Part 1 · Chapter 3

He woke up late the next day, after a restless night. But sleep hadn’t refreshed him; he woke up feeling gross, irritable, and just plain angry, glaring at his room. It was a tiny, cramped space, maybe six steps long.

It looked totally run-down, with dusty yellow wallpaper peeling off the walls, and the ceiling was so low that anyone taller than average felt like they’s constantly gonna bump their head.

The furniture matched the room: three old chairs, kinda rickety; a painted table in the corner piled with a few manuscripts and books - covered in so much dust they clearly hadn't been touched in ages.

A huge, clunky sofa took up almost the whole wall and half the floor; it used to be covered in chintz, but now it was falling apart and served as Raskolnikov’s bed.

He’d often crash on it, without even bothering to undress, without sheets, wrapped in his old student’s overcoat, with his head on one little pillow, piling all his linen - clean and dirty - underneath it as a bolster. A small table stood in front of the sofa.

It would have been hard to find a messier place, but to Raskolnikov, in his current mood, it was actually kind of comforting.

He’d completely shut himself off from everyone, like a turtle in its shell, and even the sight of the cleaning lady who had to wait on him and sometimes peeked into his room made him twitch with irritation. He was like some obsessed person, totally focused on one thing.

His landlady had stopped sending him meals for two weeks, and he hadn't even bothered to complain, even though he skipped dinner. Nastasya, the cook and only servant, was a little amused by his mood and had completely stopped cleaning and tidying his room, only occasionally wandering in with a broom.

She woke him up that day.

"Get up, why are you still asleep?" she called.

"It’s past nine, I brought you some tea; want a cup? You must be starving!"

Raskolnikov opened his eyes, startled, and recognized Nastasya.

"From the landlady, huh?" he asked slowly, sitting up on the sofa with a sick look on his face.

"From the landlady, of course!"

She set before him her own cracked teapot full of weak and stale tea and put two yellow lumps of sugar beside it.

"Here, Nastasya, take it," he said, fumbling in his pocket (he’d slept in his clothes) and pulling out a handful of coins - "run and get me a loaf. And get me a little sausage, the cheapest, from the butcher’s."

"I’ll fetch you a loaf right away, but wouldn’t you rather have some cabbage soup instead of sausage? It’s really good soup, from yesterday. I saved it for you yesterday, but you came in late. It’s awesome soup."

When the soup was brought, and he started eating, Nastasya sat down beside him on the sofa and started chatting. She was a country girl and a real talker.

"Praskovya Pavlovna wants to complain to the police about you," she said.

He scowled.

"To the police? What does she want?"

"You don’t pay her money, and you won’t move out of the room. That’s what she wants, for sure."

"Seriously, that’s the last straw," he muttered, grinding his teeth, "no, that won’t work... just now. She’s a fool," he added aloud.

"I’ll go talk to her today."

"She’s a fool, no doubt about it, just like me. But why, if you’re so smart, do you lie here like a sack and have nothing to show for it? You used to go out, you say, to teach kids. But why aren’t you doing it now?"

"I’m doing..." Raskolnikov began sullenly and reluctantly.

"What are you doing?"

"I am busy Working"

"What kind of work?"

"I’m thinking," he answered seriously after a pause.

Nastasya burst out laughing. She always laughed like that - a total, all-over-the-place thing when something cracked her up, shaking and giggling until it kinda made her feel weird.

"So, have you been raking in the cash with all that thinking?" she finally managed to ask.

"You can’t exactly go teach without decent shoes. I’m so over it."

"Don’t beef with your bread and butter."

"They pay practically nothing for lessons. What’s the point of a few pennies?" he answered, sounding bummed out, like he was just talking to himself.

"And you’re trying to get rich quick?"

He looked at her, totally confused.

"Yeah, I want a fortune," he said, sounding serious after a beat.

"Chill out, seriously! You’re freaking me out! Should I grab you a loaf or not?"

"Whatever." he said, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, shoot, I forgot! A letter came for you yesterday while you were out."

"A letter? For me? From who?"

"No idea. I gave the mailman three copecks out of my own money to deliver it. You gonna pay me back?"

"Just get it to me, for crying out loud! Bring it!" Raskolnikov exclaimed, getting super worked up - "Seriously!"

A minute later, she handed him the letter. That was it - from his mom, from the province of R - - . He went pale when he grabbed it. It had been a while since he’s gotten mail, but another feeling suddenly hit him hard.

