This past week, I finished reading Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy for the first time. As my mind drifted between each of the character’s stories, I could not seem to focus my thoughts. In one sense, I would have liked to read the novel for a class where I would learn insights from a professor and peers. However, reading this novel without direction allowed me the flexibility to think freely and simply. As a result, here I will follow one of my train of thoughts when working through Tolstoy’s famous novel.
I could not help but think of Virginia Woolf while reading Anna Karenina, and her expression of what it is to be human. I remember quotes from Woolf’s diaries when she would reach a block in her own writing and pick up Gogol or Tolstoy to reset her mind. From an entry in March of 1940, Woolf writes that, while reading Tolstoy over breakfast, it was “always the same reality—like touching an exposed electric wire” (317).
When reading Tolstoy, I was struck by the following quote on page 232 of the novel:
Strangely, however, despite having prepared herself not to submit to her father’s opinion, not to let him into her sanctuary, she felt that the divine image of Mme Stahl that she had carried in her soul for a whole month had vanished irretrievably, as the figure made by a flung-off dress vanishes once you see how the dress is lying.
This quote recalled the conversation I started in a previous post on Woolf’s work where I explored the effect of the negative and positive space on the objects that humans occupy. In that case, I was looking at clothing, specifically Mrs. Ramsay’s. However, I was struck by Kitty’s train of thought that felt so distinctly human. Nonetheless, I will get to this thought in a moment.
Returning to our friend Woolf, Tolstoy’s simile “as the figure made by a flung-off dress vanishes once you see how the dress is lying” is akin to the shape of Mrs. Ramsay’s glove. Yet, for Tolstoy, the disappearance of the figure takes the life or “soul” out of the garment, whereas Woolf appears to show how life can remain in these negative spaces. Do we need humans to animate the inanimate? Yes and no. For Tolstoy, I would argue that it is a yes. Once one sees the dress is flat and lying down instead of animated, it is no longer alive. This interpretation is different from Woolf who appears to portray lasting human influence through these no-longer-animated negative spaces. However, this is a small point and not the focus of this post.
On another note, the experience of reading Anna Karenina, for me, exposed a whole world of human thought and how it can be expressed in writing. Woolf explained that Tolstoy had “genius in the raw” expressed through his “rugged short cut mind” (317). “Raw,” “rugged” and arguably “short” (I can’t help but laugh knowing that Woolf meant his shortness in character thought processes but certainly not length of his novels) ring true when describing Tolstoy’s novel. I felt as though another world of writing had been unlocked—the expression of human nature through creative reflection. I was continually struck by a character’s change in mood from one sentence to the next, and the way Tolstoy would layer feelings to express how one can feel both happy and angry and sad all at once.
Though there are numerous examples of these complex human thought processes throughout the novel, I find myself drawn to the interactions between Kitty and Levin. An excerpt in Part Five Section 15 (pages 483-486) of the novel depicts Kitty and Levin sitting in a study. The couple is happy to be in the country after their time in Moscow, Kitty is wearing a special lilac dress, and they are enjoying each other’s company. However, that is not the only feelings surging through the couple in a mere three pages. Levin is both overwhelmed by his happy marriage, feeling his work on his book as insignificant— “he now felt that the centre of gravity of his attention had shifted elsewhere” (483). At the same time, his work grounds him in a reality, so he does not become lost in his marital bliss. Before, his work was necessary as an escape from his “bleak life” and now it is still an escape, but from happiness. This overwhelming need for balance exposes not only a human tendency for stability but also a natural inclination for homeostasis in one’s life.
Tolstoy then shifts to the inside of Kitty’s mind, who is thinking how her husband must have been jealous of prince Charsky. She does not want to distract him from his work, but also feels he has other time to do it and wants him to look at her. They are brought together as Levin can feel her gaze and returns it, resolving her telepathic request. He asks about her thoughts, and she begins to speak but feels she is distracting him. He insists that she is not, and they speak and become close. When they are called to tea, Levin is happy and smiles at the things his wife has bought for him—a washstand, accessories—but also feels “shameful, pampered, Capuan” (485). Then he thinks that he has not done enough work in the past three months and had spent his time “idly and uselessly” (485). Yet, moments ago, he had insisted on hearing his wife’s thoughts and did not seem to care about his work getting done. He could not reproach her, but he also felt that someone had to be blamed. All these emotions and actions surged through these characters in a few pages and left me wondering if their relationship was truly happy. However, the fact that their flaws and shortcomings were acknowledged by themselves and each other seemed to expose the necessity that they entertain these thoughts fully to act appropriately. Tolstoy’s ability to develop these thoughts and lean into the “shortness” of one’s mind demonstrates human nature in a unique and cutting way.
