به خاطر رشته م تو دانشگاه هیچ وقت نمی تونستم به نوعی ارتباط بین اون و ادبیات پیدا کنم. تا اینکه به سرم زد کار تحقیقی دوره ی کارشناسیم رو یه موضوع بین رشته ای (بین حقوق و ادبیات) بردارم. اون هم چی: جرم و مجازات از نگاه تولستوی و داستایفسکی. و اینطور شد که به بهانه ی این کار افتادم به جون کتابای این دو نفر. روزگار خوشی داشتیم. در مورد این کتاب هم باید بگم امکان نداره که کسی ادعا کنه که تک تک خطوط این کتاب رو ریز به ریز خونده باشه. ولی کتابی بود که با وجود حجیم بودنش لذت بردم از همراه بودن باهاش

Fulfilled a New Year's resolution to re-read at least one favorite novel in 2018 -- completed this one two weeks before the January 1, 2019 deadline. This time read the Constance Garnett translation (first time through I read the Briggs translation). Also intermittently listened to the audiobook, playing the disorientating opening scenes over and over, but haven't made it too deeply into the second part yet. Felt like a first read in many ways since I didn't remember that much from eleven years ago beyond major moments like the duel, Prince Andrey at Austerlitz, the wolf hunt, Ellen's pale bare back and bosom, Moscow in flames, the essay on history and necessity at the end. It's odd to say "I've read this" but not really remember much of it, although I certainly experienced it before, page by page, although a different translation with a slightly different feel. I'll definitely be re-reading favorites a lot more thanks to my apparently pretty crappy memory.

The 2007 Briggs translation I read first seemed a little more contemporary but also mythic/fable-like, aerated (not as dense -- possibly related to formatting), and populated by cockney-tongued Brits. The Garnett translation (1904) I just finished is responsible in large part for the novel's initial reputation in English (although 1922 Louise and Aylmer Maude and 1954 Rosemary Edmonds translations surely played major roles as well of course) -- it felt solid, grand, suitably dated in syntax and word choice (relaying a story that occurred more than two centuries ago), and maybe like 19th-century British novels I haven't yet read (Austen, Brontes, Eliot, Trollope) -- it also had a handful of typos (including three on one page!) that have probably persisted since initial publication.

In 2019, I intend to read some W&P/Tolstoy-related criticism, a Leo bio or two, the Maude, the Pevear & Volokhonsky, and maybe even the Edmonds translations, three story collections, AK again (in the Garnett translation this time), and whatever else in 2019. That's the plan at least. I haven't devoted myself to "studying" a novel since college -- semi-systematic multiple reads plus secondary sources and biographies could be valuable? I think I'm intuitively drawn to doing something like this in response to a sort of general disillusionment with literature, especially its contemporary variant and its expression online (listicles, think pieces, promotion of new publications so often over-hyped, leading to disappointment and feeling like I've been duped by literary marketers and their electric outposts). I sort of conceive this little Great Russian reading project as antidote and a way to rekindle reading/writing enthusiasm by repeatedly jumping through the flames of a novel I trust to offer plenty of instruction on how to live and how to write, all while demonstrating what it is that makes a novel "great" or at least endure and meet/exceed its out-sized reputation.

This time through I was most interested in its structure, how it felt like a color wheel of characterization, with the primary male colors of Pierre, Prince Andrei, and Nikolai blending with the primary females colors of Natasha, Ellen, and Marya to create different effects for the reader. Each character exists on a moral/spiritual/societal continuum, with Andrei, Pierre, Nikolai inexactly corresponding to Marya, Natasha, and Ellen in terms of their progression from most spiritual/least engaged with society and most-to-least intellectual. But then again there are nearly 500 comparatively minor characters, all with their hues, blending and contrasting with the primaries.

Early on, Anna Pavlova (a character easily confused with Anna Mihalovna thanks to their names and general similarity -- both seem significant at first and both fall away entirely before too long) is described as attending to those at her party like a mechanic expertly inspecting and perfecting the interlocking gears of a machine:

Just as the foreman of a spinning-mill settles the work-people in their places, walks up and down the works, and noting any stoppage or unusual creaking or too loud a whir in the spindles, goes up hurriedly, slackens the machinery and sets it going properly, so Anna Pavlovna, walking about her drawing-room, went up to any circle that was pausing or too loud in conversation and by a single word or change of position set the conversational machine going again in its regular, decorous way. (pg 8)

That gear metaphor stuck with me in a novel that really doesn't function on the level of symbol. I read that line metafictionally, relating to the author, expertly organizing the seamless display of the novel's players -- it was a line that seemed to suggest that I should support the author's authority. Initial disorientation (the first sentence is unattributed dialogue) is intentional and I will clarify it for you if you lend me your patience. It definitely sets you down in the middle of things and not until nearly 200 pages in (a sensation I remember from my first read) does the narrative focus once the primary characters emerge. Just like the French and Russian armies, the troops are gathered and by the end they're winnowed down to a handful of survivors, either thanks to death or disappearance I suppose thanks to being no longer necessary.

