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Did anybody else not like Vronsky for much of this novel and then just at the end, when he's at the train station, they choked all up and felt horrible for him? I've never had such a wide and sudden swing for a character in literature before. It was very fascinating. Of course, if you liked Vronsky throughout then this phenomena would have been stillborn... But did anyone else have this powerful emotive moment for him that blind sided you?
That's Tolstoy's magic - he doesn't lazily or judgmentally create 'good' or 'bad' characters but brings you to a point where you understand and empathise with them. I'm not sure my feelings about Vronsky were so strongly antagonistic as yours. I saw him as someone with a certain nobility and moral code which he stuck to steadfastly, the problem was that the ideals he had of being honourable were clearly insufficient - a product of the sphere he moved in. By the end you could see clearly he wasn't just an amoral chancer but had integrity and sensitivity. But I also felt sorry for him at the end; after all he has had everything taken from him and his life's now swallowed up with remorse and probably anger... I was more suprised and moved by the development of Karenin as he kept developing suprising new depths of feeling and generosity from a unpromising start where he just came across as cold and moralistic. I felt intensely sorry for him at times after Anna's illness and his forgiveness of her.
The thing with Vronsky was that even before he knew Anna's discontent he seemed to believe that it was fair to woo this married woman. As well, he was far too self-satisfied and proud and, undoubtedly, felt rather entitled about everything. I'm not saying those aren't crucial and important traits (well, not the entitlement) but everything in moderation, eh? As for the book in general, I certainly appreciated and was, indeed, in respect for Tolstoy's gift of building this expansive 19th century Russian world that crossed all personal dispositions and public classes and yet managed to wash out any blatant moral or social adjudication from his lofty perch as the creator of it all. From what I've read, what seems to have often spoiled the novel's magic for some readers was Levin's mental engagement and reverence for the peasantry and their rustic struggles and connection with the land. I loved those pages of the book as much as any of it and found them riveting both within the story itself and on behalf of the detail of the bucolic vivification by Tolstoy's craft level. (But I also enjoyed the cetology chapter in Moby Dick so go figure, haha!) Anyhow, back to Vronsky... I didn't care for him (or Anna for that matter) in the sympathetic sense though I found them to be wonderful characters. Of course, Tolstoy seems to make the magic that Anna wields over people to be one which is conjured to life upon being within her presence as is evidenced by Levin's unwilling enrapture to her near the end of the novel. That said, I am still a bit dumbfounded by the evisceration I suffered, after nearly 800 pages of being unmoved, by Vronsky's fate and the vicissitude of his pride and potency into apathy. It just gutted me out of nowhere. I want to address your thoughts concerning Karenin as they mirror some of my own but I'll save that for later.
Firstly, your criticisms of Vronsky are, of course, fair. I'm as instinctively against having an affair with a women behind her husband's back as the next person - and in Vronsky's position it was particularly bad since he went to such trouble to manouvre the situation, chase her hundreds of miles across the country and, as you say, he wasn't aware she was unhappy (was she even?) or that her husband was unsuitable for her. I deliberately tried to suspend immediate moral judgment while reading the book and I think this is to some extent what Tolstoy is trying to do as well in the way he develops the characters so that we can understand the perspective from which they come and can understand and empathise even if their actions are against our own moral code. With Vronsky, I didn't feel strong antipathy towards him because he was at least consistent with his own sense of moral values - this quote sums him up fairly well:Quote:
Originally Posted by D.S. Poorman
'In his Petersburg world all people were divided into utterly opposed classes. One, the lower class, vulgar, stupid, and, above all, ridiculous people, who believe that one husband ought to live with the one wife whom he has lawfully married; that a girl should be innocent, a woman modest, and a man manly, self-controlled, and strong; that one ought to bring up one's children, earn one's bread, and pay one's debts; and various similar absurdities. This was the class of old-fashioned and ridiculous people. But there was another class of people, the real people. To this class they all belonged, and in it the great thing was to be elegant, generous, plucky, gay, to abandon oneself without a blush to every passion, and to laugh at everything else.' - Chapter 34.
Basically, Vronsky has a code (flawed) that he sticks to and has real integrity - remember how much he hate's Anna's deception of her husband - in fact this is what causes their downfall, many in that society had affairs but Anna and Vronsky couldn't cope with bear the deceit and this is why she is rejected by 'good society'. Vronsky deserves some respect at least for these qualities I feel.
I too enjoyed the parts where Levin works on his estate, especially the section where he joins in with the haymaking and the deep satisfaction he gets from the work. Actually this was one of the stand out passages for me (It reminds me, by the way, of Conrad and his depictions of the relief and satisfaction one finds in intense physical labour).