"Nastasya, please leave me alone, seriously; here’s your three copecks, just go!"

The letter was trembling in his hand; he didn't want to open it with her around; he needed to be alone with it.

When she left, he quickly brought it to his lips and kissed it, then stared intently at the address, the tiny, slanted handwriting, so familiar and dear, of the mom who’s taught him to read and write. He hesitated; he seemed almost scared of something.

Finally, he ripped it open; it was a thick, heavy letter, weighing over two ounces - two full sheets of paper covered in really small writing.

"My sweet Rodya," Mom wrote - "it’s been two months since we last talked on the phone, and that’s been stressing me out, keeping me up at night. But I know you won’t blame me for not reaching out. You know how much I love you; you’re everything to Dounia and me, our only hope, our rock."

It broke my heart when I heard you’d dropped out of school a while back because you couldn’t afford it, and that you lost your tutoring gigs too! How could I help you with my tiny pension of a hundred and twenty rubles a year?

The fifteen rubles I sent you four months ago, I borrowed, like you know, from Vassily Ivanovitch Vahrushin, a local merchant. He’s a good guy and a friend of Dad’s too.

But since I had to let him collect the pension to pay off the debt, I couldn’t send you anything until now, when it's finally cleared. But now, thank goodness, I think I’ll be able to send you something, and we can actually celebrate some good news, which I’m excited to share.

First off, would you believe your sister has been living with me for the past six weeks, and we’re not going to be separated ever again.

Thank goodness, her struggles are finally over, but I’m going to tell you everything in order, so you’re up to speed on what’s been happening and what we’re been keeping from you.

When you wrote to me two months ago that you’d heard Dounia was having a rough time at the Svidrigaïlovs’ house, and you asked me to fill you in - what could I even write back?

If I’d told you the whole truth, I bet you would have dropped everything and come running home, even if you had to walk the whole way, because I know your heart and you wouldn't let your sister be disrespected. I was freaking out myself, but what could I do?

And, honestly, I didn't know the full story either. What made it so complicated was that Dounia got a hundred rubles upfront when she started as a governess for their family, but they deducted part of her salary every month, so it was impossible to quit without paying back the debt.

She took that money mostly to send you sixty rubles, which you desperately needed last year, and which you got from us.

We lied and told you it was her savings, but that wasn’t true, and now I’m telling you everything because, thank God, things have suddenly turned around for the better, and so you can see how much Dounia loves you and what a sweetheart she is.

At first, Mr. Svidrigaïlov treated her pretty badly, making rude and sarcastic comments at the table... But I don't want to get into all those awful details, just to worry you unnecessarily when it's all over now.

Basically, despite how kind and generous Marfa Petrovna, Mr. Svidrigaïlov’s wife, and everyone else in the house was, Dounia had a really tough time, especially when Mr. Svidrigaïlov, falling back into his old army habits, was drunk.

So, how did everyone explain it later? Seriously, would you believe that this dude had a total crush on Dounia from the start, but was hiding it behind a bunch of rude and dismissive behavior?

Maybe he was embarrassed and horrified by his own feelings, considering his age and the fact that he was a dad. That probably made him mad at Dounia. And maybe he was trying to trick everyone into thinking he didn't like her to hide the truth.

But eventually, he lost it and had the nerve to make a super obvious and embarrassing proposal to Dounia, promising her all kinds of stuff and offering to quit everything and take her to another property he owned, or even move abroad. You can only imagine what she went through!

Leaving her situation right then was impossible, not just because of the debt, but also because she didn’d want to hurt Marfa Petrovna’s feelings - Marfa would have gotten suspicious. And it would have caused a huge family blow-up.

Plus, it would have been a total scandal for Dounia; that was unavoidable. There were a bunch of other reasons why Dounia couldn't get out of that awful house for another six weeks. You know Dounia, right? You know how smart she is and how strong-willed.

She can handle a lot, and even in tough situations, she has the strength to stay firm. She didn’t even tell me everything, worried it would upset me, even though we were in constant contact. It all ended really unexpectedly.

Marfa Petrovna accidentally overheard her husband begging Dounia in the garden and totally misinterpreted the situation, blaming her for everything.

There was a huge scene right there in the garden; Marfa Petrovna even hit Dounia, refused to listen to anything, and yelled at her for an hour before ordering that Dounia be packed off to me immediately in a basic peasant cart.

