I’m supposed to be finishing this in 2 days.
LOL, as they say.
Still, I have managed to finish Volume III, so that leaves only Volume IV and the two epilogues. Easy.
Volume III is amazing, like the others. There’s a lot of plot, so I’ll sum it up in some key points in case you’re interested
• Andrei is reported as dead
• Army deserts Moscow
• Rostov’s take forever to leave (of course)
• Natasha sees Pierre as they’re walking out of the city, in a kaftan, which is odd
• Pierre buys a gun to shoot Napoleon, but gets sidetracked in pleasant conversation with an egotistical French officer – much of Tolstoy’s opinion of the French here
• Andrei ends up in the Rostov’s courtyard as part of the wounded, all brought along on the Rostov’s train out of Moscow. It takes them forever.
• Helene is rumored to be pregnant by one of the men that she’s been possibly engaged to even though she’s already married to Pierre. Did I mention she’s trying to marry someone else. Pierre doesn’t seem to mind all that much, either
• Natasha and Andrei are reunited, though at first Andrei is hallucinating. He gets better, and they are deeply attached again
• Pierre saves a child from a burning building after the callous French leave her there to die. He attacks a Frenchman who is stealing boots from an old man, and is taken away by the French
• Helene dies from the quack, um, Doctor, from Spain who is trying to help her lose her indiscretion. Unlike, Andrei, I think this one’s for real
A lot goes on. Beautiful writing, as always, taking time and giving just the right information. It’s a marvel, actually.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Monday, January 3, 2011
Tolstoy and Russia
Still reading - just haven't been writing.
This article in the New York Times captivated me today, how Tolstoy is no longer appreciated after the fall of Communism. And the reason....drumroll please....he was excommunicated and not popular with the church. Not suprisingly, the church now has more power back.
I find it interesting reading the book, since he obviously is a great believer, just not in the church. This paragraph points that out -
The Soviets planted him at the top of their literary pantheon, largely because of the radical philosophy he preached amid the early rumblings of the October Revolution. The publication of “War and Peace” and “Anna Karenina” made Tolstoy so famous that one contemporary described him as Russia’s second czar. He used that position to rail against the church, as well as the police, the army, meat eating, private property and all forms of violence.
Lenin loved Tolstoy’s “pent-up hatred.” He anointed him “the mirror of the Russian Revolution,” ignoring his pacifism and belief in God. As the 50th anniversary of his death approached, the Central Committee of the Communist Party began preparing two years in advance, so a monument would be ready for unveiling.
For the centennial, in a Russia wary of utopian thought, there was nothing of the kind. By contrast, Chekhov received lavish official tributes in 2010 for his 150th birthday, including a birthplace visit from President Dmitri A. Medvedev.
It's interesting, too, as Chekhov prefigures the revolution as well, though not as overtly political as Tolstoy. How could he not at that time?
Interesting how the church comes back into power. He may have railed against the church, but reading War & Peace the spirituality, and in particular the Catholocism of the characters is never an object of fun or scorn. Princess Marya, perhaps, is a little over-the-top, but Natasha finding church and prayer is a large part of her rehabilitation after the incident with Kuragin. The soldiers, too, and the carrying of icons, is respected, even lauded at times. I don't know that Tolstoy loved the church, but he is in love with their faith. Brings tears to your eyes.
But, I guess Russia has never been that tolerant of her writers, while at the same time giving them a celebrity status that's unheard of here. And such great ones, too.
I hope he's respected again in Russia. You can't read this particular book and not see his genius. Ideas, yes, are powerful and particularly revolotionary ones, but it's sad to see the same old patterns playing themselves out.
Doesn't change my love for the book, though, and I think his work will survive. It's too good not to.
This article in the New York Times captivated me today, how Tolstoy is no longer appreciated after the fall of Communism. And the reason....drumroll please....he was excommunicated and not popular with the church. Not suprisingly, the church now has more power back.
I find it interesting reading the book, since he obviously is a great believer, just not in the church. This paragraph points that out -
The Soviets planted him at the top of their literary pantheon, largely because of the radical philosophy he preached amid the early rumblings of the October Revolution. The publication of “War and Peace” and “Anna Karenina” made Tolstoy so famous that one contemporary described him as Russia’s second czar. He used that position to rail against the church, as well as the police, the army, meat eating, private property and all forms of violence.
Lenin loved Tolstoy’s “pent-up hatred.” He anointed him “the mirror of the Russian Revolution,” ignoring his pacifism and belief in God. As the 50th anniversary of his death approached, the Central Committee of the Communist Party began preparing two years in advance, so a monument would be ready for unveiling.
For the centennial, in a Russia wary of utopian thought, there was nothing of the kind. By contrast, Chekhov received lavish official tributes in 2010 for his 150th birthday, including a birthplace visit from President Dmitri A. Medvedev.
It's interesting, too, as Chekhov prefigures the revolution as well, though not as overtly political as Tolstoy. How could he not at that time?
