At the end of Gogol's Dead Souls a Troika gallops off leaving the author to ask with a flourish where it is speeding off to. Gogol on his death bed was struck by a severe case of religion and had the rest of the novel put on the fire (some pages were rescued), but symbolically, as a question about Russia and which direction the country should be travelling towards the image hangs over the literature and politics of nineteenth century Russia, above all perhaps in Tolstoy's Anna Karenina.


The Ideological Novel
Tolstoy claimed that he had constructed great arches into this novel. No one has ever managed to find them, but what is clear is the clear choice the author lays out before us in this highly ideological novel. One the right hand is the good couple, Kitty and Levin, whose lives (entirely coincidentally of course) are modelled on Tolstoy's own marriage (at least those bits of it which were fit to print). They live in the countryside. They are close to the core of 'true Russianness', they farm in a Russian style, and Levin at least is aware of the beauty of the natural world. While on the left hand is the road to perdition, the moral corruption of western Europe, adulterous women, Saint Petersburg life, drugs, and steam trains. This road, we are shown through the life of Anna Karenina, ends in suicide, and by extension is leading the nation towards self-destruction.

But as a novel it more or less works, largely because Anna herself is a sympathetic character. Since her husband is not portrayed as anything other than a withered, joyless individual, her longing for life and happiness is entirely convincing. The writing, in scenes like Levin mowing (one man, two man, three men and their dog...) or duck hunting, the horse race or Anna's time in Italy, is beautiful and in the case of Anna works against the ideological drive of the novel (apparently, but then if evil were not attractive..!). But ultimately for Tolstoy an upper class woman outside of marriage, having a child and therefore a sexual relationship with a man, is a problem and one that can only be resolved through her death. The resolution of that woman problem through her death is hardly unique to Tolstoy, it is the fall back answer for Dickens in Bleak House too. Some simple, natural occurrences were apparently far too scandalous to be even contemplated in print.


The Agricultural Novel
The story of the 'Russian' couple, Kitty and Levin is in contrast to the 'western' relationship of Anna and Vronsky. On the one hand destruction running on fixed rails and powered by steam, runs over lives even as it runs over the landscape. Mechanical, alien and above all foreign the correct direction or answer is meant to lie in the countryside. Early in the novel Oblomov the titular hero has a dream of timeless unchanging life in the countryside. Oblomov (ie Mr Cloud if we loosely rendered him into English) refuses to change, the wisdom of not wanting to throw the baby out with the bathwater becomes the folly of not even wanting to part with the bathwater. This is what Tolstoy advances in Anna Karenina as a seriously considered idyll.

What we get in Anna Karenina is a fetishisation of communal agriculture and working with hand tools, most vividly realised as Levin symbolically and literally finds his rhythm as he learns how to swing his scythe and mow. As a literary set piece it is fantastic. As an idealisation of a form of life deeply Romantic, it has had, and continues to have, a deep appeal for the extreme left and far right in Russian politics. As practical agriculture it was already deeply misleading even in its day. Levin is a stand in for Tolstoy (Tolstoy was a firm believer in 'write what you know'), but in real life Tolstoy's agriculture was subsided by his literary output (actively managed by his wife who did her best to retain control over printing rights) and after Tolstoy's death the family house had to be sold to service the families debts, the large wooden structure was disassembled like flat pack furniture and carted off.

For both Tolstoy and Dostoyevsky the shock of Russia's awkward transitioning from confident gendarme of Europe, to desperately industrialising and becoming more like western Europe with new fangled representative institutions and jury trials was appallingly vivid. A idealised partly spiritual, entirely nationalistic, identity was the answer, yet as a result Tolstoy's peasants are less realistic than Turgenev's in Sketches from a Hunter's Album. Then on the eve of the emancipation of the serfs, the condition of the peasants was the great problem holding back Russia, however two decades later the problem has become the solution. The irony of the peasants induced by the promise of a barrel of vodka to build a school in Chekhov's My Life is unimaginable in Tolstoy. For him the glass of vodka for the mowers is part of the natural order of the countryside over which no shadow of alcoholism ever seems to fall. The successful estate management of the Yusupovs or the successful non-communal small farms of southern Russia and the Ukraine was not what Tolstoy was interested in. Instead he sought to cleave to the romance of the inefficient (in the sense of not being market orientated) form of communal agriculture in which Master and man worked together as a unit. Here was something safe and in his view more worth while than everything symbolised by the steady puffing locomotive.


The Horse Race
The first time I read  I imagined Vronsky as a pretty man and therefore contemptible like a foppish star of the silver screen (it is true that I am prejudiced, but at least occasionally I am honest about it). The second time with surprise I noticed the description of his red neck and hairiness. This was somebody with a real physical presence and a tangible virality. Somebody suddenly like me, red and hairy. Karenina choosing between his brisk redness and her husband's washed out greyness has an immediacy and a naturalness about it. The sensuality of the novel, whether mowing the meadow, hunting ducks or washing before the horse race is one of it's strengths.

