War and Peace: A brief response

Major spoilers for War and Peace follow.

One day in mid-April, I decided that I was in the mood to conquer the beast of a novel that is Leo Tolstoy’s War and Peace. Well, right around two months later, I have accomplished the task. Why did I choose to work my way through the behemoth historical epic? There are a few reasons.

1.     I like Russian literature. Dostoevsky, Tolstoy, and Chekhov are some of my favorite authors.

2.     I love Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812, which is a musical based on a brief 75 page section of the novel (Volume 2, Part 5).

3.     I felt like reading an epic, which you don’t get more epic than War and Peace.

4.     It is vastly considered one of the greatest novels of all time. Some even say it is a life-changing novel.

The novel surprised me in many ways. Tolstoy laced humor throughout the novel, playing with words and style—I read the Pevear and Volokhonsky translation, as I unfortunately know nothing of Russian. Despite being epic in scope, following big name historical figures such as Napoleon and Kutuzov, my favorite parts of the novel were those following the intimate lives of the fictional characters. Natasha, Pierre, Andrei, Nikolai, Marya, Sonya. The novel’s character development snuck up on me. It began slowly, gradually introducing more characters and subplots. By the middle of the story, I could stop double checking the glossary of character names, because each character had been developed enough that they no longer felt like fictional characters, but real people.

This sense of realism in the characters made the story affect me in ways that I have rarely, if ever, felt from other books. I shed tears during tragic events towards the end of the novel. Prince Andrei Bolokonsky is perhaps my favorite character in the novel. He’s a man who honestly tries to be a good person. He is noble, kind-hearted, and cares deeply about his family. His engagement to Natasha Rostov collapses, as Natasha chooses to have an affair with Anatole Kuragin, a man who “walked with swagger, which would have been ridiculous if he wasn’t so good looking.” Speaking with his closest friend, Pierre, Andrei declares that he is not the kind of man who can forgive Natasha’s betrayal.

I connected with Andrei more than I wish to admit. To then follow his story as he reenlists in the army, as he suffers through the pain of loss, as a cannonball explodes next to him, mortally wounding him, as he seemingly dies in a medical tent next to none other than Anatole Kuragin, who is also dying, having lost a leg (no more walking with a swagger, I suppose…serves him right, ahem), and to have Andrei’s last thought be that he was not ready to die, because he has not yet forgiven Anatole, was a gut punch. I shed tears. Then, Tolstoy had the audacity to surprise me with Andrei still being alive. Still suffering from his physical wound (and his emotional wounds), he is transported to Moscow, where he joins the Rostov family in fleeing from the city, as the French army approaches. Reunited with Natasha, who takes care of him, who nurses him, who, despite her former betrayal, still loves him, who begs his forgiveness, he, the man who could not forgive, forgives her and dies surrounded by loved ones. My heart ached for Andrei and for Natasha and for myself. All of this stirred up memories, bittersweet memories, memories of pain and hurt and betrayal and loss. It was a cathartic experience to read about the tragedy of Natasha and Andrei. I speak with authority when I say that Tolstoy captured the emotions of a broken engagement dead on. The reuniting of the former lovers is a nice, romantic ideal, a break from the stark realism of much of the novel, but Tolstoy reunites them only to kill Andrei, a cruel act, but a necessary one; a beautiful, tragic finish to his sorrowful arc.

The novel continued. Life continued. Further tragedy struck as Natasha’s young brother is killed in action by a stray bullet. Still, life continued. And despite the troubles of family life, the stresses of being a human in this world, the surviving characters continued to grow and change and live their lives, as we do after tragedy strikes.

The Napoleonic wars, like all wars, tore apart the countryside, hurting families, burning cities, making the world a grimmer place. But peace can be found in loving one another, in forgiving one another, in choosing to live, instead of letting the darkness of the world take over. The novel dissects the idea of war, the causes of war, the reasons for war, the why’s and the how’s. Tolstoy is a great commentator on the nature of war, the darkness of the human experience. But despite all the darkness and torment, life continues and peace can be found. Russian life continued despite the destruction that came down upon them, just as human life continues after any tragedy.

I haven’t even discussed a majority of the characters or events covered by the vast novel, but there’s just too much to go into it all. Haven’t even discussed Pierre, oh Pierre, at all. What a man, Pierre. What a complex, human, fully realized man Pierre is. But again, there’s just too much to go into it all. Suffice it to say I am glad I read it. I absolutely loved it. It was beautiful, heartbreaking, uplifting, sweeping, epic, informative, thought-provoking, and truly a pleasure, albeit heavy and challenging. Has it changed my life? I don’t know about that, but it has given me much to contemplate, and it has reminded me that I love people, that people are worth loving, that life is a good, beautiful thing, and that we should be thankful for the time we are given. It truly is a helluva tome. And I am so glad I got to spend time in its world.