Jekyll and Hyde: The Unreliable Narrator in Notes from the Underground and Crime & Punishment

If history was to consider the greatest psychologist in world literature, Fyodor Dostoevsky would surely be one of the names to claim such standing. Writing in one language, yet speaking to all countries, Dostoevsky redefined what it meant to be a novelist. Using the pen as a surgical knife, Dostoevsky dissected the human psyche in methods unprecedented in the medium prior. One of the most striking methods is his use of the unreliable narrator. In both Notes from the Underground and Crime & Punishment, the unreliable narrator is predominately revealed through the narrator’s polemics with supporting characters, and also in their own indecision. For the reader, as we read these torn characters battle against their own conscious, we are forced to question our own rooted morality and experience values beyond our moral boundaries. Through the utilization of this complex device, Dostoevsky is also highlighting the devastating social state of his protagonists, a state wrought upon them by a society that marginalizes the indecisive. The implementation of the unreliable narrator is one of the rare devices that affects the reader as much as it effects the character. It strikes the perfect balance. The execution of an unreliable narrator is a tricky thing, indeed. If everything espoused is clouded in so much uncertainty that the reader is unable to differentiate opinion from fact, the point of utilizing an unreliable narrator is missed. One of the great strengths of utilizing this perspective is to tell a narrative subjectively, yet objective enough for the reader to extrapolate their own meaning and understanding of the narrative separated from the subjective narrator. In Notes from the Underground, Dostoevsky presents a nameless protagonist, the Underground Man, who has receded from the world due to his social ineptness. Yet for all his mutterings of self-destruction and contempt for society, he remains transparent enough for the reader to separate his subjective thoughts from the objective truths. The best way Dostoevsky achieves this is by taking the reader through a scene objectively, allowing the reader to garner one interpretation, and then presenting a subjective response soon after by the unreliable narrator. A prime example of this is when the Underground Man meets Liza, a simple prostitute, and invites her to his house one afternoon. Upon immediately attending, she is offered tea by the Underground Man. She initially refuses, yet moments later our narrator has brought out a kettle and cup and is pouring tea for her. What was objectively presented to us as a simple answer isn’t registered by our unreliable narrator, who has a habit of interpreting things oppositely. And when

2 he realizes that she’s not touching her tea, he screams ‘drink your tea!’1 This is soon followed by the line, ‘a terrible anger against her suddenly welled up in my heart; I think I could’ve killed her’.2 From such a minute exchange, a scathing and ruthless reaction has been triggered. Through this dichotomy of the objective and subjective a greater understanding of our troubled protagonist comes to light. What the reader would interpret as a normal response from Liza, the Underground Man twists into a response that attacks his magnanimity, and in turn, character. His unreliability is assured. In Crime & Punishment, Dostoevsky also incorporates the subjective versus the objective in developing the unreliable narrator. Early in the novel, our protagonist, Raskolnikov, is found to be in dire straits. Financially drained and mentally tormented, he begins doubting his self- worth. He suddenly receives a letter from his mother living miles away from St. Petersburg. Within it, she details the trials and tribulations of herself and his sister, Dunya. They too are undergoing ‘monthly deductions from salary’ and enduring ‘all these painful details’.3 In an effort to reconcile their dismal state, a marriage is arranged between Dunya and the profitable lawyer, Pyotr Luzhin. Raskolnikov’s mother expresses great excitement and optimism in this prospect, calling Luzhin a ‘trusty and well-do man’ and predicts Dunya will regard it as ‘her duty to constitute the happiness of her husband, who in his turn will care about hers’.4 She then tells Raskolnikov how it might affect him directly. With Luzhin opening an attorney’s office in St. Petersburg, Raskolnikov’s current city of residence, the prospect for her ailing son to attain a career under the tutelage of Luzhin is an option she hopes her son will pursue. She even goes on to state, ‘our fervent hope [is] that he will help us to supply you with money while you’re still in university’.5 Now because the letter is presented verbatim to the reader, we are objectively able to make our own assessment of his mother. She appears to be a selfless, honest and good-natured woman, simply looking out for the best intentions of her son. Yet that assessment is quickly disputed by a subjective response from Raskolnikov that takes the polar opposite interpretation. He instantly replies, ‘No, mother, no, Dunya, you won’t fool me!’6 In his eyes, the marriage exemplifies his lack of self-worth. So incapable he is to his family that they have to rely on an