The horse race is one of the high lights of this aspect of the novel. Visceral, immediate but also crudely symbolising the relationship between Anna Karenina and her lover, the Guards Officer Vronsky. Anna watches the race from a socially acceptable distance - she is on account of her adultery not someone who can be received in polite society. Vronsky rides the filly, trained by another man, only to feel her back break at an awkward jump as they are within sight of the finish line. He survives, she doesn't. The suffering of another is a public spectacle. The metaphor is crude, the whole set piece sharp and vivid.

Within the widely separated covers of Anna Karenina, one of Henry James' "loose baggy monsters" if ever there was, there are slimmer novellas about relationships, the state of agriculture, the physicality of life and love that are crying to be let out. Are the parts more than the sum of the whole? Or does the physical mass add to the reading experience?

Levin (which is what the title should be, since he is the main character, the real hero and the focus of the book!) (But who would read the book with that title, I know!)

If you don't want to know the ending, don't read this review, though I won't actually talk about what happens to Anna specifically, something I knew 40 years ago without even reading the book. I didn't read the book to find out what happens to her. I knew that. Probably many of you know or knew the ending before reading the book. And this isn't so much a review as a personal reflection. I was tempted, finally, after decades of NOT reading it, to now, approaching my 60th birthday, finish it, all 818 pages, tempted to just simply write: Pretty good! :) But I resist that impulse, sorry (because now, if you so choose to read on, you will have to read many more than those two words. . .).

This is as millions of people have observed over the past 140 years, a really great book, and those of you who are skeptical of reading "Great Books" or "classics" may still not be convinced, but this has in my opinion a deserved reputation of one of the great works of all time, and one of the reasons it IS so good is because it speaks humbly and eloquently against pomposity and perceived or received notions of "greatness." Why do I care about its place in the canon? I guess I really don't. I just think some books deserve the rep they get from the literary establishment, and some deserve the rep they get from the wider reading public. This one is a great literary accomplishment AND a great read, in my opinion, and deserves to be read and read widely by more than just the English major club. And I say this as one who prefers Dostoevsky to Tolstoy; I seem to prefer stories of anguish and doubt to stories of affirmation and faith, and the atheist/agnostic literary club I belong to is maybe always going to favor doubt and anguish over faith and hope and happiness. But to make clear: This surely is a book of faith, of family, of affirmation, of belief in the land, nature, goodness, and simple human joys over the life of "society" with all of its pretension. Yes, all that affirmation is true of the book in spite of what happens to Anna.

I write this in particular contexts, as we all do when we read and write. If I had read this book in my more cynical early twenties, when I actually started it once (and again a few times over my life time and never finished), when I had no kids, I might not have liked it much. If I had read this right after Crime and Punishment and The Brothers Karamazov, or in the years I was first reading Under the Volcano, Kafka, Camus, what I think of as my existentialist years, I might have found it too. . . life-affirming. But today I have kids, and as seemed to have happened with Chris Ware, as evidenced by his more positive Building Stories, having kids changed everything for me, and in a good way. In harsh times, you need stories of hope and goodness, and Levin's story is a timeless story of hope and goodness.

Another context: I am particularly shaken as I write this by the 20 kids dead in a Connecticut elementary school in Sandy Hook yesterday, with, too, a good teacher, principal, and school psychologist and others who have given their lives to doing good for children, senselessly slaughtered. This is a murderous country, the most murderous in the world, killings devastating my Chicago on a daily basis maybe especially this year, but every damned year. And despair/suicide is possibly more prevalent than ever. Maybe it is time for a bit of reordering priorities toward goodness, and finishing this book as my news feeds gave me updates on the tragedy provides an interesting contrast in experiences, rendering different but altogether persuasive truths about the nature of the world.

Tolstoy was himself, the translator Richard Pevear writes in his fine, brief introduction, in some sense writing a response to the nihilists who were as he saw it in fashion in late nineteenth century Russia, in Moscow, in Europe, in the world. Tolstoy was himself searching for meaning in life and struggling with faith and beliefs in a way he didn't ever struggle about again (or as much) after this book, and the struggle makes for the greatness, in my opinion. His late book Resurrection, by contrast, has none of the struggle about faith that this book has in it. It's mostly a binary world, all Good and Evil, a didactic allegory. Pevear says one of the two main characters, Levin, the country farmer struggling to also write his ideas about farming, is the most fully realized self-portrait that Tolstoy created, and he is on the main pretty delightful. Grumpy at times, stubborn, moody and not witty, a kind of no-nonsense traditionalist I certainly would have been annoyed at regularly if I knew him, Levin is often a kind of comical character, self-deprecatingly clueless as he approaches the Big Events of his life: His brother's death, his proposal to Kitty, the birth of his first child. These are also moments of real angst/anguish and passion and comedy/tragedy, written with great flourish and amazing detail, great sections of the book, pretty thrilling to read, in my opinion.