They just threw all her stuff in - her linens, her clothes - all mixed up, not even folding or packing it. And then a heavy rain started, so Dounia, humiliated and embarrassed, had to ride with a peasant in an open cart for seventeen miles into town. Just think about it!

What kind of answer could I have sent to the letter I got from you two months ago? What could I have written? I was devastated; I didn’t dare tell you the truth because you would have been so upset, mortified, and angry. But what could you have done?

You probably would have ruined yourself, and besides, Dounia didn't want you to. So, I filled my letter with unimportant details when my heart was so full of sorrow, I couldn’t say anything else.

For a whole month, the town was buzzing with gossip about the scandal, and it got so bad that Dounia and I were even afraid to go to church because of the nasty looks, whispers, and even comments people made out loud about us. All our friends avoided us; nobody even nodded to us on the street.

I heard that some shop assistants were planning to humiliate us by smearing the gates of our house with tar, so the landlord started telling us we had to move.

It all started with Marfa Petrovna, who totally trashed Dounia's reputation and spread rumors everywhere. She knows everyone around, and that month she was constantly coming into town.

Being super talkative and loving to gossip about her family - especially complaining about her husband (which isn't cool) - she quickly spread the story all over, not just in town, but throughout the whole area. It made me sick, but Dounia handled it way better than I did.

Seriously, if you could have seen how she put up with it and tried to comfort and cheer me up! She's an absolute angel! But thankfully, our suffering didn't last long: Mr. Svidrigaïlov came to his senses and apologized, probably feeling bad for Dounia.

He presented Marfa Petrovna with undeniable proof of Dounia’s innocence - a letter Dounia had been forced to write and give to him before Marfa Petrovna found them in the garden. This

letter, which Mr. Svidrigaïlov had kept after she left, was written to refuse personal meetings and explanations he was begging for. In it, she totally called him out for how low he was acting toward Marfa Petrovna, reminding him that he was a dad and the head of a family.

She told him how messed up it was to harass and make a defenseless girl so unhappy - and she was already upset enough! Honestly, Rodya, the letter was so noble and heartfelt that I cried when I read it, and I still get teary-eyed whenever I see it.

Plus, the servants’ testimony also cleared Dounia’s name; they knew way more than Mr. Svidrigaïlov realized - which is always the case with staff. Marfa Petrovna was completely stunned and "totally crushed," as she told us, but she finally believed Dounia was innocent.

The very next day, Sunday, she headed straight to the Cathedral, knelt down, and prayed with tears to Our Lady for strength and to do the right thing.

Then she came straight from the Cathedral to us, told us everything, cried a lot, and, truly repentant, she hugged Dounia and begged for her forgiveness.

That same morning, without wasting any time, she went around to every house in town and everywhere, shedding tears, she praised Dounia’s innocence and the nobility of her feelings and behavior.

What’s more, she showed and read the letter from Dounia to Mr. Svidrigaïlov to everyone and even let them make copies - which, I gotta say, was a bit much. This way, she was busy for several days driving around town, because some people were upset about who got to hear it first.

So, they had to take turns, making sure she was expected at every house before she arrived, and everyone knew when and where Marfa Petrovna would be reading the letter, even though many had already heard it multiple times in their own homes and others’ too.

Honestly, I think a lot of this was totally unnecessary. But that’s just Marfa Petrovna being Marfa Petrovna. Anyway, she totally managed to restore Dounia’s reputation, and the whole embarrassing situation ended up being a huge mark on her husband, making him look like the only one to blame.

I seriously started feeling bad for him; it was pretty harsh treatment for someone who was already struggling. Dounia immediately got asked to tutor in several families, but she turned them all down.

Suddenly, everyone started treating her with a ton of respect, and it really helped move things forward - you could say it completely changed our lives.

You need to know, Rodya, that Dounia has a boyfriend, and she’s already said yes to marrying him. I’m rushing to tell you everything, and even though it was arranged without asking you, I don’t think you’ll be mad at me or your sister.

You’ll see we couldn’t just wait around and put off the decision until we heard from you. You couldn’t have known all the details without being here.

So, here's how it went down. He’s already a counselor - Pyotr Petrovitch Luzhin - and he’s distantly related to Marfa Petrovna, who’s been really pushing for them to get together. It started with him letting her know he wanted to get to know us.

He was properly welcomed, had coffee with us, and the very next day he sent a letter with a really polite marriage proposal and asked for a quick answer. He’s super busy and needs to get to St. Petersburg ASAP, so time is precious.

