Rereading Anna Karenina: Parts 6 and 7

1/ In the previous blog post, I wrote that Tolstoy didn’t seem to allow Anna sexual pleasure. 

Look at this line about Levin and his wife Kitty:

“He had already forgotten that fleetingly disagreeable impression, and alone with her now, with the thought of her pregnancy never leaving him for an instant, he experienced the radiant pleasure, still novel to him, of an intimacy with the woman he loved which was completely free of sensuality.” (P.6, ch.3)

That comes from my current copy, translated by Rosamund Bartlett. To be sure, I’m also putting here the same line from the translation by Aylmer and Louise Maude: 

“He had already forgotten that momentarily unpleasant impression, and being alone with her experienced, now that the thought of her pregnancy never left him, a feeling still novel and joyful to him of pleasure, entirely free from sensuality, at the nearness of a beloved woman.” 

Couldn’t help noticing “an intimacy […] which was completely free of sensuality”. I love Tolstoy, but I do think that one of his biggest problems is his unhealthy view of sex. 

2/ Here’s an idea I stole from Tom of Wuthering Expectations: Levin’s brother Nikolay, who has a prostitute girlfriend and dies from consumption, is a Dostoyevsky character; Levin’s other brother Sergey Koznyshev, who is over-intellectual and incapable of love, is a Turgenev character.

The scene of Sergey and Varenka picking mushrooms in the woods is magnificent. A bit infuriating, but magnificent.  

3/ Tolstoy likes to enter the mind of everybody, and does it better, more convincingly than any other novelist I’ve read. Sometimes he also writes from the point of view of a horse or a dog (though I wish he had also written about cats). This for example is an interesting passage about Levin’s dog Laska, from the hunting scene: 

“Levin was longing to drink some vodka and eat a piece of bread. He was exhausted, and felt he could only just pull his tottering legs out of the quagmire, so for a moment he hesitated. But Laska was pointing. All his tiredness vanished in an instant, and he walked easily through the quagmire towards his dog. A snipe flew out from under his feet; he fired and killed it, but the dog continued to point. ‘Fetch!’ Another bird flew up from under the dog. Levin fired. But it was not his lucky day; he missed, and when he went to look for the one he had killed, he could not find that either. He trawled through all the sedges, but Laska did not believe he had shot anything, and when he sent her to search, she pretended she was searching, but was not really searching.” (P.6, ch.10)

Later on, in chapter 12, Tolstoy describes the hunt almost entirely from Laska’s point of view, and yet it works perfectly. 

How many writers can pull off something like this? 

4/ As Dolly is on the way to see Anna and Vronsky, she meets a young woman who has just lost her baby. The woman says “‘What is there to miss? The old man has grandchildren enough as it is. They’re just trouble. You can’t work or do anything. They just tie you down.’” (P.6, ch.16). That is shocking, but as Dolly thinks more about it, she can’t help thinking there’s some truth in those cynical words. 

“…thought Darya Alexandrovna as she looked back over her whole life during the fifteen years she had been married, ‘it’s just been pregnancy, nausea, dull-wittedness, indifference to everything, and above all looking hideous. Even Kitty, young and pretty Kitty, has lost her looks, but when I’m pregnant I become hideous, I know. Labour, suffering, hideous suffering, that last moment … then the feeding, those sleepless nights, that dreadful pain …

[…] And what is it all for? What will it all lead to? To me living out my life without a moment’s peace, either pregnant or breastfeeding, permanently cross, grumpy, worn out myself and wearing other people out, repulsive to my husband, while the children will grow up unhappy, badly brought up, and poor…’” (ibid.) 

This, ladies and gentlemen, comes from a writer that many readers call a misogynist. 

Many readers, for some reason, are so fixated on Anna’s downfall and the ending that they’re blind to the understanding and sympathy Tolstoy has for the women in Anna Karenina, especially Dolly. One may argue that the author depicts Dolly’s illusions about Anna’s life, and her daydreams, only to show her later realise that Anna has changed and isn’t truly happy, but the fact remains that Dolly is an honest and sympathetic portrayal of a woman worn out by her several children and unloved by her husband. 

After the conversation with Anna, Dolly chooses her children, as a mother does, but throughout the novel, Tolstoy doesn’t describe her life as all good and easy. He doesn’t idealise it. 

I note that Dolly is one of the few characters in the book who are kind and not hypocritical. Tolstoy depicts Princess Varvara, for example, as a hypocrite who pretends to be nice to Anna only to enjoy the comfort at Vronsky’s house; Betsy is also a hypocrite, who has an affair herself but abandons Anna because of her awkward position in society; Karenin’s only friend, Countess Lydia Ivanova, is sanctimonious and her devotion to Karenin isn’t entirely innocent; Karenin himself isn’t entirely honest either, he is self-righteous and uses religion as an emotional crutch, etc. Dolly, in contrast, is a good woman and not a hypocrite. Tolstoy has compassion for her, and her suffering.

5/ Through Varenka Veslovsky (Kitty’s flirtatious cousin), Tolstoy again subtly contrasts Anna and Kitty, Vronsky and Levin.