1 Fyodor Dostoevsky, Notes from the Underground, (New York: Critical, 2001), p. 84. 2 Ibid., p.84. 3 Fyodor Dostoevsky, Crime and Punishment, (New York: Penguin, 1991), p. 63. 4 Ibid, p. 68-69. 5 Ibid., p. 71. 6 Ibid., p. 74.

3 external masculine figure to ensure their well-being. He asks himself, ‘what can you promise them instead…What are you doing now? Robbing them’.7 He feels parasitic towards them, and this new maneuvering of marriage completely undermines his worth and only furthers his anxiety. For the reader, it gives an accurate assessment of our protagonist’s tumultuous state of mind and unreliability in observation. He is manipulating his mother’s intentions as a result of his unstable conscience. Once again, in another text by Dostoevsky, we are seeing the same concept brought forth: presentation of an objective scenario, followed by a subjective reading. The result is identical in both works: a narrator who can’t be trusted. While the two protagonists’ experience with the outside world exemplifies the unreliability in accurately interpreting situations, we also find unreliability in their own internal logic. With the Underground Man, time and time again, we read as he alternates his opinion on almost every subject. Even the very first line of the novel has connotations of indecisiveness. He writes, ‘I am a sick man…I am a spiteful man’.8 What begins as a sentence of sympathy is soon followed by an ellipsis which changes the tone to a statement of resentment. It’s almost as if the Underground Man is reflecting his own internal duality via the juxtaposition of these two sentences. The confliction of opinion that is apparent in this opening line is a quality that runs through the entire narrative. And as we navigate through his shaky consciousness, we are forced to question everything he says, for in one paragraph he might reinforce a point only to dismantle it pages later. He is a man unable to make up his mind, and therefore we can make little of him. With Crime & Punishment, the same unreliability that pervades the Underground Man is found to plague Raskolnikov as well. While walking through the streets of St. Petersburg, Raskolnikov encounters a drunken young lady being pursued by an older man wishing to take advantage of her. Our protagonist initially feels great remorse for her and chastises the man for trying to exploit the girl in such an unruly fashion. He even goes to the length of calling upon a passing officer and asks, ‘are we just going to let him get his hands on her? Aren’t we going to try to fetch her home? Think about it!’9 His empathy is palpable, yet just as we begin to attribute good morals to Raskolnikov, his attitude suddenly shifts. He begins to feel regret for intruding in someone else’s affair. Not only does he wish to have nothing to do with her, he claims, ‘Oh, they

7 Dostoevsky, Crime and Punishment, p. 78. 8 Dostoevsky, Notes from the Underground, p. 3. 9 Dostoevsky, Crime and Punishment, p. 82.

4 can swallow each other for all I care’.10 Just like the Underground Man, Raskolnikov’s perception is transformed as quickly as it is developed. While the incident with the girl is ultimately inconsequential to the core narrative, it serves to reflect the tumultuous psychological state of Raskolnikov. What we find is an uneasy internal struggle that is constantly at odds with each other; the morally upright man battling against the apathetic nihilist. It is a struggle that plagues him throughout the novel, and most strikingly just prior to the murder of Alyona, the pawnshop dealer. Because these two protagonists are unable to remain steadfast in their convictions, we are therefore unable to rely on them as consistent storytellers, consistent reflections of their world. Everything has to be read under a microscope, for what is said might not necessarily be what is true. As we have seen, Dostoevsky’s implementation of the unreliable narrator is reinforced in a variety of manners, yet to what effect? What is Dostoevsky channeling with the inclusion of the unreliable narrator? On a purely individual level, he is asking all his readers to question the very conundrums that stupefy his protagonists. Obvious feelings towards experiences, like pain, are called into question. The Underground Man claims he used to ‘gnaw and gnaw at [himself] inwardly, secretly, nagging away, consuming [himself] until finally the bitterness turned into some kind of shameful, accursed sweetness and at last into genuine, earnest pleasure!’11 Such perverse logic as experiencing pain so much that it turns into a pleasure is an experiment wholly removed from common reason. But that’s precisely what Dostoevsky is striving for. Through the guise of the unreliable narrator, he is forcing us to question rooted morals and sample a radically nihilist approach. The perspective might be unsettling to the unaccustomed reader, but taking us to the farthest ends of the human spectrum allows us to understand these sensorial feelings in a holistic light. No longer are our rooted beliefs towards pain followed blindly, but now absorbed with an understanding that shows them stretched to their furthest ends. And considering that these values are so intrinsically bound to our perception and might turn on us as they have on these characters, it is essential that they be viewed in all their forms, regardless of how immorally twisted they might appear. Crime & Punishment utterly hinges on challenging engrained morals. Raskolnikov’s urge to kill is a conundrum that infects our mind as much as it infects his. Just when our protagonist

