Thoughts on Tolstoy's War and Peace, Parts V-X

 

Okay, so if you have made it this far on my series on War and Peace, thanks for reading. Make sure you check out the last post here. So if you saw that post you noticed that although the book has many characters in it, I focused mostly on Pierre and Prince Andrey. 

Pierre goes on a hunt for spiritual enlightenment by joining the Freemasons. Andrey recovers from a near fatal wound from an army battle, only to come home and have his wife die from childbirth, the child Nikolai survives but Andrey feels bad that he didn't treat his wife better. 

Pierre's wife, who Pierre had a falling out with because he believed she was cheating on him, begs Pierre to take her back, and Pierre, urged by the Freemasons' laws of forgiveness, decides to take her back. 

Natasha, the Countess of the Rostov family, is engaged with Prince Andrey. However, she meets a new man, named Anatole who seamlessly gets her to fall in love with him, and him with her. Faced with new feelings of loving a different man other than Prince Andrey, she inevitably breaks off the marriage with Andrey, which was scheduled to go on. This entire section devoted to Natasha, her falling in, and consequently out of love is such a heartbreaking part of this book. Because when you see that she could have been happy if not for wanting more, wanting what she couldn't have, you see how capricious love really can be sometimes. What is also interesting is that Pierre realizes he's in love with Natasha. And Prince Andrey coldly accepts Natasha's break off of the engagement, but he doesn't wish to ever see her again. 

Meanwhile, the whole of Russia is fighting Napoleon's army. Napoleon is characterized by Tolstoy as a charismatic man, even a good man, although he has his moments of arrogance. At times he sounds like a guy who loves the sound of his own voice. But at other times, he's sympathetic, caring, charismatic, powerful, well spoken, the very best of the best qualities that leaders and generals all share. Napoleon is a man who has many virtues according to this description in the book. 

Alright, so all these things are happening right after the next. But it is also at the end of this section [or near it at least], where the rest of War and Peace becomes a reading difficulty, the strain on you from reading the book becomes much more intensified, there's a degree of heaviness that bears upon the soul. Because of that this is probably one of the most difficult, most intense books I have ever read, maybe will ever read, who knows. 

Because you see that Tolstoy puts every emotion: joy, surprise, fear, disgust, anger, contempt, and sadness, and all the variations on and between them. This is what is meant by the fact that the second part of War and Peace [this part and onward to the end] becomes less a literary novel and more a grand philosophical design. "Tolstoy wrote in a letter to Afanasy Fet that what he has written in War and Peace is also said by Schopenhauer in The World as Will and Representation. However, Tolstoy approaches it from the other side." [wiki]

"Tolstoy said War and Peace is "not a novel, even less is it a poem, and still less a historical chronicle." Large sections, especially the later chapters, are philosophical discussions rather than narrative. Tolstoy also said that the best Russian literature does not conform to standards and hence hesitated to call War and Peace a novel. Instead, he regarded Anna Karenina as his first true novel." [wiki]

So when Tolstoy puts these aristocrat characters in these very personal, intense situations, and then he goes into every detail of their lives in a grand philosophical way, you get to experience philosophy in a much more literal literary form. It's been simplified of course so that we can experience it more from our hearts rather than just from our heads. This is important to note because I think this is what is meant by the fact that Tolstoy says the same thing as Schopenhauer in his The World as Will and Representation, but "from the other side," the other side could perhaps be the heart rather than the head [or brain]. I've also seen this particular comparison in Fritz Lang's Metropolis [the mediator between, the heart and the brain]. 

The book has become immensely more difficult but I plan to be done with the novel perhaps by early next week, perhaps earlier. At this point its not about how long it takes to read 1200 pages, rather it is about all the thinking that takes place when one reads something like this. You'll be thinking a lot. Nonstop, in fact, it seems. 

Thoughts on Tolstoy's War and Peace, Parts I-V

 
So I'm reading War and Peace by Tolstoy for the first time. I figured I would do a writing exercise where I lay out my thoughts on what I've read so far and use it as further analysis for when I finish the book and inevitably write more about it. Because the book is some 1200 pages, I thought breaking it down into parts might be easier to read and understand, mostly for myself, but also for the readers. So without further adieu, here are my thoughts on War Peace Parts I-V, approximately from page 1 to 400, about 1/3 of the book. This will read like a reaction review.