These are, Tolstoy tells us, in the main what life (and literature) is and should be mainly about, love and death, and they deserve loving attention for us, as are also the striving for goodness and faith. The current art scene of the time, in especially Moscow's theater and art and literature scenes, the world of fashion, the culture of massive-debt-incurring spending on a lavish lifestyle, all this Tolstoy skewers through the comical eyes of the simple farmer Levin, who at his best is so attached to the land, to family, to love, to good talk, and good friendship. But he is not a stereotype, he is a great character, fully realized.

And what can we say of Anna, the other main character, his sort of opposite? Well, if you want to look for what is in some sense a "moral" of this huge tome of a book, this might be it:

“If you look for perfection, you'll never be content.”

Or, if you want to be happy you will want to make choices that Levin makes instead of Anna's tragic choices--but Anna, in having been originally intended by Tolstoy (thanks to Pevear here for his introduction) as an immoral woman, a woman corrupted by city values, is never really only that, any more than Levin can be seen as a holy man. Tolstoy is creating literature here, not a didactic tract, and we see all along that Tolstoy falls in love with Anna as she emerges through his creation of her in his novel, and she is thus for him and us real and fascinating, a human being, and a wondrous one in many ways, one of the great women of literature, without question. You don't have to agree with her choices or like her, but she will come to life for you as few characters ever will. And many of you will fall in love with her as Tolstoy did. As I did, I'll admit.

There's one time Tolstoy has his two main characters meet, and this is a great evening, where the simple Levin actually is obviously attracted to Anna in so many ways, and not just the physical attraction all men and women seem to have for her. Levin, like Tolstoy, sees that Anna is vital, viscerally alive, she's fascinating, interesting; okay, she IS a romantic heroine, but she is a romantic heroine that anyone reading romances should read. The women of Wuthering Heights, Jane Eyre, Anna Karenina, Madame Bovary, these are "romances" but they are all so much more, that sweep you into the world in richer and deeper ways. Anna Karenina is, like War and Peace, like The Brothers Karamazov, a rich cultural forum, a series of linked meditations on farming and politics and religion and family and relationships and war and the meaning of life, not just about sex and romance. You get so much out of it, as it is all about reflecting on and teaching you how the mundane aspects of our lives are worth paying attention to (I know the bulk of readers absolutely hate the farming and politics sections of the book, but I would contend it is all relevant to Tolstoy's webbed narrative reflection on the meaning of life).

And Anna, in the very center of this tale, as a kind of twin contrast to Levin, but not a simple one (they are both suicidal at times; they both are moody and struggle and are essentially lonely for much of the book), is one shimmering, tragic character we can't simply dismiss for submitting to and crushing her life (as she does) through lust for Vronsky. We come to understand her well, we come to understand why she does what she does and why we must pity her and even support her, love her. I know a lot of people have not come to this position about her, they dismiss her as a shallow twit who throws her life away for an also shallow, callous dashing fellow, but in the end we even come to like Vronsky and pity him, and admire his resilience. He IS also an attractive character, in many ways, in spite of his shallow aspects. And maybe we are even sympathetic for them in this forbidden, unwise love. I know I am. We care for them.

Of the other main characters, I liked Kitty, Levin's wife (who deals with the dying of her husband's brother so deftly as opposed to her clueless husband) a lot, and who becomes attracted to Vronsky too in a way as so may women seem to do. Levin's two brothers are both great, and provide the basis for rich conversations. The Dolly/Oblonsky pair are yet another view of a married relationship. I even like the portrait of the sad, stiff Karenin, the diplomat we can see is a good man, certainly not a great lover for Anna, but we see his struggles and come to feel sorry for him, I think. He's not an ideal match for the passionate Anna, maybe, but he's a good and essentially blameless man. I like all the minor characters we get to meet, too, the people Tolstoy finds more genuine than all the upper crust he mocks and derides and, you know, also cares about. This is a great book, my friends, with some great characters and great scenes.

And now to the movie? I read one blurb that said without Tolstoy's gorgeous writing, any movie version of Anna Karenina will only be a soap opera, and that is what I feared. . . and that is what I found in seeing it. The movie couldn't begin to capture Tolstoy's reflections on life and love and birth and death. It was a melodrama, a good one but not great or rich as the novel.