10 Dostoevsky, Crime and Punishment, p. 84. 11 Dostoevsky, Notes from the Underground, p. 6.

5 has deemed the act a crude and immoral thought, he comes to a bar where he overhears a conversation between a student and officer. The officer says:

A hundred, a thousand good deeds and undertakings that could be arranged and expedited with that old woman’s money, which is doomed to go to a monastery! Hundreds…of lives that could be set on the right road; dozens of families saved from poverty, breakup, ruin, depravity, the venereal hospitals… wouldn’t one petty crime like that be atoned for by all those thousands of good deeds? Instead of one life – thousands of lives rescued from corruption and decay.12

While the limitations of law and morals would never permit such an act, the argument, as put forth by Dostoevsky, is philosophically compelling. Speaking rationally, indulging in one sinful act to cleanse an ocean of ruin is advantageous to the greater world. While one life would be lost, a thousand others would be gained. And when looked at from the lens of the irrelevant Raskolnikov, who we’ve learned is of little value to even his family, it becomes clear that there is much here that appeals to him. This deed would lift him out of the squalors of insignificance into a saintly martyr for all that’s good. He wouldn’t be doing a disservice to mankind, but rather saving them. And as we have seen, for a character as psychologically unbalanced and miserable as Raskolnikov, such a prospect seems almost compulsory. He has no other choice. It is this, or as he previously contemplated, suicide. Death will occur in some form, the only question is which. The reader, having experienced a viewpoint where Alyona’s death might be deemed a benefit to society, is forced to reassess their own values on whether or not her death is justified. Because Dostoevsky includes an unreliable narrator, he is allowed free reign to delve into these abnormal and irrational sentiments on killing in order to test the common consensus. Taboo topics, such as murder, in Crime & Punishment and pain in Notes from the Underground, are put under the microscope, and while the reader might not come away wholly believing the arguments put forward by Dostoevsky, they are still forced to question and reassess their own beliefs. It is a process which might dismantle or reaffirm them, but contribution from the reader is required regardless of the opinion formed. While the personal effects of utilizing an unreliable narrator are paramount to involving the individual reader, there is also a grander, more external motivation for employing said

12 Dostoevsky, Crime and Punishment, p. 101.

6 device: marginalization from society. The Underground Man has literally receded from life due to his encounters with society. During the second act of the novella, we arrive to his time before isolation. As a twenty-four old year office worker, he reveals his nonexistence to the world around him in heartbreaking transparency. Late one night, after observing a drunk being tossed out a window by an officer, the Underground Man suddenly has the urge to experience the very same act. He doesn’t know how or under what circumstances, all he cares about is being acknowledged in some form. The officer disregards him completely. The next sections detail his fixation with the officer to recognize him. The Underground Man plans to stalk the officer, learn his daily patterns, and impede on his walking at just the right time. This way, the officer is sure to acknowledge his existence. When the day arrives, the Underground Man imposes himself right in front of the officer and bumps into him. The dialogue that follows is this:

