Crime and Punishment — who's who

Twenty-three, a former law student six months out of school, starving in a tiny rented garret on S. Place. Has published an article arguing that extraordinary men are above the moral law. Kills the pawnbroker Alyona Ivanovna and her sister Lizaveta with an axe to test the theory. Spends the rest of the novel sick, raving, half-confessing to strangers, and slowly being broken open by the magistrate Porfiry and by Sonya Marmeladov. The novel is, almost continuously, the inside of his head.

Beautiful, proud, intelligent. Has worked as a governess in the Svidrigailov household, where Svidrigailov fell in love with her and his wife accused her of seduction. Engaged to Luzhin to save the family from ruin — a sacrifice Raskolnikov refuses to accept. Throws Luzhin out when he insults her brother. Refuses Svidrigailov in his own rooms by pointing a pistol at him. Marries Razumikhin in the epilogue.

A devoted, anxious mother whose love is itself a kind of pressure. Travels to Petersburg with Dunya to be near her son and to see Dunya married to Luzhin. Watches her son grow stranger and stranger and cannot understand what is happening. Dies of a fever and a slow loss of mind in the epilogue, never having been told the truth.

Perpetually broke, perpetually cheerful. Nurses Raskolnikov through brain fever in Part 2, manages his affairs, defends him against suspicion, falls in love with Dunya almost on first sight. The novel's portrait of ordinary decency under pressure. Marries Dunya in the epilogue and takes care of Pulcheria Alexandrovna in her decline.

Marmeladov's nineteen-year-old daughter from his first marriage. Has gone on the streets to feed Katerina Ivanovna's three small children after her father has drunk the family into ruin. Meek, devout, almost without irony. Reads Raskolnikov the story of the raising of Lazarus from her own copy of the New Testament — given her by Lizaveta, the murdered sister. Hears Raskolnikov's confession without flinching and tells him to go to the crossroads and bow down. Follows him to Siberia.

A former civil servant, dismissed for drinking, now a permanent fixture in the taverns of the Hay Market. Tells Raskolnikov his entire story over a beer in Part 1 Chapter 2 — a long set-piece monologue that includes the explicit detail that his daughter Sonya has had to go on the streets to feed his children. Run over by a carriage in the street in Part 2 Chapter 7 and dies in the Marmeladov flat with Sonya kneeling at his side.

A consumptive widow with three small children, married Marmeladov out of desperation after her first husband's death. A former gentlewoman, unable to forget what she was. Beats the children, screams at her neighbors, gives an absurd funeral dinner for Marmeladov on borrowed money in Part 5. Dies of consumption and a final hemorrhage in the street, raving, the children clinging to her.

A man of about thirty-five, bachelor, distantly related to Razumikhin. Brilliant, jovial, patient, dangerous. Has read Raskolnikov's article on extraordinary men and engages with it seriously in their first conversation. Suspects Raskolnikov early and plays a long, talkative game with him through three set-piece interviews — Part 3 Chapter 5, Part 4 Chapter 5, Part 6 Chapter 2 — letting Raskolnikov talk himself toward confession. The novel's image of intelligence in the service of the moral law.

A young head clerk at the police bureau, fashionable, vain, slightly too friendly with Raskolnikov from their meeting in the office in Part 2 Chapter 1. Sits with him in a tavern in Part 2 Chapter 6 and listens to a near-confession Raskolnikov delivers as a kind of dare; nearly believes it; lets it pass. Used by the novel as the lower-rank version of the same instinct Porfiry has — the suspicion that this young man is the murderer.

A rich, sensual, possibly murderous landowner from the provinces. Employed Dunya as a governess and pursued her; his wife Marfa Petrovna died under unclear circumstances. Has come to Petersburg ostensibly to give Dunya a sum of money but in fact to make a final attempt on her. Says aloud the things Raskolnikov has only thought. His final night — a cheap hotel by the canal, the rain, the dreams of the dead, the pistol at dawn — is in Part 6 Chapter 6.

A pompous, calculating civil servant on the rise, about forty-five. Has selected Dunya on the explicit theory that her poverty will make her eternally grateful and therefore controllable — and explains this on his second visit. Thrown out by both Raskolnikov and Dunya in Part 4 Chapter 2. In Part 5 Chapter 3 attempts to ruin Sonya by planting a hundred-rouble note in her pocket; is exposed by Lebezyatnikov and Raskolnikov in front of the whole funeral party.

A young progressive who lodges in the same building as Luzhin and the Marmeladovs and has the latest opinions on every subject — communes, the woman question, the abolition of the family. Mostly comic, but the novel uses him at the critical moment of Part 5 Chapter 3, when he has seen Luzhin slip the hundred-rouble note into Sonya's pocket and refuses to let the frame-up stand. Decency surviving in a fool.

A small, shrivelled, vicious old widow of about sixty who runs a pawnshop out of her two-room apartment up four flights of stairs. Beats her gentle half-sister Lizaveta. Is, by Raskolnikov's calculation, a louse — a useless and cruel parasite whose death would benefit everyone. Killed by Raskolnikov with the blunt edge of an axe in Part 1 Chapter 7.

Alyona's much younger half-sister — meek, simple, possibly pregnant, beaten and worked nearly to death by her sister. Mended clothes for the poor. Walks into the apartment in the middle of the murder and is killed by the same axe before she can scream. The novel returns to her quietly: it is Lizaveta who had given Sonya her copy of the New Testament. The two women are linked in Sonya's life, and Raskolnikov has murdered them both.

The peasant servant of Raskolnikov's landlady. Brings him cabbage soup and tea and stale bread when he will eat at all, watches over him during the worst of the fever, comments dryly on his condition. The novel's only sustained portrait of a domestic working life going on around the catastrophe — and one of its quiet kindnesses.