The characterization of everyone is superlative -- not just each character's description and consistent POV and way of being in the world but also their modulation and transformation. The major characters are on a journey as long and as arduous and as fraught with emotional, spiritual, and physical plot-propelling obstacles/disturbances as Napoleon's path from Paris to Moscow and back again. The narrative too, the experience of reading the novel, also feels like the French Army's campaign in a way, as though the initial experience of fear and delight when embarking on an 1386-page novel gives way to total forward flow halfway through in the heat of battle as the pages turn themselves propelled by love stories (Pierre and Ellen, Prince Andrei and Natasha, Nikolai and Sonya at first and then Marya), each character with a spiritual rise and fall and rise again, supported by wonderfully drawn minor characters like Boris the social-climbing conformist; Petya Rostov, the post-adolescent obsessed by a fervor for warfare; and of course the primary fictional villains/agents of disturbance and thereby plot-propulsion Anatole Kuragin and Dolokhov (page 666, one of my favorite descriptive paragraphs in the novel, perfectly describes their preferred coachman/chauffeur/old-fashioned Uber driver and how these immoral young men raise hell speeding through Moscow, running over peasants, boozing, cavorting with alluring Gypsy hussies etc):

n  Balaga was a well-known driver, who had known Dolohov and Anatole for the last six years, and driven them in his three-horse sledges. More than once, when Anatole's regiment had been stationed at Tver, he had driven him out of Tver in the evening, reached Moscow by dawn, and driven him back the next night. More than once he had driven Dolohov safe away when he was being pursued. Many a time he had driven them about the town with gypsies and “gay ladies,” as he called them. More than one horse had he ruined in driving them. More than once he had driven over people and upset vehicles in Moscow, and always his “gentlemen,” as he called them, had got him out of trouble. Many a time had they beaten him, many a time made him drunk with champagne and madeira, a wine he loved, and more than one exploit he knew of each of them, which would long ago have sent any ordinary man to Siberia. They often called Balaga in to their carousals, made him drink and dance with the gypsies, and many a thousand roubles of their money had passed through his hands. In their service, twenty times a year, he risked his life and his skin, and wore out more horses than they repaid him for in money. But he liked them, liked their furious driving, eighteen versts an hour, liked upsetting coachmen, and running down people on foot in Moscow, and always flew full gallop along the Moscow streets. He liked to hear behind him the wild shout of drunken voices, “Get on; get on!” when it was impossible to drive faster; liked to give a lash on the neck to a passing peasant who was already hastening out of his way more dead than alive. “Real gentlemen!” he thought."n

But there's also the novel's #1 villain, Napoleon himself, the Antichrist alluded to in the first paragraph, later shown to have a twitching calf muscle when worked up, presented as the novel's greatest thematic foil/fall guy since the novel is about -- the one most explicitly expressed among the swarm of ideas/sub-dualities, beyond the title's obvious uber-duality, mostly expressed via dramatization -- undermining the idea of the great man who forces the hand of history. Instead, Tolstoy (affectionately referred to by a critic as the older brother of God) primarily shows but also tells in pretty clear although super-repetitive straight-up essay, that so many other factors are in play. History proceeds primarily thanks to necessity -- on a micro/personal level we think we're free to act but overall there's a macro-fate/progress essentially proceeding per necessity that subsumes everyone's micro-freedom. Leaders like Napoleon or the Russian commander-in-chief Kutuzov aren't responsible for victory or defeat for example so much as the results are an amalgamated inevitability, a rational progression of next steps guided toward its conclusions by the generalized spirit of the people. In this way, the novel is a supreme champion of complexity, always erring (other than when it reduces the complexity of the history of the world to the history of necessity) on the side of arguments that consider ALL SIDES instead of any one reduction of reality to something easier to digest. In short, it's the archquaquaversalist text. And here's its representative sentence, with narrative, social, generational, and sort of psychedelic/kaleidoscopic theological overtones (only one page -- pg 1212 -- did I dog-ear from the bottom corner to quickly find what felt to me like the book's representative passage):

n  Again the facts of real life mingled with his dreams; and again some one, himself or some one else, was uttering thoughts in his ear, and the same thoughts, indeed, as had come in his dream at Mozhaisk.

Life is everything. Life is God. All is changing and moving, and that motion is God. And while there is life, there is the joy of the consciousness of the Godhead. To love life is to love God. The hardest and the most blessed thing is to love this life in one's sufferings, in undeserved suffering.

“Karataev!” flashed into Pierre's mind. And all at once there rose up, as vivid as though alive, the image, long forgotten, of the gentle old teacher, who had given Pierre geography lessons in Switzerland. “Wait a minute,” the old man was saying. And he was showing Pierre a globe. This globe was a living, quivering ball, with no definite limits. Its whole surface consisted of drops, closely cohering together. And those drops were all in motion, and changing, several passing into one, and then one splitting up again into many. Every drop seemed striving to spread, to take up more space, but the others, pressing upon it, sometimes absorbed it, sometimes melted into it.

“This is life,” the old teacher was saying.

“How simple it is and how clear,” thought Pierre. “How was it I did not know that before? God is in the midst, and each drop strives to expand, to reflect Him on the largest scale possible. And it grows, and is absorbed and crowded out, and on the surface it disappears, goes back into the depths, and falls not to the surface again. That is how it is with him, with Karataev; he is absorbed and has disappeared.”

“You understand, my child,” said the teacher.

“You understand, damn you!” shouted a voice, and Pierre woke up.n

But beyond ideas, W&P succeeds simply thanks to innumerable memorable images, often mystical or personal moments of sudden unexpected significance confronted with the natural world that opens up to a momentary understanding/insight into the true nature of reality, most famously when Prince Andrei is injured on the battlefield and gawks at the infinite sky, but also when Pierre sees Halley's Comet and briefly gets a sense of our insignificance/significance, or Prince Andrei listens to Natasha talk on the moonlit balcony above him (definitely sketchy that she's 16 and he's like 32 and also has a young son he pretty much totally stays away from -- for all his merits, from a 21st century perspective, Prince Andrei is a crappy dad), or when Pierre rescues the child from the burning building and later sees a man executed and meets the noble savage-like peasant whose every thought and movement is in tune with existence -- or Pierre just after the duel stumbling away in the snow or Nikolai singing with his sister Natasha after he's lost so much gambling, or Nikolai propelled across the battlefield on horseback thanks to the physical memory of wolf hunts and then smashing a young French soldier with his sword, realizing what the hell am I doing?! -- or Petya's death in battle driven toward the fog of war like mosquito toward bug-zapper or Princess Marya dressing in her best bast shoes and peasant gear about to take off as a wandering super-Christian, or Natasha fasting to repent and recover after poisoning herself after the botched elopement, on and on and on.