Interesting how the church comes back into power. He may have railed against the church, but reading War & Peace the spirituality, and in particular the Catholocism of the characters is never an object of fun or scorn. Princess Marya, perhaps, is a little over-the-top, but Natasha finding church and prayer is a large part of her rehabilitation after the incident with Kuragin. The soldiers, too, and the carrying of icons, is respected, even lauded at times. I don't know that Tolstoy loved the church, but he is in love with their faith. Brings tears to your eyes.
But, I guess Russia has never been that tolerant of her writers, while at the same time giving them a celebrity status that's unheard of here. And such great ones, too.
I hope he's respected again in Russia. You can't read this particular book and not see his genius. Ideas, yes, are powerful and particularly revolotionary ones, but it's sad to see the same old patterns playing themselves out.
Doesn't change my love for the book, though, and I think his work will survive. It's too good not to.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Volume III, Book II, Chapters XXII - XXXIX
Battle. All battle.
I'm not doing a blow by blow of these last seventeen chapters, though like everything else they're brilliant. After setting up the waiting, and analyzing the historical analysis, Tolstoy begins with a small volley, followed by another, and the battle begins.
It's clear from this section with its philosophizing about military history that Tolstoy clearly believes that battles are not won or lost by generals or emperors, but are almost fated. Everyone plays the part they have to play. Napoleon is over-confident, and no match for the Russian spirit once it's engaged. Theories, or even numbers of men make no sense. Both lost many men in the battle of Borodino, and it was the first Napoleon had lost ever. It took away their confidence, and the Russians were willing to die.
Pierre moves around in this section, haplessly stumbling completely to the front lines. He's almost shot. He becomes an entertainment, and then a distraction to the men. It's clear he has no idea why he's there. He thinks at some point that people will realize what they've done and stop. He sees men die in front of him.
There is a great exchange with Kutuzov and a German general, in which Kutuzov tells him what he knows about the front and what is happening while the general assumes he is just sitting there lumpen and useless telling people what they'd like to hear. Kutuzov, as T has told us before, knows what his place is, and just what he can and can't effect. He is correct - the Russians will not lose or give up.
Andrei is striding in battle and gets hit in the hip - he muses while laying on the battlefield that he still doesn't understand life. He is brought into surgery, quickly because of his rank, occasioning a comment from one of the men that the masters will be treated better in heaven, too. Andrei is flowing in and out of consciousness, but near him in the tent is a man who he recognizes somewhat from the back of his head. The man is handed his leg after it is amputated, with it's bloody boot still on it, and sobs. Andrei realizes it's Kuragin, and has to remind himself of his old resentment. He is filled with pity for him, and compassion, for who they used to be. It's a beautiful moment. He sees what Marya has been talking about with God, forgiveness, and others.
He saves his vitriol for Napoleon, quoting a letter he wrote after about how he would have saved Europe and instilled a constitutional reign with his son. It's completely over the top, how he sees himself as savior, and T notes that he seemed to care only for what losses the French had; that the whole event was his will, and that his justification was that fewer French were lost than other soldiers who were fighting on their side.
The last chapter begins "Several tens of thousands of men lay dead in various positions". He goes on to describe how it almost looked as if either side made a little effort, they would have won. As it was, the Russians lost half their troops. The French lost their confidence, and the book ends withe the French having met "the hand of an adversary stronger in spirit."
There is a wonderful threading of nature in here - the horses and the other animals - birds circling with the smell of blood; the metallic smell of the gun powder and blood mixed together; the smoke that engulfs the battlefield. You get a great sense of how confusing it must have been. The uniforms were bright for a reason. The battlefield was generally covered in smoke. Cannonballs and bullets "whistled" by. There is a scene with Pierre where the men are in active battle and are joking as people get hit, and rallying each other. By the end, in the group Andrei is in, they are silenced and waiting to be hit. It's harrowing.
The writing in this whole battle is wonderful - Tolstoy showing of his knowledge of the battle, his military theory, and beautiful writing. He places his characters in the forefront and watches them witness history. All the while there is this great heart underneath. It's harrowing, sad, and disorienting, and beautifully written.
End of Book II, on to Book III
I'm not doing a blow by blow of these last seventeen chapters, though like everything else they're brilliant. After setting up the waiting, and analyzing the historical analysis, Tolstoy begins with a small volley, followed by another, and the battle begins.
It's clear from this section with its philosophizing about military history that Tolstoy clearly believes that battles are not won or lost by generals or emperors, but are almost fated. Everyone plays the part they have to play. Napoleon is over-confident, and no match for the Russian spirit once it's engaged. Theories, or even numbers of men make no sense. Both lost many men in the battle of Borodino, and it was the first Napoleon had lost ever. It took away their confidence, and the Russians were willing to die.
Pierre moves around in this section, haplessly stumbling completely to the front lines. He's almost shot. He becomes an entertainment, and then a distraction to the men. It's clear he has no idea why he's there. He thinks at some point that people will realize what they've done and stop. He sees men die in front of him.