Yes, Vronsky was absolutely shaped by the world into which he was born. I'd have an aversion to the elitism of that entire class as, no doubt, Tolstoy himself did. But he does well in his writing to merely present us with "realism" (as I believe it's "officially" called) and to avoid proselytizing against the privileges of the upper class. And certainly, it makes for a great story, ha! Again, as you pointed out, he does well to just create these people so that we, the readers, are eventually invested in them as whole persons instead of as symbols of this-and-that to be categorized into convenient reactionary compartments. Thus, my own sort of unwilling snare into Vronsky's melancholic fate. Which, I can't say enough, has affected me rather profoundly. Art to me is most valuable when it lingers in my mind and it is, almost exclusively, this trait which establishes the value of any given work to me. That said, as much for this one moment as for several others within Anna Karenin this book is most fascinating to me.
As to whether Anna was discontent? It seems to me that her husband was rather too clerical and sensible and devoid of passion and warmth for her own constitution. That was my impression. However, you pointed out that shift in Karenin's disposition during that period of Anna's sickness and indeed that was all quite surprising to witness. After about the halfway point in the book I was becoming rather anxious to get a grip on the epicenter of the cryptic quote under the book's title on the title page: "Vengeance is mine and I will repay". Around about page 500ish I thought I had it pinned down and that the vengeance Tolstoy was speaking of would be Karenin's and that he would somehow use his connections to manipulate Hell down upon Vronsky and Anna. Then after that particular passage in the book where he goes all soft by the side of Anna's sickbed I had to let that idea go. Little did I know the vengeance was Anna's and that it wouldn't be until page 800 that I would get to know that! It's like having to get through 95% of Moby Dick before you get to meet the infamous title character.
Yes, the parts where Levin is working the hay with his workers was wonderful. And this isn't exactly working the land but there was a passage in very early spring when Levin's brother has come to visit him on his property. They are laying at the edge of some woods next to a field and Levin is watching the flora just feet away and he sees a blade of grass actually growing before his very eyes and he revels in the moment. The writing in that passage set the hair on my arms up. It's the finery of such passages in the midst of this vast expansive story that I find to be just riveting and enlivening.
I have to confess, it's been a loooooong time since I've read Conrad so I won't pretend to be able to make the connection you've made at the end of your post.
Anna's vengeance! In what sense?Quote:
Originally Posted by D.S. Poorman
Surely "Vengeance is mine and I will repay" alludes to God's almighty vengeance, for both Anna and Vronsky pay dearly in the latter half of the novel: Anna, at least, with her life.
Quote:
Romans 12:19___Dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves, but rather give place unto wrath: for it is written, Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord.
Well... I always tell myself I should read the Bible sometime. If only for the literary experience. I might have been able to put that together?
But to your question, I was left only to conclude that Anna hurling herself in front of the train was vengeance (and madness of course) on Vronsky for her misperception that he didn't love her or was finished loving her. It certainly did a number on him regardless. Still, it didn't feel completely satisfactory and now I know why.
But now I find it curious that the front matter in the edition I have didn't point out the source of that quote? Anyhow, live and learn.
All that said, thank you for the enlightenment. (Perhaps my embarrassment will motivate me to read that ubiquitous book now? I've got a really nice copy about five feet away on my book shelf.)
Of course you're right on the origin of the quote. But I'm not really sure how it fits what happens in the novel overall; I never noticed Tolstoy developing upon the theme of the vengeance of God. In fact, since I think one of the main strengths of the book is it's lack of an overall 'message', it seems slightly odd for Tolstoy to use the quote in this way.Quote:
Originally Posted by Gladys
If there is some way of tying this in I think it is that Anna's vengeance upon Vronsky is being addressed, that it is not for her to take this role on but God's. But again, I don't see that this seeming narratorial judgment works in the context of Tolstoy's writing; it would seem far more at home in, say, a novel by Eliot or Hardy as there is a more evident didactic/moralising effort in their work.
I would argue that the vengeance of God is utterly familiar to Christian cultures of earlier centuries.Quote:
Originally Posted by johnw1
Tolstoy, and more so Dostoevsky, are always subtle in moral issues. Nevertheless vengeance - whether of God, of fate, of nature, or of universal justice - does descend inexorably on the adulterous couple like the ash, stones and pumice that buried ancient Pompeii and Herculanum.
Well, now I'm scratching my head. I have to fess up a bit first and say that all of my knowledge with literature is just between me and the books as I read them. I've never had an English/Russian/Brit/etc. lit class beyond high school and so I have to get what I get from pure instinct and paying attention. I'm not saying that it is different or not for anyone else as I don't know and it's rather beside the point. (Bear with me here, there is a point, haha!) But I'm saying that if someone has studied Tolstoy (or whoever) in an academic setting then there is "established knowledge", so to speak, there that I haven't had access to. All of that said, I took my slap on the wrist on good faith and that the "Vengeance is mine..." quote has been solidly determined to be utilized as foreboding of God's intervention within Anna Karenin. But perhaps I was allowing my self awareness of my biographical deficiencies and my lack of knowledge about the origin of this particular quote to put too much weight on the opinions of others. In short, is the application of this quote to the text of the book itself established in philology or is it exactly what it's become here: a matter for opinionated debate?