Ultimately it's the sort of novel you want to list every moment, every insight, to record them for yourself for posterity, so whenever a friendly Goodreads user like yourself reads this and likes this review I'll receive an e-mail and re-read my impressions of my second read over the course of 2.5 months toward the end of 2018 (half of it read in the first two weeks of December when I fully committed mornings, nights, and weekends to reading it and put everything else on hold) and thereby remember so much more, which is really the primary reason I write these little "reviews" after reading, to outsource my memory so it can remember where I put my wallet, glasses, phone, keys.

On third read, I'll look more for instances of necessity, disturbances that arise due to one character's necessity conflicting with another's necessity. I'll keep an eye on some of the secondary historical characters in the war scenes, particularly Kutuzov. I'll also pay more attention to Denisov and Bilibin and people like that. I want to do a better job tracking the transitions between primary characters -- I might even chart it? We shall see. I also want to track the old verities ("love and honor and pity and pride and compassion and sacrifice") mentioned in Faulkner's Nobel Prize speech, which I feel like had this novel in mind.

Anyway, if you haven't read War and Peace, I guess you could say I recommend it.

‎دوستانِ گرانقدر، این رمان آنقدر گنجا میباشد و به درازا کشیده شده است که چکیده نویسی از آن دشوار میباشد... ولی تلاش میکنم تا نکته های مهمی از آن را برایتان بازگو کنم
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‎عزیزانم، یکی از اهدافِ اصلیِ <تولستوی> برایِ نوشتنِ این کتاب، نشان دادنِ نبردِ روس ها در برابرِ فرانسه و ناپلئون در سالِ 1812 و 1813 میلادی میباشد، که به شکست و عقب نشینیِ ناپلئون انجامید.. برتری سربازانِ جان فشانِ روس بر سربازانِ فرانسوی این بود که فرانسوی ها نمیدانستند برایِ چه و برایِ چه کسی میجنگند! و تنها برایِ پیروی از فرمانِ ناپلئون به میدانِ جنگ آمده بودند.. ولی روس ها یکدل شده و با هرچه که داشتند و با جان و دل به مبارزه پرداختند ... این موضوع سبب شد ناپلئون شکست خورده و سربازانش به هر سو پراکنده شوند
‎میتوان گفت این داستان به زندگیِ دو خانوادهٔ اشرافی میپردازد... یکی خانوادهٔ <بولکنسکی> و دیگری خانوادهٔ <رُستف>... که هردو نامدارانِ روسی بودند
‎بولکنسکی مردی هوشیار و خودسر است و دختری به نامِ <ماری> دارد که چهرهٔ زیبایی ندارد، ولی جذابیت هایِ خاصِ خود را داراست... ماری ازدواج کرده و همسرش <نیکلا> با آنکه از خاندانِ اشرافی میباشد، ولی میلی به ثروت ندارد و هرکاری برایِ خوشبختیِ ماری انجام میدهد
‎قهرمانِ رمان، <آندره> نام دارد .. آندره ثروتمند است، ولی همیشه غمگین است و بسیاری از نکاتی که برایِ اشرافی ها مهّم است، برایِ او بی ارزش است... آندره در نبردِ "اوسترلیتز" زخم برداشته و به خانه باز میگردد... پس از چندی همسرش را از دست میدهد و بر غمِ او افزوده میگردد... در این میان، آندره عاشقِ <ناتاشا رُستف> میشود، ولی ناتاشا نسبت به او احساسی نداشته و به مردی خودپسند و خودبین به نامِ <آناتول کوراگین> دل بسته است... همین موضوع سبب میشود تا آندره امیدی به زندگی نداشته باشد.. بنابراین بازهم به میدان نبرد بازگشته و اینبار در نبردِ "واترلو" زخمی میشود و از آن پس بجای آنکه بر روی زمین به دنبالِ عشقِ خویش باشد، در آسمانها به جستجویِ عشقِ موهوم میگردد
‎از سویِ دیگرِ داستان و در خانوادهٔ رُستف، ناتاشا پی به عشقِ بی سرانجامش با آناتول کوراگین برده و روز به روز شور و شادی از او دورتر و دورتر میشود و به اندازه ای افسرده میشود که تصمیم به خودکشی میگیرد... در این میان برادرِ جوانش در نبرد با فرانسوی ها کشته میشود و او تصمیم میگیرد تا آخرِ عمر از مادرش پرستاری کرده و عشق را فراموش کند.... ولی پس از مدتی مردی به نامِ <پی یر بزوخف> دوباره سرزندگی را به ناتاشا بازمیگرداند.. بزوخف مردی مهربان و تنومند است، ولی به دنبالِ آرزوهای پوچ است و واردِ سازمانِ فراماسونری میشود
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‎امیدوارم این ریویو در جهتِ شناختِ این کتاب، کافی و مفید بوده باشه
‎<پیروز باشید و ایرانی>

Notes-

1. The misogyny of some of the characters takes the breath away. Examine this speech of Dolokhov to Rostov, both young officers.

"People consider me a wicked man, I know," he used to say, "and let them. I don't care about anyone except those I love; but those I love, I love so much that I'd give my life for them, and the rest I'd crush if they stood in my way. I have an adored, a priceless mother, two or three friends, you among them, and to the rest I pay attention only insofar as they're useful or harmful. And almost all of them are harmful, especially women. Yes, my dear heart," he went on, "I have met loving, noble, lofty men; but I have never yet met any women who weren't bought — whether countesses or kitchen maids. I have never yet met that heavenly purity and faithfulness that I seek in a woman. If I had ever found such a woman, I would have given my life for her. But these!..." He made a gesture of contempt. “And believe me, if I still value my life, it's only because I still hope to meet the heavenly being who will resurrect, purify, and elevate me. But you don't understand that." (p. 329)

2. Another aspect is the fumbling military battles which are hamstrung by a lack of the simplest communications. They didn’t even have heliographic communication then, which wasn’t used until the late 19th century. So there’s this interminable slogging through the muck — which Norman Mailer brilliantly adapted to his own purposes for The Naked and the Dead.