At first, of course, we were totally shocked - it all happened so fast. We talked and thought about it all day. He's got money, he’s reliable, he has two government jobs, and he's already made a good living for himself.

He’s forty-five, but he’s still pretty good-looking and could definitely attract women. Plus, he's just a really respectable and presentable guy - though he does seem a little grumpy and maybe a little full of himself. But that might just be a first impression.

And listen, Rodya, when he comes to St. Petersburg, which he will soon, don’t jump to conclusions and judge him too harshly, like you usually do. I’m giving you a heads-up, even though I’m sure he’ll make a good impression on you.

Besides, to really understand someone, you have to be thoughtful and careful to avoid forming biases and wrong ideas - those are really hard to shake later. And judging by everything, Pyotr Petrovitch seems like a genuinely good guy.

During his first visit, he told us he was a practical guy, but he still shares the "convictions of our rising generation" and he’s against all kinds of prejudice. He talked a lot - he seems a little full of himself and likes to be listened to, but that’s not really a bad thing.

I didn’t understand much of it, but Dounia explained that, even though he's not super educated, he's smart and seems good-natured.

You know your sister, Rodya. She’s a really solid, sensible, patient, and generous girl - but she's got a passionate heart, and I know that for sure. There’s no big romance on his side, or hers, but Dounia’s smart and has a heart of gold.

She’s gonna make her husband happy, and he’s gonna make her happiness his priority. We have no reason to doubt that, even though things moved super fast. Plus, he’s a really thoughtful guy, and he’ll totally realize that his own happiness depends on how happy Dounia is.

And about any flaws in his character, or habits, or even disagreements - which happen in every marriage, right? - Dounia said she’s got it covered. She said there's nothing to worry about and she's willing to deal with a lot, as long as their relationship is honest and respectful.

At first, I thought he was kind of blunt, but maybe he’s just an upfront kind of person. That's probably it. For example, when he came over the second time, after Dounia said yes, he dropped a bomb.

He said that before he met Dounia, he’s already decided to marry a girl with a good reputation, no money, and especially someone who’s known hardship, because, as he explained, a man shouldn’t owe anything to his wife. It's better for the wife to see her husband as the one who helps her out.

I gotta say, he put it way nicer than I just did - I forgot his exact words, but that's the gist of it. And honestly, it wasn’t said intentionally; he just blurted it out in the middle of talking.

He tried to backtrack and smooth things over afterward, but it still felt a little rude to me, so I told Dounia. But she got annoyed and said, "Words aren’t actions," and she’s totally right. Dounia didn’t sleep a wink the night before she made up her mind.

She got out of bed thinking I was asleep and paced around the room all night. Finally, she knelt down in front of the religious icon and prayed for a long time. In the morning, she told me she's made her decision.

"I already told you that Pyotr Petrovitch is heading to St. Petersburg, where he's got a ton of business to handle and wants to open a law firm. He’s been dealing with lawsuits - both civil and business - for years, and just won a big case the other day."

He needs to be in St. Petersburg because he has an important case before the Senate. So, Rodya, he could be a huge help to you, seriously, in every way. Dounia and I have agreed that starting today, you could definitely kick off your career, and you could see your future as pretty much set.

Oh, if it works out! It would be such a win, like a total blessing. Dounia’s not thinking about anything else. We even dropped a few hints to Pyotr Petrovitch.

He was careful with his answer, saying that, of course, he needs a secretary, so it’s better to pay a family member than a stranger, as long as they’re up for the job (like there’s any doubt you are!). But then he worried that your university studies would leave you no time to work at his office.

The subject died down for now, but Dounia's obsessed. She's been a mess for days, and already has a whole plan for you to eventually become a partner in Pyotr Petrovitch’s business. That's totally possible, since you're studying law.

I’m completely on board with her, Rodya, and share all her plans and hopes, and I think there’s a really good chance it will happen.

And even though Pyotr Petrovitch is being vague - totally understandable, since he doesn’t know you yet - Dounia is convinced she'll get everything she wants through her influence over her future husband.

Of course, we’re being careful not to talk about those bigger plans to Pyotr Petrovitch, especially about you becoming a partner. He’s a practical guy and might think it’s just a pipe dream.

Nor have Dounia or I mentioned the huge hopes we have of him helping us pay for your university studies; we haven't brought it up yet, because it’s gonna happen naturally, later on, and he’s gonna offer to do it without any drama, (especially since he can't say no to Dounia!) even more so because you could become his right-hand man at the office and get the assistance not as a handout, but as a salary you earn.

