While presenting the details of his life to Raskolnikov in a seedy bar, Semyon Marmeladov alludes to the city of Sodom as depicted in the Bible:
It is now a year and a half since we finally ended up, after much wandering and numerous calamities, in this splendid capital adorned with numerous monuments. And here I found a position…Found it, and lost it again. Do you understand, sir? This time I lost it through my own fault, for this trait of mine appeared again…We now live in a corner at Amalia Fyodorovna Lippewechsel’s, and what we live on and pay with I do not know. There are many others living there besides ourselves…A Sodom, sir, a most outrageous one.
Marmeladov’s language is dripping with sarcasm as he describes the “splendid capital” city of St. Petersburg, where he lives in poverty with his wife and children. Though he once had a decent job working for the government, he admits to Raskolnikov that he lost it as a result of his own “fault,” by which he means his addiction to alcohol. Noting that he lives in the “corner” of a room in a boarding house with his family and “many others,” Marmeladov characterizes the city and his accommodations as “a Sodom.” Here, he alludes to the city of Sodom, which, in the Bible, is synonymous with vice and sin. This sense of St. Petersburg as a city marked by vice and corruption permeates the novel.
Raskolnikov alludes to the biblical site of Golgatha after reading a letter sent by his mother Pulcheria concerning the engagement of his sister Dunya to the lawyer Luzhin:
I also know what you were thinking about all night, pacing the room, and what you prayed about to the Kazan Mother of God that stands in mama’s bedroom. It’s hard to ascend Golgotha. Hm…So it’s settled definitively: you, Avdotya Romanovna, are so good as to be marrying a practical and rational man, who has his own capital (who already has his own capital; that’s more solid, more impressive), who serves in two posts and shares the convictions of our newest generations (as mama writes), and who ‘seems to be kind,’ as Dunechka herself remarks.
After reading the letter, Raskolnikov becomes convinced that Dunya has only agreed to marry Luzhin in order to assist her brother and mother, both of whom have limited financial means. In his reflections, he notes that “it’s hard to ascend Golgotha,” an allusion to a site outside of Jerusalem that is identified in the Bible as the site of the crucifixion of Jesus Christ and that is also often referred to as “Calvary.” Raskolnikov’s allusion, then, compares Dunya to Christ, emphasizing her willingness to sacrifice herself for the sake of others.
Dostoevsky alludes to German writer Friedrich Schiller in his depiction of Raskolnikov’s cynical response to a letter from his mother informing him of his sister’s betrothal to the wealthy Luzhin. After reading the letter, an irate Raskolnikov reflects upon the naive idealism of his sister and mother:
So they’re putting their hopes on the nobility of Mr. Luzhin’s feelings after all [...] Good luck to them! And that’s how it always is with these beautiful, Schilleresque souls: till the last moment they dress a man up in peacock’s feathers, till the last moment they hope for the good and not the bad; and though they may have premonitions of the other side of the coin, for the life of them they will not utter a real word beforehand; the thought alone makes them cringe; they wave the truth away with both hands, till the very moment when the man they’ve decked out so finely sticks their noses in it with his own two hands.
Raskolnikov’s thoughts are bitter and cynical as he reflects upon Luzhin’s offer to marry Dunya. He mocks the “beautiful, Schilleresque souls” of his mother and sister, one of many allusions to Schiller throughout Crime and Punishment. For Dostoevsky, Schiller’s works reflect an idealized view of the world as beautiful and ultimately good. This allusion, then, suggests that the pessimistic Raskolnikov believes that Dunya and Pulcheria are overly naive and sentimental.
Dostoeveky employs paradox in his depiction of Raskolnikov’s complex emotional reaction to a letter from his mother informing him of his sister’s betrothal. At first, Raskolnikov objects strongly to the planned marriage and plans to put an end to it. However, he then asks himself what right he has to demand that she call off the marriage when he himself is unable to provide financially for the family:
How are you going to protect them from the Svidrigailovs, from Afanasy Ivanovich Vakhrushin, you future millionaire, you Zeus disposing of their fates? In ten years? But in ten years your mother will go blind from those kerchiefs, and maybe from tears as well; she’ll waste away with fasting; and your sister? Go on, think what may happen to your sister after those ten years, or during those ten years. Have you guessed?” He kept tormenting and taunting himself with these questions, even taking a certain delight in it.
Raskolnikov asks himself a series of painful questions that emphasize his inability to protect or provide for his mother and sister, and he sarcastically alludes to the Greek god Zeus as he mocks his own desire to demand that the wedding be called off. After Raskolnikov imagines the various hardships that his mother and sister might have to endure, the narrator notes, paradoxically, that Raskolnikov is “taking a certain delight” in these “tormenting” and “taunting” thoughts. Due to his disturbed state of mind, then, Raskolnikov is able to enjoy his own torment and to find a perverse pleasure in his pain.