3. When Tolstoy wrote he was reimagining a time a little more than 50 years in the past: 1805-1812. For us the gap is about 210 years. So it strikes me it’s a little like reading Ibn Battuta or Averroes. If you want an example of skillful characterization, brilliantly patterned, this is your novel. My first reading of War and Peace was of Constance Garnett’s problematic 1904 translation. This second reading is of Richard Pevear & Larissa Volokhonsky’s much improved 2007 translation.

4. After shooting the vile Dolokhov in a duel, and unceremoniously discarding his adulterous wife, Hélène, Count Bezukov (Pierre) is traveling back to Petersburg when he meets a voluble Freemason at the post house — they’re waiting for horses. Pierre until now has been little more than a wastrel. Now he meets the Freemason who knows all about his cuckolding and suggests he mend his ways. The subsequent scene of meeting up with other masons and being inducted into the organization is fascinating.

5. Later at Anna Pavlovna‘s evening, Boris Drubetskoy is the special guess being feted. We last saw him at Austerlitz where he was all boyish sovereign worship who then got himself stupidly wounded, and his horse killed. Now solely due to connections he is a high-level army adjutant to a “very important person.“ And that’s what Anna Pavlovna‘s evening is all about: ambition and social climbing.

6. A worthwhile read even for a non-Christian like me who, nonetheless, has a deep and abiding intellectual interest in religion and spirituality. But some sections are very Christian. You must have some empathy for that side of the story in order for it to be a satisfying read. If you're intolerant of expressions of faith, I think the book might be a bore for you. One has to be somewhat ethnograhical. Tolstoy’s initial audience was largely Russian orthodox, but I think he wrote with something of a desire to needle nonbelievers. In any case the prose remains masterful.

“The wanderer woman calmed down and, urged to go on, spent a long time telling about Father Amphilokhy, whose life was so holy that his dear hand smelled of incense, and about how, during her last pilgrimage to Kiev, some monks she knew gave her the keys to the caves, and how she took some rusks and spent two days in the caves with the saints. ‘I'd pray to one, recite a little, and go to another. I'd doze, go again and kiss the relics; and it was so quiet, dearie, so blissful, that I didn't even feel like going out into God's world.’” (p. 393)

7. On p. 400 now, I look forward to for my favorite part of the novel when General Kutuzov, in response to the French attack that abrogates the Treaty of Tilsit, shouts: “I shall make them eat horse meat.” And he does, too. I was reminded of this great line not long ago while reading Vassily Grossman‘s Life and Fate. Grossman writes a scene in which the Nazi soldiers — surrounded by the Red Army at Stalingrad in 1942 — resort to chopping up frozen horses for food. No question, Grossman, who as a reporter followed the Red Army to Berlin in 1945, was aware of that stunning line and wanted the correspondence in his own later novel.

8. Exult in this passage in which Prince Andrei Bolkhonsky approaches the nubile Natasha Rostov at the Sovereign’s Ball. A waltz is playing.

“Allow me to introduce you to my daughter," the countess said, blushing.

“I have the pleasure of being acquainted, if the countess remembers me,” said Prince Andrei, with a courteous and low bow, totally contradicting Mme Peronsky's remark about his rudeness, going up to Natasha and raising his arm to put it around her waist even before he finished asking her to dance. He suggested a turn of the waltz. That rapt expression of Natasha's face, ready for despair and for ecstasy, suddenly lit up with a happy, grateful, childlike smile. [For she had thought she would be passed over.]

"I've been waiting a long time for you," this frightened and happy girl seemed to say by her smile, shining through ready tears, as she raised her arm to Prince Andrei's shoulder. They were the second couple to enter the circle. Prince Andrei was one of the best dancers of his time. Natasha's dancing was excellent. Her little feet in satin ball slippers did their work quickly, lightly, and independently of herself, and her face shone with the rapture of happiness. Her bared neck and arms were thin and unattractive compared to Hélène's shoulders. Her shoulders were thin, her bosom undefined, her arms slender; but on Hélène there was already a sort of varnish from all the thousands of gazes that had passed over her body, while Natasha looked like a young girl who was bared for the first time and would have been very ashamed of it, if she had not been assured that it had necessarily to be so.” (p. 460)

It’s difficult to get a sense of the whole from this fragment, but the effect is overwhelming for the reader. It does not come as a surprise either when soon after the ball the moody Prince Andrei, recently widowed and grief-stricken, a despair from which he has only just emerged, loses all interest in his elite government job and entertains marrying Natasha.

9. I love this defamiliarized description of an opera during the scene in which the rake Anatole Kuragin, sitting in the orchestra, unconscionably ogles Natalia Rostov in her box.