The contrast between the 2 men becomes even more obvious as Vronsky, now that he has left the army, becomes a landowner like Levin and joins the zemstvo and devotes his time to public duties, like Levin used to do. 

I like that Levin, in spite of himself, comes to like both Vronsky and Anna. 

6/ I haven’t said anything about Tolstoy’s metaphors and similes. They tend to be more straightforward than, and not as striking as, Flaubert’s metaphors and similes. But sometimes they can be very interesting.  

For example, this is how Dolly feels pretending to enjoy a game at Vronsky’s house.

“All that day she had felt she was acting in a theatre with actors who were better than she was, and that her bad acting was ruining the whole show.” (P.6, ch.22) 

I like that.

This one is about Levin trying to sort out a business for his sister who lives abroad. 

“All this fuss and bother, the endless going from one place to another, the conversations with very kind, good people, who completely understood the unpleasantness of the petitioner’s position but could not assist him—all this effort without any result produced in Levin a ghastly feeling which was akin to that exasperating sense of powerlessness experienced in dreams when one wants to apply physical force.” (P.6, ch.26) 

Straight to the point. 

7/ There are 3 different portraits of Anna in the novel: one in Karenin’s room, one by Vronsky, and one by an artist named Mikhailov.

This is the first painting: 

“Above the armchair hung an oval portrait of Anna in a gold frame, which had been finely executed by a famous artist. Alexey Alexandrovich glanced at it. Her inscrutable eyes fixed him with a mocking, brazen stare as they had on the evening of their altercation. The sight of the black lace on her head, her black hair, and beautiful white hand with its fourth finger covered with rings, superbly painted by the artist, also struck Alexey Alexandrovich as unbearably brazen and defiant. After looking at the portrait for a minute, such a shudder ran through Alexey Alexandrovich that his lips quivered and uttered the sound ‘brr’, and he turned away.” (P.3, ch.14)

This is Mikhailov’s painting:

“From the fifth sitting onwards the portrait astonished everyone, and Vronsky in particular, not only with its likeness but also its special beauty. It was uncanny how Mikhailov had been able to uncover her special beauty. ‘One would have had to know and love her as I have loved her to uncover that most endearing heartfelt expression of hers,’ thought Vronsky, although he had only discovered this most endearing heartfelt expression of hers from the portrait. But this expression was so truthful that he and others felt they had known it for a long time.” (P.5, ch.13) 

Later, when Levin looks at the same painting:  

“While Stepan Arkadyich went behind the lattice screen and the man’s voice which had been speaking fell silent, Levin gazed at the portrait, which stood out from the frame in the gleaming light, and could not tear himself away from it. With his eyes riveted on the remarkable portrait and not listening to what was being said, he even forgot where he was. This was not a painting but an enchanting living woman with curly black hair, bare arms and shoulders, and a pensive half-smile on lips covered with soft down, looking at him triumphantly and tenderly with eyes which unnerved him. The only thing which showed she was not alive was that she was more beautiful than a living woman could be.” (P.7, ch.9) 

Then Levin sees the real Anna: 

“She was less dazzling in reality, but in the flesh there was also something new and alluring about her that was not in the portrait.” (ibid.) 

Later:

“… With this expression on her face she was even more beautiful than before; but this expression was new; it lay beyond the range of expressions radiating and transmitting happiness that had been captured by the painter in the portrait. Levin looked again at the portrait and at her figure as she took her brother’s arm and proceeded through the tall doors with him, and he felt a tenderness and pity for her that took him quite by surprise.”(P.7, ch.10) 

I don’t have much to say about the 3 portraits, for now, but these passages are so good.

It seems to be a mistake on Tolstoy’s part that Levin and Oblonsky have been childhood mates but Levin has never met Anna till this scene, but it doesn’t matter because the scene is excellent. 

8/ I shall not write about the childbirth scene, which is one of the greatest scenes in the novel. Instead, I want to write briefly about the scene of Oblonsky seeing Karenin with Countess Lydia Ivanova and Landau (P.7, ch.21-22).

It is a simple enough scene with 4 main characters, but there are many things going on at the same time. At the centre of action, Oblonsky, Karenin, and the Countess are there to talk about Anna’s request for divorce; in the background are Landau the clairvoyant, who looks at portraits or walks about and does his own thing, and the footman, who occasionally interrupts the conversation by giving Lydia Ivanova something and takes her order.

In the conversation itself, Oblonsky wants to plead Anna’s case but Karenin seemingly prefers to rely on Lydia Ivanova, and Lydia Ivanova is more interested in talking about Landau and religion.

Tolstoy writes the scene from Oblonsky’s perspective and there are 2 things going on within him: he’s asking for a divorce for Anna, and at the same time thinking about a job position he means to ask Lydia Ivanova to put in a word for him. Because of the favour, the second motive, Oblonsky can neither state his views strongly, nor go as far as he should in the matter of Anna, and risk offending the Countess.

In short the scene has several layers, and several things taking place at the same time. Under Tolstoy’s skilful hand, it all flows perfectly and feels so natural—it even feels simple. 

9/ For now, I shall not write about Anna’s death. The chapters are emotionally draining, and just unbearable.