And what do English readers miss, as my friends who read Russian and have grown up reading his prose IN Russia say? That his use of the Russian language is unparalleled, gorgeous, breathtaking. Well, I don't know the language in which Tolstoy wrote, but this translation of his tale is pretty amazing, I think. But in any language, read it, my friends.

PS I have also recently read Madame Bovary, which I also liked in spite of the main character's (also) bad choices. I liked Anna K even more, though.

Another classic in the books!

I have to say, Anna Karenina is the most spoiled book I have ever encountered. I was not surprised by the ending because I have seen dozens of books, movies, etc. where the climax of this book is discussed with reckless abandon. If this book has not been spoiled for you yet, and if your luck is anything like mine, read it soon!

Russian names:

Have you read any Russian authors before? If so, you know that not only are names repeated over and over, they are also often said in totality and they have several variations – some of which are nothing like each other. Because of this, if you try this one, get ready for lots of names and possible confusion over which character is being discussed. But, don’t worry! In general, the key players are easy to follow.

Russian politics and labor:

While this large tome has lots of story, it also has a lot of discussion on Russian politics and the labor climate at the time it was written. This could prove to be either interesting for you or boring depending on what you are looking for in a book. I did not mind it much; it did not end up being my favorite part of the book, but I do think it added a lot to the atmosphere and setting.

The role of Women:

Overall, I was left with the impression that during the time this was written, women were treated very unfairly in Russia (and, I am sure, all around the world). No matter what happened or who was at fault, a woman paid the price. I know this still goes on today with women being considered “sluts” if they sleep around, but men are considered “studs”. Shows that in some respects we have not advanced very much as a society! If a story based on unequal treatment based on gender interests you, this is a good one to read and analyze.

Overall impression:

I enjoyed this book a lot. I have seen many fawn over it as some of the greatest literature ever. I don’t feel like I was quite that enamored with it, but it was an enjoyable, easy to read, follow, and appreciate. I am very glad I took the time to read this classic and if you are looking to take on a big, famous book, this one would not be a bad choice.

تولستوی و داستایوسکی
نویسنده ای، جایی گفته بود که "داستایوسکی، نویسنده ی دوران جوانیه و تولستوی، نویسنده ی دوران بزرگسالی."
این جمله خیلی برای من خوشایند بود. هر چی دنیای داستایوسکی، پر از شور و جنون دوره ی جوانیه، دنیای تولستوی، سرشار از وقار و ملایمت دوره ی بزرگسالیه.
اولی، مثل طوفان تابستونیه: ویران کننده و سهمناک.
دومی، مثل بعد از ظهر بهاریه: خنک و رخوت انگیز.

هم توی این رمان و هم توی جنگ و صلح، یه شخصیت مهم هست که سرگشته است و به دنبال جواب میگرده (اینجا، کنستانتین لوین و توی جنگ و صلح، کنت بزوخوف) اما شخصیت سرگشته ای که تولستوی تصویر میکنه هم آروم و ملایمه. به خاطر همین تفاوت بزرگ، تصور من از تولستوی، تا مدت ها، یه پیرمرد جاافتاده بود، به خلاف داستایوسکی که تصورم ازش، یه جوان دانشجو بود و فکر میکردم که تولستوی مقدم بر داستایوسکی بوده. بعدها فهمیدم که داستایوسکی سنش خیلی بیشتر از تولستوی بوده و زودتر مرده.

این رمان
شاید خیلی ها این رمان رو تحت عنوان "عاشقانه" طبقه بندی کنن. از یه جهت درسته. عنوان کتاب، زنیه که ماجراش حول عشق میگرده. اما جدای از این، به نظرم این رمان خیلی هم عاشقانه نیست.

اول از همه، عشق آنا کاملاً از بین میره و زندگیش به طرز بی رحمانه ای نابود میشه.
ثانیاً، این نابود شدن عشق، در راه بیان یه حکم اخلاقیه. زندگی کنستانتین لوین و کیتی نابود نمیشه، به خاطر این که این مشکل اخلاقی در عشق اون ها نبوده. پس به رغم رمان های عاشقانه، عشق مطلقاً یه امر مثبت تلقی نمیشه، بلکه اصول مهم تری هستن که اونا مشخص میکنن چی مثبته و چی منفیه.
به نظر میرسه تولستوی میخواد به عشق آنا برچسب "هوس" بزنه و اونو از "عشقی" که نجات بخش زندگی انسان ها و یگانه پیام مسیح میدونه متمایز میکنه. اگه این نظرم درست باشه، پس آنا در حقیقت نقش منفی داستانه و کنستانتین لوین نقش مثبته. این که عاشق اصلی داستان نقش منفی باشه، دلیل دیگه ایه بر اینکه داستان خیلی هم عاشقانه نیست.

