

As always with Dostoyevsky a bit of an uncomfortable read, where the author makes you hate everyone, but this time I couldn't feel that I was empathising with any character, perhaps I'm now too old to relate to raw youths. At times it felt like the story was wandering aimlessly, but I flew through the last chapters. It is probably my least favourite Dostoevsky so far, but his worst work is still better than many other author's best.