Raskolnikov Essay, Research Paper Raskolnikov went straight home. He was so confused and bewildered that when he reached home and flung himself down on the sofa, he sat there for a quarter of an hour simply recovering and trying to get this thoughts into some kind of order. (page 300) His mind began to wander and replay the events of Nikolay s confession in his head, and thought how things could have turned out differently.
Raskolnikov Essay, Research Paper
Raskolnikov went straight home. He was so confused and bewildered that when he reached home and flung himself down on the sofa, he sat there for a quarter of an hour simply recovering and trying to get this thoughts into some kind of order. (page 300) His mind began to wander and replay the events of Nikolay s confession in his head, and thought how things could have turned out differently.
Trying to follow the whirlwind of ideas in his mind, Raskolnikov remembered the loud banging on the door done by Nikolay the painter and remembered his intense fear. What if it had not been Nikolay, but rather somebody behind that door that had been listening to my insane talk, and had come to take me away on suspicion of murder, he wondered. I would have been forced to confess everything! But no, this had not been the case, and Raskolnikov feeling relieved, fell quickly into a deep sleep.
The door banged again and Raskolnikov remembered his fear once more. Opening the door to Porfiry s office, Nikolay barged into the room with an intense look on his face. It was not I who murdered the old woman, he passionately screamed. It was him HIM I tell you! I could recognize that voice from the next country over. He yelled as he pointed his thin finger in Raskolnikov s direction.
Porfiry shook his head and gave Nikolay a pitiful look. That wretched soul still will not confess to his sins. . . . he mumbled to himself.
He is right, I was I, Raskolnikov cut Porfiry off, unable to contain the guilt and burdens any longer. It was I who. . . . .
Here, drink some water, calm yourself, take some deep breaths, replied Porfiry, curious to hear what Raskolnikov had to say.
It was I who. . . . . . murdered . . . . the old woman and Lizaveta with an axe in their flat. He spit out. Raskolnikov took a deep breath and swallowed loudly.
Every single person in the room gathered around Porfiry s office and stared at Raskolnikov. Despite the fact that he had practiced his confession many times, Raskolnikov still had not expected a reaction like this, and certainly wasn t prepared to explain himself to a group of people. Instead, he remained silent.
Porfiry, with a gaping wide mouth, surprised at the confession of Raskolnikov so soon, sputtered I do not believe this nonsense Raskolnikov, explain yourself! It was his goal to make sure everybody knew the truth at any costs.
Raskolnikov began by explaining his philosophy on crime. He tried to justify the crime by telling how he was in fact committing a murder that would benefit the community because Alena Invanovna was such a terrible person and that the world would be better off without her. He then went on to say that he had not killed a human being but a principle, and that he had needed to cross the boundaries at whatever price. Still, the crowd did not believe him entirely, as they were still party suspicious of Nikolay, the original suspect. Raskolnikov explained the murder in great detail, down to the blood on his clothes and the places where he had hidden the treasure. To prove his guilt, a messenger was sent to look under the specified rock for the money and the jewels. In fact, all was accounted for. As soon as Raskolnikov s guilt was proven, he was taken down to the police station for questioning by Ilya Petrovich.
On the way down to the station, Raskolnikov felt surprisingly good, as now he was free of his guilt and responsibility. However, before he arrived at the police, he saw a timid face poking out from the crowd, that of Sonya. His heart churned at the thought of her knowledge of his crime, and he was embarrassed at his actions. The last thing he remembered was the feeling of spit dropping on his face, that from disgruntled citizens who had much hate for him. He awoke to Natasysha s young face wiping his face with a washcloth.
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