There is a great exchange with Kutuzov and a German general, in which Kutuzov tells him what he knows about the front and what is happening while the general assumes he is just sitting there lumpen and useless telling people what they'd like to hear. Kutuzov, as T has told us before, knows what his place is, and just what he can and can't effect. He is correct - the Russians will not lose or give up.
Andrei is striding in battle and gets hit in the hip - he muses while laying on the battlefield that he still doesn't understand life. He is brought into surgery, quickly because of his rank, occasioning a comment from one of the men that the masters will be treated better in heaven, too. Andrei is flowing in and out of consciousness, but near him in the tent is a man who he recognizes somewhat from the back of his head. The man is handed his leg after it is amputated, with it's bloody boot still on it, and sobs. Andrei realizes it's Kuragin, and has to remind himself of his old resentment. He is filled with pity for him, and compassion, for who they used to be. It's a beautiful moment. He sees what Marya has been talking about with God, forgiveness, and others.
He saves his vitriol for Napoleon, quoting a letter he wrote after about how he would have saved Europe and instilled a constitutional reign with his son. It's completely over the top, how he sees himself as savior, and T notes that he seemed to care only for what losses the French had; that the whole event was his will, and that his justification was that fewer French were lost than other soldiers who were fighting on their side.
The last chapter begins "Several tens of thousands of men lay dead in various positions". He goes on to describe how it almost looked as if either side made a little effort, they would have won. As it was, the Russians lost half their troops. The French lost their confidence, and the book ends withe the French having met "the hand of an adversary stronger in spirit."
There is a wonderful threading of nature in here - the horses and the other animals - birds circling with the smell of blood; the metallic smell of the gun powder and blood mixed together; the smoke that engulfs the battlefield. You get a great sense of how confusing it must have been. The uniforms were bright for a reason. The battlefield was generally covered in smoke. Cannonballs and bullets "whistled" by. There is a scene with Pierre where the men are in active battle and are joking as people get hit, and rallying each other. By the end, in the group Andrei is in, they are silenced and waiting to be hit. It's harrowing.
The writing in this whole battle is wonderful - Tolstoy showing of his knowledge of the battle, his military theory, and beautiful writing. He places his characters in the forefront and watches them witness history. All the while there is this great heart underneath. It's harrowing, sad, and disorienting, and beautifully written.
End of Book II, on to Book III
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Volume III, Book II, Chapters XIX - XXI
This whole section is about the battle at Borodino outside of Moscow – I think until the end of the volume, and I’m about there. There’s so much great stuff, but I was kind of tempted to just sum up all the chapters in one entry. Instead, I’ll go ahead and write for a few – I’ve read ahead several chapters – I’m almost at the end of this part of the Volume. Really having my doubts about finishing in time. I haven’t done the chapter math, but I have 424 pages left to go in 58 days. That’s an average of over 7 pages a day to read, not including the writing. I need to get a move on. Oy. Durn job and social life!
XIX
This chapter is all military strategy and the battle of Borodino. It’s Tolstoy the narrator giving his view of events, and theory about battles – namely that the historians are wrong and the reasons that things went the way they did was completely reactionary in the moment. It’s about Napoleon choosing his position, and if he would have done something on the 25th instead of the 24th, and what the Russians would have done. According to Tolstoy, history has been rewritten to not compromise the glory of the Russian people, but the army was twice as weak as the French and in a surprised, accidental position.
There’s even a map. And I looked up the word “redoubt”, which is a fortification.
XX
Pierre is driving out of Mozhaisk with a green coat and white hat. He really does seem a bit of a buffoon. It’s all troops marching, and Pierre caught in the middle, all unsure where they’re headed. There was a cart of wounded men, and singing of the cavalry men. It’s hot in the sun, but “where Pierre was standing, it was damp, bleak, and sad.” Ugh. Pierre keeps driving along looking for familiar faces, but is only met with shock at his size and outfit. He runs into a doctor he knows who tells him to go see Kutuzov so he would be safe during the battle.
He ruminates a little that these men were possibly going to die tomorrow, but they were surprised by his hat. Pierre goes on and sees muzhik militia men, enjoying what they were doing – building fortifications. “The sight of these bearded muzhiks working on the battlefield, with their strange, clumsy boots, and their sweaty necks, and some with their side-buttoned shirts open, revealing their sunburned collarbones, impressed Pierre more strongly than anything he had seen or heard so far about the solemnity and significance of the present moment.”
There’s a lot in this book about the peasants, and people’s reaction to them, though it’s telling we don’t really meet them. This is a story about the nobility for the most part. The peasants, as a group, are a symbol, reason for rumination, the future, etc., but not characters as far as I see.
Pierre is so lost in some ways – he keeps looking for an answer and for a way to be of use, but can’t help being a bit of a lummox.