Raskolnikov alludes to the Jesuits, a Catholic religious order, in his condemnation of Dunya’s plan to marry the wealthy Luzhin. After reading a letter from his mother detailing the planned marriage, Raskolnikov concludes that Dunya has only consented to the plan in order to assist him:
Oh, in that case, given the chance, we’ll even crush our moral feeling; our freedom, peace of mind, even conscience—all, all of it goes to the flea market. Perish our life! So long as these beloved beings of ours are happy. Moreover, we’ll invent our own casuistry, we’ll take a lesson from the Jesuits, and we may even reassure ourselves for a while, convince ourselves that it’s necessary, truly necessary, for a good purpose. That’s exactly how we are, and it’s all clear as day.
Raskolnikov harshly critiques what he considers to be his sister’s faulty reasoning, which seems to prioritize “these beloved beings,” by which he means the physical body, over other, more abstract concepts such as “moral feeling,” and “conscience.” He characterizes her logic as “casuistry” and alludes to the Jesuits, noting sarcastically that they might “take a lesson” from the religious order.
In the early modern period, casuistry was a mode of reasoning that derived abstract moral principles from individual cases and then applied those principles to different cases. After the Protestant Reformation, many Protestant thinkers associated casuistry with clever but unsound logic. Through this allusion, then, Raskolnikov suggests that Dunya has made a fallacy in sacrificing her conscience for the sake of supporting her family financially.
Dostoevsky makes a satirical allusion to the work of Belgian mathematician Adolphe Quételet in his depiction of Raskolnikov’s response to seeing a young girl walking around in a drunken haze in the early afternoon:
In two or three years she’ll be a wreck, so altogether she’ll have lived to be nineteen, or only eighteen years old [...] Pah! And so what! They say that’s just how it ought to be. Every year, they say, a certain percentage has to go…somewhere…to the devil, it must be, so as to freshen up the rest and not interfere with them. A percentage! Nice little words they have, really: so reassuring, so scientific. A certain percentage, they say, meaning there’s nothing to worry about. Now, if it was some other word…well, then maybe it would be more worrisome…
Quételet’s book Man and the Development of His Abilities was a major work in social science, or “social physics” as it was then known. This book popularized the use of statistics and statistical norms to understand social phenomena. In it, Quételet suggests that some percentage of any population is destined to engage in crime and what he considers to be antisocial behavior (like, for instance, sex work). Here, Raskolnikov satirically mocks Quételet’s ideas, suggesting with dark humor that a “certain percentage” of people must go “to the devil.” He critiques Quételet for using numbers and "scientific
language to whitewash the suffering of the poor, as if poverty is a simple statistical certainty that cannot be ameliorated. Throughout the novel, Dostoevsky critiques various “rational” ideas associated with the Enlightenment and modernity.
When Raskolnikov goes to visit Razumikhin, his friend and fellow former-student is shocked by Raskolnikov’s ill appearance and offers him some translation work as means to support himself financially. Razumikhin’s humorous chatter both alludes to various then-trendy literary topics and satirizes the publishing and translation industries of 19th-century Russia:
Now, here we have two sheets and a bit more of German text—the stupidest sort of charlatanism, in my opinion; in short, it examines whether woman is or is not a human being. Well, and naturally it solemnly establishes that she is a human being. Cherubimov is preparing it in line with the woman question;[...] That done, we’ll start translating something about whales; then we’ve marked out some of the dullest gossip from the second part of the Confessions for translation—somebody told Cherubimov that Rousseau is supposedly some sort of Radishchev.
Razumikhin lists some of the translation projects that he is working on, offering to share the work with Raskolnikov. First, he is translating some texts from German concerning what he calls “the woman question,” an allusion to a then-prominent debate across Russia and Europe concerning the emancipation of women, who lacked major personal and financial rights. He also alludes to Genevan philosopher Jean-Jacques Rousseau, who had recently been translated into Russian in Dostoevsky’s day, and a Russian writer, Radischev, who pushed for social reform and was exiled as a result. Razumikhin offers a satirical picture of the literary marketplace of 1860s Russia, which, Dostoevsky suggest, was fixated with trendy but ultimately unimportant topics and debates, and which was still overly dependent upon foreign writing and ideas.
As Razumikhin escorts Dunya and Pulcheria to the apartment of Raskolnikov, he uses paradox and allusion while reflecting upon the dignified appearance of the two destitute women:
She was busily throwing on her cape and putting on her hat as she spoke; Dunechka also readied herself. Her gloves were not only worn out but even torn, as Razumikhin noticed, and yet the obvious poverty of their dress even lent both ladies an air of some special dignity, as always happens with those who know how to wear poor clothing. Razumikhin looked at Dunechka with awe and was proud to be escorting her. “That queen,” he thought to himself, “who mended her own stockings in prison—of course, she looked like a real queen at that moment, even more so than during the most splendid solemnities and appearances.”
Despite their shabby and torn clothing, Razumikhin observes that their “obvious poverty” lends the two women “an air of some special dignity.” Here, he alludes to Queen Marie Antoinette of France, who “mended her own stockings in prison” and therefore looked “like a real queen at that moment” despite being deposed and imprisoned. Paradoxically, he suggests, a person looks even more royal under such circumstances than they do “during the most splendid solemnities and appearances,” as their true nobility shines out all the more clearly. Razumikhin is awed by the dignified air of the two women and feels “proud” to escort them.