“In the third act, there was a representation of a palace on stage, in which many candles were burning and paintings were hung, portraying knights with little beards. In front stood, probably, a tsar and tsaritsa. The tsar waved his right arm and, evidently timid, sang something poorly, then sat down on raspberry-colored throne. The girl, who had first been in white, then in light blue, was now dressed in nothing but a shift, with her hair down, and stood by the throne. She sang ruefully about something, addressing the tsaritsa; but the tsar sternly waved his arm, and from the sides came men with bare legs and women with bare legs, and they began dancing all together. Then the violins began to play very shrilly and merrily. One of the girls, with fat bare legs and skinny arms, separated from the others, went into the wings, straightened her bodice, came out to the center and started leaping and rapidly slapping one foot against the other. Everyone in the parterre clapped their hands and shouted bravo. Then one of the men went to the corner. In the orchestra the cymbals and trumpets struck up more loudly, and this one man with bare legs started leaping high in the air and shifting his feet. (This man was Duport, who earned sixty thousand silver roubles for this art.) Everyone in the parterre, in the boxes, and in the gallery started clapping and shouting with all their might, and the man stopped and started smiling and bowing on all sides. Then the other men and women with bare legs danced, then one of the tsars again shouted something to the music, and they all began to sing. But suddenly a storm broke, the orchestra played chromatic scales and diminished seventh chords, and everyone ran and again dragged one of those present into the wings, and the curtain fell.“ (p. 564)

(Book 857 From 1001 books) - ВОИНА И МИР = Voyna i Mir = War and Peace, Leo Tolstoy

War and Peace is a novel by the Russian author Leo Tolstoy, which is regarded as a central work of world literature and one of Tolstoy's finest literary achievements.

The novel begins in July 1805 in Saint Petersburg, at a soirée given by Anna Pavlovna Scherer—the maid of honour and confidante to the dowager Empress Maria Feodorovna.

Many of the main characters are introduced as they enter the salon.

Pierre (Pyotr Kirilovich) Bezukhov is the illegitimate son of a wealthy count, who is dying after a series of strokes.

Pierre is about to become embroiled in a struggle for his inheritance. Educated abroad at his father's expense following his mother's death, Pierre is kindhearted but socially awkward, and finds it difficult to integrate into Petersburg society. It is known to everyone at the soiree that Pierre is his father's favorite of all the old count's illegitimate progeny. ...

جنگ و صلح - لئو ن. تولستوی (نیلوفر) ادبیات روسیه؛ تاریخ نخستین خوانش: در سال 1978میلادی

عنوان: جنگ و صلح ؛ نویسنده: ل. (لی یف) ن. (نیکالایویچ) تولستوی؛ مترجم: کاظم انصاری؛ تهران، صفیعلیشاه، 1334، در چهار جلد؛ موضوع داستانهای نویسندگان روسیه - سده 19م

مترجمین دیگر این اثر: بانوان محترم: «شهلا انسانی»؛ و «سوسن اردکانی»؛ و آقایان جنابان: «سروش حبیبی»؛ «مصطفی جمشیدی»؛ «داریوش شاهین» و «مصباح خسروی»؛ و ...؛ هستند

ادعای مورخی که میگوید: «ناپلئون»، به این جهت به «مسکو» رفت، که خواهان آن عمل بود، و به این جهت سقوط کرد، که «الکساندر»، آرزوی سقوط و نابودی او را داشت؛ همانند ادعای کسی است، که واژگون شدن کوه چند هزار خرواری را، که زیرش خالی شده، نتیجه ی آخرین ضربت کلنگ یک کارگر بداند؛ هم درست و هم نادرست است؛ در رخدادهای تاریخی، مردان به اصطلاح بزرگ، تنها برچسبهایی هستند، که برای نامیدن رخدادها، به کار میروند، و همانند برچسبها، کمتر از هر چیز، با خود آن رخداد، ارتباط دارند؛ پایان نقل از ص 675، لئو تولستوی

این اثر و چند کتاب پربرگ دیگر را در روزهای تعطیلات عید نوروز سال 1356هجری خورشیدی خواندم؛ برای دیدار خانواده، که در «تبریز» بودند، بهانه آوردم، و نرفتم، ترک عادت کردم؛ مجرد بودم، دوستان هم به سفر نوروزی رفته بودند، چند کیلو ماهی «ساردین از میدان (بیست و چهار اسفند یا انقلاب امروزی)» خریدم، خانه ام در «میرداماد»، در خیابان «اطلسی» بود، ماهیها را سرخ کردم، تا برای ناهار و شام و صبحانه، وقت تلف نکنم، تند و تند این دو مجلد، و چند جلد کتاب پربرگ دیگر را، در آن یکهفته خواندم؛ اما عنوان آن کتابهای دیگر یادم نمانده است؛

تولستوی، کتاب «جنگ و صلح» را در سال 1869میلادی نوشتند؛ این کتاب یکی از بزرگوار‌ترین آثار ادبیات «روسیه» و از مهم‌ترین رمان‌های ادبیات جهان به شمار می‌رود؛ در این رمان طولانی، بیش از پانصد و هشتاد شخصیت، با وسواس ستوده شده ‌اند، و یکی از باارزشترین منابع پژوهش و بررسی، در تاریخ سیاسی و اجتماعی سده نوزدهم میلادی امپراتوری «روسیه» است، که به شرح پایداری «روس»‌ها، در برابر یورش ارتش «فرانسه» به رهبری «ناپلئون بناپارت» می‌پردازد؛ ناقدان آثار ادبی، آن را یکی از بزرگ‌ترین رمان‌های جهان نیز می‌دانند؛ این رمان، «زندگی اجتماعی» و سرگذشت پنج خانواده اشرافی «روس» را، در دوران جنگ‌های «روسیه و فرانسه» در سال‌های 1805میلادی تا 1814میلادی به تصویر می‌کشد؛

مهم‌ترین شخصیت‌های این حماسه ی بزرگ: «شاهزاده آندرِی بالکونسکی»، «کنت پیر بزوخوف»، «شاهزاده ناتاشا روستوا»، «شاهزاده ماریا بالکونسکایا»، «شاهزاده نیکولا روستوف»، «دولوخوف»، «واسکا دنیسف»، «پرنس واسیلی کوارگین»، «الن کوارگین»، «آناتول کوارگین»، «پتیا رستف»، «ورا رستف»، «سونیا رستف»، «کنت ایلیا رستف»، «کنتس رستفوا»، «لیزا بالکونسکایا»، «نیکولانکیا بالکونسکی»؛ و «پرنسس آنا دروبت سوکایا»؛ و ...؛ هستند

تاریخ بهنگام رسانی 31/05/1399هجری خورشیدی؛ 12/05/1400هجری خورشیدی؛ ا. شربیانی

Why did I decide to read War and Peace? Because happiness lies in struggling well and having faith that struggle is a worthy one. War and Peace was my way of engaging in a meaningful literary struggle. The main purpose was to mend something broken in my heart – to make myself more long-suffering and to give myself a wider view of the world. If the book helped me do that, and I believe it did, then it was worth the time and effort that I put into reading it.