XXI
Pierre arrives in Borodino, and keeps asking what the Russian position is (and we learned about it in XIX). He’s interrupted by peasants carrying the Mother of Smolensk icon. There’s a beautiful scene in which Pierre marvels at the solemnity and devotion of the muzhiks, and even of some of the Officers who were. The servers are weary, but even with their lazy singing “all the faces lit up again with the solemnity of the present moment that he had seen on the faces at the foot of the hill in Mozhaisk and had glimpsed on many, many faces he had met that morning: heads were bowed more frequently, hair was tossed, and sighs and thumps of crossings on breasts were heard."
Kutuzov arrives, and the men of lower rank continue praying, not really acknowledging him. “When the service was over, Kutuzov went up to the icon, knelt down heavily, bowed to the ground, and for a long time tried and was unable to standup because of his heaviness and weakness. His gray head twitched with the effort. Finally he stood up and, with a childlishly naïve puckering of the lips, kissed the icon and bowed again, touching the ground with his hand. The generals followed his example; then the officers, and after them, crushing each other, stamping, puffing and jostling, with excited faces, came the soldiers and militiamen.”
Just beautiful. The writing is cinematic before cinema. It’s another marvel of his writing - he deftly moves between the specific in scope (Kutuzov) to the general (the men rushing the icon). It’s such a beautiful scene, too, showing the politics of the military, the faith of the men, the physicality and age of the general. The arrival of the icon with the thumping of the breasts and tossing hair - it’s all you need to know.
XIX
This chapter is all military strategy and the battle of Borodino. It’s Tolstoy the narrator giving his view of events, and theory about battles – namely that the historians are wrong and the reasons that things went the way they did was completely reactionary in the moment. It’s about Napoleon choosing his position, and if he would have done something on the 25th instead of the 24th, and what the Russians would have done. According to Tolstoy, history has been rewritten to not compromise the glory of the Russian people, but the army was twice as weak as the French and in a surprised, accidental position.
There’s even a map. And I looked up the word “redoubt”, which is a fortification.
XX
Pierre is driving out of Mozhaisk with a green coat and white hat. He really does seem a bit of a buffoon. It’s all troops marching, and Pierre caught in the middle, all unsure where they’re headed. There was a cart of wounded men, and singing of the cavalry men. It’s hot in the sun, but “where Pierre was standing, it was damp, bleak, and sad.” Ugh. Pierre keeps driving along looking for familiar faces, but is only met with shock at his size and outfit. He runs into a doctor he knows who tells him to go see Kutuzov so he would be safe during the battle.
He ruminates a little that these men were possibly going to die tomorrow, but they were surprised by his hat. Pierre goes on and sees muzhik militia men, enjoying what they were doing – building fortifications. “The sight of these bearded muzhiks working on the battlefield, with their strange, clumsy boots, and their sweaty necks, and some with their side-buttoned shirts open, revealing their sunburned collarbones, impressed Pierre more strongly than anything he had seen or heard so far about the solemnity and significance of the present moment.”
There’s a lot in this book about the peasants, and people’s reaction to them, though it’s telling we don’t really meet them. This is a story about the nobility for the most part. The peasants, as a group, are a symbol, reason for rumination, the future, etc., but not characters as far as I see.
Pierre is so lost in some ways – he keeps looking for an answer and for a way to be of use, but can’t help being a bit of a lummox.
XXI
Pierre arrives in Borodino, and keeps asking what the Russian position is (and we learned about it in XIX). He’s interrupted by peasants carrying the Mother of Smolensk icon. There’s a beautiful scene in which Pierre marvels at the solemnity and devotion of the muzhiks, and even of some of the Officers who were. The servers are weary, but even with their lazy singing “all the faces lit up again with the solemnity of the present moment that he had seen on the faces at the foot of the hill in Mozhaisk and had glimpsed on many, many faces he had met that morning: heads were bowed more frequently, hair was tossed, and sighs and thumps of crossings on breasts were heard."
Kutuzov arrives, and the men of lower rank continue praying, not really acknowledging him. “When the service was over, Kutuzov went up to the icon, knelt down heavily, bowed to the ground, and for a long time tried and was unable to standup because of his heaviness and weakness. His gray head twitched with the effort. Finally he stood up and, with a childlishly naïve puckering of the lips, kissed the icon and bowed again, touching the ground with his hand. The generals followed his example; then the officers, and after them, crushing each other, stamping, puffing and jostling, with excited faces, came the soldiers and militiamen.”
Just beautiful. The writing is cinematic before cinema. It’s another marvel of his writing - he deftly moves between the specific in scope (Kutuzov) to the general (the men rushing the icon). It’s such a beautiful scene, too, showing the politics of the military, the faith of the men, the physicality and age of the general. The arrival of the icon with the thumping of the breasts and tossing hair - it’s all you need to know.