Tolstoy approaches the expression of human nature is, quite literally, through expressions. I was amazed how characters in the novel were often described as having an unreadable or fearful or happy expressions and how that impacted the character themselves and the person with whom they were interacting. The intimacy between characters seemed to grow based on their ability to accurately understand the other’s expression, whereas a failure created distance between them. An expression can define relationships while doing characterization work—a handy writing tool indeed! The abrupt and fleeting nature of a person’s expression aligns well with Tolstoy’s “raw” writing style in a way that masterfully shows human nature and the sometimes-uncontrollable element of one’s face in creating feeling.
The fluid nature of human thought and expressions in Tolstoy’s writing caused me to reflect on my own thought processes, especially in the context of relationships. Have you ever felt one moment that you love and care about someone and enjoy their presence to wanting complete isolation from everyone? Have you ever felt one way in one moment—satisfied and happy—and then another way in next moment—angry, confused, conflicted?
Here I might introduce a modern replacement scenario. (I will need you to imagine here some things you may have never felt in that specific context. If it is helpful replace this scenario with a setting where you feel happy and calm). Imagine you are walking in the woods with your dog. There is a nice breeze in the 75-degree air, and your dog is walking next to you without any fuss. He shoves his face into your hand, and you laugh, scratching his nose. You are thinking about what route you will take, and what you need to do the rest of the day. You remember that you are out of butter and will have to stop at the grocery store, but it’s on the way home from the park, so you are happy you remembered. An alert pops up on your phone that a job listing you saved needs an application by the end of the day. A little knot twists in your stomach at the thought of writing another cover letter, but your dog runs to chase a squirrel, so you start to worry that he will run into the road, and you call him. When he comes back, you are calm, but then remember the job posting and resolve that it will only take a moment when you get home. Then you remember that your friend is coming over that night, and you both had planned on having some wine and watching a movie. You have not seen her in a few weeks, so you are excited. You think about the time when you both spent the day at the beach reading and talking and how you felt completely at ease. Then you remember that you need to vacuum because the dog fur had gotten out of hand. Your phone beeps and you ignore it for a moment before deciding that it could be an emergency, so you check it and it’s your friend explaining that they can’t make it tonight after all because they are not feeling well. You feel irritated because you had wanted to see them and bought a nice bottle of wine. The past few weeks have been busy picking up extra shifts at the restaurant, so you have not spent time with anyone but your mom and your dog. You are mad at your friend for bailing but know that it’s not their fault, so you send a text wishing that they feel better soon. You are nearing the end of your walk, and your dog is tired and needs help getting into the car. He slobbers on your shorts, and you get annoyed but know that it was your own fault for not wiping his face first. You remember that you must stop at the grocery store and that you have to be quick, so your dog is not sitting in a hot car, and you are mad that you forgot to go yesterday. Then you remember that when you get home, you must write a cover letter, and you start to drag your feet walking to the driver’s seat and feel that the rest of the day is no longer exciting but draining.
Loosely based on the thoughts that run through my mind daily, I think it’s interesting to go back through my thoughts and the way I thought them. This experience of reading Tolstoy and engaging more presently with my own mind has revealed my human tendency to think and overthink. We cannot escape our own thoughts at times, so, when reading Tolstoy, I was struck by the fluid way in which he integrates character thought processes into their actions and reactions. The candor and abruptness of his writing combined with the detail and precision of each character exposes the “realness” in Tolstoy’s voice, or, “rawness” as Woolf might say.
How can we integrate this “rawness” in modern writing? We are focused on editing and refining thoughts, expressing feelings through the subtle use of emphasis or a metaphor. Yet, some of human experience can only be expressed by getting into a characters’ mind, exploring what they are thinking and how. I’m sure I will have more to say about Tolstoy, as I let the novel marinate longer in my mind and thoughts!
Julia DeLuca 