In front of me a glittering pond of rough oceanic waters protesting in silence in apparent stillness. Only the gentle swaying of casual waves crackling with the briny droplets of condensed breeze preludes the forthcoming storm. For below the surface, swirling undercurrents swell like lungs breathing in air of confusion and exhale the sea-secrets of the human soul.
Things are not what they seem and Anna Karenina is not only the doomed love story of a woman trapped in her own mind whose life is enslaved by social chauvinism. The Tolstoyan whirlpools of labyrinthine connections defy boundaries of pure fiction and transcend genre, presenting a series of events so naturally told that the novel seems to unfold as plotlessly and accidentally as life itself.
If “War and Peace” was a chronicle about the power of individual free will and the effect of dormant forces brought about by people in the outcome of history, Anna Karenina arises in substance as a double edged tragedy nestled in family life where suffering and unhappiness are presented as intrinsic traits of mankind, which finds itself in continuous conflict with the moral equilibrium epitomized by the harmony of the natural world.

“They have no conception of what happiness is, and they do not know that without love there is no happiness or unhappiness for us, for there would be no life.” (p.181)

Tolstoy crowns the first chapter of the novel with the epigram “Vengeance is mine, I will repay”, empathizing the fallibility of the human condition to make moral judgements and find the required spiritual stability to achieve the pinnacle of happiness. The quest is an arduous one and three unhappy families embody Tolstoy’s colliding thoughts on controversial issues such as the already decaying bourgeois class, the foundations of dogmatic religion or the political and historical events of the time, spicing it up with a long list of secondary characters that complements the vivid mosaic of the 19thC Russia.
Through brief dramatic chapters, which combine narrative, description and a nuanced internal monologue of the characters, Tolstoy makes of the reader a participant rather than a distanced observer of his story and introduces the keystone familiar units and love triangles that will serve as allegories to transmit his macro views on the world.

Anna’s universe turns around her beloved son Serezha until she crosses paths with Captain Vronsky and an ensuing obsessive and irrepressible passion blinds logic and reason, propelling her to elope with the man she loves with feverish abandon and to forsake her son and a respected position as wife of Alexei Karenin, a highly respected government minister. Anna’s remorse and Karenin’s magnanimity in forgiving the unforgivable with his generous benevolence crushes her mercilessly, provoking a moral breakdown and a spiritual duality that Anna disguises with addictive love for a man who fails to understand her needs and prioritizes his social status and career over her distorted devotion. “But there is another one in me as well, and I am afraid of her. She fell in love with the other one, and I wished to hate you but could not forget her who has before. ” (p.406)

Constantine Levin, an agnostic nobleman who struggles against his inner contradictions to find equality and efficiency in the farming business, is ensnared by the idea of marriage, which for him is “the chief thing in life, on which the whole happiness of life depends.” (p.93) . Levin projects his idealized aspirations of a dignified country life on Kitty, a virginal and naïve young girl with unfaltering faith who proves to be the guiding star of Levin’s firmament which titillates unevenly with his existential doubts, after a first unpromising encounter with Captain Vronsky that nearly ruins their only chance to secure happiness.

Anna’s brother Steve Oblonsky, appears as the perfect counterpoint to Levin’s solemnity and soberness. Full of social charm and of cheerful disposition, Oblonsky is a self-indulgent urbanite who relishes the pleasures of the restaurant, of the gambling tables and of the bedroom. Married to Dolly, Kitty’s older sister and a strong willed and highly perceptive woman, Oblonsky claims his manly independence by committing sustained and inconsequential infidelities and is liked by everybody yet respected by no one.

The reader is plunged not just into the actions of these characters, but into the almost mystical overlapping of their inner feelings and the dialectic of their hearts in which Anna and Levin, who encapsulate Tolstoy's almost androgynous alter ego in perfect depiction of both his male and female grounding, become the two leading voices singing in alternating moral chorus that continually resonates in each other’s sections, creating a rich canvas painted in meticulous brushstrokes and symbolic glaze.
Vronsky’s inability to control his faithful mare in a vertiginous racehorse echoes both Anna’s vulnerable position in an adulterous affair in the 19thC Russian society and Vronsky’s failed attempt to dominate such a delicate situation, triggering fatal events that will lead to inescapable tragedy.
Colors impregnate the text enhancing significance; purple and dark denote sensuality and temptation while white and fair are related to purity and righteousness. A kaleidoscopic exultation of shades and tinges come vibrantly to life in the descriptions of the natural world, where Tolstoy unleashes his most lyrical yet unflourishing writing style, which presents a powerful contrast to the double morale of the Russian society and the artificiality of the city life that Tolstoy so much despises.