Monday, November 22, 2010
Volume III, Book II, Chapters XVI - XVIII
XVI
Sweet intimate moment between Andrei and Kutuzov. Andrei tells Kutuzov he would rather be with the men that have a position with him, which Kutuzov understands. Kutuzov is deeply moved, and his eyes glisten with tears as he says they'll make the French eat horseflesh. The serenity goes back to reading his book as Andrei leaves - a French book, of course.
Andrei realizes that Kutuzov is the best person to be in his position because he knows who he is and what life is. "He won't have anything of his own. He won't invent, won't undertake anything...but he'll listen to everything, remember everything, put everything in its place, won't hinder anything useful or allow anything harmful. He understands that there is something stronger and more significant than his will - the inevitable course of events - and he's able to see them, able to understand their significance, and, in view of that significance, is able to renounce participating in those events, renounce his personal will and direct it elsewhere. And the main reason one believes in him...is that he's Russian; despite the Genlis novel and the French proverbs...."
It's intimate between the two men; Kutuzov has known Andrei since he was a boy and respects his need to be with the troops. This determined outcome is something T comes back to again and again - that the men are just pawns in an outcome that has to happen. What is that, Calvinist? I don't know if I'd go so far as to call it religious, but there's a feeling that history is written in hindsight, and the men who are acting are just fulfilling it without realizing. For sure, especially with communication as it must have been in 1812, one man's orders were only as good as the thousands carrying them out hearing from others. Craziness. Now it's all computers
XVII
Gossip in the circles. Back in Moscow. Everyone's deserting, and the government officers have left. There's a rumor that count Rastopchin is not allowing people to leave Moscow. There is gossip about Pierre, that the regiment was costing him much, but that he would ride in front of it and let people look at him without a charge. Julie Drubetskoy's circle made fun of him that way, and they were a circle that fined people for speaking in French. Pierre comes in and they speak of the Rostov's, who are unable to sell their house. Pierre says they're waiting for the younger son to return to leave. Then there is the revelation that Marie Bolkonsky is back in Moscow, and is said to be smitten with Nikolai after he saved her (word travels fast!). At the end, someone tells her she should pay a fine for speaking in French, and it ends with her saying 'But how do you say it in Russian...?'
Brilliant chapter. Not only does it sum up a lot of information, it does it while relating the out-of-touch quality of the nobility, and their inability to even speak their native language. It's wild to me how bound up the Russians were with the French at this point - as if the aristocracy didn't even speak the same language. And though this was written in 1865, 40 years before the 05 revolution, and 52 before the big one, you can feel it stirring. Tolstoy was an aristocrat himself, but it's clear he holds no absolute love. That's another treatise, though...
XVIII
Pierre decides he must go into the army. He's met by his last remaining cousin, whom he has cared for since his father died. She's hysterical about leaving, and feels she must be taken to Petersburg to avoid Bonaparte's rule. He tells her the city is fine, and that's she's been misinformed. Pierre plays a game of patience and tells himself that if it comes out he'll join the army - he doesn't. He does, though, agree to sell an estate for a militia, as that's the only thing that can be done. He goes to a village to look at a hot-air balloon being launched to fight the enemy (we're way before planes, remember), and he sees the flogging of a Frenchman. He is beaten so badly that he begins to cry. Pierre is upset at the crowd's taunting the man, and gets angry. He leaves for the army immediately, and the further he goes toward the battle the lighter he feels. The chapter ends with this: "He now experienced a pleasant sense of awarneness that everything else that constitutes people's hapiness, the comforts of life, wealth, even life itself, is nonsense, which it is pleasant to throw away, in comparison with something...With what, Pierre could not account for himself, nor did he try to clarify to himself and for whom and for what he found it so particularly delightful to sacrifice everything. He was not concerned with what he wanted to sacrific it for, but the sacrificing itself constituted a new, joyful, feeling for him."
The brilliance of this book, one of the many, are characters coming upon life lessons - that's not original, but what is is the way they float in and out, changing. They are strong one moment, forgotten the next - elusive, and life changing at the same time. He also does those moments like the execution so well - crowd scenes, humanity, people displaying sometimes not their best selves. So great.
Sweet intimate moment between Andrei and Kutuzov. Andrei tells Kutuzov he would rather be with the men that have a position with him, which Kutuzov understands. Kutuzov is deeply moved, and his eyes glisten with tears as he says they'll make the French eat horseflesh. The serenity goes back to reading his book as Andrei leaves - a French book, of course.
Andrei realizes that Kutuzov is the best person to be in his position because he knows who he is and what life is. "He won't have anything of his own. He won't invent, won't undertake anything...but he'll listen to everything, remember everything, put everything in its place, won't hinder anything useful or allow anything harmful. He understands that there is something stronger and more significant than his will - the inevitable course of events - and he's able to see them, able to understand their significance, and, in view of that significance, is able to renounce participating in those events, renounce his personal will and direct it elsewhere. And the main reason one believes in him...is that he's Russian; despite the Genlis novel and the French proverbs...."