What can I say about this book that hasn’t been said in so many other reviews? Probably nothing. But, I will mention the things that standout to me now.

There is a lifetime of experiences contained in this one book. The book is not afraid to grapple with big, broad questions regarding life, death, war, peace, religion, family, and meaning. Through the character of Pierre we get deep, melancholy reflections about the meaning of existence.

In the middle sections, when we are given reprieve from the epic battle scenes, I found myself completely engrossed in the everyday life, arguments, struggles, and happenings of the Rostov family. I loved little moments when the family would delight in little traditions and find deeper meaning in the symbols and pageantry they had created together. For a moment, I found myself a member of that same family.

When I had reached the end of the book, I felt like I had lived several lifetimes over. I had seen youth, love, war, family life, death, renewal. Throughout these many experiences I also saw how difficult it is to explain the varied phenomena that make up life. There really is no other alternative than to live it…and that’s what this book makes you do. It makes you live each moment. It makes you suffer, feel joy and despair. In short, this book tries to capture the human experience.

I started reading this book in the 40th year of my life…that seems about right…a kind of mid-life crisis, or a kind of settling into my gray hairs…either way, it’s a beautiful way to move from 40 to 41 with class and style. If I am a classier gentleman these days, I have Leo Tolstoy to thank for that.
Where will the novel go from here?

Hard to say, but if it keeps me away from the news and social media for a little -- the enemies of mental health -- then "War and Peace" will be a book worth reading!

So...perhaps life isn't too short to read "War and Peace".

“Pierre was right when he said that one must believe in the possibility of happiness in order to be happy, and I now believe in it. Let the dead bury the dead, but while I'm alive, I must live and be happy.”



I don't know why I didn't especially enjoy Leo Tolstoy's War and Peace the last time I read it. This time, however, I felt like I connected with it and at least some of the primary characters. And I even appreciated how Tolstoy went from writing a history of the Napoleonic Wars and its impact in Russia to philosophy to his own narrative. I especially liked the scenes set in a Moscow that has been abandoned to the enemy, both from the viewpoint of characters as well as Tolstoy's own interpretation of historical accounts. Besides the rating, what changed? I guess I did because it's the same War and Peace I read while traveling through Africa a few decades ago. But a book is never really the same book when you read it again. 4.25 stars

رواية الحرب والسلم ـ ليو تولستوي

أخيراً انتهيت من قراءة هذه الملحمة التاريخية التي كتبها الرائع تولستوي، تستحق الجهد والوقت الذي أمضيتهُ لعدّة أسابيع كي أتمم قراءتها. بالرغم من اصابتي بالخيبة من الترجمة والطباعة الإملائية المُربكة في بعض الأحيان إلّا أنّ الرواية في العموم تستحق الإشادة بها وانصح بقراءتها.

اقتباسات من الرواية:

ما الشرَّ؟ وما الخير؟ وماذا يجب على المرء أن يُحبَّ أو أن يكره؟ ولماذا يعيش المرء؟ وما الحياة وما الموت؟ ما هي القوة التي تحكم كلَّ هذا وتُسيّره؟

إننا لا نعرفُ شيئاً … فتلك هي ذُروَةُ المعرِفة البشرية.


أحرص على نفسِكَ كلَّ الحِرص، واحتط لها كلَّ الحيطة … وعليك أن تكبح جماح حواسِك، وتطلب البركة والنعمة - ليس في الشهوات، وإنَّما في قلبِك داخِلَ نفسِك. فمصدرُ النعمة يكمنُ في داخلنا، وليس في خارجنا.

الحِكمة لا تحتاج إلى العُنف مُطلقًا.

إنَّ النجاة لا تكون إلّا في الموت، فهو السكينة والهدوء … ولا يكون الملاذ من آلام الحياة ومصاعبها إلَّا في الرَّدى.

أفضل طريقة لجعل الناس يطيعونك، هي أن لا تضع طاعتهم موضع الشكَّ.

إن الصَّعب هو ربح المعركة. ومن أجل ذلك، لا حاجة قَطَّ إلى الهجوم، ولا إلى إحتلال ما يتمَّ حصاره. بل إنَّ الصبر والوقت، هما كلَّ ما يلزم لِمِثلِ هذه القضايا.

ليس هناك ما يُساوي هذين الجُنديَيْن: الصَّبر والوقت! إنهما يستطيعان أن يُحّققا كلَّ شيئ. لكنَّ الناصحين لا يتقبلون هذا الرأي.

مع الوقت والصبر … سيموت هذا الوحش … لندع نابليون يتوغَّل أكثر داخل الأراضي الروسية! وليأخذ موسكو نفسها! فخسارة موسكو، لا يعني خسارة روسيا!.

إنَّ تحركات الجيش على مسافة قريبة من العدو، هو أمرٌ بالغ الخطورة، ويحمل نوعاً من المُجازفة الكبرى، وهناك الكثير من الأمثلة في التاريخ العسكري تُثبت هذه النظرية.

إنَّ رجلاً واحداً، مهما كانت قوته وعلمه، لن يتمكن من توجيه مئات الآلاف من الرجال الذين يواجهون الموت.

أن مصير المعركة، لا يتحدّد ببضعة أوامر يصدرها القائد، ولا في المواقع التي يتمترس فيها الجنود، ولا في عدد القتلى، بل بتلك القوة الغير ملموسة، والتي تُسمَّى بروح الجيش.