For starters, this book is amazing. The beginning is quite complicated because Tolstoy introduces many characters at once, everybody is chatty, and many characters are introduced right after the other. What you get is that there are about 3 or 4 major characters, and everyone else are minor characters that might get more screen time later on, presumably. 

Pierre appears to be the "main", main character, a bastard son who's committed some crimes in the past, like the hilarious crime where he tied a police officer to a bear. He inherits a large some of money from the Count, his father, and is troubled by what he must do with it, as well as what he should do with his life in general. He thinks his wife is having an affair with a family friend, a gentlemen he's helped greatly in life. Pierre challenges him to a duel, and the poor man doesn't even fire at Pierre because of everything Pierre's done for him, but Pierre shoots him, satisfying his ego but destroying his soul in the process. Later, Pierre tries to pick the pieces and come to grace, by becoming a Freemason and changing his life forever, trying to become a better man; a better man to his peasants, his family, and his friends. Tolstoy goes into great detail, displaying Pierre's initiation into Freemasonry, and its quite what you would expect.

Prince Andrey seems to be another important, "main", character. He joins the army and fights against the French, fighting against Napoleon. He goes to war to prove himself and become a hero, he wants to be loved by men who will never know his name, but instead all he finds is death and suffering. He wants Pierre to apologize to his wife about the duel and the affair, for which Pierre had no evidence, but Pierre wants nothing to do with his wife and says he's done with it forever. 

Pierre and Andrey seem to me to be the two most important characters in the novel thus far. There are many other characters; children of the aristocrats [they're all rich people here except for the maids and peasants, who sometimes take on important roles], princesses, counts, generals, soldiers, the list goes on and on, but for me, I tend to focus on Pierre and Andrey because Tolstoy writes them [as well as the minor characters, fantastically] with such detailed precision, its like an x-ray onto the character. Tolstoy goes into the general character, their thoughts, their moods, their language and dialogue, but he also goes into the soul of the character; mind, body, and spirit, which brings me to my next point. 

At this point in the book one begins to realize that this is not just a book, not just a story. Sure, there are innovative plot points and the narrative flows better than most fiction today [the development of good story and narration is something I learned a lot about from Don Quixote, but Tolstoy is such a master of this art, that it leaves one awestruck], but what I'm getting at is that this book isn't just a story, or about characters, or about war and peace, rather it could perhaps be a grand philosophical opus. Tolstoy himself said that War and Peace was his take on German philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer's ideas, particularly his masterpiece, The World as Will and Representation. 

Here is where the reader must know Kant, and must know that Schopenhauer's ideas take off from Kant's metaphysical system of transcendental idealism. 

Schopenhauer saw the human will as our one window to the reality behind the world as representation, i.e. the external world as we experience it through our mental faculties. According to Schopenhauer, the will is the 'inner essence' of the entire world, i.e. the Kantian thing-in-itself (Ding an sich), and exists independently of the forms of the principle of sufficient reason that govern the world as representation. Schopenhauer believed that while we may be precluded from direct knowledge of the Kantian noumenon, we may gain knowledge about it to a certain extent (unlike Kant, for whom the noumenon was completely unknowable). This is because, according to Schopenhauer, the relationship between the world as representation and the world as it is 'in itself' can be understood by investigating the relationship between our bodies (material objects, i.e. representations, existing in space and time) and our will. [wiki] 

That's very intense German metaphysics for the laymen, but the ideas represented do fit like a missing puzzle piece to this great novel. Why do you think this novel is so great? Of course Tolstoy read Schopenhauer and took some ideas of it for War and Peace.

More on this subject when I reach the halfway point. Watch this space.   

The Tale of Genji

The Tale of Genji is a Japanese masterpiece of literature [considered the first novel] from the Heian period, roughly (794-1185). Written by a woman named Murasaki Shikibu. She was born into a minor branch of the Fujiwara clan. Her father was a governor. Men wrote in Chinese. Women wrote and read in Japanese, which led to female writers of Japanese, highborn women. She started writing this novel, which is over a thousand pages after her husband died. Scholars tend to disagree on the writer. Some say it was the work of many authors, as says Royall Tyler, who's translation [only 300 pages] I read. Others say its solely Muraski's work. The actual story itself has a continuity that suggests there is only one writer, her. 