I didn’t yield an inch and walked by him on a completely equal footing! He didn’t even turn around to look at me and pretended that he hadn’t even noticed; but he was merely pretending, I’m convinced of that. To this very day I’m convinced of that!... Of course, I won’t describe what happened to me three days later; if you’ve read the first part…you can guess for yourself.13

Separating his subjective response from the objective incident, it becomes quickly apparent that all the Underground Man yearns for is touch, to be recognized by a fellow being. And if the response garnered by the officer is any indication, he has failed in that. The officer didn’t even stop to acknowledge the Underground Man. While our narrator might use coy terms like ‘pretended that he hadn’t even noticed,’ we must remember our unreliable narrator is not to be trusted. His constant insistence that he triumphed denotes a sense of insecurity. And as he tells us, three days later his depressive anxiety returned. The fact that the world around him refused to accept him into their society is one of the deep reasons for his retreat to the underground. He hasn’t arrived to this miserable and unreliable state by his own volition, but rather by a society that has marginalized him into insignificance. The marginalization from society is also very present in Crime & Punishment, perhaps in ways more evident than Notes from the Underground. Raskolnikov is literally afraid of the systems in place. So far along from paying his monthly rent, he is forced to leave his tiny

13 Dostoevsky, Notes from the Underground, p. 39.

7 apartment surreptitiously without alerting his landlady. We read that ‘each time, as he passed [the landlady’s room], the young man had a morbid sensation of fear, of which he was ashamed and which caused him to frown’.14 While this consciously is a ploy to evade having to pay his dues, it is also unconsciously an action which is forcing him to retreat into isolation, both physically and mentally. And it is in this isolation where he begins to question his self-worth, doubt his own reliability. He has likewise been thrown out of university as a result of not paying his tuition. He is unable to maintain a reliable life, and therefore begins to recognize his own unreliability, to reach a point where he questions everything about himself, including his own opinion and decisions. So when he contemplates reconciling his life and finding a reliable job through a meeting with his only friend, Razumikhin, it is this newfound unreliability that ultimately stops him. Raskolnikov mutters, ‘what will I be able to do with a few [coins]? Is that what I require? It’s really rather silly of me to have come to see Razumikhin’.15 A vicious cycle has emerged. Every time he tries to pursue an improved life, the weights of doubt and unreliability cast around his legs only bring him further down into despair. But who is it that cast those weights around him in the first place? A society that has buried him in so much debt, it is impossible for Raskolnikov to even envision recovery. So rather than wade through an endless sea of misery in trying to reach an unascertainable renewal in life, why not, like the Underground Man, find pleasure in the very pain that torments him? Literary critic, Harold Bloom, once wrote of Hamlet, ‘[he] is unfathered because he is of no genre, and as a drama rebels against Shakespeare himself’.16 The Underground Man and Raskolnikov, like Hamlet, are rare creations in literature that rebel against their creator. Everything written objectively by Dostoevsky is ruthlessly examined and reexamined by subjective characters that refuse to accept everything on face value. Though they might be rebellious in nature, in effect, they provide the reader with such vividness that it rises from the page and asks the reader to question as they question, to reflect as they reflect. To probe the consensus and pick apart the inherit values. And their unreliability serves as a refraction to the broken world they are forced to endure. As much as they speak about themselves, they are also unconsciously speaking about a society that has marginalized them into this desperate state. Whether Dostoevsky intended from the very beginning to create two characters with conflicting

14 Dostoevsky, Crime and Punishment, p. 33. 15 Ibid., p. 87. 16 Harold Bloom, Hamlet (Bloom’s Shakespeare Through the Ages), (New York : Infobase Publishing, 2008), p. xii.

8 minds, or that they trickled out of his pen without his knowing is up for supposition. One thing, though, is for certain: Notes from the Underground and Crime & Punishment are the extraordinary result of a battle between creator and creation.

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Bibliography:

Bloom, Harold, Hamlet (Bloom’s Shakespeare Through the Ages), (New York: Infobase Publishing, 2008) Dostoevsky, Fyodor, Crime and Punishment, (New York: Penguin, 1991) Dostoevsky, Fyodor, Notes from the Underground, (New York: Norton, 2001)