It's intimate between the two men; Kutuzov has known Andrei since he was a boy and respects his need to be with the troops. This determined outcome is something T comes back to again and again - that the men are just pawns in an outcome that has to happen. What is that, Calvinist? I don't know if I'd go so far as to call it religious, but there's a feeling that history is written in hindsight, and the men who are acting are just fulfilling it without realizing. For sure, especially with communication as it must have been in 1812, one man's orders were only as good as the thousands carrying them out hearing from others. Craziness. Now it's all computers
XVII
Gossip in the circles. Back in Moscow. Everyone's deserting, and the government officers have left. There's a rumor that count Rastopchin is not allowing people to leave Moscow. There is gossip about Pierre, that the regiment was costing him much, but that he would ride in front of it and let people look at him without a charge. Julie Drubetskoy's circle made fun of him that way, and they were a circle that fined people for speaking in French. Pierre comes in and they speak of the Rostov's, who are unable to sell their house. Pierre says they're waiting for the younger son to return to leave. Then there is the revelation that Marie Bolkonsky is back in Moscow, and is said to be smitten with Nikolai after he saved her (word travels fast!). At the end, someone tells her she should pay a fine for speaking in French, and it ends with her saying 'But how do you say it in Russian...?'
Brilliant chapter. Not only does it sum up a lot of information, it does it while relating the out-of-touch quality of the nobility, and their inability to even speak their native language. It's wild to me how bound up the Russians were with the French at this point - as if the aristocracy didn't even speak the same language. And though this was written in 1865, 40 years before the 05 revolution, and 52 before the big one, you can feel it stirring. Tolstoy was an aristocrat himself, but it's clear he holds no absolute love. That's another treatise, though...
XVIII
Pierre decides he must go into the army. He's met by his last remaining cousin, whom he has cared for since his father died. She's hysterical about leaving, and feels she must be taken to Petersburg to avoid Bonaparte's rule. He tells her the city is fine, and that's she's been misinformed. Pierre plays a game of patience and tells himself that if it comes out he'll join the army - he doesn't. He does, though, agree to sell an estate for a militia, as that's the only thing that can be done. He goes to a village to look at a hot-air balloon being launched to fight the enemy (we're way before planes, remember), and he sees the flogging of a Frenchman. He is beaten so badly that he begins to cry. Pierre is upset at the crowd's taunting the man, and gets angry. He leaves for the army immediately, and the further he goes toward the battle the lighter he feels. The chapter ends with this: "He now experienced a pleasant sense of awarneness that everything else that constitutes people's hapiness, the comforts of life, wealth, even life itself, is nonsense, which it is pleasant to throw away, in comparison with something...With what, Pierre could not account for himself, nor did he try to clarify to himself and for whom and for what he found it so particularly delightful to sacrifice everything. He was not concerned with what he wanted to sacrific it for, but the sacrificing itself constituted a new, joyful, feeling for him."
The brilliance of this book, one of the many, are characters coming upon life lessons - that's not original, but what is is the way they float in and out, changing. They are strong one moment, forgotten the next - elusive, and life changing at the same time. He also does those moments like the execution so well - crowd scenes, humanity, people displaying sometimes not their best selves. So great.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Volume III, Book II, Chapters XIII-XV
XIII
Rostov and Ilyin, along with Lavrushka (the one who talked with Napoleon), go on a ride from their camp and end up in Bogucharavo, where they hope to find some pretty young women to flirt with.
They arrive just after Marya’s meeting with the peasants. Dunyasha goes out to ask their names, and Alpatych tells them the whole story: that the Princess is stuck there with all the bags packed as the peasants have threatened to unharness the horses and let them go. If she stays they will obey her, but if she tries to leave, they’ll stop her.
Nikolai meets her, and is struck immediately by her nobility and grace. There’s a great moment here about decorum – “With the respectfulness of his tone, Rostov seemed to be showing that, though he would consider himself fortunate to make her acquaintance, he did not want to use the occasion of her misfortune to become closer to her.
Princess Marya understood and appreciated that tone.”
More will be revealed, but I’m pretty certain of what it is. I do love imagining what’s not explicit here – the smell of the grain, the dark hallways of the house in summer with the dresses rustling against the wood floors; the rooms with the small, ornate furniture; the rush of Dunyasha bringing Nikolai into meet the princess.
This book is so great.
XIV
Rostov gives the muzhiks a piece of his mind. They’re quarreling among themselves about what just happened. Nikolai walks up and starts calling them traitors and asking for people to be bound. When he calls for Dron, two of the other peasants actually come up and hold his hands behind him. He tells them to get to their houses, and help load the carts, and within two hours everything’s ready. They’re even worried about damaging her nice things. I don’t know if it’s a lot to believe, or if it’s just not something I have experience in, but he does make the peasants seem simple-ish. I guess they would be used to a male authority figure, and any rebellion would obviously not be organized or able to stand up to the existing hierarchy. Certainly this one folded quickly.
