying oaths involved kissing and tasting the earth—a ritual that speaks to the perceived connection between Mother Earth and the divine. This reverence for the earth isn't merely a vestige of pagan belief, but rather a folk tradition that resonates with Dostoevsky's pochvennichestvo (soil-bound philosophy). Earth represents the wellspring of life and nourishment, an elemental part of human existence. The act of kissing the earth symbolizes love for it, drawing one closer to their roots and true nature. Moreover, the crossroads itself—shaped like a cross—embodies Christianity's central symbol. This motif weaves throughout the novel, gaining significance as the narrative unfolds.

The Cross Exchange

Raskolnikov, feeling "how much of her love was upon him," experiences not joy, but heaviness and pain. This reaction is apt. Boundless love directed at someone who cannot reciprocate it—as Raskolnikov cannot, still viewing himself as "human" and others as "lice"—becomes unbearable torment. This mirrors the anguish of embittered sinners in hell, as the Gospel states: "Therefore if thine enemy hunger, feed him; if he thirst, give him drink: for in so doing thou shalt heap coals of fire on his head" (Romans 12:20, see also: Proverbs 25:22).

Sonya, noticing that Raskolnikov "has no cross!"—like the horse killer in his dream—wants to place one on him. She offers her own cypress cross, keeping Lizaveta's copper one for herself.

The folk ritual of exchanging body crosses holds profound significance. It evolved from the pagan "blood" ritual, where people became "blood brothers" by cutting their palms and shaking hands to exchange blood.

Shortly before the murder, Lizaveta and Sonya exchanged their body crosses. Lizaveta gave her copper cross, while Sonya offered an obrazok («образок»)— icon pendant.

Sonya initially referred to the exchange as "crosses," later clarifying about the obrazok (icon pendant). An obrazok («образок») — icon pendant isn't always cross-shaped; it can be a simple pendant-icon, one with an engraved cross, or a prayer. Thus, they either exchanged a cross for a cross plus icon pendant, or Sonya's icon pendant was cross-shaped. The exact details remain unclear.

the icon pendant or obrazok (образок)

Curiously, when murdering the old woman, Raskolnikov discovers a string bearing cypress and copper crosses, along with an icon pendant. Could these be Sonya's crosses? Did the old woman take them from Lizaveta?

This cross exchange symbolically unites Sonya and Lizaveta as "cross sisters." In effect, Raskolnikov killed Sonya's sister. Simultaneously, Sonya becomes "a continuation of Lizaveta's earthly existence." A body cross, given at baptism, is worn for life. While it can be replaced, the baptismal cross symbolically endures forever, serving as the most crucial emblem for a believer.

Yet Raskolnikov cannot accept Sonya's cross now. One should take up the cross only when prepared to embrace resurrection or suffering. But if Sonya gives him her cross, it won't be the same as the cross exchange with Liza, because for this ritual, both participants must give their own body crosses and be truly believers.

What do you think of this chapter? Do you think Raskolnikov will take any more unexpected actions?

The article on the next chapter will be coming very soon—the day after tomorrow, with which we'll finish Part 5. Will it end with someone's death, as Dostoevsky likes to do?