The Greatest Russian Stories of Crime and Suspense

The Greatest Russian Stories of Crime and Suspense Read Online Free PDF

Book: The Greatest Russian Stories of Crime and Suspense Read Online Free PDF
Author: Otto Penzler
Tags: Mystery, Anthologies & Short Stories
AND PUNISHMENT
    TRANSLATED BY CONSTANCE GARNETT
    One of the greatest crime novels of all time, Crime and Punishment was written by Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky (1821–1881) and published in twelve monthly installments (January-December, 1866) in the magazine Russky Vestnik (The Russian Messenger) before its first book publication in a single volume in 1867. It was first published in English translation in London by Vizetelly (1886) and in New York by Crowell (1886).
    As a towering literary achievement, its plot is well known. A poor student, Rodion Raskolnikov, breaks into the apartment of an obnoxious old money-lender planning to rob and kill her. When her half-sister chances upon the scene, he murders her, too. He believes he has the right to commit the crimes, as it solves his financial difficulty while ridding the world of a loathsome creature and, besides, as a superior being, he need feel no guilt as he pursues more noble purposes. The German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche developed his idea of the superman after reading Crime and Punishment . Although he has no solid evidence, the police detective Porfiry Petrovich becomes convinced that Raskolnikov committed the murder and, relying on the killer’s conscience, finally persuades him to confess.
    This excerpt of the murder scene from Crime and Punishment is from the Constance Garnett translation, first published in 1914.

    T he door was as before opened a tiny crack, and again two sharp and suspicious eyes stared at him out of the darkness. Then Raskolnikov lost his head and nearly made a great mistake.
    Fearing the old woman would be frightened by their being alone, and not hoping that the sight of him would disarm her suspicions, he took hold of the door and drew it towards him to prevent the old woman from attempting to shut it again. Seeing this she did not pull the door back, but she did not let go the handle so that he almost dragged her out with it on to the stairs. Seeing that she was standing in the doorway not allowing him to pass, he advanced straight upon her. She stepped back in alarm, tried to say something, but seemed unable to speak and stared with open eyes at him.
    “Good evening, Alyona Ivanovna,” he began, trying to speak easily, but his voice would not obey him, it broke and shook. “I have come … I have brought something … but we’d better come in … to the light.…”
    And leaving her, he passed straight into the room uninvited. The old woman ran after him; her tongue was unloosed.
    “Good heavens! What is it? Who is it? What do you want?”
    “Why, Alyona Ivanovna, you know me … Raskolnikov … here, I brought you the pledge I promised the other day.…” And he held out the pledge.
    The old woman glanced for a moment at the pledge, but at once stared in the eyes of her uninvited visitor. She looked intently, maliciously, and mistrustfully. A minute passed; he even fancied something like a sneer in her eyes, as though she had already guessed everything. He felt that he was losing his head, that he was almost frightened, so frightened that if she were to look like that and not say a word for another half-minute, he thought he would have run away from her.
    “Why do you look at me as though you did not know me?” he said suddenly, also with malice. “Take it if you like, if not I’ll go elsewhere. I am in a hurry.”
    He had not even thought of saying this, but it was suddenly said of itself. The old woman recovered herself, and her visitor’s resolute tone evidently restored her confidence.
    “But why, my good sir, all of a minute … What is it?” she asked, looking at the pledge.
    “The silver cigarette-case; I spoke of it last time, you know.”
    She held out her hand.
    “But how pale you are, to be sure … and your hands are trembling too? Have you been bathing, or what?”
    “Fever,” he answered abruptly. “You can’t help getting pale … if you’ve nothing to eat,” he added, with difficulty articulating
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