Rostov doesn’t see the princess in her house, but does ride with her to an inn along the way and allows himself to kiss her hand when he leaves. She is smitten, and realizes she may be falling in love. He feels the same, but gets angry thinking about her wealth and being teased, let alone the promise he made to Sonya. It would, though, solve his family’s problems, as well as make both him and Marya happy (if not Sonya). It seems pretty clear he feels it, too, though. Ah, romance.
XV
Andrei goes to Tsarevo – Zaimishche to see Kutuzov. I love that town name – probably because it ends in ish-che, which just sounds really Russian to me. Everyone calls Kutuzov “his serenity”. That’s a great detail.
And guess what? Denisov’s back! He’s there to talk to Kutuzov about a battle plan. He makes Andrei think of that long ago time with Natasha, and how Denisov was in love with her.
Kutuzov arrives, and takes Andrei and Denisov with him. He tiredly listens to Denisov’s plan:
Everything Denisov has said was practical and intelligent. What the general on duty was saying was still more practical and intelligent, but it was obvious that Kutuzov depsied both knowledge and intelligence, and knew something else that was to decide the matter – something that did not depend on intelligence and knowledge…it was obvious that Kutuzov despised the intelligence, knowledge, and even the patriotic feelings shown by Denisov, but he despised them not with his intelligence, feelings, or knowledge (for he did not even try to show any), he despised them with something else. He despised them with his old age, with his experience of life.
He tells the general that he can’t do anything about looting, since if you allow it or not it doesn’t matter. “Oh, German scrupulosity!” he says. Supposedly the Russians called all foreigners “Germans”. But either way, Kuzutov is old enough to know what he can and can’t do.
Interesting chapter. Glad to see Denisov is back and afire again. He’s one of my favorites, and I love his speech impediment thing. Yay.
Rostov and Ilyin, along with Lavrushka (the one who talked with Napoleon), go on a ride from their camp and end up in Bogucharavo, where they hope to find some pretty young women to flirt with.
They arrive just after Marya’s meeting with the peasants. Dunyasha goes out to ask their names, and Alpatych tells them the whole story: that the Princess is stuck there with all the bags packed as the peasants have threatened to unharness the horses and let them go. If she stays they will obey her, but if she tries to leave, they’ll stop her.
Nikolai meets her, and is struck immediately by her nobility and grace. There’s a great moment here about decorum – “With the respectfulness of his tone, Rostov seemed to be showing that, though he would consider himself fortunate to make her acquaintance, he did not want to use the occasion of her misfortune to become closer to her.
Princess Marya understood and appreciated that tone.”
More will be revealed, but I’m pretty certain of what it is. I do love imagining what’s not explicit here – the smell of the grain, the dark hallways of the house in summer with the dresses rustling against the wood floors; the rooms with the small, ornate furniture; the rush of Dunyasha bringing Nikolai into meet the princess.
This book is so great.
XIV
Rostov gives the muzhiks a piece of his mind. They’re quarreling among themselves about what just happened. Nikolai walks up and starts calling them traitors and asking for people to be bound. When he calls for Dron, two of the other peasants actually come up and hold his hands behind him. He tells them to get to their houses, and help load the carts, and within two hours everything’s ready. They’re even worried about damaging her nice things. I don’t know if it’s a lot to believe, or if it’s just not something I have experience in, but he does make the peasants seem simple-ish. I guess they would be used to a male authority figure, and any rebellion would obviously not be organized or able to stand up to the existing hierarchy. Certainly this one folded quickly.
Rostov doesn’t see the princess in her house, but does ride with her to an inn along the way and allows himself to kiss her hand when he leaves. She is smitten, and realizes she may be falling in love. He feels the same, but gets angry thinking about her wealth and being teased, let alone the promise he made to Sonya. It would, though, solve his family’s problems, as well as make both him and Marya happy (if not Sonya). It seems pretty clear he feels it, too, though. Ah, romance.
XV
Andrei goes to Tsarevo – Zaimishche to see Kutuzov. I love that town name – probably because it ends in ish-che, which just sounds really Russian to me. Everyone calls Kutuzov “his serenity”. That’s a great detail.
And guess what? Denisov’s back! He’s there to talk to Kutuzov about a battle plan. He makes Andrei think of that long ago time with Natasha, and how Denisov was in love with her.
Kutuzov arrives, and takes Andrei and Denisov with him. He tiredly listens to Denisov’s plan:
Everything Denisov has said was practical and intelligent. What the general on duty was saying was still more practical and intelligent, but it was obvious that Kutuzov depsied both knowledge and intelligence, and knew something else that was to decide the matter – something that did not depend on intelligence and knowledge…it was obvious that Kutuzov despised the intelligence, knowledge, and even the patriotic feelings shown by Denisov, but he despised them not with his intelligence, feelings, or knowledge (for he did not even try to show any), he despised them with something else. He despised them with his old age, with his experience of life.