A Review in Three Parts:

n  I. The Analytical Analysisn





n  II. The Reviewn

Here's the thing that surprised me the most about War & Peace: it's extremely readable. It's not filled with difficult or outdated language. (At least in the P&V translation.) It doesn't have long, hard to parse sentences. The action and dialogue is fairly straight-forward. The characters become easy to follow. If you are freaked out by War & Peace because you think it's hard, it's not. Although you will have to power though the utterly dull and overly-populated intro party scene. Gah.

However, War & Peace is filled with endless diversions, especially history primers and theological discussions of death and minutia of battles. Tolstoy goes off on tangents, and it can take a while to get back to the story. I know some people love those tangents - I didn't. Tolstoy failed to reel me in, and make me care about the logistics of war, or his philosophies of physics in the social sciences.

One quick note on the P&V translation - they left in the original French and German with translations in footnotes/endnotes. I found their annotation style to be clunky at best. In retrospect, I would have chosen the Briggs translation, even though it's not available in ebook format.

What's sad is that for the first half of the book, I read slowly, deliberately, and researched stuff outside of the book. I wanted War & Peace to be a rich experience. I was reading this with quite a few people in a group, and thought I could really appreciate why people call this The Great Novel Evar! But after 650-odd pages and 6 weeks, I still wasn't engaged with the characters, the story, or the history. So I started to read faster just to get through it.

I'm not saying it's a horrible book, though. The characters are well defined, and they grow and change over the years of war, struggle and collective bourgeoisie. Quite a few people in the group read-along fell in love with some of the major protagonists. Certainly for me the "home-front" story was more compelling than any other aspect of the story.

Here's one way I can tell whether a book is rising above an average read for me. Do I think about the characters, the story, or the issues outside of reading the book? For War & Peace, except for our group discussions, this was a resounding No. Discussions of ladies' facial hair was the most thrilling aspect.

I had a hard time getting War & Peace to rise about a "meh" for me, even considering it's proper historical literary provenance.

n  III. Some Russian* Things I Learnedn

samovar:

troika:

droshky:

knout:

britzka:

shako:

chibouk:

papakha:

*Not all of these things are Russian. But they are in War & Peace.

Finally finished!!! It only took me a year! I plan to post a review though no review will give this extraordinary book justice as the remarkable aspect of it is in the experience of reading it!

I am sitting here, staring at the blank word document, and I’m really having a “look at me” moment with myself. Ugh, it’s so hard to write something about War and Peace. I’m huffing and puffing, getting up, pacing a bit, trying to get the creative juices flowing. Then a single thought comes to my head: “Imagine having had to write it buddy.” Fair enough, random voice. Fair enough. You know why? Because I cannot imagine writing something like this.

We can quickly get the disclaimer about the length out of the way. My edition was just over 1200 pages. I quickly realized that this was not a Dumas 1200-page affair, oh no. This was more Melville. That means you need to fasten your seatbelt, because it will be a bumpy ride as Tolstoy zooms in and out, alternating between the micro and the macro at will. You have chapters that are so unbelievably detailed in their description of battle tactics and the philosophy of war that they resemble the “Cetology” chapter of Moby-Dick. These are the chapters that come complete with a gold medal at the end if you manage to finish them while in bed. When you zoom out, you have chapters that concern themselves with the topics that only “Great Works” do expertly – the condition of humanity, the arbitrariness of war, the meaning of loyalty to a cause, the existence of free will, the merit (and illusion) of leadership, the dubious concept of genius, etc. When you juxtapose endless short chapters of this type, alternating between big and small, spread them across many parts and 4 volumes, you will have people buying this book and putting it on the shelf without reading it. I get it. At times, it is absolutely stop-start. This can make it a jarring experience. However, I personally think it’s worth it.

Then there are the characters. How comfortable are you with Russian names? If very, then cool. Move on. If not? Get some sticky flags to mark the “Principal Characters” page that comes with your copy. Oh god, I hope your copy comes with this page. If not? Best of luck, try to find a list online. I am being slightly facetious, of course, but only slightly. Once you get into the flow of things, you develop a compassionate understanding of the charms and foibles of each character. They become old friends and foes – you get to know their presence before they speak. But seeing as you will probably not be finishing this in 3-4 days, you will be forgiven if you confuse the multiple characters and their host of first names, family names, patronymics, and nicknames. At your disposal, you have a host of characters to whom you can get attached. I chose Pierre. You can choose Natasha, Andrei, Sonya, Nikolai, or honestly anyone else. Seriously. You can pick Napoleon for all I care. All valid choices.

From the very first pages, I decided to take notes in a separate notebook, noting the page number for things that stood out to me. I filled out several pages of the notebook, and I would love to go over some of the beauties of this book, if only for me to come back to in several years and see where my mind was at when I finished this:

1) Hemingway talks about Tolstoy’s deep knowledge of a battlefield. This knowledge, he says, puts to shame all other authors who write warfare as if they are describing a painting. The troops line up, “do war”, so to speak, and each side yields thousands of poor, dead souls. This is not what you get with Tolstoy. The host of psyches at play on the battlefield leave you at a loss for words. Different players in the scene are deep in thought, as you would be before (possibly) the end of your life. Thoughts of glory are abundant – originating from experience in battle or from sheer naivete. Courage is shown, whether through the acknowledgment of fear and a quiet resolve to bear it, or through sheer stupidity. Clearly, the “bit players”, the ones who are actually doing the killing and dying in real time, are not always synced up with the thoughts of the commanders and sovereigns. Why are the French fighting the Russians? Is it because Napoleon was offended by a perceived slight, or because a lowly soldier is wanting to be noticed by Alexander I? Heartbreaking to think about. I mentioned paintings, and this particular one by Louis-François Lejeune shows the Battle of Borodino – potentially the bloodiest of the Napoleonic Wars.



