Background
to the post (and to the blog as a whole): I’m reading Anna Karenina, the horrifically long but very good novel by Leo
Tolstoy. The book focuses mainly on two storylines; that of the adulteress Anna, her husband
Alexei Karenin, and her lover Alexei Vronsky, and that of Konstantin Levin, an awkward, reclusive landowner, and
in the second half of the novel his wife Kitty. These intertwine throughout the novel, and in very interesting ways.
Tolstoy’s
style in the novel is pretty simple; he loves detail. If there’s one complaint
I have about the book, it’s that he REALLY needed a good editor. As much as I
enjoy the descriptive style and the insight into the lives of Russia’s upper
classes in the 19th century, I don’t like having to read 15-20 pages
about hunting snipe if there’s no apparent point to it. So far in the novel,
I’ve noticed an interesting phenomenon. There are plenty of parts with great
character development and plot, but a few times Tolstoy seems to forget his
audience and go into a rant about something that interests him (and, as it feels to the reader, ONLY him). For example,
one of the most difficult sections of the novel was a 50 page or so stretch
that consists almost entirely of Levin’s thoughts on Russian agricultural
philosophy. It gives the reader some
insight into his character, but it’s clearly excessive and doesn’t contribute
to the plot.
I
have also noticed that the narration seems very objective. This is consistent
with many other 19th century novels, but it especially stands out in
Anna Karenina. The point of view,
again consistent with the time, is third person. Even in the parts where one
would expect to see emotion in the writing—for example, in Anna’s intense inner
debate whether to keep her status in society and stay with her husband or to
become an outcast and live with her lover—the emotion seems to stay completely
contained within the character. I think this is mostly as a result of the
stiff, formal language, which is alien to the modern reader. To give you an
idea: Vronsky and Anna are living together, but they are having problems in
their relationship. It is clearly a difficult and strongly emotional situation,
but as Tolstoy writes it,
“Vronsky experienced for the first
time a feeling of vexation, almost of anger, with Anna for her deliberate
refusal to understand her position. This feeling was intensified by his being
unable to explain to her the cause of his vexation. If he had told her directly
what he thought, he would have said: ‘To appear in the theatre in that attire
and with that notorious princess is not only to acknowledge your position as a
ruined woman but also to throw down a challenge to society—that is, to renounce
it for ever’ ” (543).
This is obviously a product of the
time it was written, but unfortunately, I think this limits the extent to which
the modern reader is able to engage with the text and to identify with or feel for the
characters.
My
last comment is on another phenomenon I’ve noticed. Tolstoy writes very
bluntly, despite the flowery language. He will just say his ideas straight out.
With this come some strange similes, which, though they make sense, just sound
weird. For example:
“A man can spend several hours
sitting cross-legged in the same position if he knows that nothing prevents him
from changing it; but if he knows that he has to sit with his legs crossed like
that, he will get cramps, his legs will twitch and strain towards where he
would like to stretch them. That was what Vronsky felt with regard to society”
(528).
See?
You get what he’s trying to say, but it just sounds like something no one would
actually say in real life. This happens several times throughout the novel, and
I find it interesting.
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