He tells the general that he can’t do anything about looting, since if you allow it or not it doesn’t matter. “Oh, German scrupulosity!” he says. Supposedly the Russians called all foreigners “Germans”. But either way, Kuzutov is old enough to know what he can and can’t do.
Interesting chapter. Glad to see Denisov is back and afire again. He’s one of my favorites, and I love his speech impediment thing. Yay.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Volume III, Book II, Chapters X - XII
X
Marya is sitting around, locked in her room, lying on a couch, thinking about her “inner loathsomeness” for thinking as she did about her father and the possibility of his dying before he died. She’s interrupted by Mlle Bourienne, who gives her a leaflet from the French they’ve been dropping in the village asking the villagers to cooperate. Suddenly, hit with a bout of nationalism she runs up to Andrei’s study and calls for help. She asks Dunyasha to tell Bourienne to not come near her, and to leave quickly. She’s horrified at the thought of the French coming into their house, being treated well by Bourienne, and possibly taking liberties with her as well.
She calls Alpatych to see Dron, who finally comes to her. He explains that there are no horses for her to leave, and that there has been no food for them to eat.
She is shocked and says they can have the master’s grain, and anything they have is for the muzhiks. Dron once again asked to be relieved of his keys and his duty, which confuses her.
I don’t think it’s this chapter, but I can’t remember if I mentioned that the peasants were talking about setting the horses free rather than permit her to leave. I think they think it would be more dangerous if they were left alone, but also know that if she leaves they have no protector, either. So they’re forcing her to stay.
XI
The muzhiks gather to talk to her. She addresses them, telling them that she is giving them all their grain, and whatever they’d like, and begs them to come with her to the Moscow estate where they will be taken care of.
They react badly, all talking about going into servitude, and being in bondage to her. They tell her to go by herself.
Strangely, none of them will look her in the eye. She leaves, asking Dron to have the horses ready for departure, and to be alone with her thoughts.
At this point, I was slightly confused, but it makes some sense – they don’t know what they’re being asked to do except abandon their lives and everything they’ve known to follow this woman. She doesn’t seem all that powerful or knowing, really. Just sad. So I’m sure it’s thinking she’s a clueless noble who wants to do good but doesn’t think about anyone else in it. Either way, I think it’s interesting no one will look her in the eye
XII
Marya is obsessing about her father’s death, namely that she didn’t go to him when she felt that she should have, for fear of upsetting him, and all the while he wanted to see her. It seems like they had a reconciliation, but she feels she could have been there more for him.
She then remembers him in the coffin, and freaks herself out, basically.
She’s a fragile flower, that Marya. One has a to be a little careful with her, I think. She does love hating herself a lot. I guess you gotta have a hobby, right?
Marya is sitting around, locked in her room, lying on a couch, thinking about her “inner loathsomeness” for thinking as she did about her father and the possibility of his dying before he died. She’s interrupted by Mlle Bourienne, who gives her a leaflet from the French they’ve been dropping in the village asking the villagers to cooperate. Suddenly, hit with a bout of nationalism she runs up to Andrei’s study and calls for help. She asks Dunyasha to tell Bourienne to not come near her, and to leave quickly. She’s horrified at the thought of the French coming into their house, being treated well by Bourienne, and possibly taking liberties with her as well.
She calls Alpatych to see Dron, who finally comes to her. He explains that there are no horses for her to leave, and that there has been no food for them to eat.
She is shocked and says they can have the master’s grain, and anything they have is for the muzhiks. Dron once again asked to be relieved of his keys and his duty, which confuses her.
I don’t think it’s this chapter, but I can’t remember if I mentioned that the peasants were talking about setting the horses free rather than permit her to leave. I think they think it would be more dangerous if they were left alone, but also know that if she leaves they have no protector, either. So they’re forcing her to stay.
XI
The muzhiks gather to talk to her. She addresses them, telling them that she is giving them all their grain, and whatever they’d like, and begs them to come with her to the Moscow estate where they will be taken care of.
They react badly, all talking about going into servitude, and being in bondage to her. They tell her to go by herself.
Strangely, none of them will look her in the eye. She leaves, asking Dron to have the horses ready for departure, and to be alone with her thoughts.
At this point, I was slightly confused, but it makes some sense – they don’t know what they’re being asked to do except abandon their lives and everything they’ve known to follow this woman. She doesn’t seem all that powerful or knowing, really. Just sad. So I’m sure it’s thinking she’s a clueless noble who wants to do good but doesn’t think about anyone else in it. Either way, I think it’s interesting no one will look her in the eye
XII
Marya is obsessing about her father’s death, namely that she didn’t go to him when she felt that she should have, for fear of upsetting him, and all the while he wanted to see her. It seems like they had a reconciliation, but she feels she could have been there more for him.
She then remembers him in the coffin, and freaks herself out, basically.
She’s a fragile flower, that Marya. One has a to be a little careful with her, I think. She does love hating herself a lot. I guess you gotta have a hobby, right?
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