Before meeting with detective Porfiry Petrovich to discuss the items that Raskolnikov previously pawned to the old woman, he teases his friend Razumikhin about his growing attraction to Dunya using both simile and allusion:
“But why are you embarrassed? Romeo! Wait, I’m going to tell on you today—ha, ha, ha! Mama will have a laugh…and so will someone else…”
“Listen, listen, listen, but this is serious, it’s…ah, the devil, I don’t know what it is!” Razumikhin became utterly muddled and went cold with terror. “What are you going to tell them? I, brother…pah, what a swine you are!” “
“Just like a rose in springtime! And you have no idea how it becomes you; a six-and-a-half-foot Romeo! And so well scrubbed today; you even cleaned under your fingernails, eh? When did that ever happen before! [...] Bend down!”
With an unusually playful spirit, Raskolnikov teasingly refers to his friend as “Romeo” twice, alluding to the famous lover in William Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. Razumikhin blushes to hear Raskolnikov’s taunts, unable to confess his feelings about Dunya despite his usually open and honest nature. Raskolnikov, however, continues to tease Razumikhin, describing him as being “like a rose in springtime,” a simile that conjures typical iconography associated with love and romance. In this scene, Raskolnikov displays an unusually playful side to his personality. However, he is also being strategic here, as he wishes to first disarm Porfiry by presenting himself in a casual and relaxed manner.
Throughout the novel, Raskolnikov draws extensive allusions to French military general and emperor Napoleon Bonaparte. For Raskolnikov, Bonaparte exemplifies the bold, fearless characteristics of the “superior” type of person who, he feels, has a natural right to transgress laws and rule over the weak. After testing out his ideas by murdering the pawnbroker, however, he panics and makes many small errors that almost lead to his arrest and that force him to confront his own inadequacies:
“I should have known,” he thought, with a bitter smile, “and how, knowing myself, anticipating myself, did I dare take an axe and bloody my hands! [... At times he stopped still at some thought. “No, those people are made differently; the true master, to whom all is permitted, sacks Toulon, makes a slaughterhouse of Paris, forgets an army in Egypt, expends half a million men in a Moscow campaign, and gets off with a quip in Vilno; and when he dies they set up monuments to him—and thus everything is permitted. No, obviously such men are made not of flesh but of bronze!”
In this bitter and self-reproachful speech, Raskolnikov alludes to various key events in Napoleon’s career, from the battle of Toulon in the south of France to his disastrous invasion of Russia in 1812. Reflecting upon the momentous life of Napoleon, Raskolnikov concludes that men such as him are “not made of flesh but of bronze.” Here, Raskolnikov confronts his failure to live up to the model set by Napoleon.
In his private and frank conversation with Raskolnikov, Svidrigailov alludes to the martyrs of early Christianity when describing Dunya to her brother:
You know, from the very beginning I’ve always felt sorry that fate did not grant your sister to be born in the second or third century of our era, as the daughter of some princeling or some other sort of ruler, or a proconsul in Asia Minor. She would undoubtedly have been among those who suffered martyrdom, and would have smiled, of course, while her breast was burned with red-hot iron tongs. She would have chosen it on purpose, and in the fourth or fifth century she would have gone to the Egyptian desert and lived there for thirty years [...]
The unflinchingly virtuous Dunya, he argues, would have suited “the second or third century” better than the present day. She is, he suggests, inclined to martyrdom and therefore would have “smiled” while being tortured. Many of the saints venerated by various branches of Christianity lived in the late Roman period and were tortured or killed for their refusal to recant their faith in Christ. Svidrigailov’s allusion, then, is ambiguous. On the one hand, he acknowledges Dunya’s steadfast righteousness. On the other hand, he implies that she enjoys suffering and has little interest in ordinary pleasures.
In a scene in which he finally confesses to Dunya that he murdered the pawnbroker and Lizaveta, Raskolnikov uses metaphor, simile, and allusion:
“Brother, brother, what are you saying! You shed blood!” Dunya cried out in despair.
“Which everyone sheds,” he picked up, almost in a frenzy, “which is and always has been shed in torrents in this world, which men spill like champagne, and for which they’re crowned on the Capitoline and afterwards called benefactors of mankind. But just look closer and try to see! I wished people well and would have done hundreds, thousands of good deeds, instead of this one stupidity—or not even stupidity, but simply clumsiness
As a shocked Dunya cries out that her brother has “shed blood,” Raskolnikov responds petulantly that blood has “always been shed in torrents in this world,” a metaphor that imagines the long history of violence as leaving “torrents” or rivers of blood around the world. Further, he accuses all humankind of spilling blood “like champagne,” a simile that emphasizes the casual and common nature of violence throughout history. Attempting to defend himself despite his own great feelings of shame, he alludes to Roman history, noting that men have been “crowned on the Capitoline” for killing others, an allusion to Julius Caesar, who was crowned a military tribune in a temple on the Capitoline Hill, one of the Seven Hills of Rome. The metaphor, simile, and allusion he uses here suggest that Raskolnikov is not yet ready to truly repent for his crime.