Definitely one of the highlights of the book.

2) The characters are often more real in their sum than most “real” people that I know – they show the best and worst sides of humanity when put together and looked at after the book is done. The volatility of human decisions and the inertia that results from them – unbelievable. A character may decide in a moment that he will marry a girl, and that is that. He didn’t even mean it, really. He was forced to do something by the pressure of the situation (there is the concept of free will again, one that Tolstoy plays with over and over throughout the text) and now he is stuck for years on end, dealing with the consequences of his decision. Snapshot decision after snapshot decision. Someone dives into Freemasonry, another decides that he is done with Napoleon forever, a look, a dress, a sight, a smell is enough to cause the most passionate of loves – do these not signify that the darker side of snapshot decisions are also just as arbitrary? Invade Russia, kill the young soldiers, take this route, burn that bridge... for what? The arbitrary nature of the shifting of our beliefs is highlighted, being contrasted with deeply existential convictions and realizations.

3) Tolstoy displays a superb mastery over his universe. I personally am guilty of using the “diving in” metaphor quite often, but it does feel like an ocean with Tolstoy as the almighty creator. Nothing that a character does (and as I mentioned, there are quite a few of them) is out of place. Nothing is unrealistic. Does it help that he is writing “historical fiction”? To an extent, sure, but I believe that dismissing his craft due to this fact is a blunder. Writing something of this scope and keeping everything in check... phew. Control is the name of the game.

4) Finally (well, not final in my notes, but I don’t want to ramble on forever), a quick glance back at the length. The length in itself, I believe, is helpful. I don’t know how much of it was intentional, because it seems as though Tolstoy had designs to write something much shorter and much more concise about the Decembrist movement in Russia – and he may have gotten carried away, going back further and further until the very first hints of Napoleon’s antagonistic nature with regards to Russia. Either way, throughout the journey that this absolute brick of a book provides, we get an even more nuanced picture of human truths and relativity. Those same charms and foibles that I referred to about the characters repeat themselves in predictable cycles – 1200 pages is enough real estate to allow you to do that as an author. These charms and foibles quickly became either the deepest virtues or the most raging flaws, when spread across time and space. Just another point for the rich cast.

Happy I finished this one. To end it off, I will swerve hard onto the road of cliché without even signaling by putting in one of the most overused (but still true) quotes of all time by Isaac Babel:

n  

“If the world could write itself, it would write like Tolstoy.”

n

Amen.

چقدر حرف که راجع به تولستوی می شه زد. موندم که از کدوم بگم.

تولستوی و روسو
در سال های بعد از انقلاب صنعتی، شهرها ناگهان گسترش پیدا کردن و شیوه ی زندگی جدیدی ایجاد شد. زندگی در فضای بسته ی شهرها و نظم ساعت وار کارخانه ها، تنگی معیشت طبقات فرودست و بی معنایی زندگی اشراف. همه ی این ها و علل فراوان دیگه، دست به دست هم داد تا به اعتراض گسترده ای علیه این حکومت عقل حسابگر شکل گرفت، به نام نهضت "رمانتی سیسم". بیشتر این معترضان، هنرمندها بودن، ولی گهگاه بینشون متفکرهایی هم دیده می شد، از جمله "ژان ژاک روسو".
از نظریات سیاسی روسو که بگذریم (که منجر به تشکیل حکومت هایی مثل هیتلر شد) در نظریات اجتماعی، روسو می گه: انسان تا وقتی که باقی بر طبیعت دست نخورده ش باشه، تا وقتی که احساسات و غرایزش تحت سلطه ی عقل در نیومده باشن، پاک و شریفه. این تمدن و قانون و عقله که انسان رو تبدیل به موجودی بی عاطفه و پلید و گاه جنایت کار می کنه.
من نمی دونم که آیا تولستوی مستقیماً از روسو تأثیر گرفته یا نه، ولی حرف هاش تا حد زیادی، مشابه حرف های رمانتیک هاست: این که انسان فقط در یه زندگی ساده، با زیبایی های ساده و محبت های ساده می تونه خوشبخت بشه. نه در زندگی پر پیچ و خم شهری امروزی.
هر چند، به شیوه ی رمانتیک ها آزادی بی حد و حصر غرایز رو طلب نمی کنه. برای مثال می شه مقایسه ش کرد با نیچه که یکی دیگه از بزرگان رمانتیک هاست.

تولستوی و تولستوی!
خیلی جالبه که تولستوی خودش رو تکرار می کنه. یعنی یه تصویر آرمانی رو در چند رمانش با کمی تفاوت میاره. البته این تصویر این قدر شیرین و دلچسبه، که آدم خسته نمی شه ازش. من دو تا از این شباهت های تولستویِ جنگ و صلح و تولستویِ آنا کارنینا رو که به ذهنم رسید نوشتم:

شخصیت لوین و کنت بزوخوف: هر دو شخصیت های خجالتی و ساده دل و پاک و مهربان، و هر دو به شکلی سرگشته و به دنبال جواب.
شخصیت ناتاشا و یکاترینا: هر دو دختران نوجوان پر شور و مهربان، که ابتدا جای نادرستی دنبال عشق می گردن (یکاترینا در ورونسکی و ناتاشا در جوان هرزه ای که می خواست باهاش فرار کنه) اما در نهایت جذب پاکی و مهربانی دو شخصیت فوق (لوین و بزوخوف) می شن و با ازدواج با اون ها به خوشبختی می رسن.
با توجه به تکرار وضعیتی کمابیش مشابه در رمان "رستاخیز"، انگار این، تصویر ایده آل تولستوی از یک زوج خوشبخت بوده: مردی ساده دل و زنی پر شور. یا به عبارت دیگه: مردی درونگرا (که احتمالاً تصویری از خود تولستوی درونگراست) و زنی برونگرا (که احتمالاً زن رؤیاهاش بوده).