The original manuscript is gone. This brings up the issue of translation. Heian Japanese is so different from modern Japanese. Translating Heian Japanese into English is a daunting task unto itself. However, a literal translation of Genji is impossible. Not only that but each English translation of Genji is so remarkably different. Consider these renderings of the same sentence by different English translators. 

In Chapter 4, titled “Yugao,” Genji comes across a run-down house, the abode of a young woman he is about to seduce. Waley describes the entrance like this: “There was a wattled fence over which some ivy-like creeper spread its cool green leaves, and among the leaves were white flowers with petals half-unfolded like the lips of people smiling at their own thoughts.” Seidensticker: “A pleasantly green vine was climbing a board wall. The white flowers, he thought, had a rather self-satisfied look about them.” Tyler: “A bright green vine, its white flowers smiling to themselves, was clambering merrily over what looked like a board fence.” Washburn: “A pleasant-looking green vine was creeping luxuriantly up a horizontal trellis, which resembled a board fence. White flowers were blooming on the vine, looking extremely self-satisfied and apparently without a care in the world.” [newyorker] 

Each version is so different, yet say the same thing in their own inimitable way. It's remarkable. The act of translating itself is a science. One could write an entire treatise on the art of translating. It would be worth the read. Genji made me realize how important a good translation of a book is. Before that, I was in the dark about it.

What is The Tale of Genji about? A noble and his concubines. It's about the art of seduction. But even simpler I would say it's about relationships. A man and his relationships with women. In this society, the way to a woman's heart was through poems, delivered by a go-between, who was elegantly dressed, and of appropriate social standing.

Courtly lovers didn't see each other face to face often, certainly not naked. Women of the upper class sat behind screens, and sliding doors. Women were protected by screens even when they spoke with males in their own family. A guy could be driven wild if he saw a woman's sleeve spill out or the sound of silk rustling behind the screen.

But people still got it on. Nobles and their ladies were promiscuous. Affairs with court ladies and ladies in waiting were perks of an aristocrat's life. So was adultery sometimes. Genji, when he's still young, has an affair with his father's [the Emperor] mistress. And both father and son lust after a young girl, that Genji adopted as his daughter. 

The requirement of a gentleman was style. You could be forgiven for seducing a man's wife. But you had to know how to write good poetry, have good handwriting, and wear the right perfume. Despite the influence of Buddhism, Heian society was governed by style rather than virtue. Good looks meant everything, virtue be damned. 

The ideal man wasn't too much different from the ideal woman in Heian society: highly perfumed, smooth-skinned, moon-faced, extravagantly dressed. The decadence of the times led to what Genji called a time “where everything seems to be in a state of decline." A state of decadence.

All of this had a strong sense of hierarchy of course. Also, Heian politics was marriage politics.  

Three important takeaways from reading Tyler's translation of Genji. 

First, this book gave me my first real look at Japanese culture that wasn't from anime or movies. I understand Japanese culture and society a lot better than I did in the past, and am grateful for the experience of reading world literature. It opened up my mind to the literature of other cultures [non-western canon], and that is an amazing gift to oneself, and for anyone who cares to discuss the book with me or listen to me explain it.

Second, the idea of translation. Lost in translation is a big possibility here. But the fact that the first novel can be somewhat preserved and rendered into modern readable English from Heian Japanese is fascinating to me. How do they do it? It's like nuclear physics. The translations in English are all vastly different. The book is 1300 pages, and the version I read and bought is only 300 pages. Obviously, Tyler's version is heavily edited, abridged, and he took out many passages, but I still found the book to be thrilling. 

Third, the sense of style. The elegance of this book is vast. You don't need action and fast-paced fiction writing to create a sense of depth. As a writer, this is very liberating to see, read, and experience. In fact, I had to read this book very slowly because each page is annotated, there's more than one poem on every page, and if you don't read the footnotes at the bottom of the page, you don't quite understand the poems. However, when you realize that the poems aren't literal translations, and don't quite mean much to you, the reader, you realize that you should focus on the story itself, rather than trying to find meanings in the poems. Going through that was a tedious yet rewarding experience. 

I plan on going back through Tyler's version again. Because I was so impressed with it, I bought my own used copy. Definitely worth it. Although the book took me almost a week to read, it was a very fruitful experience. At the very least, now I know where Overwatch's Genji got his inspiration. Of course, the real, yet fictional Genji is so much cooler.