“The moon had lost all her brilliancy and gleamed like a little cloud in the sky. Not a single star was any longer visible. The marsh grass that had glittered like silver in the dew was now golden. The rusty patches were like amber. The bluish grasses had turned yellowish green.” (p. 588)

Trains and iron railways, which are pregnant with Tolstoy’s negative connotations about economic progress, arise as bad omens linked to the expansion of the railroad and industry as opposed to his views on agricultural philosophy which elevate farming to the ultimate honest lifestyle to attain spiritual fulfillment and justice.
Trains also portrayed as metaphorical transportations in which Anna and Levin are carried away in a spiraling downfall, where life becomes a flurry of blurred images in the suffocating cabins of their minds until they reach the last station of death, which brings either hollow unease or disturbing calmness, depending on their spiritual strength to overcome the constant clashing between abstraction and reality.
Two characters, one soul.
A parallel journey, diverging fates.
Life and Death, a two way mirror.

The storm has disquieted the waters which roar in furious thunderdarkness and contort in high sloped waves crowned by foamy curls, but below the surface there is now a perdurable and serene happiness that beats with bold love and firm conviction.

n  "I think... if it is true that there are as many minds as there are heads, then there are as many kinds of love as there are hearts."n
― Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina

As I drew back the cover and stepped into the world of the Russian aristocracy, I found myself entranced by the excess and proper etiquette. A realm of high society so foreign, so inviting, that I couldn’t turn away. My eyes devoured Tolstoy’s delicious words like the sweetest candy. The characters called me in, seating me in the front row where I would have the best view. The book became an electric moment in time as their stories bewitched me. I urged Levin not to give up on love. I watched on in disbelief as a perfectly beautiful Anna was overcome with a passion that turned her into someone she no longer knew. I was dumbfounded at how Vronsky, a man filled with selfish desire, could so easily tear apart everyone who came near him and soldier on as if it were merely another day. These three were only a tiny portion of the troupe that would dominate my mind as I became wrapped up in their fates as if they were my own..

Love and pain, two such opposite emotions, yet intricately tied to one another. These were the driving forces behind this fantastic tale. It was a study of connections and intense passions, that ran the gamut from husband and wife to the affection that a man has for his country. In the end, the weight was almost unbearable for each that leapt. No matter which kind of love, there is always a price, and they had to be willing to pay it.

Very soon after I started this book, I knew the tracks would no longer be there for many of my favorite characters and that I would plunge into the abyss along with them if I didn’t get off at the next stop. I couldn’t leave them. I needed to be a part of their world even if it ended badly. As much affection as this story gave, it equally took back in tears and heartbreak.

The story is brilliant, and I could never do it justice here. If you haven’t read Anna Karenina I urge you to put aside the fact that it is a very lengthy novel and take it up. I am forever changed.

’The place where she stood seemed to him a holy shrine, unapproachable, and there was one moment when he was almost retreating, so overwhelmed was he with terror. He had to make an effort to master himself, and to remind himself that people of all sorts were moving about her, and that he too might come there to skate. He walked down, for a long while avoiding looking at her as at the sun, but seeing her, as one does the sun, without looking.’

It is with the same trepidation that I wandered into the first pages of reading Anna Karenina. In awe of this piece of literature that has stood the test of time, read for generations by so many seems, well, intimidating. And it was, at least to me, until I began reading it. And then I fell completely under the spell, which was rarely broken.

It shouldn’t surprise me, so many people that I know have loved this, but it did surprise me that I grew to care so much for the people in this story, in spite of how badly they behaved. It’s one thing to be told of the things they have done, but then Tolstoy allows us to know them, understand them, the things that drive them to such despicable lengths - and yet still feel compassion for them. Their behavior isn’t always reprehensible, if so there would be no love there to drive this love story forward, there are moments of love and appreciation of beauty in the ins and outs of their lives. Nature, the freedom and beauty of labouring under the sun and losing oneself in that labour, and in the beauty of nature, as well as the nature of love.

’...for him all the girls in the world were divided into two classes: one class--all the girls in the world except her.’

While this is a love story, it is so much more. An epic story for all, exploring many various aspects of life. Farming, faith, politics, hunting, despair, faith, and a sense of reverence for this life and the desire to leave behind something lasting, if only in the memories of those who knew us. It is filled with passion, a passion for this wild and precious life we have been given, and to honor it by living it fully with an appreciation for this gift.

’All the variety, all the charm, all the beauty of life is made up of light and shadow.’

Originally published in 1877, there is so much to this story that seems more relevant today than I could have imagined before reading this. It offers a view of society and human nature which seems relatively unchanged regardless of place, and time. While the story takes place in Imperial Russia in 1874, it is a timeless story of the goodness of people, and the division of people by their status. But underneath it all, it feels like Tolstoy is reminding us, beseeching us to take the time to truly observe not only the people in our lives, but the way we are living our lives, and our stewardship of this world.