That's how Dounia wants to play it, and I totally agree. And we haven't talked about our plans for another reason: I really wanted you to feel like equals when you first meet him.

When Dounia gushed about you, he said you can’t really judge a person until you see them up close, and that he's looking forward to forming his own opinion when he gets to know you.

Do you know, my dear Rodya, I think maybe for some reason (nothing to do with Pyotr Petrovitch, just some personal, maybe old-lady fancies of mine) I’d be better off living on my own, apart from them, after the wedding.

I’m pretty sure he’s generous and thoughtful enough to ask me and encourage me to stay with my daughter, and if he hasn’t mentioned it yet, it’s just because he assumed it; but I’m going to say no.

I’ve noticed a lot in my life that husbands and their mothers-in-law don’t always get along, and I don’t want to be a burden to anyone. Plus, I’d rather be independent, as long as I have enough to eat and kids like you and Dounia.

If I could, I’d settle somewhere close by, because the best news, dear Rodya, I’m saving for the end of this letter: know this, my dear boy, that we might all be together very soon and hug each other again after almost three years apart!

It’s definitely happening that Dounia and I are heading to Petersburg, I don't know exactly when, but really, really soon - maybe in a week. It all depends on Pyotr Petrovitch, who’s going to let us know when he’s had a chance to check things out in Petersburg.

He’s pushing to have the wedding as soon as possible, even before the holiday, if he can swing it, or right after if that’s too rushed. Oh, I’m going to hug you so tight! Dounia’s super excited about seeing you - she joked the other day she’d marry Pyotr Petrovitch just to see you. She’s an angel!

She's not writing anything to you right now, and told me to tell you she has so much to tell you that she’s not even going to try to write it down, because a few lines wouldn’t say much, and it would just end up upsetting her. She told me to send you her love and tons of kisses.

But even though we’ll be seeing each other soon, I might send you some cash in a day or two.

Now that everyone knows Dounia’s marrying Pyotr Petrovitch, my credit’s suddenly looking good, and I know Afanasy Ivanovitch will trust me now, even for seventy-five rubles, based on my pension, so maybe I can send you twenty-five or even thirty rubles. I’d send more, but

I’m worried about our travel expenses; even though Pyotr Petrovitch has been so nice to cover part of the costs, like paying to get our bags and big trunk shipped (through some friends of his), we’re going to need some money when we get to Petersburg, at least for the first few days.

But Dounia and I have figured it all out, down to the last kopeck, and we see that the trip won’t cost much. It’s only ninety miles to the train station, and we’re all set with a driver we know, so we’re ready to go. From there, Dounia and I can travel comfortably in third class.

So, I’m likely to be able to send you not twenty-five, but thirty rubles. Okay, enough; I’ve already used two pages, and there’s no room for anything more. So much has happened - our whole story!

Oh, my sweet Rodya, I’m sending you the biggest hug and a mom’s blessing until we see each other again. Love, Dounia, your sister, Rodya. Love her like she loves you - and trust me, she loves you like crazy, more than anything, even herself.

She’s seriously an angel, and you, Rodya, you’re everything to us - our one shot, our one comfort. If you’re happy, we’re happy, period. Are you still saying your prayers, Rodya, and believing in God’s kindness and forgiveness?

I’m kinda worried you might have gotten caught up in all that doubt going around these days. If you have, I’m praying for you. Remember, honey, when you were little and Dad was still with us, you used to whisper your prayers at my feet, and we were all so happy back then.

Bye, until we meet - I’m sending you the warmest hug!

Tons of kisses. Forever yours.

"Pulcheria Raskolnikov."

He was practically sobbing while he read the letter, and when he finished, his face was super pale and twisted. A nasty, angry grin spread across his lips. He flopped onto his worn-out, gross pillow and just thought and thought for a long time.

His heart was pounding, and his brain was totally messed up. Finally, he felt trapped and suffocated in his tiny, dingy room - it felt like a closet or a box. His eyes and his mind were screaming for some space. He grabbed his hat and headed out, forgetting all about being scared to run into anyone.

He turned towards the Vassilyevsky Ostrov, walking fast down Vassilyevsky Prospect, like he was rushing to an appointment, but he walked like he always did, not paying attention to where he was going, muttering and even talking out loud to himself, which totally freaked out people passing by.

A lot of them thought he was wasted.