I'm not being argumentative or defensive nor am I offended at all. As always, I'm simply wanting to be more enlightened tomorrow than I was yesterday... (and certainly learning where the quote came from was a delight in itself.)
I discovered literature in recent years and, like you, I've never had an English/Russian/Brit/etc. lit class beyond high school and so I have to get what I get from pure instinct and paying attention. What's more, I tend to avoid commentaries. So, by all means, defend your view of the "Vengeance is mine..." quote, if you feel you can.Quote:
Originally Posted by D.S. Poorman
Nevertheless, I think the relevance of the opening quote is less a matter for opinionated debate than a question of textual evidence. In a nutshell: Levin is good, Vronsky and Karenin are suspect, and Anna is bad.
Ha! Well, I wasn't intending to have a pissing contest about street cred when I said I had never taken any university courses about literature. I only meant to quantify that my knowledge base is undoubtedly deficient as to the philological understandings of literature that has been embraced in the university setting. And although I recognize that those are also formed of opinions down the line in their inception I'm not so crude as to not know that author's have definitive intentions for their works when the compose them and that diligent study can excavate to relative certainly such intentions. Anyhow, I'll not bother trying to tip-toe around sounding contentious if it's going to pay no dividends...
As for the opening quote and it's relation to Anna Karenin; It would seem that the lack of acknowledgement as to the origins of the title's subscript in its use there on the page as well as no mention of those origins anywhere within the front matter of the edition of the book I have could be construed as meaningful. That being that it was usurped wholesale from the Biblical contextualization and to then be interpreted within the work itself in a secular sense and instead of the reader having to bring the weight and meanings of this proselytizing book into the broadest understanding of the new work. As you propose it, Anna Karenin would almost be some adjutant text to the Bible itself; a parable on the sins of adultery. Indeed, why not teach it in seminaries and the like?
But that all seems secondary to the more poignant aspect of the quote's usage and its realization in the narrative. That being that if the quote were simply removed from the title page there would be precious little for the reader to find within the text itself to indicate God's almighty hand at play in anything but the minutia of one of these lives. Undoubtedly Levin finds some spiritual salvation in his time throughout the novel but this fate of his appears to be a very personal matter and not something indicative to a broad public sweep of sacred "justice" doled out for sins against any commandments. The book just doesn't read as such to me. It strikes me as a more secular tale with, as the world itself unfolds, an appropriately relative amount of attention paid to religion's place in 19th century Russian living.
As well, it certainly seemed to be the very intention of Tolstoy that one aught not decide in any black and white terms such declarative truths as so-and-so is bad and so-and-so is good. It seems as if Tolstoy spend a great amount of talent and care in designing against just such an understanding. Of course, I believe a great amount of human conjecture has been spent about the tendency and need of people to safely compartmentalize the world around them as much as possible as they feel some kind of psychological vertigo if they must allow that much of reality is indeed ambiguous prior to direct experience in any given arena. Let prejudice and ignorance prevail where doubt might otherwise engender the state of mind. But that's another thread I suppose. I think I saw a philosophy board on here somewhere...
I more or less agree.Quote:
Originally Posted by D.S. Poorman
A parable, yes, but one more secular than religious.Quote:
Originally Posted by D.S. Poorman
I can't agree with this. Tolstoy's God is bigger than Russian Orthodoxy or conventional religious piety. Levin - Tolstoy's mouthpiece - yearns and searches for God in the infinite, the eternal, but also in the minutiae of daily living. Ultimately all can see that the Almighty (the universe) avenges, while Levin is more vindicated than not.Quote:
Originally Posted by D.S. Poorman
The text that sticks in my mind is:
Romans 8:28____And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God...
Hmm. The sympathetic, indulgent and self-satisfied way Tolstoy presents honest Levin in the closing pages of the novel seem decidedly 'black and white', and far more dogmatic and prescriptive than any Dostoevsky ending. I get the feeling that, through Levin, Tolstoy is flattering himself!Quote:
Originally Posted by D.S. Poorman
Is Levin Tolstoy's mouthpiece? I know they have some things in common but I'm not sure if we can take it that far.Quote:
Originally Posted by Gladys
I'm not sure what you're saying about the quote from Romans...
I also disagree with your point about Levin at the close of the novel. I think this is not in any way smug. In fact I got the distinct feeling in reading it that Levin's sense of having somehow arrived at a comfortable position of faith in God is highly likely to be transitory. Even at this point, doubts are arising in his mind which, in that moment he feels confident will somehow sort themselves out at a later time, but, judging by his character as developed in the rest of the novel, it seems likely to be just a phase. He doesn't have the characteristics to find this kind of assurance - he's not like Kitty with her simple unquestioning belief, or like his brother with his intellectual self-confidence.
I very much agree with this. To see the quote as central to the novel in the sense of God exacting his vengeance upon the sins of the protagonists doesn't seem right to me at all. This is not a religious parable (as I read it) but, as you say, a secular tale with the results emanating from the decisions, with all their complexities, inconsistencies etc, of the characters portrayed.Quote:
Originally Posted by D.S. Poorman