مراجعتي للرواية في الرابط ادناه، حلقة بعنوان ليه لازم نقرأ انا كاريننا

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jQ9wu...

[Turn the volume up;
open me in new tab]





There is a well-known belief that, brimming with the romanticism of bygone days to which reason acquiesces in silence, attempts to explain the elusive nature of human relations. According to this myth, the gods get involved in our existence by using a red cord. In Japanese culture, such cord is tied around the little finger; in China, around the ankle. Be it as it may, that string binds one person to the other; people who were always destined to meet, regardless the place, time or circumstances. The character of this connection varies, since it is not restricted to lovers: the two people whose paths are meant to converge at some point, will make history in some way or another, in any given situation. It is said that the red string might get tangled or stretched but it can never break. If it breaks, then only one person was truly holding that red string. One person and a sensation.

Amid all the plausible and unrealistic explanations that might be conceived in order to unravel the true nature of all the encounters we experienced and the ones still awaiting for us, this myth is one of the most poetic ways to try to elucidate their puzzling essence while conveying a lack of randomness in human relations (this certainly goes beyond any rationalization that I could manage to elaborate and that would ultimately be rather pointless). For you could find the person to whom you were always meant to share your life with when you least expect it, no matter your marital status, undoubtedly. And a story that could epitomize this legend took place in 19th-century Russia.



Anna Karenina is not merely a story about an ill-fated relationship that begins with one of the most famous lines in classic literature. Admittedly it was prejudice what prevented me from picking up this book for years. I thought it was going to be another mawkish love story that, alongside its many comings and goings, dealt with—and probably romanticized—the theme of adultery. As much as I spent my entire life questioning the dogmas that my surroundings may have tried to impose upon my own fragile set of principles in youth (that slowly became more grounded through the years), a certain vestige may have survived, but I'm not trying to compete with Tolstoy over who has the most moralizing tone, for I judge no one but myself. To sum up, in literature, the idea of infidelity bores me, so if I have to put up with over nine hundred pages of passion, deception, lustful gazes, thrilling rendezvous and any other similar situation... I'd better stick to short stories.



So imagine my surprise when I found this substantially complex universe populated by people coming from different backgrounds, following different principles, imbued with many noble qualities and ordinary flaws; all captives of something, be it a required sense of dignity, an observance of decorum, stifling social conventions, the game of honesty and feigned emotions or a religion that ruled over most aspects of their lives. A universe defined by the sacrifice of one's wishes, the rejection of one's true feelings in order to do what is proper. A self-denial attitude to demonstrate compliance with the social rules of the world. Actions intended to safeguard a reputation that might get tarnished by truth or falsehood.

I must confess that my lips sarcastically twitched every time I read Tolstoy's effusive meditations on the magnanimous nature of religion and its elevated consequences upon people's behaviour. Oh, 'I want to turn the other cheek, I want to give my shirt when my caftan is taken, and I only pray to God that He not take from me the happiness of forgiveness!' and excerpts as such. At times, I was unable to shake off the impression of a preachy tone that perhaps it was not so, but that my skeptical disposition perceived it anyway. Thankfully, he didn't gush about that too often.
Thus, I gave in. I surrendered to the magnificence of his words, unconditionally.



Every character has been meticulously developed. They were given strong opinions and even the ones I found slightly weak at first, astonished me later when I read their poignant musings, especially when it came to women and their role in both family and society. The idea of (preferably) attractive women whose main job is to give birth, bear with husbands of libertine inclinations and accept their inability to form any opinion worth hearing because nature (un)fortunately has not endowed them with men's brilliance, has clearly survived the 19th century and still resides in some minds that surely scream progress and common sense.

A third-person omniscient narrator takes the lead and introduces us to the world of Anna Arkadyevna Karenina, Karenin's wife, who falls in love with Count Alexei Vronsky, a single, wealthy man. My feelings toward Vronsky gradually changed; I found him rather obnoxious at first—though not as much as Anna’s brother, Stepan Oblonsky, a charming and utterly selfish womanizer married to Darya (‘Dolly’).



This narrator (who acquires a suitable tone for each character and even gives voice to the thoughts of their pets) also follows the story of Konstantin Levin and Ekaterina “Kitty” Shcherbatskaya. Needless to say, Levin has become a favorite of mine. Through his actions and way of thinking, some fascinating factors came into play. His riveting conversations—that he maintained while trying to overcome a heart-rending awkwardness, especially when he found himself cornered due to his inability to disentangle his innovative thoughts when discussing philosophical and political issues—and internal monologues are for me the most memorable parts of the entire novel.

Anna's story is a faithful account of the pressure caused by social norms and the influence of the Russian Church which combined with other elements eventually brought about a relentless state of blinding jealousy, another theme deeply explored by Tolstoy, along with hypocrisy and the need to resort to appearances to be at least theoretically happy. On the contrary, Levin embodies the simplicity of the countryside life, far away from any display of unnecessary opulence; also the bewilderment regarding bureaucracy and the efforts to grasp the concept behind politics, the difficulties present in his relationship with peasants and, in a global scale, the whole agrarian system in contrast to the perception of progress seen in the city. In addition, we witness his struggles concerning faith, an aspect that immediately drew me in, as I also feel frustrated every time I ponder the essence of our existence, our identity, the acknowledgement of death—mortality salience or a persistent state of fear and anxiety—and how everything is supposed to fit an intricate system based on faith; swinging back and forth between reality and a need to believe in something.



This absolutely compelling book showed me another side of Tolstoy. He opened the doors to a world I may recognize since it is not my first Russian novel but that I have barely seen through his eyes for I stubbornly shunned his look for so long. His gifted mind, the uniqueness of his style, the now unmistakable sound of his words thanks to this wonderful translation, the beauty of his language and the sincere nature of his thoughts that were conveyed so eloquently, left an indelible impression on me. Through the characters he has skillfully brought to life, Tolstoy not only shared his views on society and politics, but also his unswerving commitment to do everything in his power to attain a meaningful life. That strenuous search we are always returning to; one that cannot be limited to any time or place since it is intrinsic to human condition. That purpose to which existence might aspire. Something to stimulate our slow, measured pace, often against the flow.

Many things lead to that much desired meaning. Many ways that by themselves are insufficient as life, in constant motion as it is, is a complement of them all. Countless roads branching out while we contemplate, with fearful eyes and wavering avidity for they have ramified in so many directions, the one we should choose.

There is one clear path that this novel illustrates with unflinchingly compassionate brushstrokes of reality. It is understandable that, seeing how love might deteriorate over time, how a kiss becomes an endless reproach and a word, a way to punish and inflict pain on others in the midst of an atmosphere of self-destruction, might make you realize of how that possibility, that unremitting sense of an ending has been injecting fear into your being through the years and all of the efforts you have made to keep a reassuring distance from everything; echoing infantile attempts at self-preservation. A child stepping into society for the first time, again; learning how to speak and behave accordingly, again. Anna, her ghosts, they all demanded, energetically; others, while yearning for different scenarios, return to the shadows, quietly. Giving too much; receiving halves, too late. Doors are always on the verge of closing; serenely becoming accustomed to nothingness.
Even so, amid a myriad of red threads that belong to the vastness of a timeless tapestry, love still constitutes one of the paths that may render a fulfilling life possible.

A bedroom adorned with poppy tears is now shrouded in silence. A red string dwelt there once. It connected two people destined to meet; people who lived a thousand lives in the eternity of a second. According to the myth, such string stretched, tangled and stretched again.
Until she seized hold of it, hoping for a season of forgiveness.






April 01, 16
* Also on my blog.

GREAT GODDDDDDD

One of a few classics that I loved reading. It's phenomenal.

Tolstoy should've been a psychologist. I can't think of another novelist, past or present, who so ably describes human emotions, motivations and thought processes, especially with regards to human relationships. That facet of his writing, is spellbinding.
And while Tolstoy will, throughout 'Anna Karenina', widen the lens, and explore larger themes, such as the betterment of society through governmental and agricultural reform (mostly through the character of Levin- a stand-in for Tolstoy himself) at its core, the novel I think, is a study of more intimate themes: family, love and marriage, infedility, morality and faith.
The novel is basically a time- share between the two main characters (who only actually meet once in the novel) Konstantin Dmitrich Levin and Anna Karenina.
Anna is the breathtakingly beautiful aristocratic wife of Alexei Karenin, a rather boring, rational government official. When Anna meets the handsome, rich young military officer, Count Vronsky, she falls madly in love with him. What follows is the fascinating transformation of Anna's character in response to her own internal struggle with decisions she makes in her pursuit of emotional honesty and how Society disdainfully casts her aside.
The novel's co- protagonist, Konstantin Dmitrich Levin (Tolstoy) is an independent thinking landowner/farmer who extolls the virtues of country life and farming as the backbone of traditional national values while struggling to find compromise as Russia finds its way in the modern world. After he settled into married life and especially when he is away from the farm and has free time on his hands, Levin is a deep thinker. Like...'what is the meaning of life?' type thinker. This is made more interesting by the fact that it parallels the authors own struggle with the big questions: Life, Death, Good vs Evil, God, Faith.
Anna Karenina is a large novel with large ideas and at the same time, touchingly human. It has been described as the greatest novel of all time. It very well could be. It is definitely a masterpiece.